Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The decision to finally face Calamity Ganon is borne from guilt more than anything else. Link has been enjoying traveling through Hyrule. With the Divine Beasts freed from the Calamity’s influence, they are no longer a threat and the people of Hyrule have been dealing quite well with the presence of the lesser monsters. The Calamity itself is still safely ensconced in Hyrule Castle. It is so tempting to wait just one more day, to travel to one more place. But it is unfair. Unfair to the princess, who has already waited a hundred years for his return. And unfair to the people of Hyrule, who deserve to thrive and not just survive.

He spends a week putting his affairs in order. He locks up his house in Hateno, visits the people he met on his travels and has one last meeting with each of the champions. He will miss them the most. Everyone else will still be there on the other side.

That is assuming he makes it out alive himself. He does not know how strong the Calamity truly is, only that he was unable to defeat it a century ago. The idea of facing Calamity Ganon remains daunting. Even more daunting is the prospect of life after that.

He spends his last night in Rito Village. He considered spending it in his own home, but the picture of the champions next to his bed, all alive and together, is too much to fall asleep to. Rito Village is quiet but not lifeless, the air just cold enough for the blankets to feel cozy and not stifling. Usually he would stay with Teba and Saki or Amali and Kass, but he does not want to spend an entire evening dodging their well-meaning concern.

Cecili wakes him at sunrise and offers him a breakfast that he declines. This early, only Kass is awake, and the bard merely waves at him when he spots Link leaving the village. Link throws a last look at where Vah Medoh is perched, but Revali’s spirit is nowhere in sight.

He warps directly to the shrine underneath the castle. It’s not the first time he’s entered the castle. Each excursion was dangerous, but coupled with his returning memories, he now has a fairly good idea of the layout of the place. So he makes his way through the secret passage and into the library, avoiding enemies along the way. No point in tiring himself out before he even reaches Ganon.

He has trained for this. He will never be more ready for this fight than he is now, even though the future is daunting and will remain so. He has to. He knows all the locations of the Guardians by now and Robbie has provided him with all the Ancient Arrows he could buy.

His journey up to the Castle Sanctum is still hard-fought. He barely avoids a Lynel and wastes more Ancient Arrows than he can afford on the Guardians lining the road. But finally he stands in front of the entrance, Malice rolling over him in waves. He breathes in, once, twice. Then he steps forward.

The fight, when it happens, comes to him in flashes. It is hearing the princess’ despair as she finally loses her hard-fought control over the Calamity. It is the Divine Beasts striking the monster before he has the time to nock his first arrow. It is his quiet pain at realizing that even this isn’t enough and would never have been enough a hundred years ago.

Then there is Ganon’s attacks becoming more frantic and so much more dangerous. There is Mipha’s trident shattering on an ill-timed throw, crystals strewn underfoot. Urbosa’s shield fracturing and Revali’s bow breaking when he fires his last bomb arrow. Diving for the frayed piece of fabric tied to it, just barely dodging an attack that brings the castle walls down.

He does not expect the massive hulking beast that Ganon becomes, nor does he expect his horse to show up. It is the first horse he ever caught, back when he didn’t even remember how to travel on horseback. A gentle creature, not fast or strong, and it most certainly shouldn’t be here. He has no choice but to mount it and steer it away from the massive maw of the beast, taking the bow the princess gifts him.

The Bow of Light is nothing like any other bow he has ever held. It radiates a power that is not his and for the briefest of seconds he considers begging the princess to take it up. It is hers by right; the power that infuses it should not be his to wield. But he has a duty that he has been neglecting for over a century. He has to defeat Ganon. Even when his horse fails to dodge the Beast’s attack and Daruk’s power cannot fully shield it. Even when Link dismounts and draws the Beast’s attention away from his poor horse, so terribly wounded and yet still hobbling after him. He runs, taking the Beast deeper into Hyrule Field. The arrows of light are the strongest he has ever fired and still the monster does not fall. The Beast is slow and lumbering but Link is exhausted. Each glancing blow feels like it might be the last. Mipha’s power is still warm in his chest, but what if even that isn’t enough?

But the princess’ encouragements ring in his ears and he finds a final burst of power, aided by Revali and his paraglider, to land one more arrow in the beasts’ head. It should be enough.

It isn’t enough. Not until the princess takes to the battlefield and finally, after a century of havoc on Hyrule, obliterates the Calamity. Her power is unlike anything he has ever felt and just for a moment he wonders: was he ever really needed at all?

But then it’s over. Then the princess hesitantly, tremulously, asks him if he remembers her. He does not know what to tell her. He does, in many ways. But all the small things, the weeks on the road getting to know each other? Those are long gone, and Link despairs of them ever returning.

He hesitates too long; the princess’ face falls. As always, the words fail to come when he needs them most.

Instead, he turns towards the castle. Ganon’s Malice has evaporated, leaving the castle framed by a clear blue sky for what must be the first time in a century. From this distance, the damage isn’t clear. It looks like a solid monument to Hyrule’s splendor. Much like Hyrule itself, the reality is a crumbling ruin.

The princess follows his gaze and winces — a much more visible reaction than he expected.

“It would be prudent to find shelter for the night,” she says. It is early afternoon. Link usually doesn’t even think about where to spend the night until sunset and he has no clue where the princess would want to go.

“The castle?” he asks. The first words he’s said to her in a hundred years.

“No! I —” The princess takes a deep breath. “I believe it would be good to reassure the people of Hyrule. Spread the word that the Calamity is gone.” She swallows. “And start rebuilding.”

Link turns away instead of replying, hands twitching towards the Sheikah Slate. The amount of work ahead of them is terrifying. He would like nothing more than to disappear in the Faron Jungle or the Hebra Mountains. But he forces himself to walk up to where his horse is patiently waiting for him. It neighs when he reaches for the reins, but refuses to move. He fishes out an apple and coaxes his horse into eating.

“Is it okay?” the princess asks. Link shrugs. It will be, he hopes. He offers it another apple.

“There is a stable at Wetlands. And Riverside.”

Much like the princess, he too has absolutely no desire to spend any more time near the castle, which leaves the stables as their closest options.

“I would like to go to Kakariko Village,” the princess says. “Do… Do people still remember Impa?”

Link throws her a surprised look. He knows she followed his journey; did she not see the people he met?

“Lady Impa is still alive, your Highness,” he tells her. After a moment’s hesitation, he adds: “She will be happy.”

The princess looks lost for words. She clutches one hand at the skirt of her dress and lowers her eyes, blinking rapidly. “I’m glad, I was afraid… Is— did anyone else survive?”

Link nods. “Lady Purah and Robbie. King Dorephan too, and Sidon.” And Bazz, and Gaddison and Rivan, but those were Link’s friends. It’s not like the princess would be interested in hearing about them.

“Then I would like to visit them. Is the road past Sahasra slope still accessible?”

Already the many questions are clogging up his throat. Link only gives her a brisk nod. Yes, the road should be accessible enough. It must have been a real road once, but Link doesn’t remember. Nowadays he doesn’t often use it, preferring the Sheikah Slate to quickly move from village to village. But the slate can only carry one person and he refuses to leave the princess behind. Ganon may have been defeated, but they do not know what the monsters will be like without the Malice guiding them.

It becomes clear within an hour of leaving that they will not reach Wetland Stable by nightfall. They might not even reach it by morning. Link’s horse is too badly hurt to carry either of them and they are all too tired to walk any faster than a river snail. By the time the sun starts setting, the castle still looms just as large behind them as it did when they left. At least no monsters have attacked them and the Guardians that usually roam the area have all shut down.

They set up camp near what remains of Mabe Village. Link has been here many times now and the sight doesn’t sadden him the way it saddens the princess. He starts a fire while the princess wanders off, steps stiff and small. There used to be a Guardian stalking the ruins here. It too is now inactive.

There’s a burning in his chest that he attributes to hunger at first. He watches as the wood catches fire. The smoke makes him cough. He feels strange, light-headed and heavy-hearted at the same time. Despite the fire, a warmth that has kept him company for months is disappearing, leaving him as cold as when he just emerged from the Shrine of Resurrection.

Realization wells up along with the tears in his eyes. He feels powerless and defenseless. Drained dry and tied down by the sudden loss. They’re gone. They’re gone.

He crouches down but can’t bring himself to jump up, knowing that he will only land on his feet instead of being carried away by the wind. He had hoped… But it was always an idle hope, wasn’t it? He had always known that they wouldn’t return.

That is how the princess finds him, crouched down next to the fire and hiding his face to prevent her from seeing his tears.

“Link?” she asks. “Is everything all right?”

He can’t nod and doesn’t want to shake his head, so he just continues staring at the flames. The princess crouches down gingerly. Her movements have been stiff all day, unused to walking and exhausted from the years and years of effort she expended. She freezes when she catches sight of his tears and makes an aborted movement, hand falling short of his shoulder and curling into a fist.

“What happened?”

When the words stopped coming, he developed a language based on the hand commands of the Hylian army and the signs the Zora use to communicate underwater. He got quite good at it and even the princess and the other champions picked up enough to talk to him. But it was always a language that consisted of simple commands and questions. It isn’t nearly sufficient to explain to the princess what just happened. Right now, when the words are further away than they’ve ever been, he’s helpless.

“… Gone,” he manages.

“What?” the princess asks. When Link doesn’t reply, she asks more urgently: “What’s gone?”

Link shakes his head. He forces himself to take a breath and roughly wipes away the tears. His chest aches with emptiness. The names are too much right now so he uses his hands: the signs the Sheikah used for the ancient machines, always doing double duty as the names of their pilots: Ruta, Rudania, Medoh, Naboris.

The princess makes a small noise of confusion before gasping. Link finally risks glancing up. The princess’ face has fallen. She glances to the east, where the giant form of Vah Medoh is still perched above Rito Village, but now without Revali.

“I see,” she says softly. “They helped save us all. May Hylia embrace their souls.”

Link looks down again. They were her friends too, weren’t they? In many ways, the princess was closer to them than Link himself. Doesn’t she realize what this means? They’re not coming back. They’re never coming back.

But the princess doesn’t seem inclined to say anything else. She folds her legs underneath herself with surprisingly little decorum and tugs on the Hylian tunic Link gave her to wear. She is still wearing her ceremonial dress underneath it, but the skirt is in tatters and provides no protection against the elements.

Link wordlessly turns away and busies himself with finding meat to roast. The princess makes a small noise at the back of her throat, but when he looks back, she’s staring intently at the fire and refuses to make eye contact.

The rest of the evening is spent in silence. When night falls and the usual Stal monsters don’t even appear, it truly hits home that Ganon is gone. Link keeps an anxious eye on the moon, but no red bleeds into it. Ganon will not rise again.

They only sleep a scant few hours before day breaks again and they move on. Link is used to going without sleep unless he’s in a village or a stable and clearly the princess doesn’t need much sleep either, for she spent most of his watch tossing and turning before finally quieting down in the final hour before daybreak.

The rest of their journey to Wetland Stable, something that would usually only take him a few hours, is interminably long and feels even longer by their utter lack of conversation. Every so often, Link would join a group of travelers on their way to the next stable or town. He never said much, but he liked letting the conversation wash over him. Now, with the princess, neither of them have said a word beyond practicalities.

The journey itself provides no distractions either. The Guardians have all shut down and the road is remarkably devoid of monsters. Once, Link spots a Bokoblin, but by the time he’s notched an arrow the monster has already disappeared.

He lets out a breath of relief when they finally cross the river Hylia and the stable is in sight. The sun is already past its highest point and his horse is flagging despite Link continuously feeding it apples and carrots.

When they arrive at the stable, it is teeming with people. Link hands off his horse to the stable owner, who looks him up and down with clear disapproval.

“What’d you do to this poor thing, huh?” he asks, running careful fingers across the horse’s flank. “Run’er into the castle?”

Link shrugs. He wouldn’t believe the actual explanation anyway.

“Mind, might be safe to do that now!” a Hylian woman pipes up. Link thinks he’s talked to her before. “I came here from Riverside yesterday and not a monster in sight! The castle looks pretty safe now, don’t you think? After that light show yesterday, I’ve half a mind to check it out myself, see if there’s any of those royal weapons left in there.”

The princess jerks, mouth opening but no sound coming out. She’s spared from having to speak when the stable owner scoffs loudly.

“Yeah, if you wanna get slaughtered. I heard there’s Lynels in there, they’ll murder you.”

“Laugh it up,” the woman says. She nods at Link and the princess. “Come on, I’m gonna grab a bite and I suggest you do the same. Beats listening to that grump.”

Link gratefully latches onto the excuse, glad to be away from the scrutiny of the stable owner and honestly quite hungry. The princess follows him inside, looking helpless among the gathered crowds. That leaves Link to order food and beds for both of them. He glances back towards where the princess has found a table with her back against the wall and thinks he understands. Back when he’d just left the Great Plateau, he had spent a night at Dueling Peaks Stable. In hindsight, there must have been only ten people at most, but the sheer number of them and their voices echoing through the stable had been overwhelming.

When he returns to their table, she has crossed her arms, making herself look even smaller than she already is. This is no longer the princess who kept the Calamity at bay for decades. Link places her plate in front of her and sits down on the opposite side of the table, hiding her from the rest of the people gathered in the stable.

The atmosphere is jubilant and rumors about Ganon’s sudden demise fly everywhere, but fortunately no one seems to make the connection with the teenagers tucked away in a corner of the room. It is still early when the princess stands up.

“I think I shall retire for the night,” she says, voice barely audible over the din in the stable. “Do not feel obliged to leave on my account.”

Link shakes his head. He’s tired as well and he has no desire to stay among the crowd, which is getting rowdier the later it gets.

“They believe it was the Goddess Herself who destroyed the Calamity,” the princess whispers once they are both under the covers. Link turns onto his side to look at her. The princess is staring at her hands. “I imagine they are not wrong. This power is Hylia’s, is it not?”

Link can only nod. She’s not wrong.

“Is it really bad?” the princess asks. She lowers her hands and turns towards Link. “Hyrule? How much of it is left?”

Link grimaces. “Some places,” he says. “Kakariko, Hateno. Lurelin. Zora's Domain, Rito Village, Gerudo Town and Goron City. Oh!” he smiles. “And Tarrey Town. It’s new.”

The princess smiles too, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am glad to hear that. I would like to visit it, I think. Where is it?”

“In Akkala. Near Akkala Citadel.”

“Then they are well-protected,” the princess concludes before spotting Link’s grimace. “Oh. The citadel fell, did it not? I think I heard… But I was sure it would have remained standing.”

Link shakes his head. He doesn’t know how the citadel fell — the last thing he remembers is facing down a Guardian near Fort Hateno. He knows that some of the Hylian troops evacuated towards the citadel, intending to destroy the swarming Guardians when they entered the valley. He has since explored the citadel a number of times. Enough to know that they were overrun by Malice.

“I suppose it can’t be helped anymore.” The princess turns around and pulls the covers around her, even though it is a balmy night and there is no real need for them. “I should like to ride for Kakariko Village in the early morning.”

Link makes an assenting noise. An actual bed should make sleeping easier, but as the night before, sleep eludes him. He thinks he dozes off into a restless slumber, only for him to be woken up when the light of dawn is only just filtering through the curtains. The princess is putting on the boots Link lent her. He waits until she leaves the inn before getting up and following her.

He finds her near the shrine. She gives him a faint wave when she spots him following, not at all surprised.

“This feels familiar, does it not?” she says, gesturing between them and the shrine. Link expects bitterness, but the princess smiles at him, a little uncertainly. He smiles back, not sure if he actually feels like it, but the princess’ eyes light up and she steps closer to the shrine.

“When were they activated? Did Purah and Robbie figure it out?” she asks, stepping up to the pedestal and tracing a hand over the glowing cyan lines covering the shrine. Link shakes his head, remembers that the princess can’t see him and follows her onto the pedestal. He unlatches the Sheikah Slate from his belt and holds it up.

“When I activated the Great Plateau Tower. It activated all the other towers and the shrines.”

“Oh, so that’s how it worked?” the princess breathes. She reaches for the Sheikah Slate, but stops at the last second. “May I?”

Link nods, activating the slate and passing it on to her. He shows her the map with all the glowing dots of the shrines that litter Hyrule. She goes to tap one of the icons — a shrine deep in the Hebra Mountains — but he grabs her hand. The princess makes a startled noise. Link quickly lets go and locks his hands behind his back.

“It moves you to the shrine,” he explains. The princess would be alone in the furthest reaches of Hebra with nothing but the thin Hylian tunic to keep her warm. Her eyes widen when the implication of his words sink in.

“Is that what it does?” she whispers. She stares at the Sheikah Slate in her hands with deep regret. “If we had known… We could have prevented the slaughter.”

Yes, if they had been able to use the shrines to move around Hyrule, they could have halted the Calamity in its tracks. The champions would have made it to their Divine Beasts instantly, instead of needing hours to cross an increasingly dangerous Hyrule. Perhaps they could have defeated the Blights Ganon sent to infect the Divine Beasts. Perhaps they could have lived.

“… It can only take one person at a time,” Link says. It is no consolation to him and it clearly doesn’t help the princess either. She hands the slate back to him and walks back towards the stable, gait wooden in a way that cannot be explained by mere exhaustion from the day before. Link trails after her, feeling uncomfortably like he’s a century back into the past.

With two horses in good shape, the journey to Kakariko Village passes a great deal faster than their journey the day before. They aren’t willing to push the horses too hard and Link is still watchful for any monsters, but the stretch of land at Sahasra Slope was always peaceful and today is no exception. They enter the canyons surrounding Kakariko Village in the early afternoon and finally arrive at the village when the sun is at its highest point. The sounds and sights are intimately familiar to Link, but the princess takes it all in with ill-concealed wonder.

“It really still looks the same,” Link hears her whisper.

Any hope they have for a quiet entrance, however, gets dashed when they round the final corner and find the entire village waiting for them. Link flinches at the loud cheer that goes up; the princess startles and straightens up abruptly, taking on the veneer of royalty that she let slip throughout the day. The village is decked out for a festival and they are swarmed by people immediately. Link’s horse neighs, as unused to the crowd as he is. He pats it soothingly and dismounts, only to be swarmed by people immediately.

“You did it!” he hears from far too close. He doesn’t recognize the speaker, too many voices blending together into a cacophony of sounds. The princess remains seated on her horse and he cannot blame her. Her shoulders are set in a rigid line even while she smiles at the children swarming her horse.

“You really did it!” Paya shouts, making her way through the crowd. “I knew you would!”

Link breathes out and gives her a small smile. Paya looks more relaxed than he’s ever seen her before, fully caught up in the festivities around her. From atop her horse, the princess also catches sight of Paya. Her eyes widen.

“Impa?” she asks.

Paya stumbles upon being the focus of the princess’ attention. “Oh! Your Highness! We are so grateful for everything you have done for us! Grandmother is eager to see you, will you join us?”

The princess slowly dismounts and steps closer to Link. “Grandmother?” she mouths to him.

“Paya,” Link mutters. “Lady Impa’s granddaughter.”

The princess’ face shutters. “I see,” she says and turns an unconvincing smile to Paya. Perhaps Link still knows the princess better than anyone else, because Paya doesn’t notice anything amiss. She turns towards the crowd.

“Let them through! You’ll have more than enough time to see them later, give them some space!”

Grateful for the sudden room, Link follows Paya towards Lady Impa’s abode. The princess follows after him, still the picture of royalty even in her ill-fitting Hylian tunic and torn dress.

“We knew you were coming, of course,” Paya chatters to Link when they walk towards the house. Between him and the princess, he’s clearly the person she feels more comfortable talking to. “And we knew you were the ones who finally defeated the Calamity! Oh, Grandmother was so happy!”

“How is your grandmother doing?” the princess asks. “The last time I saw her…”

But she falls silent and looks at the ground. When was the last time the princess saw Lady Impa? Link doesn’t even remember when he saw her last. Probably before they left for the Spring of Wisdom and Calamity Ganon broke free.

“Grandmother has kept an eye on the castle all this time, Your Highness,” Paya says. “She will be very relieved to see that you are well.”

Link nods at Dorian, who didn’t join the crowd that is trailing after them but instead keeps guard at Lady Impa’s residence. The man nods back with approval; Link hopes that with Ganon gone, the Yiga will hide away to lick their wounds and leave Kakariko village alone.

They finally leave the noise of the village behind and enter the large entrance hall that houses Lady Impa. Lady Impa herself is sat in her usual spot, but she is leaning forward as far as her age allows her, eyes fixed on them when they enter. The princess gasps.

“I- Impa?” she asks, rushing forward. She ends up in front of the dais, kneeling so she’s at eye level with Lady Impa. Link follows after her, more sedate. Paya closes the doors behind them and comes to stand to Link’s right.

“Is— Is the princess okay?” she asks. The princess seems lost for words. Link also doesn’t know the right words, but that is a far more common occurrence for him. He makes a so-so gesture with his hand when Lady Impa speaks.

“Princess, it is such a great pleasure to finally meet face-to-face again,” she says, voice choked up. Paya rushes forward to help her stand up; the princess, with a moment’s delay, goes to help, but Lady Impa waves her away.

“I am glad to see you are doing well,” the princess says faintly. Lady Impa’s smile turns mischievous.

“Ah, I imagine you are surprised to see me this way. That one —” she gestures at Link, “— didn’t even remember anything. Good thing we Sheikah can stick around so long, isn’t it?”

“I— Yes, it is a blessing,” says the princess. She is looking at the ground, not meeting Impa’s eyes. “Impa, what happened after I— After Fort Hateno? After I went back to the castle?”

Lady Impa sighs. Paya brings her to a low table, where she kneels down and gestures for Link and the princess to do the same.

“Paya, be a dear and find us some food and clean clothes for the princess, will you?” she says, casting an appraising look at the princess. The princess flushes, as does Link. There had been no time to get her better clothes. The stable didn’t sell anything and only allowed for them to wash up quickly. “You can stay here for the night, of course, but the inn might be more comfortable. You will be able to bathe there.”

“Impa…” the princess presses. Lady Impa waits until Paya has left the house and laboriously shifts at the table.

“Once you… awakened and traveled to the castle, Purah and Robbie took Link here to the Shrine of Resurrection. I am told that he had to be revived multiple times during the trip, but they made it there and sealed him in the shrine along with the Sheikah Slate.”

That is news for Link too. He knew he had come very close to death, but he didn’t expect it to be quite that close.

“And the rest of Hyrule?” the princess asks, voice barely audible. Lady Impa bows her head, eyes shadowed.

“Kakariko Village was spared, as you can see. These canyons allowed us to pick off the Guardians easily. And with your defense of Fort Hateno, Hateno Village and everything beyond it also remained unharmed. As for the villages in Central Hyrule…” Lady Impa shakes her head. “I fear those were already lost before you arrived at the castle, princess. There was nothing we could do. The survivors who chose to flee to Hateno Village were lucky. The ones that headed for Akkala Citadel…”

“Link told me it fell.”

“Yes. To this day, I am not sure how it happened. I can only imagine the army stationed there ran out of supplies and was overrun. Fortunately, most everything beyond that was spared from the Guardians, although the monsters continue to hamper our efforts to rebuild.”

“And Gerudo?” the princess presses. “Rito?”

“The Guardians don’t function well on sand,” Lady Impa explains. “They never made it to the town.”

“The Rito cut their bridges,” Link says. He’s momentarily surprised by the sound of his own voice; the princess and Lady Impa look surprised as well. He doesn’t quite remember who told him that, but he is very sure of it. Perhaps it was Kass or Teba, but he thinks it might just have been Revali.

“They were left quite unharmed,” Lady Impa affirms.

“And… What about the Divine Beasts?” the princess asks. “They were so close to the people, did they not— After everyone—”

“We can only imagine that Ganon’s monsters were hurt too grievously by the Champions,” Lady Impa says, eyes still shadowed, “for until recently, none of the Divine Beasts attacked anyone after their Champions fell. Link was able to free them from Ganon’s influence.”

Link nods, looking down at the surface of the table. The emptiness in his chest where the champions’ gifts used to reside still lingers and chills him to the bone. Now only the Divine Beasts remain, husks of themselves until a new champion comes along.

It’s at this point that Paya returns with food and new clothes for the princess, and the princess is ushered upstairs to change. Link remains seated, steadfastly avoiding Lady Impa’s eyes.

“It would be good for the princess to take some time off and see the land,” she says. When Link looks up, she has a knowing look in her eyes. “The people of Hyrule do not know yet that the princess has returned. Surely she can be excused for wanting to see what has become of Hyrule before taking up her throne.”

Link nods, eyes shifting back to the table. He has been afraid of the aftermath for so long. It never occurred to him that the princess must be afraid too. He knows they used to be closer but he is finding it hard to open up to her like before, not when his failure is the reason she was trapped with the Calamity for a century.

The princess reappears, dressed in simple Hylian traveler’s clothes with her hair pulled back. She could be any of the many travelers Link has met on his journey. Lady Impa nods approvingly.

“I still have your travel clothes from before, princess,” she says. “But I imagine you won’t want to stand out.”

“Thank you, Impa,” the princess replies. She carries her ceremonial dress over her arm. Link doubts it can be salvaged anymore, but perhaps Lady Impa can work a miracle, like she must have done with Link’s own Champion’s Tunic.

Lady Impa claps her hands. “It is late and you have traveled far. We shall have a meal before you retire.”

It is not that late — not even time for an early evening meal. But Link can eat anywhere and anytime, and he imagines the princess isn’t much different. Besides, the exhaustion from the previous days still lingers in his bones. He very much wishes to go somewhere quiet.

Lady Impa and Paya update the princess on the state of Hyrule during their meal. The princess remains quiet except for a few small questions here and there. Link tries to contribute what he knows, but he has only been revived for little more than a year. He does not know what happened in those long decades.

He expects that the princess will want to mingle after their meal, but like him, she has no desire to meet with the people in Kakariko Village. So they try renting a room at the inn, get their fee waived by the innkeeper, and spend the rest of the evening in the room while the sounds of celebration filter in from outside. No one seems to mind that their saviors aren’t actually celebrating along with them.

Link busies himself with checking his weapons. Not all of them survived — the pieces of Mipha’s trident, Revali’s bow and Urbosa’s shield are crushed underneath the rubble that was once the observatory of the Castle. He spends a long time staring at the tiny slip of blue fabric that had been tied to Revali’s bow. It is the only thing he managed to save. The weapons can be rebuilt, he knows, but he still feels guilty to have destroyed the ancient weapons so callously.

“Could I see the Sheikah Slate?” the princess asks. She carefully folds the ceremonial dress in her lap as Link gathers up his weapons and tucks the little blue scrap away in the pouch on his belt. He holds out the slate to the princess, who takes it with reverent hands. Will she want it back? It was hers before he used it.

He decides not to think about it just yet. Even if she reclaims the tablet, he still has his horses. He can get by without it.

He folds his arms behind his head and stares up at the ceiling, replying quietly while the princess marvels over the new runes and asks him questions about them. She lifts a metal pitcher with the Magnesis rune and freezes the water inside with Cryonis. Her eyes sparkle; she looks happier than she has in the past few days or even in the days before Ganon emerged.

He bolts upright when he hears the telltale whoosh of a bomb being summoned.

“Your Highness, please be —”

But the princess has already dismissed the bomb, clearly aware of what it is. She watches him carefully, happiness fading to make room for something regretful — and hopeful?

“You no longer need to protect me, Link,” she says, forming each word carefully. “There is no more need for formality between us. So please, won’t you call me Zelda?”

“I —” Call the princess by name? He couldn’t have in the past, not when he was merely a knight tasked to guard her. She is right — he is no longer a knight and she no longer needs his protection. But he failed her. Does he really have that right?

The princess is looking at him, the spark of hope rapidly fading from her eyes, so Link nods and watches that spark flare again. The princess gives him a quick but radiant smile and turns her attention back to the Sheikah Slate.

Link lies back down and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t get to call her by name — not when he has done nothing to earn it.

The next day dawns early, both for Link and the princess. The princess remained tossing and turning long into the night. More than once, she sat up abruptly, breathing fast and panicked. Once, well past midnight, she got out of bed and paced for a solid five minutes before glancing guiltily at Link and going back to bed.

Nevertheless, he thinks the princess looks a little better rested than she did yesterday. He himself feels better as well. Perhaps this is how it’s going to be: each day Ganon’s terror will be a little further away and Hyrule will be a little better for it.

The village is quiet when they venture outside. Only Dorian is already awake and guarding Lady Impa’s house, although the signs of the previous day’s celebration are still littered around the village.

“I am glad it is quiet now,” the princess whispers conspiratorially as they walk past Lady Impa’s residence and towards the upper parts of the village. The princess wishes to see the shrine in Kakariko Village and Link can only accompany her, even though part of him still aches to take the Sheikah Slate and go somewhere — anywhere — else.

The princess spends the morning marveling over the shrine and the Sheikah Slate while Link remains seated on the rocks nearby and keeps a half-hearted eye on their surroundings. The forests closest to Kakariko Village have always been safe, even before Ganon’s defeat. Dorian must have passed on where they went, because no one comes looking for them.

He shows the princess how to use the slate to travel the short distance from his rock to the Ta’loh Naeg shrine, and her giddy exhilaration when she reappears on the pedestal of the shrine is more than enough to erase his earlier misconceptions about letting her use it.

When they finally head back around noon, the princess is still talking a mile a minute. They didn’t enter the shrine — as far as combat trials go, Ta’loh Naeg was one of the easiest ones, but Link still doesn’t feel up to facing any kind of active Guardian and when he told her what was inside the shrine, the princess also blanched and agreed that they should find a less dangerous one. But the mere fact that she finally got to use the Sheikah Slate as it was intended is more than enough to keep her spirits up.

So against the odds, Link finds himself in a good mood when they enter the village again. His good mood is quickly ruined when they join Lady Impa for lunch and she updates them on the rest of Hyrule.

“The Guardians have all gone inactive,” she reports. “We also haven’t had any reports of Stal monsters since Ganon’s defeat and the other monsters have refrained from attacking travelers unless provoked first.”

That is all good news, so Link is already bracing for the blow when it comes.

“We have received reports from the Zora that Divine Beast Vah Ruta has gone dormant. I believe the same to be the case for the other Divine Beasts.”

And there it is. Link pulls out the Sheikah Slate with trembling hands and yes, the marks that used to indicate the Divine Beasts on the map are all gone. If the Divine Beasts have returned to their dormant states, the Guidance Stones inside are no longer functional.

He already knows that the champions are gone. He wishes people would stop confirming it.

The princess leans over to look at the map and comes to the same conclusion. “It is a pity we can’t go there easily,” she says. “I would have liked to study them.”

Any goodwill he built up in the morning abruptly evaporates. He shuts off the Sheikah Slate and tucks it away. The champions have only just moved on — does she really have to take their graves apart just to satisfy her curiosity?

“Can’t take us both,” he says curtly. He wonders how long it will take before the princess demands the slate back from him. The princess looks contemplative at his words.

“If we could fix that…”

“If you wish to make further improvements to the Sheikah Slate,” Lady Impa says, “perhaps you should talk to my sister.”

“Purah? Is she here?” asks the princess. Lady Impa shakes her head.

“We wished to keep our knowledge safe. I remained here, Robbie is in Akkala, and Purah has moved to Hateno Village. She has a laboratory there.”

“Then I would like to go there, if that is okay,” the princess says, turning to Link. Link avoids her eyes and nods, because what choice does he have? If nothing else, he’ll be able to check on his house and safely store the weapons of the champions that survived the battle.

“It is late. You will not make Hateno Village by nightfall if you leave now,” Lady Impa tells them. Link knows they could if they pushed the horses, but what use is there in hurrying when time stretches out in front of them, unending? “You should leave tomorrow. In the meantime, princess, we have received more reports on the state of Hyrule. I will have someone fetch them.”

The princess’ face goes blank and she straightens her shoulders into the posture Link recognizes from her worst days, when the king had dismissed her interests once again. She will go back to her duty as the rightful ruler of Hyrule.

He thinks this should be a good thing, but it feels very much like he just sealed his own fate.

They leave late into the morning, after Lady Impa has taken the princess aside once more and handed her the reports that came in after their meeting the previous day. The princess thanked her graciously, then turned around and shoved them into the saddlebags as soon as Lady Impa had disappeared from view.

Overall, Link is guiltily relieved to be on the road again and the princess appears to feel the same. Her shoulders relax once they leave the canyons surrounding the village and approach Kakariko Bridge. They have a quick lunch at the Dueling Peaks Stable, since it’s only barely out of their way, and then set off across Blatchery Plain.

The first time Link crossed the plain after his resurrection, he remembered next to nothing. The only active Guardians he’d come across had been the ones at the Eastern Abbey, and while they had been scary, they had also been easy to dodge. Seeing the Guardians littered across Blatchery Plain had been disconcerting, but nothing more than that.

By the time he regained his memories of their final stand at Fort Hateno, he had already crossed the plain so often that it didn’t make much of an impression anymore. He had almost died here, but it was so long ago and he had taken down so many Guardians since that it didn’t bother him.

He should have known that it would be different for the princess, but he is enjoying the silence and the surprising lack of monsters, so it doesn’t occur to him that the princess hasn’t said a single word in hours until they are almost at the ruined gates of Fort Hateno.

The princess is holding herself stiffly, barely even moving along with her horse and staring straight ahead as they follow the road. She doesn’t notice him looking at her. He wants to call out to her, but her name gets stuck in his throat. He coughs instead. The princess visibly tries to relax her shoulders and gives him a smile.

“Oh Link, are you okay?”

He nods and gestures, returning the question. Are you?

“Yes, yes, of course,” she says, “They’re all harmless now, aren’t they? Nothing to worry about, I’m fine.”

Of course she isn’t. If Link had any of Mipha’s gentleness or Urbosa’s way with words, he would have pressed her for more. But he doesn’t, so he doesn’t ask. Instead they ride through the gates of Fort Hateno in utter silence and the princess only starts relaxing again when they near Ovli Plain.

They make good time, but still the sun is already setting by the time they enter Hateno Village. They could still visit Purah — Hylia knows when she actually sleeps, because Link has never once caught her asleep — but they are both exhausted. It only takes them minimal conversation to agree to sleep first and visit Purah in the morning.

Link only bought the house on a whim. It was one of the very few things he felt a connection to and he had the money anyway. Still, he likes having a place of his own. No one bothers him here. His neighbors believe he is merely a traveling merchant who returns every once in a while.

The princess looks fascinated when he opens the door and lets her in. The last time he came here, it was just to pick up the champions’ weapons, so the house smells a little dusty. Nothing that can’t be alleviated by opening up a few windows. He does just that and then removes Urbosa’s Scimitar of the Seven and Daruk’s Boulder Breaker from the Sheikah Slate. They are the only weapons that survived his fight with Ganon. Without Daybreaker, Urbosa’s Scimitar looks lonely hung up on one side of the wall.

“This was Urbosa’s, wasn’t it?” the princess asks, silently coming to stand next to him. She reaches out a hand, but pulls back before touching the blade of the scimitar. “And Daruk’s. The others…?”

“Broken,” Link says, looking down. He thinks of the pieces scattered underneath his feet. He thinks of the scrap of cloth that used to decorate Revali’s bow and is still tucked away in his belt. The weapons can be repaired, but will they still be the same?

The princess blinks quickly, eyes once more drawn to Urbosa’s scimitar. “They would have been happy, I think. To know that their weapons were used to defeat the Calamity.”

Well, yes. He got explicit permission from each and every one of them. He turns away, takes off the belt that holds his sword and carries it up the stairs to put it on top of the drawer there. It brings him face to face with the picture Kass gave him: the champions, the princess and himself.

“Purah took that picture, didn’t she?” the princess says softly, coming up the stairs after him. Now, finally, he hears a waver in her voice. “I remember. At the castle garden. I didn’t think it had survived.”

“Kass had it. He’s Rito. A bard.”

“I’m glad it found its way to you after all this time.” She reaches out and touches the frame. “It’s been so long. I wish I could have spoken to them once more.”

Ah. The last time he saw the champions was just a few days ago. For the princess, it has been over a century. Some of his earlier anger fades, only to be replaced by an even deeper loneliness. How strange, to be the only person who really remembers them when he remembered nothing at all so very recently.

Night has now truly fallen. Link offers the princess his bed, which she takes with only a token protest. He puts his own bedroll on the floor near the stairs. It means that when he lies on his back, he catches sight of the frame with the picture of all the champions in the castle garden.

The princess is lying on her side, eyes closed but breathing too fast to be asleep. Tomorrow they’ll go to Purah, and after that… After that…

Link closes his eyes as well, but the picture is still at the forefront of his mind. He finds himself wishing, just for a moment, that they had a chance to all still be here together.

It’s hopeless, but it’s a nice thought. Unlike the previous nights, he dozes off quickly, the exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with him. His sleep is deep and dreamless, and he only comes out of it when he’s shaken awake by Cecili in the Swallow’s Roost.

Chapter Text

“Where’s the princess?”

Cecili, already back at her desk, makes a surprised noise that Link pays no mind to. He jumps from the bed and grabs the Master Sword, eyes darting around frantically. The princess is nowhere to be found. The only other Hylians in the inn are the couple Link usually avoids when he comes to Rito Village.

Why is he in Rito Village?

“Is everything okay?” Cecili asks. “Did you have a bad night?”

“Where’s the princess?” Link asks again, because that’s the only question that makes sense right now. Cecili moves her wings and throws an agitated look at the sleeping couple.

“The Hylian princess?” she says in a low voice. “Didn’t she perish in the fight with the Calamity? That’s what I’ve always been told.”

Link’s mind goes blank. He darts out of the inn, ignoring Cecili’s confused shouts and Verla’s surprised noises. He rushes up the stairway that spirals through Rito Village and spills onto Revali’s Landing, still empty this early in the morning. The castle is barely visible from here. He can’t see it properly; there’s something surrounding it, but is it merely a cloud, or—

With shaking hands, he activates the camera on the Sheikah Slate and holds it up. It takes him a few tries to get the right angle, too jittery to hold it properly, but when he zooms in…

The malice. Ganon’s malice is back, swirling around the castle like it used to for so many years. Ganon has returned. 

Or… Or has he? Cecili was just the same as always. The village is its usual sleepy self this early in the morning. If Ganon had returned, wouldn’t the village be in uproar? Did he only just come back and has no one noticed yet? 

Cecili said the princess had perished in the fight against the Calamity. But… But the Rito never really understood what happened a hundred years ago. Most of them still believe he is his own descendant. It doesn’t have to mean anything. 

Was defeating Ganon a mere dream, or something more? Dimly, he recalls how the princess spoke of the prophetic dreams her mother used to have, how she lamented that she never received them. Link rarely dreams at all, let alone dreams that are this detailed. He remembers every moment of the last five days. Could that really all be in his mind? 

He lowers the Sheikah Slate and sits down heavily on the edge of the platform. If nothing of the past five days really happened, then he needs to go back and defeat Ganon again. He checks the Sheikah Slate again. Urbosa’s Daybreaker and Mipha’s Lightscale Trident, which he so vividly remembers shattering in his hand, are still there. Revali’s Great Eagle Bow is intact, complete with the little scrap of blue fabric tied to it. All the Ancient Arrows he had Robbie make are still present and accounted for. 

And also… He didn’t even notice through the panic, but the empty space in his chest is warm again, filled with the champions’ gifts. He feels them simmering under his skin, tucked close to his heart. He could climb up to Medoh now and find Revali, warp to Ruta and see Mipha. They’re back. 

By all accounts, he never lost them at all. He never went into battle.

Which means he has to do it all over again. 

The village is waking up. Very soon, someone will catch him here and ask him questions he doesn’t feel fit to answer; the very reason he wanted to spend the night in the inn in the first place. So Link takes a running leap off the Landing and steers himself away from the village. There’s no point putting it off. Unbidden, he remembers the fight with Ganon he thought he had five days ago. He cannot get distracted by what he thinks he knows. Complacency in a fight like this could cost him his life and the rest of Hyrule.

But still, he remembers the poor horse that came to his aid and the way it suffered as a result. He remembers the seemingly endless journey he and the princess undertook to reach Wetlands Stable. So instead of going straight to the castle, he veers off towards Rito Stable.

He doesn’t quite make it to the stable. When he lands, he’s immediately greeted by cries for help from a Hylian traveler accosted by two Moblins. The sight of them almost comes as a shock. He hasn’t seen any in five days. 

They’re blue Moblins, but a few well-placed arrows still make short work of them. The traveler meets him with effusive gratitude.

“I just left the stable!” he tells Link, who really isn’t very interested in hearing it. “They swore up and down that there wouldn’t be any monsters on this road, can you believe it?” 

Link makes a vague noise and studies the man’s outfit with a critical eye. He’s headed deeper into the Hebra Mountains, but he’s wearing nothing more than the kind of warm doublet Link also has stuffed away somewhere. It cannot possibly stand up against the cold in Hebra. Link doesn’t feel like telling him. He’ll learn soon enough.

“You’ve got to let me thank you! Hold on—“ the man rummages through his backpack and triumphantly emerges with a spicy elixir. “Here, it’s great for the cold.”

Link casts a glance at his own Snowquill set, which he hasn’t yet exchanged for his stronger Champion’s tunic, then at the man’s wholly unsuited clothes, and wordlessly accepts the elixir. There’s no helping those who don’t want to be helped.

He acquires enough stamina boosts and medicine to heal his horse twice over before setting out to the castle again. His appearance at the shrine goes unnoticed by the monsters at the docks, and he sneaks into the library with little trouble. He thinks there might be a monster or two more than he remembers, but he takes them out easily. He reminds himself once more to not get complacent. To not let what he thinks is going to happen, get in the way of what actually happens.

Only… It really is as he remembers. He arrives just as the princess loses control over the Calamity and sees Ganon immediately shot down by the champions’ Divine Beasts. Once more, they fall into the Observatory where Ganon pulls out the same attacks again. He’s done this before. 

Which isn’t to say that the fight is easy. The Calamity is lightning-fast and hits like a boulder, and Link still loses Urbosa’s Daybreaker to an attack Daruk can’t shield him from. He once again has to dive for the blue scrap on Revali’s Great Eagle Bow when it shatters in his hands. But this time, his throws with Mipha’s trident don’t go wild, and by the time the fight moves to Hyrule Field and the princess gifts him the Bow of Light, the Lightscale Trident is safely tucked into the Sheikah Slate again.

The horse that comes to him is the same one he remembers and as before, Link isn’t quite successful in keeping it out of firing range. But Ganon’s beastly form is slow and lumbering, and Link thinks he could probably outpace it even on foot. For now, he sends the horse away when it starts slowing down, afraid it will get hurt as badly as he remembers if he lets it stay nearby; not long after, he lands the final arrow in Ganon’s head with another boost from Revali’s Gale. 

And once more, it is the princess who finishes off the Calamity in the end. 

When the light around her fades and her feet touch the ground, Link has trouble meeting her eyes. Here they are again, just as he remembers. The princess moves forward, steps hesitant and fumbling, but anything she might want to say is interrupted by Link’s horse coming up to nuzzle at his shoulder.

Link quickly turns around and pats down its flank. It isn’t nearly as badly hurt as the horse in his memories, but he still fishes out the medicine he got at Rito Stable. The horse needs some coaxing, but after a few seconds, Link gets it eating.

“Is it all right?” the princess asks. Her voice is quiet like he remembers it being, unused to speaking after a century of almost no contact with the outside world. Link nods and rewards the horse with an apple once it has finished taking the medicine. 

“We should find shelter for the night,” the princess says. It is later than it was last time he remembers beating Ganon, but not by much. Link looks at the castle and the princess shudders, shaking her head before he can even suggest going there.

“Wetlands Stable is nearby. And Riverside,” he says instead. His horse is already visibly looking better. It will be up for carrying a rider.

The princess approaches and gingerly pats the horse. It is a gentle horse and it only shivers when touched. 

“Can it carry both of us?” the princess asks. No, it definitely cannot. Gentle it may be, but it’s not a strong horse and Link wishes it weren’t this horse that showed up for the fight. He has horses that are much stronger and could actually carry both of them. Fortunately, he does have a solution. 

There had been no point to summoning the Master Cycle Zero in his memories, not when the horse was so grievously wounded that they’d have to move at walking speed the entire way anyway, but this time it’s perfect. He takes the Sheikah Slate and summons it; the princess can take the horse and he’ll take his Master Cycle.

“Oh?” The princess, predictably, eyes the Master Cycle with fascination. She takes a step closer. “This is… Sheikah technology?”

“Under the Shrine of Resurrection. There’s a chamber,” Link tries to explain. The monk at the shrine said the Master Cycle was a Divine Beast, but can it really be? It is so much smaller than the other Divine Beasts. He barely knows how it works and still discovers new functions periodically; today there are four lights over the fuel gauge that he sincerely hopes don’t mean the Master Cycle will explode underneath him before they reach the Stable. 

“I never knew!” The princess reaches out a hand. “May I?”

Link nods and steps back, letting the princess study the Master Cycle to her heart’s content. The castle is back to how he remembers it: no longer wreathed in malice but still a crumbling ruin. The sun is already past its highest point and he keeps an uneasy eye on it. The gifts of the champions still simmer in his chest. How much longer does he have? If he went to any of the Divine Beasts right now, could he still meet their spirits?

“We should go,” the princess says, straightening up from where she’d been studying the front of the Master Cycle. “But… If at all possible, could I look at it again later? And the Sheikah Slate?”

Link nods. The princess, satisfied, gathers the reins of the horse and mounts it with some difficulty. It takes her a little while to get used to horse riding again, but the horse is patient with her and soon they are crossing Hyrule Field at a steady trot. 

The roar of his Master Cycle makes conversation hard, and Link is secretly glad for it. He still doesn’t understand what’s going on. Almost everything that happened today matches what he remembers. He does not believe he can have such a realistic dream, but what other option is there? He doesn’t want to tell the princess. Either she would laugh it off or find a new fascinating research subject in him.

They pass Mabe Village in good time and the sun is setting when the Hylia river comes into sight. Link’s chest starts burning when they actually cross it.

He hits the brakes on the Master Cycle. This too he remembers, and he wishes he could have forgotten it. He had been elated to find the champions’ gifts back where they belonged this morning. But of course it wasn’t to be: everything else played out exactly as he remembers, so why shouldn’t this?

“Link, what’s wrong?” The princess steers the horse back to where he’s stopped. Link shakes his head. The burn intensifies and then fades away, taking all the warmth in his body with it. It’s the second time he’s felt this and it hurts no less for it.

“Link?” the princess dismounts. Link grits his teeth and roughly wipes a hand over his face.

“Gone,” he says, following it up with the signs the champions and the Divine Beasts share. He still can’t bring himself to say their names out loud. Somehow, that would make it more real.

“… I see.” The princess looks like she wants to touch him, but refrains. “May Hylia embrace their souls.” 

She hasn’t seen them in decades, Link reminds himself. She hasn’t talked to them, or laughed with them, for over a century. There’s no reason why she should mourn like he does.

He gets back onto the Master Cycle and waits only just long enough for the princess to get back on the horse before taking off. There’s no point talking about it. Talking won’t make them come back.

The hour is late when they reach Wetlands Stable, but not so late that no one is awake anymore. Since his horse isn’t actually on its last legs, he doesn’t have to deal with an angry stable owner and he acquires food and beds in short order. Even though their trip took them much less time, Link still feels the exhaustion deep in his bones and the princess looks no different. She falls asleep almost as soon as they’ve finished eating and Link follows soon after.

It is quite late in the morning when he’s woken by the princess getting up. He has a good idea of where she’s going, so he feigns sleep while she leaves and stays in the bed a little while longer before forcing himself out and following her to the shrine. She’s sitting on the dais and gives him a small wave when he appears. 

“Are they all active now?” she asks. Link nods. 

“The Great Plateau Tower. It activated them all.”

The princess nods and runs a hand over the cyan lines of the shrine. “I would like to enter one,” she says softly.

“There’s Guardians in this one,” Link says. Only scouts that are easily dealt with, but the princess carries no weapons and he doesn’t know how strong her divine power still is. 

The princess shudders and shakes her head. “Later, perhaps.” She rises to her feet. “Shall we?”

They have gained an entire day compared to last time, but when they enter Kakariko Village, celebrations are already underway. Link, who is also on horseback today, winces as the loud sounds reach them even before they round the final bend to the village; the princess straightens her back. 

It is once again Paya who saves them from the crowd of people and leads them to Lady Impa’s house. Lady Impa has fewer updates for them, but Link’s head hurts by the time they leave her residence and he is happy to find a quiet room in the inn. The princess asks for the Sheikah Slate again and spends a long time poring over the map. 

“When you activated the Great Plateau Tower,” the princess says, hands toying over the icons of the runes. Link notices that in her hands, the rune for the Master Cycle is inactive. “What happened exactly? The shrines became active?”

Link nods. The princess opens the map. “And if I touch these?”

“You go to the shrine. Your highness, be careful!” Link hurries to say when her hand strays towards the Hebra Mountains. The princess lets her hand fall. She closes her eyes for a brief moment and takes a deep breath. When she looks at him, her eyes shine with a fragile hope and Link already knows what she’s going to ask. 

“Link, you need not stand on formality. You no longer serve as my guard. So please, won’t you call me Zelda?”

He cannot stand seeing the hope in her eyes fade, so he nods even though he still has no plans of doing so. It doesn’t feel right, not when he still doesn’t know what his duty is in this world after Ganon’s defeat and he still can’t figure out whether his memories were a dream or real. 

“There’s a spicy elixir,” he says to divert the subject. “In the slate. Should you ever—” 

He gestures at the map on the slate. The princess makes a surprised noise. “You don’t need it?”

Link shakes his head and hastens to elaborate. “Got it from a traveler, this morning. I was near the Stable in Tabantha. Blue Moblins attacked him.”

“Ah, I see.” The princess nods to herself, looking like a great deal just became clear to her. Though what exactly, Link can’t fathom. Her eyes stray back to the map.”If we’d just been able to use this before…”

“It can only take one person,” Link says. He wants to cut the discussion short as soon as possible. He doesn’t want to think about how they could have saved the champions if only the Sheikah Slate had worked properly. 

The princess must have been thinking along the same lines, for she continues: “I should like to visit the people of Hyrule. Is… Is Mipha’s family still alive?”

Link nods, thinking of Sidon and King Dorephan and the giant statue of Mipha that graces Zora’s Domain. 

“They deserve some closure, I do believe. Do you think Purah would be able to expand the capabilities of the Sheikah Slate?”

Again, Link nods. Purah may have the body and the energy of a six-year-old, but her intellect hasn’t waned. She and Robbie might be the only people in Hyrule capable of upgrading the Sheikah Slate. 

“Then we ought to see her. And if you know of a shrine that would be safe to visit, I would like to see it as well.”

Link thinks. The shrine closest to Kakariko Village isn’t an option, given the Guardian Scout inside. But perhaps…

“There is a shrine nearby. It is safe.”

Gaining entrance to the Lakna Rokee shrine had been hard-fought, but the shrine itself was left completely empty after he received the blessing of the Sheikah monk inside. It is only a little more than an hour’s walk from the village and both he and the princess had another restless night, so the sun is still low in the sky when they reach their destination. 

Link shows the princess how to enter the shrine and then waits, anxious, as she disappears inside. He knows that there’s nothing in there that could hurt her. The worst she could do is drown in the shallow puddle of water surrounding the walkway. But still he worries, and he feels naked without the Sheikah Slate on him. He is still carrying the Master Sword, as well as a bow, his quiver and a shield, but all of his additional weapons are locked in the slate. This is a peaceful meadow, but he’s fought the Yiga here once and he doesn’t know when they’ll come back from licking their wounds. He’s spent too long surviving the wilds of Hyrule to just drop his guard now.

The princess spends far more time in the shrine than Link thinks it warrants. She only reappears over an hour later, when Link is starting to wonder if she really did drown down there. Her face is flush with excitement and she’s waving the Sheikah Slate around when she reemerges.

“I took some pictures, I hope you don’t mind!” she says, already shoving the Sheikah Slate in Link’s face. The pictures she took appear to involve a great number of walls with lines on them. One of the final ones has an ice block in it. 

“I used the rune,” the princess gushes. “I wish we’d known the Sheikah Slate could do that. Did Purah find those runes?”

Link shakes his head. “On the Great Plateau.” He switches to the map and points out the right shrines. “Four runes.”

“These are so fascinating,” the princess says, eyes glittering. They start back down on the path to Kakariko Village together. “They’re like the Divine Beasts but more structured, you know? I wonder if the shrines were built at the same time or later on.” 

Link nods along. The history and technology of the Sheikah was always more the princess’ thing than Link’s. Beyond solving their puzzles — or surviving the scouts they'd left to forcibly improve his combat skills — he’s never had any great thoughts about the shrines; he’s just glad that only one of the monks ever tried to beat him up. 

They get back to Kakariko Village early enough that most of the villagers are only just starting their day. The princess visibly hesitates in front of Lady Impa’s residence.

“I should inform her that we will ride for Hateno Village,” she says. “You need not come with me.”

Link shakes his head. He doesn’t feel like coming along, but the princess clearly feels like it even less. The current state of Hyrule is nothing new for Link but it was harrowing for the princess, and she spent a long time in silence after she and Lady Impa talked the day before. 

The princess gives him a small smile when he follows her inside and they spend another uncomfortable hour hearing more updates about Hyrule after Ganon’s defeat. Lady Impa doesn’t mention the Divine Beasts deactivating, and when Link surreptitiously checks the map, their access points are still active. He does not know when they’ll disappear.

They manage to set out shortly before noon and eat on horseback while they follow Lake Siela. They’re not quite pushing the horses, but they still intend to make it to Hateno Village before nightfall. That means they reach Fort Hateno in the early evening and the princess, quietly, suggests they pause for food when she spots the cooking pot just beyond the fort.

She is silent all throughout the meal, looking pensively at the crumbling walls of the fort. Only when Link has thrown the remainders of their food at some nearby foxes and returned, does she speak.

“I didn’t know whether you’d survived, you know,” she says. “Or Impa and Purah and everyone else. We never had an occasion to test the Shrine of Resurrection. We didn’t even know if it would work or if we were just giving you a fancy grave.”

Link grimaces. He only has vague memories of facing the seemingly endless flood of Guardians. If he had died there, would he have moved on? Or would he have remained tethered like the champions are?

Were. Like the champions were.

“If only I’d mastered this power in time,” the princess says, opening and closing her hands. A faint, flickering glow appears around them but disappears as quickly as it came. “I feel weaker now, did you know? I spent so much power during that fight. If Ganon were to return, I do not know if I could keep him in check again.”

Link jolts. Does she know? But the princess stares wistfully at the Sheikah Slate on Link’s belt.

“If only we’d understood… If I’d spent more time working on the slate…”

Link shakes his head vehemently. “You didn’t get the chance,” he says. He knows the princess blames herself. She has always blamed herself and will probably continue blaming herself for the rest of her days. But this? The king had been adamant that the princess was wasting her time, no matter how much joy she found in her studies of the ancient artifacts. 

“Perhaps Father was right,” the princess continues. “If I’d tried harder, everyone would still be alive.” Her face pulls into a grimace and she blinks rapidly, tears beading up. “My father is dead and it’s my fault, I—“

“Not your fault.” Link shakes his head again. It’s the only way he knows how to convey his meaning. “His Majesty—“ 

Link pauses, trying to find the right words. He didn’t like the old man who greeted him at the Great Plateau. The man was pushy and the sight of him with the paraglider awakened a rage Link didn’t think himself capable of. Finding out he was the king didn’t change his opinion. And yet he was a man who clearly regretted his actions and loved his daughter.

“His Majesty spoke to me. He was proud. And sorry.”

“My— My father? He was alive?” The princess looks stricken, tears now streaming down her cheeks. Link looks down.

“His spirit greeted me. I do not know if…” If he’s still around. The spirits of the champions are already gone. Why should the king get to stay longer?

The princess wipes her face on her sleeve in a decidedly un-princess-like gesture. She tucks her legs underneath herself and clutches at the hem of her tunic. She is still crying, but the hitching of her shoulders slowly stops. She looks up at Link, eyes shining.

“Thank you, Link. It means a lot.”

They stay until the sun truly starts setting and they have to move on if they want to reach Hateno Village before the hour becomes too late. Once, they spot a Bokoblin, but the monster scurries away when it sees their horses coming. The monsters have become surprisingly scarce, even in the places where Link used to see them all the time. Without Ganon’s malice, are they still dangerous?

It is already dark when they enter Hateno Village. Link leads the princess across the small bridge that leads to his house. 

“This is your house?” the princess asks when they enter. Link nods. He points out where the princess can refresh herself and goes back outside to take care of the horses, tying them securely to the posts and feeding them some of the dozens of apples he has stored in the Sheikah Slate. He doesn’t normally come here on horseback so the place isn’t equipped to house a horse long-term, let alone two. Tomorrow he’ll need to go out and buy more supplies.

… That is, if there is a tomorrow. He remembers going to sleep in Hateno before waking up in Rito Village.

When he goes back inside, he finds the princess looking at the picture of the champions. Coming here to the picture never used to bother him: as long as he could just warp to the Divine Beasts and talk to them, or use any of their gifts and see them, the loss didn’t feel so acute. Now they are gone and this single picture is the only depiction of them that he has left.

“I wish I could have seen them before they moved on,” the princess says when she hears him come in. She doesn’t turn around, eyes fixed on the picture. “And Father.”

Link wordlessly moves up the stairs and comes to a stop next to her. If the Sheikah Slate had been able to transport both of them, they might have been able to see them before they moved on. If the Sheikah Slate had been able to do that, they might not have died in the first place.

“I don’t actually remember much of it. Being in the castle.” The princess throws him a sideways look. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I was controlling Ganon or Ganon was controlling me. I just… I had to keep going or all of Hyrule would be destroyed, but I didn’t even know if there was a Hyrule left. I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive until I felt you waking up.”

Link looks down. He can’t fathom what it was like, being in the castle for so many years. 

“I’m glad that I get to see the rest of Hyrule,” the princess concludes. She turns away from the picture. Link takes that as his cue to offer her his bed for the night. He ignores her token protests in favor of spreading out his own bedroll. He tries not to let his nerves show, but he still wonders: will he wake up in Rito Village again? The more time passes, the easier it is to believe that it was all just a very strange dream. 

But sleep is hard to come by and when he finally dozes into a restless sleep, long past midnight, it is with the picture of the champions still clear in his mind.

He wakes up to the sound of people outside and the princess gingerly getting out of bed. She makes a surprised sound when she notices him awake and whispers a quick sorry. Link shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. He’s still in Hateno Village. Perhaps it really was just a dream. 

They have breakfast in the village. The princess doesn’t talk much but observes the coming and going with keen interest. Hateno Village is bigger than Kakariko Village, although only barely, and it is something of a thoroughfare for those travelers who manage to make it all the way out here. It is still one of the biggest places in Hyrule short of Gerudo Town and Zora’s Domain. Link doesn’t remember much from before, but he thinks he remembers the hustle and bustle of Castle Town and how small Hateno Village is by comparison.

With their breakfast finished, the princess is eager to visit Purah. Link wonders if he should warn her about Purah’s new look and decides against it. Purah is an experience that should go unspoiled.

It is a bit of a trek to Purah’s observatory, but the weather is nice and the hour is still early by the time they reach the top. The door is ajar — clearly they’re expected.

“Purah?” the princess calls, knocking on the open door. There’s a crash of something that sounds fragile and the next moment a long-suffering Symin pulls the door open.

“Link,” he greets. “Your Highness. Please join us.”

The princess follows Link inside gingerly. Purah straightens up from a table that once appears to have supported a truly astounding amount of glasswork, most of which has now met its end on the floor.

“Linky!” she shouts. “Princess! You’ve got boots on, right? Be careful where you step!”

“Purah?” the princess asks. She looks completely baffled. Link gives her a small grin and a shrug.

“Oh, don’t mind that,” Purah says. “Got myself into a bit of a pinch with some rune experiments, it’ll wear off eventually and then I’ll look just like my little sis!”

Surprise makes the princess hide behind an overly formal veneer. “Purah, it is lovely to see you,” she says. “I am truly glad that we got the chance to meet again. I wish to thank you for everything you have done for myself and for Link.”

Purah’s smile becomes a little more rueful. “Yes, well,” she gestures at Link. “We promised we’d get him back in one piece, didn’t we?” Her smile widens. “I’d call it a successful experiment!”

“Let us not repeat it.” The princess smiles too, now fully over her surprise. “Purah, we wished to know—“

“Not here, not here!” Purah jumps off her chair and dodges the glass shards. “Symin, clean this up, will you? We’ll be over there!” 

She leads Link and the princess to the other side of the room. “So, how are you feeling?” she asks the princess. “Any muscle weakness? Soreness? Interesting scars?”

“I— No,” the princess pulls her arm away when Purah tries to lift it. “I am fine, thank you.”

“Hmm, interesting. Linky here was fine too.” Purah makes a note. “Your power must be able to sustain a body indefinitely, then.” She grins. “Think of the possibilities! If we combine that with the Shrine of Resurrection—“

“Purah,” the princess interrupts gently. “We had a question. About the Sheikah Slate.”

“Oh? Linky never lets me see it anymore. What do you need?” She holds out her hands to Link. Link reluctantly unhooks the slate from his belt and hands it to her.

“Link has told me that it is possible to move across Hyrule using the Sheikah Slate. Yet as of now, its capabilities are limited to one person. Can it be made to take multiple people at once?” The princess falters. “I would like to visit the people of Hyrule and find out what is needed to rebuild.”

“Hmmm, saddling me with the hard requests, huh?” Purah pats the slate. “Good! I could use a challenge. Why don’t you let me keep this for the day while you two go do some sight-seeing? Just come back here by evening and we can get this figured out.”

Link frowns. He’d hoped to take the slate to drop off the broken champions’ weapons with Harth and Buliara. He supposes it can wait. He still has more than enough weapons to defend himself, especially now that the monsters have become far less aggressive.

Getting the slate upgraded will be better in the long run, he reminds himself when Purah ushers them out. But the feeling of unease doesn’t fade. Far too often, he finds himself reaching for the slate, only to find the hooks on his belt empty. He hasn’t gone this long without it in months.

They spend the day in relative peace. Link goes out to buy food for the horses while the princess heads deeper into the village with the intent to talk to the people. As in Wetlands Stable, the villagers of Hateno Village do not recognize her as the princess who disappeared a hundred years ago. Link thinks the princess looks relieved; he can sympathize. Being recognized for who he was, especially when he himself remembered nothing at all, always set him on edge in the early days of his journey and even now he prefers the relative anonymity of being just another traveler who passes through every once in a while.

Once, he ventures out of the village and down the road back to Fort Hateno. There he spots some of the Bokoblins that ducked out of sight yesterday. They do not notice him, something that would have been impossible before Ganon’s defeat. It makes him wonder: how much of the monsters’ aggression was caused by Ganon’s influence? These Bokoblins seem perfectly happy to climb into a nearby tree and toss apples at each other.

It is late afternoon when he regroups with the princess and they head back to Purah. Purah is still bent over the slate when Symin lets them in and barely looks up when they stop at her table.

“You sure gave me a challenge here!” she says, switching rapidly between screens on the Sheikah Slate. “I sent a message to Robbie, he’s been fiddling with all the ancient stuff for years. Should get a reply in another few days.”

Link grimaces. He’d hoped for something faster. Perhaps that was too much to hope for, when it took Purah years to upgrade the camera rune properly.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” the princess asks.

“Yep!” Purah closes out of the map with a swift gesture. “You can take me to Hateno Tower tomorrow. I wanna see that Guidance Stone up close!”

“Oh! Yes, we can do that, right?” The princess glances at Link. Link nods. Hateno Tower is only a couple of hours away. They don’t even need to push the horses.

“Well then, you come pick me up here tomorrow morning and we’ll see if we can crack this mystery.” Purah pats the slate. “Sure would make rebuilding everything a lot faster, wouldn’t it? Reminds me, I’ve got some plans for that. I’ll dig them up tomorrow.”

The princess looks down. Her voice gains that formal edge again. “Thank you. That would be a great help.”

Perhaps Purah also notices that the princess’ mood has changed, for she ushers them out soon after. Link has to insist on getting the slate back. Clearly Purah wouldn’t have objected to working through the night, but he’s been on edge all day without it and he doesn’t feel up to spending an even worse night than the previous one. It’s his second night in Hateno. Is this where he’ll wake up tomorrow again?

He glances at the picture of the champions. When he opens the slate for one last look at the map, the icons that lead to the Divine Beasts have disappeared.

Both he and the princess wake up near sunrise to the sounds of the village coming to life again. He sees his own exhaustion mirrored in her face. They both spent another restless night, keeping each other awake but too polite to say anything about it. Perhaps he should leave the house to the princess tomorrow and go sleep in the inn himself.

Purah clearly had no such issues. She greets them with good cheer and claims a spot in front of Link on his horse. This horse is not the one that came to help him during the fight against Ganon and is perfectly capable of carrying the weight of a six-year-old in addition to Link himself, but it still scrapes its hoof when Purah gets a bit too active.

The journey to Hateno Tower does not occur in the near-silence Link has become used to. Instead, Purah starts talking the moment they go down the hill and doesn’t show any sign of stopping. The princess tries her best to keep up as Purah updates them on all of her research, the state of Hateno and the rest of Hyrule, the landscape around them and everything else that crosses her mind. Meanwhile, Link’s grip on the reins is growing steadily tighter, until his knuckles are white and he is steering the horse with choppy movements that have it jerking against his commands. 

Even that isn’t enough to stop Purah. He wants to ask her to stop, but the more she speaks, the further away his words flee, until he can’t even use his hands anymore. The princess glances at him, then at his hands on the reins and back to his face, which he is keeping carefully neutral even though he is certain his eyes are showing his panic.

“Ah, Purah?” she calls gently. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. I have a slight headache. Would you mind if we didn’t talk for a little bit?”

“Oh, I’ve got something for that!” Purah twists in the saddle. Link jerks the reins in alarm and his horse protests loudly. The princess quickly reaches out a hand.

“No, no, there’s no need! Just a few minutes of silence will serve me perfectly well!” 

By some divine mercy, Purah actually listens and the rest of the trip to Hateno Tower occurs in blessed silence. Link will need to remember to thank the princess as soon as he manages to unclench his hands from the reins. 

When they reach the tower, the princess dismounts first and helps Purah off Link’s horse. Purah immediately makes a beeline for the tower, but the princess lingers.

“Are you okay?” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Link shakes his head and manages to free one hand from the reins to gesture Thank you. He unhooks the Sheikah Slate from his belt and hands it to the princess, who catches on immediately.

“Join us when you’re ready, okay?” 

She follows Purah up to the Tower, leaving Link alone with the horses. The horse he’s on neighs and Link finally manages to let go of the reins and dismount. He buries his face against the horse’s flank. He doesn’t usually spend this much time in Purah’s company. It’s not that he can’t handle people talking to him. But most people understand when he gets overwhelmed, even if he can’t properly express it. Purah, with her scientific curiosity and six-year-old mind, does not.

It takes him another twenty minutes and several drinks of water before he feels ready to join them in the tower. When he reaches the top, he finds an exhausted princess who climbed to the top, and an excited Purah who did not. Fortunately, all of her focus is now on the Guidance Stone and she doesn’t even acknowledge Link’s appearance. She has the Sheikah Slate on the Guidance Stone and is busily moving through screens that Link has never seen before.

“Oh, I wish we’d had this before,” she mutters. “There’s so much here! This entire network, all the shrines… They’re all connected!” 

Yes, Link already knew that. But as long as Purah keeps talking to herself, she’s not talking to him. They stay up in the tower for several hours while Purah tinkers with the slate, occasionally calling for the princess’ help. Link tries to let it wash over him. From the top of the tower, he can just see all of the Divine Beasts. Vah Ruta has its trunk lowered. He can’t quite make out Vah Medoh and Vah Rudania without the camera on the Sheikah Slate, but Vah Naboris has also lowered its neck. The Divine Beasts truly have gone dormant.

“Okay, I think I’ve got the shape of it. We can definitely get it working again,” Purah announces when the sun is already far past its highest point. “But I’m gonna need some stuff, and Robbie’s help.”

“What do you need?” the princess asks.

“Guardian parts, stuff like that.” Purah waves the slate around. “You’ve got plenty of stuff in here already, Linky, but I’m gonna need some more. Giant Cores, for sure.”

“Could you make a list?” asks the princess. Purah nods.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll have it for you tomorrow. You gonna do some hunting?”

The princess doesn’t react to that. “Do you think you could have it for us tonight? So we can get an early start tomorrow,” she adds with a glance at Link. Link appreciates it. Setting out without having to face Purah tomorrow morning will make the day much more bearable.

Purah looks from the princess to Link and shrugs. “Sure, if you want.”

Getting Purah back down the tower proves to be something of a logistical challenge. There are no shrines nearby that she could warp to and Link doesn’t feel comfortable letting her keep the Sheikah Slate while he and the princess make their way back to the village with no spare weapons. In the end, Link flies her down with his paraglider while the princess climbs down. That means he has to hold her off until the princess rejoins them. He may be willing to hand Purah the Sheikah Slate, but he is not letting her take apart his paraglider.

Being in the body of a six-year-old apparently means that Purah also gets tired like one. She falls asleep on the journey back to Hateno Village and Link exchanges a look of profound relief with the princess, who smiles at him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I forgot she can be a lot.”

Link shakes his head. It’s okay now that Link can hear his own thoughts again. They ride in silence and drop Purah off with Symin before taking a late dinner. 

“I think Purah can figure it out,” the princess says over dinner. “If that’s okay, as soon as the slate can take us both, I would like to go to Zora’s Domain.”

Link can’t help but be surprised. He would have expected the princess to visit Gerudo Town first. 

“They will remember me there, I think,” the princess adds when she sees Link’s confusion. Link nods. Zora’s Domain has always been fraught for him for exactly that reason. It is nice to know that some people still remember what Hyrule was like before, but back when he himself remembered nothing at all, the expectations and grudges of the Zora were hard to bear. The princess never forgot. It must be different for her.

Symin finds them later in the evening with the list Purah has drawn up. Link goes over his inventory. He has plenty of screws and he only needs a few more cores, but Giant Ancient Cores are always hard to come by and Purah needs several of them. He tries to remember which of the shrines contained them, but draws a blank. Perhaps tomorrow he will be able to think clearly again.

“We should sleep,” the princess says when they clear away all the ancient parts. The moon is visible through the window, thankfully with no red in sight. He feels tired down to his bones and his head still hasn’t quite recovered from Purah’s incessant chatter. He dozes off quickly and he thinks the princess does too. 

When Cecili wakes him at sunrise in Rito Village, he almost can’t bring himself to be surprised.

Chapter Text

Right. Not a dream then.

Link sits up, throws off the covers and swings his feet onto the cold wood of the floor. Not a dream, nor some kind of prophetic vision sent by the Goddess to help him fight the Calamity. He gets out of the bed and methodically puts the covers back in place. He repeated the fight against the Calamity. He needs to go out and repeat it again. 

He puts on his boots, nods at Cecili and leaves the inn. Climbing up to the Landing is a mere formality. He already feels the champions’ gifts back in his chest, offering some warmth against the overwhelming chill overtaking him. He tries to think it through. This is the second time he’s woken up in Rito Village after he’s already defeated the Calamity and gone to sleep in Hateno Village. But this time, he spent more than one night in Hateno. Both times, he returned to Rito Village five nights after defeating the Calamity. Is that it? Is he doomed to repeat the same stretch of five days for the rest of his life?

… Is everyone else?

He slips out onto the landing and opens the Sheikah Slate to catch his glimpse of the castle. The weather is perfectly clear, just as it was the last time he ended up here. It’s clear enough to catch the Malice swirling around the castle. Did he send the princess back into the castle after she was finally free of it? Does she remember? 

Cecili and Verla didn’t act any different. None of the people he talked to in the first repeat mentioned anything out of the ordinary. If everyone remembered, then Purah would definitely have talked about it. Or did he miss it through her incessant chatter? No, he wouldn’t have.

He takes a deep breath to clear the budding panic in his chest. So he has to defeat the Calamity again. He’s done it before. But what if he’s been going about it the wrong way? Is that the reason he’s back here? Is the Goddess Hylia unsatisfied with the way they brought the Calamity to its end?

And what can he do differently? 

He could use other tactics. Perhaps he could gain entrance to the castle in some other way. It feels trivial. Why would such tiny things be enough to change the very course of time? But he has never understood the ways of the gods. And who else but them could have caused this?

He considers asking the princess and immediately shies away from the thought, unable to face the prospect of her despair when she learns that their victory will only last five days.

He jumps off the Landing and steers back in the direction of Rito Stable. When he reaches the other side of Lake Totori, he is greeted by a familiar scene: the same Hylian traveler with his ill-suited clothes being harassed by the same two Moblins.

Although… Link squints as he folds the paraglider away. He distinctly remembers the Moblins being blue last time. They are black now, and more difficult to dispatch because of it. He finishes the fight by running the final one through with the Master Sword and picks up an arrow that missed its target. The Hylian traveler, who at least had enough common sense to hide while Link took care of the Moblins, meets him with relieved gratitude.

“I just left the stable!” he tells Link again. “They swore up and down that there wouldn’t be any monsters on this road, can you believe it?” 

Link makes a vague sound. As if any traveler can ever be sure that no monsters lurk in the area. Most travelers at least carry some kind of weapon, but if this guy is carrying any, Link can’t see them.

“You’ve got to let me thank you! Hold on—“ the man rummages through his backpack and fishes out the same spicy elixir. “Here, it’s great for the cold.”

Well. At least now Link knows for sure that he’s the only one who remembers. Because the man clearly learned nothing and still can’t recognize a Snowquill Set or remember why he would be better served keeping his elixir. He takes it anyway, just in case the princess actually transports herself to the Hebra Mountains this time.

He ducks into Rito Stable and gets the same medicine he got last time — he knows which horse to expect and he would very much like to sleep in an actual bed after defeating Ganon. After that, he has a choice to make. He peers at the map on the Sheikah Slate. The previous two times he defeated the Calamity, he always chose the shrine underneath the castle as his starting point. Perhaps he should try something different now.

The shrine at Crenel Hills is probably the safest one. He remembers very few Guardians there. But Purah needed Giant Ancient Cores to upgrade the Sheikah Slate. Perhaps defeating a few more Guardians isn’t such a bad idea. He checks his stash of Ancient Arrows. He got Robbie to make plenty of them and they have been very useful for getting to Ganon the last two times. He can spare a couple more for the Guardians around the castle.

Decision made, he selects the shrine near the Quarry Ruins. The place is crawling with Guardians. He uses his Ancient Bow to pick them off one by one, but the results are disappointing. When he crosses the castle moat, he only has one Ancient Giant Core and just a handful of regular cores. 

He immediately remembers why he prefers the shrine underneath the castle. Fighting his way into the castle from the main gate is daunting and he only barely takes out some of the more persistent Guardians with some help from Urbosa’s Fury. He’s deeply relieved that Purah didn’t demand any Lynel parts, so he at least doesn’t have to face the Lynel in the Gatehouse. 

By the time he’s stood back in front of the Castle Sanctum, he’s only gained one more Giant Ancient Core. It’s not enough. Purah needed at least four or five. He’ll have to find them after he defeats Calamity Ganon. 

By now, he’s already familiar with the scenario that plays out when he enters the Sanctum. It took him quite a bit longer than last time to get here, and he is relieved to find that the princess’ strength managed to hold out that long. He has all but depleted his Ancient Arrow stock, but between the champions’ attacks and his own knowledge of the Calamity’s attack patterns, he manages to fight his way through Ganon’s first forms with very little significant damage.

(He still loses Daybreaker and the Great Eagle Bow. The only way not to lose them is not to use them.)

This time, he is able to manoeuvre his horse around Ganon’s Beast form a lot more effectively and when he lands that final arrow in the Beast’s head and the princess has taken out the Calamity once more, his horse is only a little scuffed up instead of seriously hurt. It probably won’t need the medicine at all.

When the princess descends, he doesn’t meet her eyes. He can’t stand her anger if she does remember and he cannot bear the guilt if she doesn’t. He turns away and gives his horse the medicine anyway, just to buy himself another minute without facing her. 

“Is everything all right?” the princess asks, her footsteps coming to a stop a few meters away from him. Link nods. He doesn’t elaborate and the princess doesn’t ask.

It was early afternoon the last two times he defeated the Calamity. Now, with his excursion to gather Guardian parts, the sun is already setting, coloring the castle in shades of russet that conceal the damage done to it. Above it, he catches a glimpse of green-blue that stands out starkly against the sunset sky. Not the champions, whose gifts he can still feel — for now, at least. The king? As he watches, the shape fades from view. Perhaps he only wished to confirm that the princess was safe before moving on.

“We should find shelter for the night,” the princess says. “Is there a place we can stay? A stable, perhaps?”

“Wetlands stable,” Link says, tearing his eyes away from the castle. He finally turns around. The princess’ face is carefully neutral, not a trace of anger in sight. Perhaps she really doesn’t know. Or perhaps she is very good at hiding what she feels, the way Link used to be. He takes a gamble. “It is near Kakariko Village.”

Surprise flickers across the princess’ face. “Do they expect us there?”

“The Lady Impa will be happy to see you, Your Highness.”

The princess grimaces. Belatedly, Link remembers how she asked him to call her by name the last two times he lived through these days. Has she wanted that from the start? He still cannot bring himself to do so, now that the guilt weighs on him more heavily than ever before. 

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask again. She merely agrees that Wetlands Stable is their best option. 

“How shall we go there?” she asks, gesturing at Link’s lone horse, which is munching happily on the Endura Carrot Link gave it. Link wordlessly unhooks the Sheikah Slate and summons the Master Cycle Zero. The princess makes a faint noise of admiration.

“May I?” she asks. Link gestures for her to go ahead. Once more, she circles the Master Cycle and makes contemplative noises. However, when she tries to start it, it doesn’t react.

“Ah, Link, could you show me how to?”

Link starts the engine for her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong; the Master Cycle just isn’t attuned to her.

“It is like the Divine Beasts, then,” the princess mutters. Link makes a questioning sound. 

“Oh!” says the princess, straightening up. “Yes, I imagine you don’t remember… When we first found the Divine Beasts, they would not react to anyone assigned to them. We only managed to activate some basic functions after recovering the Sheikah Slate. Father wished to assign some of the Hylian commanders to them, but the Divine Beasts refused to work. Not until the Champions entered them.”

Link tries to imagine anyone but the champions piloting the Divine Beasts and finds that the idea makes him faintly queasy. 

“The monk at the shrine. He said it was a Divine Beast,” he says. The Master Cycle is so small compared to the others, but he sees no reason why the monk would have lied about that.

“Is it really?” the princess breathes, eyes alight in fascination. She runs a hand over the saddle and the intricate structure of its neck. “And you found it at…?”

“The Shrine of Resurrection. There’s a chamber underneath.”

The princess nods, already back to studying the Master Cycle. It takes her several minutes, during which Link watches the sun set further, before she remembers their plan to head to Wetlands Stable.

This late, there’s no point in stopping for food. He and the princess eat on the road. The sun sets quickly and it is fully dark by the time they cross the river Hylia and the stable comes in view. When the burn in his chest comes, he almost expects it. It comes later than it did last time, but it also took him longer to defeat the Calamity. 

He hasn’t truly seen any of the champions since he went to say goodbye to them, the day before he defeated the Calamity for the first time. The brief glimpses he gets from them when using their gifts don’t allow for extended conversation, and all of them were too focused on defeating the Calamity with him to talk. 

It still hurts. He keeps his eyes fixed on the dashboard, the four lights above the fuel gauge blurring. He doesn’t think it will ever stop hurting, but perhaps this too will fade into background noise with enough repetitions. Can he truly say they’re gone when he’ll be able to use their gifts again in just a few days?

“Link?” the princess asks. He’s slowed down; the princess steers the horse back to him. “Did something happen?”

“They’re gone,” he mutters. “The champions.” 

“May Hylia embrace their souls,” the princess whispers. She gives him a long look. “Would you like to stop for a moment?”

The stable is already in sight and it is getting close to midnight. Even though Link hasn’t seen a single Stal monster since the first time he defeated Ganon, night still evokes a sense of wariness in him. He shakes his head and starts the Master Cycle again.

They arrive at the stable, where the stable owner comes out to take Link’s horse. He eyes the princess with concern. 

“You okay?” he asks. The princess may be wearing Link’s borrowed Hylian tunic, but her dress is still in tatters and will be until they reach Kakariko and she gets the chance to find proper clothes. 

The princess laughs lightly. “Yes, thank you for your concern. I had an unfortunate encounter with a monster.”

“You didn’t run into the castle, did you?”

“I didn’t run into it, no,” the princess says with a small smile at Link. Link quirks the corner of his mouth. 

“Mind, might be safe to do that now!” a Hylian woman pipes up. She’s only just arrived and steers her own horse into the stable next to Link’s. “I just came here from Riverside and not a monster in sight! The castle looks pretty safe now, don’t you think? After that light show earlier, I’ve half a mind to check it out myself, see if there’s any of those royal weapons left there.”

Link recognizes her from the first time they stayed at the Wetlands stable. The princess shakes her head. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” she says. The stable owner backs her up.

“Yeah, unless you wanna get slaughtered. I heard there’s Lynels in there, they’ll murder you.”

Without the constant malice swirling around it and the beams of the Divine Beasts targeting it, the castle is little more than a dark shape in the distance. Link is surprised it’s still standing. He’s been expecting it to collapse after the fight.

“Laugh it up,” the woman says. Link and the princess leave her to it and head inside. Neither of them are all that hungry; they just snack on some honeyed apples Link had saved in the Sheikah Slate before turning in.

Link wakes up disoriented, with the princess nowhere in sight. For a moment, he thinks he is back in Rito Village, but everything smells overwhelmingly like horse and the bed beneath him is nowhere near as soft as the ones in the village. He sits up and swings his feet out of the bed. The princess’ bed is neatly made. He thinks he knows where she went.

Sure enough, when he steps outside, he spots the princess’ form at the shrine. She’s sat on the dais and waves when he approaches. 

“Would you like the Sheikah Slate?” Link asks. 

“Ah yes, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Link wordlessly hands over the slate. The princess opens it and navigates to the map unerringly. Her hand hovers over the icons and for a split-second Link thinks she’s going to pick one of the Hebra shrines again , but instead she moves the map to the east and pauses near Zora’s Domain.

“This is Vah Ruta, isn’t it?” she asks, pointing at the icon that denotes it. Link nods. The princess scrolls quickly through the map until she finds all the other Divine Beasts, spread out as they are.

“I never knew there were so many shrines,” the princess says. She pauses over Mt. Lanayru. “Even here, huh?”

Link winces. Compared to the agony the princess put herself through, revealing the shrine at the Spring of Wisdom had been almost easy. Back then, he had been terrified at the sight of the Malice-infected Naydra. Now he knows that the dragons bear him no ill will. They barely even notice him. 

“There were hidden shrines,” he tells the princess. “Quests, songs, stories.” 

“Then perhaps the springs weren’t meant for me at all,” the princess muses. She doesn’t sound upset about it, but Link has seen the princess go from excited to utterly bland-faced in the presence of her father and he holds no illusions. He wishes he knew how to comfort her, but the myths and legends surrounding the springs were never of interest to him. 

“I wonder if the true stories were warped before they got to us.” The princess shakes her head and moves down from the mountain to Hateno Village. She points to the icon indicating Purah’s research lab. “What’s this then?”

“Lady Purah lives there,” Link explains. “If you tap it, you go there,” he adds before the princess can ask. 

“Is that so?” The princess gives him a complicated look. She closes out of the map and hands the Slate back to Link. “If only all of us could have used this. It truly could have saved us a lot of pain.” 

This is the third time the princess has come to this realization. It still hurts. He imagines she will want to ask Purah to upgrade the slate. And while he agrees, while it would make the princess’ life so much easier and allow him to still use the slate himself, he still thinks any real use that such an upgrade might have had is already long past.

“I think I would like to ride to Hateno today. Do you imagine that is possible?” the princess asks later, predictably. She gestures at the overgrown road of Sahasra Hill and Link understands her question: Can the horses handle the ruin that Hyrule’s roads have become?

“It is,” he confirms. He’s had longer trips across far less hospitable terrain, although he has admittedly become unused to spending entire days on horseback in the last few weeks. Not when there was always a convenient shrine near where he had to go. 

Even though he had expected the princess to go to Hateno, he is still surprised by the speed of her request. They have always spent at least one night in Kakariko Village. He never got the impression that the princess particularly enjoyed being there, but she still considered it important. 

“I would like to see as much of Hyrule as I can,” the princess answers his unspoken question. She steers her horse back on track. It is a good, strong horse, but it is still used to Link and had balked at having to carry the princess. “Perhaps, if Purah can truly upgrade the slate, that will make it possible.”

They arrive in Kakariko Village and are greeted by the now-expected cheers of the villagers. The princess straightens her back and Link waits anxiously for Paya to come free them from the din of celebration. Fortunately, she does so in short order. 

“You really did it!” she shouts at them. “I knew you would!”

“Ah, thank you,” the princess says when Paya leads them through the crowd. Then, falling back into the manners of royalty, she tacks on: “You would be…?”

“I’m— I’m Paya, Your Highness,” Paya says, flustered once more at the princess’ attention. “We are so grateful for everything you have done for us! Grandmother is eager to see you, will you join us?”

“You are… Lady Impa’s granddaughter?” the princess asks. Paya nods and the princess smiles. It is a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I am sure you have been told before, but you truly resemble her a great deal.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Paya says, face still suspiciously red. She leads them through the crowd and to Lady Impa’s abode, where Dorian greets them as stoically as ever.

When they enter, Impa is sat on the dais. The princess rushes over to greet her. “Impa,” she says, voice small. “I am so glad to see that you are doing well.”

“Princess, it is such a great pleasure to finally meet face-to-face again,” Lady Impa says, voice choked up. The princess goes to help her stand up, but Lady Impa waves her away. She moves to the low table and takes a moment to compose herself before smiling at the princess. “I imagine you are surprised to see me this way. That one —“ she gestures at Link, “— didn’t even remember anything. Good thing we Sheikah can hang around so long, isn’t it?”

“It is a blessing,” says the princess. “Impa, I apologize, I cannot stay long. I wish to see the state of Hyrule for myself. But if you have any information you can give me, it would be highly appreciated.“

Lady Impa’s confusion is plain to see. Link too isn’t quite sure why the princess is so insistent on reaching Hateno, but he is not sad for it. Kakariko is overwhelming in a way that Hateno isn’t. 

“Yes, of course. But Princess, you must spend the night at least and rest up.”

The princess shakes her head. “I am quite well-rested, you should not worry. But I would appreciate a meal, if you could provide us one.”

“Of course, yes.” Lady Impa still looks thrown. “Paya, could you—?”

Paya nods and disappears, reappearing half an hour later with food and new clothes for the princess. In that time, Lady Impa has explained to the princess what Link already knows. They eat quickly, and despite Lady Impa’s insistence that they are more than welcome to stay as long as they want, they are back on the road by the time the sun is nearing its highest point. 

Yet the horses aren’t exactly fresh anymore, so by the time they cross Kakariko Bridge, even the princess is forced to admit that the horses need rest and Link steers them towards Dueling Peaks stable. The princess is restless and clearly annoyed by the forced break. Link is less worried. The roads are safe and even with this delay they will reach Hateno Village before the hour becomes too late. 

“I had wished to speak to Purah today,” the princess confesses. They are sat on the bank of the small pond that contains the Ha Dahamar shrine. Looking at the shrine gives Link an idea. He takes out the Sheikah Slate and hands it to the princess.

“The shrine. You could enter it, if—“

“Oh!” The princess accepts the slate, her earlier annoyance immediately forgotten. “Is it safe to enter?”

Link nods. “It uses—“ he leans over and taps the Cryonis rune, then helps the princess aim it at the water so she can try for herself. The princess gets it right on her first try and looks elated. 

“It will not delay our journey for too long?”

Link shakes his head. Gaining access to the shrine had been far harder than actually defeating its challenges, back when he wasn’t yet used to straying too far from the beaten path. It should be easy enough for the princess.

“Then I shall attempt it.” Determined, the princess goes to step into the water. Link stops her again and opens the map.

“You could—“

“Oh! Yes, of course. So I just tap—“ She taps the icon of the Ha Dahamar shrine and disappears right away, only to reappear seconds later on the other side of the water. It is admittedly quite strange to see someone else disappearing like that. He wonders how many people he scared by using the Sheikah Slate in front of them.

“I’m going in!” the princess shouts, waving at him. Link waves back in acknowledgment and watches her disappear into the shrine. She should be down there for an hour at least, so Link leans back and watches the sky. He is less worried than he was the first time the princess entered a shrine, and so he can take the time to enjoy being alone again. He wonders where the princess will want to go once the slate can take them both. Last time she mentioned Zora’s Domain. Perhaps Gerudo Town after that? The princess was always quite close to the Lady Urbosa and enjoyed staying with her. Link respected her and had been grateful for her help, but he is not quite as comfortable in her presence as he is in that of the other champions. He does not think he imagined her ill-concealed impatience when he traveled Hyrule long past freeing all the Divine Beasts. 

Maybe he can convince the princess to go to Lurelin Village. He does not think she has ever been there. It is far on the outskirts of Hyrule and holds no strategic value. That is also what saved it during the Calamity. No Guardians ever made it out there. 

The princess reemerges while Link is still contemplating the places he’d like to visit. Her excitement is visible even from across the water. She waves enthusiastically at Link.

“I did it!” she shouts. Link smiles and nods. The princess steps to the edge of the shrine island, where she’s faced with another problem. 

“Ah, Link?” she shouts. “How do I—?” She waves the Sheikah Slate at the water. Link cannot quite hide a snort. The water is shallow enough to wade through, but he imagines she will not want to get her feet wet and using the map now will only get her to a far more distant shrine.

“The rune!” he shouts back. From here, he cannot see the princess’ face, but he can vividly picture her embarrassed smile.

Once she has remembered the rune she just spent an hour using and made it back to dry land, she falls down next to him, grinning. The tension that had made her move on from Kakariko so quickly has faded. 

“Thank you, Link,” she says earnestly. “I am glad to learn how the slate functions. I hope to learn more of it in the future.”

After that, the journey to Hateno is more relaxed, even though they still push the horses quite hard. They pause once more to eat at Fort Hateno. Link has long been immured to the sight of the Guardians at Blatchery Plain and the princess’ earlier relaxation sees her through the worst of it now. Still, it is a place that asks for contemplation and so they eat in silence.

“The champions,” the princess says when Link is throwing away their leftovers. Link clenches his teeth together. So far, the princess has mostly avoided the topic. “I— Did you talk to them?”

Link nods.

“How were they? Were they okay?”

They were dead, Link thinks uncharitably. But the princess deserves more credit than that. “They were happy to be freed from the Blights. Eager to defeat the Calamity.” 

The princess nods, looking down. She has her hands clenched in the hem of her tunic. “Were they— Were they angry?”

Link shakes his head. No, the champions had been dismayed about the state of Hyrule and their people and sad to be cut off from the world, but not one of them had ever expressed anger at the princess. “They worried for your well-being. They were all eager for you to be freed.” He so vehemently wishes he could speak to them again. “It is a wish we shared.”

The princess dabs at her eyes and stares up at the sky, blinking furiously. “Thank you, Link. I do wish there had been time to meet them. I miss them.” 

Link nods. He does too, probably a lot more than the princess. He misses going over to the Divine Beasts and listening to their stories of the past. There is still a lot he doesn’t remember, and the champions, all in their own way, had tried to make up for the lack. 

“I truly do wish we’d had the chance to all be together once more,” the princess says. “That is why I have to endeavor that the Calamity can never return. I do not want future generations to suffer as we did, merely for lack of knowledge.”

Her haste to reach Hateno Village makes a lot more sense now. Link nods again and gets up in the same movement. The Princess Zelda he remembers was always eager to figure out the workings of the ancient mechanisms, but never quite as determined as now. In the past, they all believed that the princess’ power would be sufficient in defeating the Calamity and the Divine Beasts and all the Guardians were mere ancillary tools. With that disproven, it is more important than ever to preserve all the knowledge they themselves were not privy to.

Perhaps this is the solution to breaking this loop? Once all their knowledge has been sufficiently preserved, perhaps they can finally move forward.

And yet, if that were the case, there would be no reason for Link to fight the Calamity over and over again. Unless there is something to be done differently to hasten its defeat.

No matter the princess’ insistence, the hour is still far too late to talk to the Lady Purah when they arrive in Hateno Village, so they spend the night in Link’s house. The following morning, they head up the hill and are let in by Symin.

“Link,” he greets. “Your Highness. Please join us inside.”

No glasswork has perished today, so it is safe to approach Purah’s table. She jumps up when they approach, balancing precariously on top of her chair. Link and the princess both reach out to prevent her inevitable fall.

“Linky!” she shouts. “Princess! Oh, don’t mind how I look! Got myself into a bit of a pinch with some rune experiments, it’ll wear off eventually and then I’ll look just like my little sis!”

The princess presses a hand on her shoulder to make her sit down again. “Purah, it truly is lovely to see you again. I am glad to hear that you are still experimenting with the runes. I come with a question.”

“Oh sure, I’ve been doing some upgrades for Linky here!” Unlike the Lady Impa, Purah has no time to waste on formalities. “What do you need?”

The princess outlines the upgrades the slate needs, while Purah nods along, throws out ideas and takes copious notes. They ask Link several questions — When Link mentions how the slate connected to the Guidance Stone at the Great Plateau Tower, it is the princess who suggests finding another Guidance Stone. Predictably, Purah suggests going to Hateno Tower again. Link can already feel his headache growing, but he has to go through the motions. He still remembers most of the list Purah drew up last time, but he doesn’t bring it up. He’s never been good with the ancient technology. It wouldn’t make sense for him to know about it.

“I’m sending a message to Robbie first!” Purah hops off her chair and searches the room for Symin. He stepped out a few minutes ago and even told Purah as much, but she and the princess were too engrossed in their discussion to notice.

“Why do I even have an assistant,” she mutters and then sends Link up to her room with a cheery, “Just get me some paper, anything’s fine as long as there’s nothing written on it!”

That’s easier said than done. Purah’s room is stuffed to the gills with books and notes. He finally finds some paper tucked away in a basket on one of the many shelves. His eyes linger on the depictions of Medoh and Rudania hanging on her wall. Below Medoh’s drawing is one that Link recognizes as the main terminal of the Divine Beasts, back when they were still corrupted. The flower bulb shape looks like it could open any minute. He wonders which of the Divine Beasts Purah entered to get this picture.

He returns, paper in hand, to find Purah packing her stuff. She huffs at Link’s delay, scribbles down a message to Robbie that she will send off in the village, and once more claims a spot in front of Link. Link clenches his jaw. The princess gives him a worried look once they set off and Link drives the horse harder than strictly necessary, but follows suit. Purah does not enjoy the hard ride, and after some initial complaints she is blessedly silent for most of it. She is quite huffy with Link by the time they reach the tower, but since that means she still isn’t talking to him, Link is far from complaining.

Once again, the princess and Purah spend several hours on top of the tower while Link sits and watches Hyrule around him. It’s a clear day — all the days so far have been clear. He basks in the sun and lets the conversation wash over him. 

Despite their hurry to get to the Tower, it is well past noon by the time Purah declares her investigation over and already nearing evening when they make it back to Hateno Village. That doesn’t deter Purah — she and the princess still come up with the list they need to upgrade the slate.

“You’ve already got a bunch of it, Linky!” Purah declares, shamelessly scrolling through his inventory on the Sheikah Slate. “Just a few more of those Giant Cores! Oh, and some regular ones too, and I’m gonna need Cherry to figure out some stuff. Sure wish the mail would work faster!”

Yeah, Purah’s message might not even be in Akkala yet. “Tomorrow,” Link suggests, “I could go. Use the slate.”

“Oh, excellent idea!” The princess claps her hands. “Yes, if you could.” 

She and Purah look ready to work through the night, but he manages to dissuade them with Symin’s help. So he and the princess walk back to Hateno Village, Link once more in possession of the Sheikah Slate. 

He stands back as the princess tries her hand at getting supplies for the horses. She is clearly unused to haggling and Link has to step in when she is ready to pay the ridiculous rate the merchant is asking, but they come away with everything they need and only a small measure of embarrassment on the princess’ part.

“I like your house,” she says when they rub down the horses and water them. “It’s cozy. Reminds me of before.” She casts a look at the blocky houses Bolton built just across the bridge, a frown creasing her eyebrows. Link privately agrees. He likes the people in Tarrey Town well enough, but their style of living is something he’s never quite gotten used to.

“You are always welcome here,” he says by rote. It is the expected thing to say — she is the princess, after all — but he still finds some truth in it. The princess has been trying very hard to reach out to him; it’s not her fault that his own guilt is stifling him. So far, she does not appear to remember anything of the past repeats. If she did, he cannot imagine that she would be so kind to him.

The princess gives him a sideways glance, something shy and sad. “Thank you, Link,” she says. She gives the white horse she’s been riding a final pat and grabs the bucket of water. “I will take this back to the shed,” she announces. Link watches her go. The princess Zelda he remembers would never take care of her own horse, but he thinks that wasn’t because of any reluctance on her part. He thinks she would not have minded, if given the chance. 

She seems to enjoy this life where no one recognizes her. Just like Link roamed Hyrule to put off the fight against the Calamity, the princess has also been putting off taking her place as rightful ruler of Hyrule after spending so long locked up in the castle. 

That makes it all the worse that unless he finds a way out of this, she will never truly be free of the Calamity.

Link reaches the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab mere moments after the courier carrying Purah’s message does and resolves to deliver the message himself next time. He would have done it if Purah hadn’t claimed the Sheikah Slate and refused to give it back until the previous evening. Now he has to wait for Robbie to read through the full message and give his thoughts.

“Well, this certainly is new!” he says. “Think of the possibilities, though! You could transport entire armies with this.”

Or evacuate the inhabitants of Central Hyrule, back when the Calamity emerged. Link thinks of the ancient king who distrusted the Sheikah so much he drove them out of the kingdom and wonders if this was part of the reason. If the man was so terrified of a coup that he jeopardized the future of his kingdom.

“I do think it’s possible,” Robbie continues, very used to Link’s silence. “I’m just gonna need some parts from you.”

Robbie fiddles with Cherry, creates a prototype of something Link can’t begin to guess the function of, then sends Link back to Purah. Purah and the princess pour over it, take it apart and then send Link back with the pieces and copious notes on how to fix it. That’s how Link spends the rest of his day, moving back and forth between Hateno and Akkala. By the end of the day, he is running low on parts and he has given up on understanding any of the things Purah, Robbie and the princess have been passing along. He still needs to find more cores, but a trip to Lomei Labyrinth only gets him severely lost with just a few screws and gears to show for it.

Still, the princess is in a good mood when they return to Link’s house for the night. 

“We’re nearly done,” she tells Link. “If we can just get those cores and use the Guidance Stone, we can get it to work.”

“I shall head to the castle tomorrow,” Link says. The princess’ face falls a little, but she nods. It is the best place to find any remaining Guardians. 

He does not manage to set out for the castle until late morning the next day, because Purah and the princess are reluctant to give up the Sheikah Slate and continue tinkering with it for quite a while longer. He only gets his hands on it again when they finally admit that they do need those extra parts. When he opens the map, the icons that represent the Divine Beasts are already gone. He does not want to ask the princess if she knows when they disappeared. 

He appears in utter darkness, with only the glow of the shrine to illuminate the passageway. The castle has always been eerie, but now, with the Calamity defeated, it is completely silent and all the more chilling for it. He lights a torch and makes his way over to the secret entrance that leads to the library. The monsters that used to be at the docks are gone, but he is still on guard. He cannot imagine that the Lynel in the basement would have an easy time escaping. 

That turns out to be a moot point when, with remarkable effort, he makes it to the library at last. The entire place has collapsed, and what few books that had still survived the century of Ganon’s residence are now completely destroyed. He navigates his way across the rubble, but even the staircase has crumbled. He crouches down automatically — a habit borne from months of traveling — but Revali’s Gale doesn’t answer his call. Right.

Right.

He tries climbing, but the rubble falls away underneath his hands. With no way around, he backtracks and tries another route, only to find it equally inaccessible. He cannot explore the castle this way.

Instead, he warps to the shrine near the quarry, where he appeared on his most recent attempt at defeating Ganon. Castle Town has remained mostly spared of additional destruction, but he can now see just how damaged the castle is. Nothing remains of the Castle Sanctum and many of the towers are completely destroyed, including the one that used to house the princess’ study.

The Guardians that still remain in Castle Town are just as inactive as those at Fort Hateno and Lomei Labyrinth. The Master Sword doesn’t even glow in their presence anymore. He hacks apart the nearest Guardian Stalker but only manages to salvage some gears and screws.

The rest of the day is a similar exercise in frustration. He has plenty of gears now, and enough shafts to resupply all the Ancient Arrows he used during his fight with the Calamity twice over, but not a single one of the Guardians still contains a core, let alone a giant one. Not the Stalkers, not the Skywatchers and definitely not the Decayed Guardians that will only become more decayed as time goes on. 

He goes back to Hateno to face the princess’ disappointment head-on.

“It certainly would make sense that they’re all inactive now,” Purah says, heedless of the way the princess flinches. “Nothing to defend from anymore, is there? Or attack, for that matter.” She fondly pats the head of the Guardian Scout she’s affixed to the front of the lab. 

“But is there no other place?” the princess says. Her good mood has disappeared in the wake of Link’s report. Now she looks frantic. “You’ve found cores before, right? In the shrines?”

He could try, but the treasure chests in the shrines never refilled themselves. The rest of the day, he methodically goes through all the shrines that he remembers having cores. He unearths one in a treasure chest he missed the first time around, but that’s the most he gets. 

Is this why he keeps repeating the fight against Ganon? Is upgrading the slate so instrumental that he keeps being sent back to when the Guardians were still active just so he can gain the necessary parts? Next time, if he finds everything he needs to fix the slate, will this loop finally be broken? 

He prays it will be. Because if fixing the slate isn’t enough, then he doesn’t know what is. Then something about Ganon’s defeat must be wrong and he has no idea what that could be. It is already close to midnight when he returns to Hateno Village and watches the princess’ expression devolve into quiet despair. When he gets into bed, the taste of defeat heavy on his tongue, he listens to the princess tossing and turning and already knows perfectly well where he’ll wake up the next day.

Chapter Text

Link has never really thought of Rito Village as cold before. Yes, the temperatures constantly flirt with freezing at night, and the icy wind from the Hebra mountains frequently cuts through the village, but the Rito have always greeted him warmly and welcomed him into their homes. 

So it is a new experience to lie under the heavy covers of the soft Rito-down bed and feel chilled to the bone. Link stares at the ceiling and listens to Cecili puttering around in the inn. The sun, as always, has only just risen. He can feel the champions’ gifts settled underneath his breastbone, but even that isn’t enough to warm him up. So he’s back here. In a few minutes, he will get up, go out to the castle and defeat Ganon all over again. 

They were so close to upgrading the Sheikah Slate. If only he’d spent more time looking for cores last time, they could have already resolved this. He hopes and prays that the Sheikah Slate is the answer to breaking these endless repeats, because if it isn’t…

Nothing is known about the hero of legend and the princess who defeated Ganon ten thousand years ago. Is that what he’s doing wrong? The princess should be the one to defeat the Calamity, of that he is sure. Is he only there to give her that opportunity? Should he never have survived the fight with the Calamity at all?

There’s no point in debating it now. The princess will need the cores to upgrade the Sheikah Slate and after he defeats the Calamity, he won’t be able to get them anymore. He gets dressed quietly, nods his thanks to Cecili and hopes it will be a long time before he wakes up here again. 

He takes off via the Landing because if he has to face Ganon again, at least he’s going to enjoy the time he has left to fly. He spots the Hylian traveler while he’s still in the air. The Moblins attacking him are red this time, and Link takes them out before he even touches down on the other side of Lake Totori.

“I just left the stable!” the man tells Link when he lands. “They swore up and down that there wouldn’t be any monsters on this road, can you believe it?” 

Link tunes him out and makes vague noises until the man is satisfied enough to leave him with the spicy elixir. He passes by Rito Stable, stocks up on the medicine for his horse, and then sits down with the Sheikah Slate on his lap. 

Purah asked for five Giant Ancient Cores and at least twice that number of regular cores. But he’s seen Purah and Robbie go through half of his stash of Guardian materials in one day. He’ll need as many of them as he can get before he goes to fight the Calamity.

With that in mind, he doesn’t aim for the castle but for Akkala Citadel. The Skywatchers there are still a threat and very few people risk using the road below the citadel. But Link can warp directly to Akkala Tower and retreat there if any of the Guardians get too close for comfort, so he takes them all out in short notice. 

The spoils are… disappointing. He had hoped that targeting the Skywatchers would get him better results than just the Stalkers, but he leaves the citadel with only one Giant Core and a handful of smaller ones. 

He makes his next stop at Lomei Labyrinth and gets spectacularly lost once more. He doesn’t like Lomei Labyrinth. The walls are straight and the passageways narrow, giving him very little cover from the Guardians overhead. At least he comes out with two more Giant Cores and enough regular cores to cover whatever Purah needs. 

He stops by Robbie, who welcomes him a little incredulously upon realizing that he’s already depleted most of his Ancient Arrow stock, but is happy to make him more. By now, it’s already noon and he still doesn’t have everything he needs. There are plenty of Guardians scattered throughout Hyrule, but nowhere as many as near the castle. So it is with an air of resignation that he once again sets out to the Quarry Ruins shrine and begins taking out the Guardians in Castle Town. 

Two hours later, he’s got his two missing Giant Cores and both Daruk and Revali have commented on his sudden obsession with defeating Guardians instead of fighting the Calamity. He shoots back a quick ‘ You keeping count?’ at Revali when he Gales into the castle proper and is met with ‘Nowhere near my record,’ the time after that. He doesn’t know what Revali’s record is, nor does Revali know just how many Guardians he’s shot today, so he’s taking that with a grain of salt. 

The castle nets him one final Giant Core. It is much later than he’s ever faced the Calamity, and he quietly worries that he won’t be able to defeat it before the Stal monsters appear. He absolutely cannot afford any distractions while fighting the Beast. He debates waiting until the next day, but he has no idea how much longer the princess will hold out. He’s quietly amazed she’s managed this long.

So when he finally enters the Castle Sanctum, he is more tired than he’s ever been and even his new stock of Ancient Arrows is running dangerously low. He’s taking hits he could have dodged, relying on Daruk’s Protection more than he usually has to. Daruk has been shooting him worried looks, but the fight doesn’t leave them time to talk. 

By the time he defeats Ganon’s first form and reemerges on Hyrule Field, he is dead on his feet and grateful to get onto his horse. It doesn’t last long; his reflexes aren’t what they should be and he is forced to send the horse away when it takes too much damage for his liking. He’s never once lost his horse to Ganon and he does not intend to start now. 

But finally, after Mipha’s had to perform her Grace on him and he’s had to furiously dodge the Beast while waiting for Daruk’s Protection to recharge, he manages to land that final arrow into Ganon’s head. He falls back onto the grass of Windvane Meadow and watches the princess descend. She rushes over to him as soon as her feet touch the ground.

“Link, are you all right?”

He nods and closes his eyes, unable to face her when they’re here once more and she doesn’t even know. 

“Can you sit up? Do you need anything?” the princess continues, her voice rising in pitch. Link hears her sitting down next to him and cracks open an eye, shaking his head. 

“Horse,” he says. He doesn’t know where his horse went off to, but he didn’t like the state of it. It’s his own fault. He already knows exactly how the Beast moves. There was absolutely no reason for the horse to get hurt as badly as it did. 

He unhooks the Sheikah Slate from his belt and tries to find where he stored the medicine.

“Here, let me.” The princess takes the slate from him. “Where is— Ah! I’ll be right back!”

She runs off, presumably to where his horse is standing. Link groans and drags himself into a sitting position. Night has long since fallen — it is probably closer to midnight than sunset. At least he survived. At least he has everything he needs to get the slate upgraded.

The princess returns, guiding his horse by the reins. It looks better already and for that Link is grateful. This horse is good-natured enough that it will never blame Link for the pain it’s suffered, which makes him feel all the more guilty.

“It is late,” the princess says. “You should rest.”

“There are stables.” Link stands up and sways. The princess rushes to support him. 

“Link, you’re in no state to travel!” 

Link shakes his head. It’s fine. He’s sure he’s still got some stamina-boosting items tucked away in the Sheikah Slate. They can make it to Wetlands Stable by morning. 

“No, I won’t hear it,” the princess insists. “You should rest. We can set up camp here, right?” She says it like she’s once heard of the concept of setting up camp, but is unfamiliar with what it entails. They have only spent the night outside once, the first time he defeated the Calamity, and the princess won’t have any memory of that.

Still, the prospect of riding five hours to Wetlands Stable sounds extremely exhausting right now, and if the princess is determined to spend the night in Hyrule Field, Link won’t be the one to dissuade her.

He makes a fire right there, just meters away from where they defeated the Calamity. Any monsters in the vicinity will immediately know their location, but he is too tired to care and counting on the monsters being just as confused by the sudden lack of Malice as the rest of Hyrule is.

“Link?” the princess asks while Link is roasting some fish and mushrooms over the fire. He nods and waits for her to continue. It takes her long enough that Link looks up from the fire and spots the princess looking into the distance, in the direction of Dueling Peaks.

“Where do you think we should go?” she asks. 

Link tries to not show his surprise. She’s never really asked him. Lurelin Village sounds excellent to him, and a few weeks ago, he would have said Rito Village. But he didn’t spend a full day chasing guardians just to deviate from their set course like that.

“Kakariko Village is still there,” he says. The princess flinches and he remembers how uncomfortable she is with being recognized. 

“I imagine they will be expecting me,” she says quietly. Link nods.

“The Lady Impa will be happy to see you. She has records of Hyrule.”

“And she’ll want to share them.” The princess looks out at Dueling Peaks again, despondent. “I wish I could just see all of Hyrule quickly instead of learning about it second-hand.” 

It is as perfect an opening as he’s ever going to get. Link takes out the Sheikah Slate and brings up the map. “The slate. It will take you wherever you want to go.”

The princess doesn’t look at the slate. Instead she looks at Link, searching for something she doesn’t seem to find. “I see,” she says, quite reluctantly. “Will it take us both?”

Her tone of voice is flat, almost lifeless. Like him, she must be tired from the long fight. She has been fighting the Calamity for a century with no respite. 

“One person,” he replies. “But, Purah—”

“You think she can fix it?” 

Link nods. The princess nods as well, the set of her jaw determined. “Then I would like to visit Purah first. Is she still— Where is she now?”

“Hateno Village.”

“Then, can we go there? If the Sheikah Slate can take us both, it will be easier to visit Impa afterwards.”

Link nods. If they make it to Hateno tomorrow, they stand a good chance of finally getting the slate upgraded. Then these repeats should finally end — he’s gathered the materials he could only find before Ganon’s defeat. He can only pray that Purah won’t mess it up and he won’t be forced to do this all over again.

He carefully doesn’t think about how he feels better when the champions are still around. He doesn’t think about what he should do if even this isn’t enough. If the problem was never the Sheikah Slate, but Link himself.

He dozes lightly, dead on his feet but unable to let down his guard. The princess is utterly silent next to him, but her breathing is shallow. He hopes she will be able to make the long ride to Hateno tomorrow. Link himself has gone without sleep for longer than this, although admittedly never after fighting the Calamity. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep. He’s still waiting for one more thing.

At first, he doesn’t recognize the feeling over the anxiety that’s settled in his gut, but when the sun starts rising over Dueling Peaks, he feels his chest hollow out. Gone again. He turns onto his side and curls up, hoping the princess isn’t awake to notice. This might be the last time. The champions might be gone for good.

He regrets not visiting them again. Oh, they’d have been surprised. To them, he only visited yesterday. But it has been weeks since he last spoke to any of them beyond quick words exchanged when he used their gifts. 

Now all he has left of them are their weapons, half of them broken. Mipha’s armor, Revali’s paraglider, the unfulfilled hopes that died with them. And one picture taken a century ago.

He abandons the pretense of sleep when the sun is well above the horizon and the princess starts to stir. Over breakfast, she keeps throwing him sad looks, but he has no idea what she wants from him and so he busies himself with throwing together some vegetables that don’t need roasting to taste good. 

“Did you sleep well?” the princess asks after a silent meal. Link nods and turns the question back to her.

“It was fine,” she says quietly. “Ah, nothing happened during the night?”

Link shakes his head. No monsters showed up. The princess gives him another one of those unsettling looks, but she doesn’t press any further. She must really be out of it, because even the sight of the Master Cycle Zero doesn’t do much to perk her up.

“You’ll tell me if anything’s wrong, right?” she says when she mounts the horse. Link nods and starts the engine on the Master Cycle, keeping his eyes fixed on the four lights on the dashboard. Thankfully, the roar of the engine drowns out any chance at meaningful conversation. 

They stop at Riverside Stable to take out Link’s faster horses and give his poor battered horse a chance to rest in a proper stable, then go through Dueling Peaks at a canter. The Lizalfos dive under the water when they spot them and only one confused Octorok shoots a rock at them. It misses by a mile. Link doesn’t even take out his bow.

They have a quick lunch at Dueling Peaks stable before moving on again. The princess is on edge and shows no interest in the Ha Dahamar shrine. He doesn’t push her — he also wants to reach Hateno Village as soon as possible. 

Throughout their journey, the princess keeps looking at him, a complicated expression on her face. He has no idea what she wants to ask and he doesn’t feel like pushing. They are close to Hateno and to finally fixing the Sheikah Slate. Once it’s fixed, they won’t be tied to the same route anymore. He’ll be able to go wherever he wants again.

And yet, the knot in his throat only tightens. What if this still isn’t enough?

The sun is setting when they enter Hateno Village, but for once it is early enough that the village is still bustling with people. They don’t stop at Link’s house but instead steer the horses straight up the hill to Purah’s laboratory. Link’s horse protests, disgruntled at this final stretch of tough terrain. He pats it and offers it an apple as a peace offering, tossing another one at the princess as an afterthought. 

Once more, Symin opens the door for them.

“Link,” he greets. “Your Highness. Please join us inside.”

No matter the time of day, Purah’s lab is always a picture of barely-controlled chaos. Purah bounces over when they enter, only just avoiding a too-full table. 

“Linky!” she shouts. “Princess! Oh, don’t mind how I look! Got myself into a bit of a pinch with some rune experiments, it’ll wear off eventually and then I’ll look just like my little sis!” She comes to a stop in front of them and eyes them up curiously, pushing her glasses up. “Didn’t expect you here so soon, though. I was watching the castle —” she points up at the approximate spot of the lab’s telescope, “— and I didn’t think you’d be here before tomorrow. What’s my little sis say?”

“We have not yet been to Kakariko Village,” the princess says stiffly. “We thought it imperative that we come here first. It is good to see you, Purah. I believe your aid to be essential for the further restoration of Hyrule.”

Link gives her a sideways glance. Purah too looks taken aback, but she quickly recovers and ushers them to one of the many overflowing tables. Link catches Symin leaving and he imagines Impa will receive a message about their whereabouts by tomorrow morning.

“It’s not like I could refuse a request like that!” Purah hoists herself up onto a chair and haphazardly stacks a bunch of papers onto an even larger stack. She pushes her glasses up. “Now, what can I do?”

“Link, could I have—?”

Link wordlessly hands over the Sheikah Slate. The princess nods her thanks and presents it to Purah. “I must ascertain the state of Hyrule myself as soon as possible. Link has told me the slate can transport one person. I need it to take several.”

“Well!” Purah grabs a piece of paper from the stack next to her. Half of it is already covered in scribbles Link can’t make sense of. “I’m sure I can manage something. Could’ve done it sooner too if Linky here ever let me have the slate for more than a few hours!”

“It has never been an issue before now,” the princess says in his defense. “I have spent the journey here thinking on the matter, and I believe I have some ideas. Could I be of assistance?”

“Of course! Oh, there’s so much about this little thing we don’t know yet. I wonder how the Sheikah tech would interact with your power, princess. You have to let me test it out, maybe at one of the towers, or the Shrine of Resurrection!”

“I would prefer we work on the slate first, Purah,” the princess corrects gently. There is a look in her eyes that Link doesn’t like. Something pained and distant when Purah talked about the princess’ powers. He does not think Purah noticed and the princess does not talk about her time in the castle often. 

Purah has already moved back to the Sheikah Slate, throwing out theories at a rapid rate. The princess listens intently for a few moments, then counters with her own ideas. Link thinks he’s heard some elements in their previous discussions, but he still has no idea how any of this works and no desire to find out. He taps the princess on her shoulder.

“I will go. The horses.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Will I meet you here?” the princess asks, half an eye still on the Sheikah Slate. 

Link nods and takes his leave, guiding the horses down the hill by the reins. Purah and the princess do not need his assistance and he is grateful for the time alone. He crosses Symin on the way back down to the village; they exchange quick nods but no further words. Link wonders how expansive the network of the Sheikah truly is. Lady Impa could get updates from across Hyrule within days. He has no doubt that someone will come find them here in Hateno if they don’t move on soon.

He guides the horses to his house and ties them up. It is now too late to still buy food and the Sheikah Slate is still with the princess, so they’ll have to make do until he can go out tomorrow. He rubs them down and brushes them as an apology.

He could go to the inn for a meal of his own — there’s always someone around to greet late-night travelers — but he doesn’t feel up for speculation about Ganon’s defeat. So he lights the lamps around the house and sits down at his table, his back to the upper level that houses his bed and the picture of the champions. Tomorrow, Purah will want to go to Hateno Tower. Link wishes they could speed up the process, but he doesn’t understand or even remember what Purah and the princess discussed before. Perhaps he should try, just in case these repeats keep happening.

If they keep happening… If the Sheikah Slate isn’t the answer to his problem, then what? The fight against the Calamity has taken on a predictable quality; after so many years, the monster is practically mindless. Highly dangerous, yes, but only because it is so impossibly strong. It shows no strategy, just instinct. Link knows its attacks by now. As long as he is well-rested, he will survive the fight every time.

Is that what’s wrong?

Maybe he should have died a hundred years ago and the Goddess is finally coming to collect her dues. All the other champions fell. Why should he be the one to survive?

There are things he could be doing. The place needs dusting and there’s an annoying patch of plaster that keeps coming loose no matter how many times he fixes it. He even has vague memories of someone complaining about it back when he was a child, but he can’t remember a name or a face, and he didn’t spend much time in Hateno even before he got the Master Sword. 

Yet he doesn’t do anything. He just sits at his table and stares at the wall until it is nearing midnight. He thinks the princess should be done by now, although it is entirely plausible that she and Purah forgot the hour completely and would work through the night if given the chance. With that in mind, he finally gets up and stretches his arms above his head, muscles sore from two days of fighting, riding and now sitting still for several hours. 

The horses are drowsing when he checks on them and don’t appreciate being woken up, so he leaves them alone and makes the trek up to the Ancient Tech Lab on foot. His earlier assumptions are proven right when Symin opens the door and pulls him inside, looking distinctly relieved to see him.

“Her Highness is very passionate about this project,” he says, which Link takes to mean that the princess has not looked away from the slate since he left. Indeed, she and Purah are bent over a work table that’s been hastily cleared — Link has to manoeuvre around the stacks of paper that used to be on the table a few hours ago. Next to the Sheikah Slate, all the cores and Guardian parts that Link collected are spread out. Link winces and does a quick count: the giant cores are all still accounted for; at least they haven’t used any in an attempt at experimenting. 

Neither the princess nor Purah notice him coming in. It is only when he goes to stand right next to the princess that she spots him. She startles heavily, dropping the core she’d been studying. Link catches it before it hits the ground.

“Link! What time is it?” The princess blinks, looking out of the window into the dark night.

“It has just gone midnight, Your Highness,” Symin replies in Link’s place. The princess makes a face.

“I’m terribly sorry for keeping you so late.” She nudges Purah. “I think we should continue this tomorrow, Purah.”

Purah pulls a face. “Princess, we’re making progress here!” 

“We cannot do anything more without visiting the tower,” the princess says. She sounds frustrated about it too. “We’ve made good progress already. I will return in the morning.”

With that, she gently pries the Sheikah Slate from Purah’s hands, ignoring her protests, and gathers up the cores and Guardian parts strewn across the table. She rubs at her eyes and barely stifles a yawn. 

“I really am sorry. We lost track of time,” she tells Link when they leave the lab, handing the Sheikah Slate back to him. Link hooks it onto his belt again and immediately feels more at ease. “But I think we can figure it out. You’ve collected so many Guardian parts already!”

She sounds happy, but her eyes are searching. Link ducks his head.

“There are many Guardians.”

“Yes, I suppose there are.” The princess looks out over Hateno Village. “Is everything all right?”

Link nods. The princess waits for him to say more, but he has nothing to tell her.

“I think we should get the slate upgraded in another day or two,” she says finally, when the silence drags on. Link nods again and belatedly thinks of a question to ask.

“Where will you go?”

He expects the princess to go to Kakariko Village, where she can finally meet with Impa and learn about the state of Hyrule. But the princess doesn’t mention Impa. She falls into a pensive silence, glancing at Link and the Sheikah Slate on his belt.

“I don’t know,” she finally says, sounding surprised by her own words. “I really don’t know. There are so many places… Where would you go?”

It’s the second time in as many days that she’s asked him where to go instead of setting out a course herself. Link feels just as off-kilter as he did yesterday. He usually goes wherever he feels like going without giving it too much thought; once he activated all of the shrines across Hyrule, there was always some shrine or tower near his destination.

"The champions' weapons," he says at long last. "The ones that survived the battle. I want to give them back."

This time, like the last times, he'd lost the Great Eagle Bow and Daybreaker; but the other weapons are all safe within the Sheikah Slate. This time, unlike the last times he repeated these days, he has to hope that upgrading the Sheikah Slate will end this — and with that hope, he dares to think of an after. 

With the exception of Daruk's Boulder Breaker, too heavy for most Gorons to lift, he had used the weapons enough to gain familiarity with them but not much more than that. All of them are amazing creations, but none of them were truly made for him. He feels it in the way he wields them. 

He can return the surviving weapons, and perhaps bring some closure to the Champions' people.

The weapons belong to them more than they belong with Link.

(Of the two that he lost beneath the ruins of Hyrule Castle's Sanctum, Daybreaker can be rebuilt easily enough, but he still feels guilty for losing the pieces of the Great Eagle Bow. At least Harth knows the workings of it. He has sometimes toyed with the thought of asking the bowyer to make him a bow like it. He thinks Revali might have been amused to see him using a knock-off of his own bow.)

“That is a good idea. Perhaps we could go to Zora’s Domain first?” the princess says, oblivious to his thoughts. She tugs at her Hylian tunic and gives him a self-deprecating smile. “I don’t think I’d do very well anywhere else.”

Link nods. It’s as good a place to start as any. He only wishes he didn’t have to tell Sidon and King Dorephan that Mipha is now truly gone.

They enter the sleeping village. The princess yawns once more. She’s slept just as few hours as Link and she’s been awake for a century before that. Link assumes something about her powers kept her going, or the Calamity would have taken over years before Link’s body was even capable of reviving.

“We’ll be going to Hateno Tower tomorrow. You don’t need to come if you don’t want to,” she says. Link hides a grimace at being read so easily. It is tempting to not spend the day with Purah, but he still doesn’t feel right leaving the princess on her own. He shakes his head. The princess smiles, but it doesn’t look right on her face.

“I am grateful that you didn’t give up on me. You and the champions,” she says haltingly. “But you shouldn’t feel obligated, Link. My father is no longer around to give you orders. I… I will not stop you if you wish to leave.”

For the first time in a long while, Link actually looks at her properly. She looks small, scared. He remembers the princess Zelda who hated him for following her around constantly. But he also remembers the princess Zelda who had been, despite their entirely different stations, something of a friend.

He had very few friends. He misses that friendship and he knows the princess does too.

“I don’t want to leave,” he says. He doesn’t want to go back to the court intrigue. He hated the life of following orders and being looked down upon for being too young and too prodigious. But he has more friends now than he ever did in the past and he thinks the princess could still be one of them.

The princess smiles. It is small, but it is by far the most genuine smile he’s seen since Ganon’s first defeat. “Then, Link, will you call me Zelda? Please?”

Link takes a deep breath. His throat still feels tight, the words getting stuck all the time. But — 

“Zelda,” he manages. “I will try.”

Not yet, he thinks even though the princess’ smile is bright enough to light up the village. Not yet, but perhaps when they’re finally free from these repeats and he does not have to live with the guilt anymore. Perhaps then.

If he’s still alive by the end of it.

Link insists on delivering Purah’s message to Robbie personally instead of sending it off by messenger, and the princess needs no convincing. With the message delivered, and with Robbie’s assurance that he’ll start working on the issue immediately, they head out to Hateno Tower again. Link doesn’t follow the princess and Purah up onto the tower. Instead he spends the morning watching the monsters, which had scattered at the sight of them, slowly return to their platform. They no longer attack travelers, that much is clear. 

Some days, when he had nowhere urgent to be, Link used to put on the Bokoblin mask he’d bought from the weird monster merchant and hang out with one of the small groups of Bokoblins that litter the countryside. He found that he rather liked them; when they’re not attacking travelers, they’re silly and playful with surprising flashes of intelligence and a less surprising penchant for anything edible. Without the malice influencing them, is that all they are? Will they be able to live peacefully in the wild? Or will the people of Hyrule hunt them to extinction, driven by the memories of the constant attacks?

It’s a sobering thought. He wonders if the princess would be able to do anything to prevent that. If she’d be interested in doing so at all.

Purah and the princess descend near noon. Link tries to let Purah’s ramblings wash over him as they head back to Hateno. He wishes he understood more of it, then he could fix the Sheikah Slate himself, or at least tell Purah and the princess what to do without going through the same motions over and over again. 

Once back in Hateno, the princess and Purah lock themselves into the lab again and Link busies himself with the horses until they call for him. By then, it’s already nearing dinnertime and Link really wishes it wouldn’t take so long.

“Good news is I’m pretty sure you’ve got everything we need, Linky!” Purah tells him and Link hides his sigh of relief behind a nod. It is good news. He was afraid that he’d missed something and that he would need to repeat the loop all over again. 

He actually manages to get the princess out of the lab before midnight. She looks exhausted; there are dark circles underneath her eyes that weren’t there yesterday. She’s been working herself to the bone on just a few hours of sleep. But she shakes her head when Link remarks on it.

“I’ll be fine,” she says airily. The Hateno sky is rapidly darkening and Link wonders how many more days they’ll spend here. Will they finally be able to move on to other places tomorrow? 

The princess giggles when Link makes a doubtful noise. “No, really, it’s fine. You know,” she looks around to check if no one’s watching and leans closer, “my powers have actually become stronger? I thought I’d used them all up defeating Ganon, but right now, I don’t think so.” Her hand glows. Link remembers her showing him what remained of her powers many days ago at Fort Hateno, and he has to admit that she might be right. The light encasing her hand is no longer the weak, flickering thing it used to be, but a steady bright burn.

“I think it would be easier now, keeping Ganon in check. I hope to never face such a battle again, but if something were to happen,” she gives him a sideways look and the glow around her hand winks out of existence, “then I think I’ll do better.”

Link ducks his head, overcome by guilt. He wishes he could reassure her. But he cannot guarantee that he’s not sending her straight back to facing the Calamity, not when they only have two days left to get the Sheikah Slate working and he doesn’t even know if that’s the answer to this problem. 

The princess keeps looking at him while they walk across the bridge that leads to Link’s house. He wishes he knew what she wants him to say. He wishes he could be the kind of person who has the right words for her.

“I really wish you’d come to me earlier with the slate!” Purah says the next day when Link enters the lab, following the princess who makes a beeline for the workbench. Purah gestures impatiently for the Sheikah Slate and Link holds it out to her. “It’s so amazing! You know it stores all the maps connected to the Guidance Stones, not just the ones of the towers?” She opens up the map of Hyrule and does… something with the slate that Link can’t follow. The view switches to a map of the castle. He leans in closer.

“Look, see?” Purah continues. “Castle. Must’ve saved it when I upgraded the camera. This beauty here,” she gestures at the Guidance Stone in her lab, “used to be in the castle. And here—“ she swipes between maps, “You’ve got the Divine Beasts.”

Link recognizes Vah Rudania and swallows hard. Purah continues swiping, going past Vah Medoh and Vah Ruta and lingering on Vah Naboris. “There really is stuff here we never knew about. See here,” she points to an empty area underneath the main terminal, “I never knew about this part. They’ve all got it. I wonder what it’s used for.”

Link, uncharitably, wonders why she bothers. The beasts will go dormant soon enough.

The princess grimaces too. “Let’s finish our work here first, all right?” she says, gently taking the slate and handing it back to Link. “Could you take a message to Robbie, please?”

So Link spends the rest of the day going back and forth between Hateno and Akkala. He watches anxiously as the number of Guardian parts grows smaller with each trip he makes. If it still isn’t enough… 

But it is. By late afternoon, when Link returns from one last foray to the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab, he finds Purah, Symin and the princess clustered around the Guidance Stone in Purah’s lab. Purah gestures impatiently for the slate when Link enters. He reluctantly hands it over, along with the small badge Robbie handed him with great solemnity and which Link doesn’t know the purpose of. 

“So here’s the thing,” Purah announces. She hands the badge to the princess and gestures broadly with the slate. “This here? It barely did anything when we found it. Just the camera, that’s all. And we managed to activate the Divine Beasts with it, but the champions had to figure out all their piloting manually.”

“We think there used to be more than one Sheikah Slate, possibly one for each of the original pilots of the Divine Beasts,” the princess adds, regret coloring her voice. Link swallows hard. It’s too late. There’s no point in ruminating on the past.

“But we always knew it could do more,” Purah continues. “You already got those bomb runes and all your other runes. And so when we looked into this little beauty’s programming, we found that it used to be able to transport dozens of people at once. Only the slate was locked down until it could do nothing more than interface with the Divine Beasts and the tower network.”

“We can speculate why that is,” says the princess, and Link thinks of an ancient king who was terrified of the Sheikah, “but it is fortunate for us. We don’t need to create a new functionality. We only need to unlock one it already has.”

“And these cores are brilliant for it!” Purah holds up a Giant Ancient Core. “Do you know how much information these babies contain? Good thing Ganon never figured that out, he’d be able to go anywhere!”

Link shudders. Guardians appearing out of nowhere all over Hyrule? The ones he had to face were already bad enough and he saw those coming.

“Anyway, that’s what we’ve been working on, Robbie and I. The Giant Cores can unlock parts of the slate, as long as you know the cypher. And Cherry’s been deciphering that.” Purah presents Link with… a bowl? It’s a bowl, just the right size for one of the Giant Ancient Cores, with a lid that fits the Sheikah Slate and a rectangular protrusion at the bottom that slots into the Guidance Stone. She tosses the Giant Core into the bowl and puts the lid back on. Then she locks the whole thing into the Guidance Stone. “Just put one in, attach it to the slate, and it does all the decoding for us! No time like the present, right?”

The Guidance Stone starts glowing and the bowl pulses an ominous bright blue along with it. Purah slots the Sheikah Slate on top of it. Link glances at the princess and takes a step in front of her.

“It should be safe,” the princess says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve already tested it with the smaller cores.”

That doesn’t do much to reassure Link, both because the princess and Purah experimented while he was away and because the regular cores are a lot smaller than the Giant Cores. He reaches for his shield and belatedly remembers that he stores all his weapons except for the Master Sword in the Sheikah Slate. The Sheikah Slate, which is now glowing the same bright blue as the Guidance Stone.

Link has only ever seen information trickle down from the Guidance Stone into the slate. Now tendrils of blue light reach up from the bowl through the slate and into the Guidance Stone above it. Purah jumps in excitement.

“Look, it’s working! They’re interfacing!”

As she says it, the bowl shakes violently and the light disappears. Link glances at the princess uncertainly, but Purah isn’t deterred. She detaches the slate and opens the bowl, fishing out a Giant Ancient Core that is utterly burnt out.

“We figured that would happen. That’s why we’ve got more!” She tosses the broken core at Symin and grabs a second Giant Core, slotting it into the bowl and attaching the Sheikah Slate once more. “Here we go!” 

The process repeats, the Sheikah Slate glowing brighter with each successive core. Link starts fidgeting when Purah takes the fourth Giant Core. What if he still doesn’t have enough cores? Or worse, what if the Sheikah Slate gets destroyed entirely?

But when she tosses out the fourth core and slots in the fifth, the now-familiar light abruptly cuts out. The Sheikah Slate goes dark and Link bites his lip. The princess and Purah are still looking at the Guidance Stone intently. Then, very slowly, a droplet of blue energy appears at the tip of the Stone.

“Yes!” Purah cheers. The princess claps her hands and together they watch as the droplet takes shape and finally falls onto the Sheikah Slate. The slate glows bright blue one last time and Purah snatches it up, quickly scanning through to the map.

“It worked!” she shouts, shoving the map in Link’s face. Link doesn’t notice anything different until Purah taps the Hateno Shrine and a new prompt comes up. 

“‘ All ’?” Link asks the princess. The princess smiles mysteriously and holds up the badge Link just brought back from Robbie. It glows the same bright blue as the shrines and Guidance Stones. She clips it to her tunic, out of sight underneath her collar.

“They’re connected to the slate. You should be able to take everyone along who has one.”

“Used to be that it just transported every living creature within a range of five meters,” Purah adds, “but we didn’t like that.”

Link doesn’t either. He doesn’t particularly want to take along Lynels to Hateno. 

“So now it’s just anyone who has something like this.” The princess taps her collar. “And for now that’s just me. Do you want to try?”

Link clutches the slate, unsure. What if it’s not safe? But the princess looks so excited, so with trepidation, he selects the Hateno shrine once more and taps ‘all’.

The sensation of disappearing and reappearing in another place has long become familiar to him. What is new is the princess reforming out of thin air just a moment later and landing on the dais next to him. She stumbles and he grabs her arm to steady her.

“It worked!” she cheers when she takes in their surroundings. “Are you feeling okay, Link? Did anything feel different?”

Link shakes his head. It really worked. They can go anywhere they want again. And Link… Link doesn’t know what’s going to happen next.

They warp back to Purah’s lab, where Purah is predictably ecstatic. They’ve finally accomplished what they’ve been working on for three repeats already. And it will still be an entire day before Link knows if it was enough. Before he has to figure out what to do if it isn’t.

It’s late, but not so late that they wouldn’t be welcomed in Zora’s Domain anymore, so Link expects the princess to go there right away. But she doesn’t. Instead, they warp back to the shrine in the village and walk to Link’s house. 

“I’m not sure what to tell them,” the princess confesses when she’s sat at Link’s table. “It’s been so many years since I’ve spoken to Mipha. What do I even say? That she fought bravely?” She sighs and stares down at her hands. “Of course she did. They all did.”

Link casts a wry glance at the picture in the upper part of the house. Yes, they did. But they were so much more than that.

“Hey, you talked to them, right?” The princess casts a shy glance at Link. “Did you see them often?” 

Link nods. Haltingly, he tells her about them. Mipha, who helped him fill in a past he didn’t remember with endless patience. Urbosa, always so worried about the princess’ well-being yet confident that he’d be able to save her. Daruk, who sat with him when he didn’t feel like talking and was always endlessly interested in his adventures when he did. And —

“Even Revali?” the princess says, astonished. Link gives her a blank look, trying not to feel annoyed. 

“Yes,” he says. Even Revali, he tells her. They may not have gotten along in the past, but that changed when they discovered their shared love of flying. When they realized being friends had always been an option.

He has a lot more friends now than he had a century ago. But in many ways, the champions were the first people he truly trusted to have his back and now they’re all gone.

“I miss them,” the princess says after a long silence. She rubs a thumb over the fingers of her other hand. “We should… After things are better. We should honor them. They deserve at least that much.”

Link has been caught up in the journey from the castle to Kakariko Village and eventually Hateno Village for so long that he nearly forgot that other places existed. Aside from his brief excursions to Akkala and the repeated disappointment of waking up in Rito Village, he hasn’t set foot in the rest of Hyrule for many days now, so appearing in the shrine in the middle of Zora’s Domain is something of a shock. The princess steps off the dais and almost falls straight into the pond. 

“Oh wow,” she marvels, turning around in the water. Link hops off the dais and makes his way to dry land. “I’m glad it worked over this distance too.”

Link shoots her a glare. That’s the kind of thing he really wishes they’d told him before. The princess chuckles and smiles apologetically, before wading to the other end of the pool. Once there, she straightens her shoulders and becomes Princess Zelda once more. She is wearing the formal clothes she used to travel in before the Calamity, sent over by Impa once it became clear that they would not be visiting Kakariko Village. Link too has switched out his Hylian tunic for his Champion’s tunic. Even though the princess no longer has a castle and only the barest remains of a kingdom, this is still an official visit.

They emerge onto the central square, where Mipha’s statue watches over the travelers entering the domain. Seeing the statue doesn’t quite give Link the shock it used to, but the princess freezes up when they round it and she finally gets to see Mipha’s face. She looks down and clenches her hands. Link steps closer to her, but is interrupted by Kodah.

“Linny! Is that you? We heard about the Calamity!” She rounds Mipha’s statue, all smiles, but stops when she sees the princess. She stutters into a bow.

“Your Highness. I am glad to see you alive and well.”

“Please, no,” the princess waves her hands at Kodah. “There is no need to bow. Ah, I do not believe we’ve met before?”

“My name is Kodah.” Kodah does straighten up, but she has trouble looking the princess in the eye.  “Please, this way. The king and prince will be pleased to see you.”

She gestures at the stairs and shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. Link nods in thanks and leads the princess away. The Zora are staring, many of them recognizing the princess from a century ago. It makes her posture more rigid with every step they take.

When they arrive at the throne room, Sidon and King Dorephan have already been alerted of their presence. Sidon is the first to greet them.

“Link! It is good to see you safe and sound, my friend! Come on in, come in!” He claps a hand on Link’s shoulder and turns to the princess. “And Princess Zelda. We are delighted to have you with us, of course.”

“Prince Sidon.” The princess gives him a shallow bow, which Sidon returns. While the princess is technically the new Hylian ruler following her father’s death, she has not been officially confirmed as such, leaving her and Sidon as royals of the same rank. “It is a great joy to see you again. You have grown since we last met.”

The subject of Mipha lingers between them, but Sidon pushes past it and ushers both Link and the princess into the throne room, where the king is waiting. He leaves them in front of the throne and takes up his position next to his father. The princess bows to King Dorephan.

“Your Majesty. I have come to announce the defeat of the Calamity. The Beast is no more,” the princess says. She takes a deep breath. When she speaks again, her voice breaks. “Champion Mipha fought long and hard to protect the people of Hyrule. It is my deepest regret to inform you that she has fallen in battle.”

Link presents Mipha’s Lightscale Trident to the king, bowing low as he does. He has never once bowed for any ruler since waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection, but his own guilt is a heavy weight. The portal to Vah Ruta was gone when they woke up in Hateno this morning, as were those of the other Divine Beasts.

“We thank you,” says King Dorephan. Muzu rushes to take the Lightscale Trident, but the king waves him off and instead rises from his throne to take it himself. He cradles the trident to his chest. “For your efforts, and for returning this last piece of my daughter. Perhaps now we can finally lay her to rest.”

Link straightens up, as does the princess. Sidon meets them, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you. I am glad that my sister will be remembered outside of our domain. I merely wish you would have told me you intended to face the Calamity, Link. I would have had your back.”

“The Champion performed impeccably even without our support, I’m sure,” says King Dorephan. Link doesn’t take the dismissal personally. The king has already lost his daughter to her desire to help him. It shouldn’t cost him his son.

“Your Highness, Champion,” the king continues. “Please rely on our hospitality for a little while longer. We wish to honor your accomplishments, as well as those of Princess Mipha.”

“We would be honored, Your Majesty,” the princess says. 

“Then please, allow us to help you freshen up,” Sidon says. “You must have had a long journey.”

Sidon has seen Link appear in the Zora shrine often enough to know that this is far from the case, but it is a polite fiction that allows them to escape the uproar across the domain. Wherever they go, the Zora are suddenly hard at work setting up a feast. The mood, though festive, carries an air of melancholy and Link witnesses a group of Zora children clustered around Mipha’s statue.

“We really are grateful for bringing us the Lightscale Trident, Link,” Sidon tells him as they reach a room away from the crowd, clearly intended for visiting dignitaries. “It is the only thing we ever found from my sister.”

“You never found her body?” the princess blurts out, then clasps her hands in front of her mouth, mortified. Sidon takes it in stride.

“We did not. When we tried to lay her Trident to rest, her spirit made it clear that her mission was not yet fulfilled.”

The princess lowers her head. “I was given to believe that she commanded Vah Ruta even in our final battle with the Calamity.”

“Then I am glad that my sister was able to keep watch over us.” Sidon sighs deeply. “I will leave you to prepare. Please let me know if you need anything at all.”

There isn’t much they can prepare for. Link unnecessarily washes his face and waits for the princess to finish brushing her hair so he can brush his own. The princess attempts a braided crown, but gives up halfway through and just leaves her hair loose. Link, whose hairstyling capabilities are limited to tying his own hair up, doesn’t offer to help her. He wonders if he should wear Mipha’s Zora Armor but decides against it. Too much of an unwelcome reminder of a wish that could never be.

“Did they ever find the other champions’ bodies?” the princess asks, tugging at the cuffs of her outfit. Link frowns and shakes his head. No, he’s never heard anyone talk about giving the champions a true burial. Not so surprising in the case of the Rito, who remember little of their past, but stranger for the Gorons and Gerudo. He’s only ever heard about the Zora’s attempts to lay Mipha’s Lightscale Trident to rest.

“I see. I imagine it would be hard to recover a body from Ganon’s monsters.” The princess sighs and sits down. “We shall make sure their names are not forgotten.”

Despite the short notice, the Zora manage to organise a celebration that far outclasses the one he remembers from Kakariko Village. There are speeches, and many of the Zora wish to talk to the princess, who looks overwhelmed by it all. The longer the feast goes on and the more people thank them for defeating the Calamity, the more withdrawn she becomes. Link sees her close her eyes after another group of Zora leave. He intimately knows the headache that comes with too many people for too long, but she is the princess. There isn’t much he can do to help her.

She slips out between conversations and he follows behind her. She glances at him over her shoulder, smiles faintly and slows down so he can catch up. They end up in front of Mipha’s statue. They’re not the only ones with that idea. Of course they aren’t: King Dorephan and Sidon sang Mipha’s praises with every word they spoke, so now the square is full of people reminiscing about her. 

The princess moves to the very edge of the square. She cannot avoid people noticing her, but at least here people are more interested in the statue than in any conversation with her. 

At night, Mipha’s statue seems to glow. The princess sits down on the step that leads to the road away from Zora’s Domain. Link joins her.

“Did I do the right thing, you think? Telling the king and prince that she’s gone?” the princess asks. Link looks at her. She’s staring straight up at the statue.

“It is customary.”

“I don’t want to open old wounds,” the princess argues back. Link shakes his head. Sidon and King Dorephan have known for years that Mipha died.

“I suppose… There is comfort to be found in customs,” the princess continues. She’s not really talking to Link. “It matters.”

Link nods. He doesn’t think the princess sees it. She closes her eyes, but not before Link spots the tears glistening on her lashes. 

“… They’re really gone, aren’t they?”

Link lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes,” he whispers. Yes, they really are gone. Unless he wakes up in Rito Village again tomorrow and this accursed loop keeps repeating. He has mourned the loss of the champions four times now. How many more times can he be expected to do so before he breaks? 

“I’m so tired, Link,” the princess whispers. She buries her face in her hands, voice coming out in broken little hitches. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, or what’s going to happen tomorrow, and almost everyone I know is gone. ”

What can he say to that? She’s right. At least Link has friends across Hyrule. The princess has a nation to rebuild with almost no one to rely on. He will try to be there for her, because she is a friend, but the memory of the royal retinue still terrifies him. 

He carefully puts a hand on her shoulder and she immediately turns to him, sobbing into his shoulder. He tightens his grip. The Sheikah Slate works as it should now. If he wakes up in Rito Village again, if the slate isn’t the reason the Calamity needs to be defeated over and over again…

If it isn’t, then every champion must fall in battle. Then even he won’t be around to support the princess anymore.

Chapter Text

He wakes up in Rito Village.

Of course he wakes up in Rito Village.

If he closes his eyes and pretends hard enough, then maybe the bed underneath him will change into a water bed. The howling wind will turn into sloshing waves. And the princess will be in the next bed over instead of trapped in the castle all over again.

His imagination was never quite that good. 

So he has to die. He has to go back to the castle, fight the Calamity and then, when the princess can finish off the monster once and for all, he has to let himself be killed. He has to free Hyrule from the terror that is Calamity Ganon. His life is a small price to pay. He already almost paid it, so what’s once more?

What’s the death of yet another champion when four of them are already lost to the world?

Link gets up mechanically. Leaves the village. Kills the same Moblins threatening the same traveler who gives him the same spicy elixir in thanks. Wonders once more what use an elixir against the cold is to someone wearing a Snowquill set. 

He heads towards the stable. Then he stops. Turns around. 

Perhaps a century ago, he would have been willing to lay down his life. He almost did. But he’s not that person anymore. And there lies the problem.

He doesn’t want to die.

Not like this, not when he knows he can defeat the Calamity. Not when it would be so utterly pointless. He wishes, more than anything, that he could just vent out all his anger and frustration. Common sense dictates he go to Mipha for support. Maybe Daruk or even Urbosa. They would commiserate. They would try to help. They would be sensible.

Link doesn’t want sensible.

He and Revali are friends now, of a kind. They bonded over the paraglider and flying and the Rito. So instead of going to the stable, he turns back and walks towards Rito Village.

When Vah Medoh comes into view, he waves and launches into Gale, letting the paraglider and the updrafts on the lake carry him to the highest point of the village. It isn’t nearly enough to reach Medoh’s perch, but it gets him a decent amount of the way there. The rest of the way he climbs. He’s been making the climb quite regularly, ever since Revali called him lazy for using the Sheikah Slate. It’s good practice and it gets Revali’s feathers all ruffled.

They’re still figuring out the shape of their friendship. Neither of them were ever any good at it: Link had his friends in Zora’s Domain when they were all children, but he lost contact with them and didn’t meet them again until any notions of friendship had already been drilled out of him and he was nearly an adult while the Zora were still stuck in childhood. Revali, from what little he’s told Link about his life, only ever got along with the bowyer who made his Great Eagle Bow.

When Link hauls himself over the edge of Medoh’s perch, Revali is pretending very hard that he wasn’t waiting for him. “Slower than last time,” he says by way of greeting.

Link sits himself down and looks out towards the castle. Any doubts he might have had about Ganon’s return are instantly erased. There is the Calamity again, covering the castle and spreading out tendrils of malice towards the rest of Hyrule. He fought tooth and nail to defeat it. He’s fought tooth and nail to defeat it four times now. It is mindless; if it ever had any intelligence left to it, it is long gone. He can predict its movements now. Falling to it would be a disgrace.

“Hey,” Revali prods, when Link fails to come up with a retort. “What’s up?”

Link nods at the castle. Revali clicks his beak.

“Are you still unsure?” he asks, harsher than Mipha would have but practically kind by his standards. “I thought you — Yesterday, you —“

Yes, the day before he fought Ganon the first time, he’d visited all the people he’d come to know and all the champions waiting for release. He had thought it would be the last time he’d ever see them. He’d even made peace with it. He hadn’t been able to tell them of his plans, but he’s sure they knew.

Now Revali’s yesterday is almost a month ago for Link and like the princess, he is so tired. Too tired to put up with the pretense any longer. Too tired even for the words to stick in his throat like they usually would.

“I did,” he says. “I went. Fought Ganon.”

Revali’s feathers puff up in agitation. It’s barely noticeable, but Link knows his tells now.

“You did? But I was watching— Did you have to retreat? Is it really that strong?” His voice breaks on that last word and oh. Revali was afraid too. Wasn’t sure that Link would succeed where they all failed so miserably.

“No. I beat him. I came back here.”

Revali looks at the castle and back down at him, confusion ill-concealed. “Did it revive? I thought there was a blood moon last night but then it was gone, and I didn’t see—”

“Didn’t fight it today. Five days ago. And ten. But also today.”

“What’s that mean?” Revali crosses his arms the way Molli does when someone doubts one of her stories. “Did you get hit with something?”

“No. Well.” Yes, many times, but none of that is relevant to the situation at hand. “It repeats. Five days.” He draws a circle with his pointer finger. Round and round it goes. He wonders how much longer he’ll be caught in this loop. If he dies and it still isn’t enough, then what? Will he just keep going? How many more times will he have this conversation? Maybe one day it will become so easy the words don’t even cut his throat apart. Maybe in a few hours, he’ll be dead.

Not yet, though. And he and Revali still need so many words to understand each other. Revali’s eyes follow the circles he’s drawing in the air. Again and again. He can’t stop his hand from moving and it feels just like the loop he’s trapped in. Back to the beginning no matter what he tries.

“Hey, stop that!” Revali says. He tries to put a wing on Link’s hands, but he’s not alive so he can’t touch. He can’t help. He’s just as trapped as Link is, only he doesn’t know it and once he stops being trapped, he’ll be gone forever and there’ll be no one who knows what fighting the Calamity is like except the princess and she shouldn’t want anything to do with him anyway, not when he’s sending her back into the hell that is Hyrule Castle again and again and again and again —

“Link!” Revali snaps. Link takes a shuddering breath and balls his fists. His nails are too bitten down to reach his palms. He can’t even use that little stab of pain to clear his mind.

“Deep breaths, hey, keep breathing!” Revali sounds like he’s in need of a couple deep breaths himself, but of course he can’t take them. Link might lose that ability in just a few hours himself. That thought makes Link giggle hysterically until he’s gasping in the breaths Revali told him to take. He does not know how long it takes him to calm down, only that Revali is fluttering around him anxiously and casting looks at the village below, as if to beg for help. Useless too. The updrafts from Lake Totori don’t reach all the way up here and no Rito ever managed what Revali could. Once he defeats the Calamity for good, Revali’s gift will be lost to the world forever. He’ll never fly freely again.

He thinks he’s crying. The stinging of his eyes and the freezing Hebra winds at least distract from the tightness in his throat. He manages to take a breath, then another and another until he doesn’t have to consciously tell himself to breathe anymore.

“You okay now?” Revali ventures cautiously, wings outstretched as if Link’s a bomb set to go off at any moment. That also strikes Link as funny, but a normal kind of funny and not the kind of funny that makes him want to cry. He nods and manages to unclench one of his hands enough to gesture fine.

“So you’ve been… Repeating? Today?” Revali asks. Link nods again and holds up five fingers.

“Five days. Starting today?”

“I defeat Ganon today. Then Kakariko Village, or Hateno. With the princess. You’re gone.”

He gestures, encompassing Vah Naboris and Vah Ruta and Vah Rudania in one sweep. Gone. At least the Divine Beasts still remain. The first time, the princess had expressed a wish to visit them. Link is glad she never brought it up again.

Revali remains silent for quite some time, especially by his standards. His feathers are fluffed up again. Link wants to smooth them out. 

“How do you know?” Revali asks at long last, eyes firmly fixed on the castle. Is he afraid after all? For all that most people in Hyrule don’t fear death, sure of the Goddess’ embrace, it must be different for the champions. Link wishes with all his heart that there was another way.

“Gale,” he says, pressing a hand against his chest, where the champions’ gifts are once more comfortably settled. “It disappears. The others too.” 

And when they are gone, they leave an emptiness that thankfully only lasts a few days before he has to do it all over again. 

“I see,” Revali says, still with that faraway look. “I suppose we at least get to keep our gifts in the beyond.”

Link doesn’t say how much he will miss them, not when the idea brings Revali some modicum of comfort.

“Is it always five days? Even when you don’t fight the Calamity?” Revali finally looks away from the castle and fixes piercing eyes on Link. Link shakes his head.

“It keeps going?”

“Haven’t tried,” Link says, eyebrows briefly pulling together. He doesn’t like it when his hands don’t suffice and he has to speak. He also doesn’t like the idea of waiting out these five days. Whenever he enters the castle, he’s only just in time to fight Ganon when the princess loses control. She'd seemed so confident in her powers in the last repeat, but he also remembers how faint the glow around her hands had been before. Which is it? Can he really risk Ganon running rampant just to test a theory?

Perhaps he can stay close to the castle. Use the strange medallion he found in Lomei Labyrinth as an easy access point. As the princess’ appointed protector, he learned about many of the shortcuts and secret passageways. Plenty of them are still safe. The most dangerous creatures in the castle are the Guardians and the Lynels, and their greater bulk prevents them from entering the smaller hallways. He can get to the top of the castle quickly if he needs to.

If he can keep an eye on the Calamity and make sure it doesn’t break free, the thought of waiting out the next five days is admittedly quite tempting.

“I’ll try,” he tells Revali. Revali nods with more satisfaction than the situation truly warrants.

“If time turns back in five days, then you know it’s nothing to do with the Calamity, right? If it doesn’t…”

If it doesn’t, then it truly is Link’s fault. Then he’s doing something wrong when defeating Ganon. Then he really has to die.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to bring himself to. But five days. He can wait five days. It’s not fair to keep the princess waiting even longer but, he consoles himself, she won’t know. He’ll break this cycle and the princess will never need to know how many times he failed her. 

Nor will anyone else.

He doesn’t tell Revali about his plans. Revali finally holds some esteem for him. He doesn’t want to lose it when his failures are revealed once more.

For five days, he keeps the castle in sight. He sneaks into the castle on the first day just to place the travel medallion on the walkway towards the Castle Sanctum. If something does happen, he’ll have a portal point ready.  Still, he doesn’t dare stray far on the first two days, so he kills all the Guardians in Castle Town and sleeps in Central Tower. Nothing happens on the first day, nor on the second day, and by the third day, Link risks going to Akkala Citadel for the Guardians there. 

The castle remains standing. The princess keeps her hold on the Calamity. Guiltily, Link wonders if perhaps she only lost control because he arrived to defeat it. 

Day four is when he ventures into the labyrinths that litter the outskirts of Hyrule. Here he can’t keep an eye on the castle, so Revali does it for him. Whenever he uses Gale, he’s met with Revali shaking his head. The castle is fine. The princess hasn’t lost control. Link’s indecision isn’t causing the destruction of what little remains of Hyrule. 

On the fifth day, he warps back to Rito Village. He has an early dinner with Teba, Saki and Harth and manages to avoid any uncomfortable questions by telling Tulin and Molli about the Guardians he defeated. That gets the kids excited enough that their parents can barely get a word in edgewise. He declines their offer to spend the night in the roost. Instead, he leaves the village and begins the long climb up to Vah Medoh again.

“I keep thinking you can’t get slower and yet you do,” Revali greets him. Link rolls his eyes, making sure that Revali can see him. He hoists himself over the edge and looks at the castle. 

“Still fine,” Revali says. Link nods. The castle looks the same as always. Nothing has changed since he last stood here five days ago. 

“Should be tonight then?” Revali continues. Link nods again and opens the Sheikah Slate. He gets out his bedroll and finds the flattest bit of rock on the spire. Revali follows behind him. He clicks his beak when Link rolls out his bedroll.

“What exactly do you plan on doing?”

Link looks at him, then back at the bedroll, and raises his eyebrows. “Sleeping,” he says. He thought that much would have been obvious.

“What, here?” Revali’s voice raises in pitch. Link nods. He busies himself with making a fire and pretending there’s nothing at all unusual about his chosen camping site. Up here, the Hebra winds are icy and cutting, but his Snowquill set is more than capable of shielding him from the cold and he has spent the night in worse places.  

Tomorrow, he might be back in the Swallow’s Roost and Revali won’t remember anything of the last five days.

“Fine.” Revali sniffs. “Go invade my home, see if I care.” 

Link snorts. That’s as close to permission as he’s ever going to get. He doesn’t want to be alone, he doesn’t say. If he’s signing his death warrant tonight, he wants to spend what little time he has left with someone who knows what’s going on. Perhaps Revali understands, because he puts up no further protest.

He roasts some meat and veggies over the fire and just stops himself from offering Revali some. He doesn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up any inconvenient facts.

He is too jittery to sleep just yet, so he takes out the Ancient Bow he had Robbie make. It’s a new bow, created after Revali already… well, died, and he’s right in thinking that Revali would be interested.

“So what, it always shoots in a straight line?”

Link points at the luminous stones far below them, nocks a fire arrow and shoots. Together they watch the straight line the fire makes, until it impacts with the stone below and fizzles out.

“Don’t pull up your shoulders like that,” Revali says. Link makes a conscious effort to relax, nocks a second arrow and lets it go. Revali nods.

“Better. I suppose they’re good bows, if you’re a fledgling learning to shoot.” Revali gives him a once-over as Link takes a third arrow and pulls the bowstring taut. “At least you still know how to.”

Link lowers the bow without shooting. He knew how to shoot while airborne from the moment he touched the paraglider. He’s never seen another Hylian do that. It can’t have been part of his training.

Once more, Link curses his lack of memories. Revali gave him the paraglider. Did he also…?

“I can shoot from the air,” he says. 

“I suppose you could call it that. What about it?”

“Didn’t learn that in the army,” Link mutters. Revali scoffs.

“No, Hylia forbid, I can’t imagine what a mess that would have been. Have you seen what passes for archery with you Hylians?”

Link makes a face. He supposes he has, once, but he doesn’t remember. He only knows that the feel of a bow was familiar, just like the feel of a sword was, and a spear, and a shield. All things he trained with. Nothing more than muscle memory now.

But that’s not actually what he’s trying to ask. “So how did I—?” He touches the paraglider and glances at Revali. Revali frowns for a second before the question registers.

“I don’t know who taught you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Revali’s gaze strays to the paraglider. “No one did, as far as I’m aware. But you developed a rather… distressing tendency to jump off your horse instead of shooting from horseback. And jumping off cliffs. Dunno what got you doing it.”

Link looks at him out of the corner of his eyes. Another thing he doesn’t remember, but this time he can retrace his own thought process. He’d never seen anyone shoot like the Rito, and certainly not like Revali. Of course he would have tried for himself.

“At least now you’re not breaking your legs every time you shoot an arrow,” Revali says, nodding at the paraglider. A challenge issued for a fight they never got to have. Link looks back at the castle. It’s been five days. Five days he didn’t spend on horseback or in his house in Hateno, waiting for Purah and the princess to fix the Sheikah Slate. Five more days in the castle for the princess. It shouldn’t matter, compared to the century she already spent there. She might not even remember tomorrow. It still eats at him.

The night air steadily grows colder and Link crawls into his bedroll before long. It’s a clear night, the light from the stars and the beam coming from Vah Medoh illuminating the otherwise dark spire. Revali’s spirit is a bright spot next to him. He thinks he shouldn’t feel sleepy, but he is. He’s already dozing off when Revali speaks again.

“If it does happen again,” he says, “just, come tell me, okay?”

Link wakes up above Rito Village.

“I’m not in the inn?” he mutters, blinking against the morning sun. He’s most certainly still on Medoh’s spire. The sun was never this bright down in the village.

“With the way you were rolling around, I’m as surprised as you are.” Revali fades into view, wings crossed. “You slept like the dead too, completely missed the Blood Moon.”

Ah. Link struggles out of his bedroll and sits down on top of it, cross-legged. So that confirms it. The Calamity does need to be defeated. At least Hyrule isn’t meant to suffer its terror forever. At least the princess won’t be trapped for all eternity.

At least, he thinks, feeling rather hysterical about it all, he won’t need to suffer through any court politics ever again.

“So, you’re going to fight it?” Revali asks. He’s not looking at Link, but at the castle instead. It’s just as swathed in Malice as it was yesterday and every day before it. Link nods reluctantly, unable to meet his eyes. He fears Revali will see straight through him and realize exactly what needs to happen. What Link needs to do.

He really doesn’t want to die. Not like this, not so pointlessly, when he knows he and the princess can defeat the Calamity. When they’ve done so four times already. But if it’s for the sake of Hyrule, doesn’t that make it worth it? This is what they signed up for all those years ago. 

(Was he ever even given the choice?)

“Do you have any clue what’s causing this?” Revali asks, voice a bit too strained to be entirely nonchalant. Link shrugs. The Goddess, probably. Or some of the ancient forces that govern Hyrule and whose names have been long lost to time. The princess would know better than him.

“It might be interesting to find out,” Revali says. He sounds uncharacteristically hesitant. Link looks up at him, but he’s not meeting Link’s eyes. “You know, for future reference. In case it happens again.”

There’s something he’s not saying, but Link can’t figure it out. It doesn’t sit quite right with him, but he’s not above taking the excuse to travel around Hyrule just a little bit longer. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Revali glances at him and looks away again. His feathers puff up in agitation.

Link shakes his head. “Might be good,” he says. Revali huffs.

“Of course. You might as well be prepared for next time. Start with that bard of ours.” 

There very well might not be a next time, not for Link. But he doesn’t tell Revali that. And he’s not wrong. Short of the princess, Kass is the best person in all of Hyrule to ask.

“Traveling through time?” Kass echoes. Link has interrupted his singing session with his daughters, and the girls are more than happy to take the break and run off into the village. Kass had made a futile attempt at keeping them close while he talked to Link, but had been too late to stop them. Link will need to catch some salmon to apologize to him and Amali later on.

He gets to have a later on. It’s not what he expected waking up.

“There are stories of heroes moving back and forth in time, but the details are mostly lost to us.” Kass sighs. “I fear my knowledge isn’t sufficient. You must understand, even the stories we have of the Sheikah and the champions who came before ours —” he glances up at Medoh. Link does too and resists the urge to wave, “— are unspeakably old. Much is lost or warped beyond recognition.”

Link nods, frowning. He sort of expected it, but he’d still hoped to learn more. 

“Why do you ask?” 

“I wondered. About the powers of the Goddess.”

“Ah.” Kass casts a knowing look in the direction of the castle. He is probably the only person in all of Rito who realizes that Link is the champion from a hundred years ago and not merely his own descendant. “It’s noble of you, Link, though I fear ultimately futile. Once the Calamity has been slain, Hyrule will need to recover in its own time.”

That is… Not what Link had in mind, but it’s as good an excuse as any.

“As for the Goddess, she is said to bestow her power to her Chosen Ones at the springs in the east of Hyrule. I believe you have been there.”

Link nods. He remembers the princess wondering if the springs weren’t meant for him instead of her. He doesn’t think so, but they might be worth a visit anyway.

His supply of Ancient Arrows has largely run out, so he heads to Robbie’s lab first and gets himself some new ones before heading to the Spring of Power. There he stands in the water in front of the Goddess statue, feeling faintly ridiculous and remembering the princess’ frustration and despair all those years ago. Should he pray to the Goddess as she did? Ask her why he is sent to fight the Calamity over and over again?

He has nothing to show for his visit but wet clothes, but he does find a Korok when he pushes a nearby rock off a hill. He tries pointing it out to Revali over the winds of Gale.

“— rok.”

Revali looks at the Korok. He smirks. “That’s a leaf.”

“No—“ 

But his rebuttal is lost when Gale peters out. Link lands, takes a running leap and launches into Gale again.

“A Korok,” he tells Revali, eyebrows furrowed. Revali shakes his head.

“I heard you. You said rock.”

That’s when Gale loses strength again and Link has to wait for it to recharge. He can only muster the barest minimum of annoyance about it. He’ll let Revali have this one. 

He spends a day or two in Tarrey Town before setting out to Mount Lanayru. It’s freezing in the Spring of Wisdom and the icy water he’s standing in doesn’t help matters, even with his Snowquill set. He suddenly remembers going up the mountain with the princess wearing her ceremonial dress, the way she shivered in the ice-cold water even despite the elixir she’d drunk, desperate for something to happen. He remembers how he had to pull her out in the end, because she looked minutes away from keeling over. How she didn’t look at him the entire time they went back down the mountain and to Lanayru Road, where the champions were waiting for them. 

It was the last time he saw any of them alive.

Link grits his teeth and steps out of the water. Well. Standing here in front of the Goddess statue did something, alright. But of all the things he wished he could recall more vividly, that day really wasn’t one of them.

The storm goes down when he descends the mountain, aimlessly trailing the same path he and the princess took a century ago. Across the bay, he can make out the giant form of Vah Ruta. He stares at it. Out here, there’s no one to stop him from doing whatever he wants. He forgot that in this past month. It scares him just how easily he fell back into following the princess around.

Vah Ruta’s little lake is perfectly placid. Below is Zora’s Domain, sparkling in the late-afternoon sunlight. Last time he was there, it was to hand Mipha’s Lightscale Trident back to Sidon and King Dorephan. But now the Lightscale Trident is safely tucked away in the Sheikah Slate and Mipha—

“Link, it is so very good to see you.”

Link lets out a relieved breath and smiles up at her. Of all the champions, he sees Mipha the least. That’s a good thing — the number of times he’s been on the verge of death has dramatically decreased the more he relearned and the more of Hyrule he explored — but it means he only gets to see her when he comes to Vah Ruta. He missed her. He missed the calm she exudes, the way she can make his head just a little bit clearer just through her presence alone.

“How have you been?” Mipha asks. She sits down next to him, a ghostly presence looking out over Zora’s Domain. Link wants to tell her he’s fine, but she’d probably see right through him. Instead, he rocks his hand in a so-so gesture. Mipha frowns and immediately gestures back: What’s wrong?

Mipha was the one who most easily picked up the gestures he uses to communicate. Since many of them are based on the signs the Zora use underwater, that’s not exactly a surprise. It means that in her presence, he can skip the words sometimes.

He debates what to tell her. He still doesn’t want to tell her about the loops; her concern would be too much to bear. Frustrated, he stands up and moves to the other edge of the plateau, towards the castle. Mipha follows him. She makes a soft sound of recognition.

“You were quite jittery when we last met. Are you feeling better now?”

Again, Link makes the same so-so gesture. When they last met face-to-face, the day before he first fought the Calamity, he had been afraid of what to expect. What if the Calamity was much stronger than even they had assumed and he couldn’t beat it? But he now knows that he can beat it. His worries have taken on a very different shape.

“We will be here to support you throughout the fight,” Mipha says. “And after too, for as long as we can.”

Link freezes. There isn’t any after, for Mipha or for any of them.  Mipha immediately notices something’s wrong. She reaches out a ghostly hand towards him. “Link, you mustn’t worry for our sakes. We were happy to fight the Calamity, no matter what happened.” She pulls her hands back to her chest. “I was happy to fight by your side, however little time we got to spend together.”

She might be, but it cuts like a knife for Link. He thought losing the champions would become easier over time. He now knows it won’t. 

“I’ll miss you,” he mutters. Mipha smiles sadly. She sits down again and pats the spot next to her.

“That’s okay too. But you mustn’t hesitate. All I ask is that you do not forget us.”

As if he ever could. Link carefully folds himself down next to her and together they stare at the castle. It’s like no matter which corner of Hyrule he ends up in, he always ends up staring at it.

“I missed you too, and the princess,” Mipha says softly. “I was... asleep for such a long time. When I saw the world outside again, my home didn’t look the same anymore. Everything had changed so much. I didn’t know… I didn’t know if you or the princess were still alive. If anyone else was.”

Link doesn’t know exactly what happened after they witnessed the Calamity’s appearance at Lanayru East Gate, but Mipha must have been the first champion to reach her Divine Beast. She must have been the first casualty in Ganon’s bid to take over. Before Link freed Vah Ruta from the influence of Waterblight Ganon, she didn’t know who had survived. She didn’t know none of the champions made it out alive.

“I hope the princess is doing well,” Mipha whispers. Link doesn’t think he was supposed to hear. The guilt eats away at his gut again. He is leaving her behind, isn’t he? But she doesn’t know. And he isn’t ready. He doesn’t want to lose this, the sight of Hyrule beneath his feet, his friends still nearby. He wraps his arms around his knees and buries his head against them. Mipha makes a worried noise.

“Link, are you sure you’re okay?” she asks. He shakes his head. He can’t see what Mipha is doing but he can vividly picture the concern written all over her face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks. He shakes his head again. He can’t, not without telling her about everything that’s happened. He’s already had to do so once and barely got through it. He can’t do it a second time, let alone a third and a fourth. 

“Can you look at me, Link?” Mipha says softly. Link tries. He lifts his head and finds that the look on her face is exactly the way he imagined it. 

“Do you want to stay here for a bit?” Mipha asks. He nods. Yes, just for a bit longer. For as long as he can.

Of all the springs, Link likes the Spring of Courage best. He doesn’t get any surprising flashes of insight or divine messages here either, but at least the water is an excellent temperature for swimming and he doesn’t have to live in fear of his clothes freezing to his skin. He listens to the sound of approaching Lizalfos, eyes the tree cover above him and grins, crouching down into the water and letting Gale carry him through the leaves. He meets Revali’s eyes and points.

“Rock.”

Revali grins back. “Rock.”

Link gives him a satisfied nod before Gale peters out and he’s left floating above the wilderness surrounding the Dracozu River. Faron’s got a bunch of temples he’s been wanting to visit.

Time slips away from him, the way it often used to when he spent days in the wilderness without encountering a single living soul. He travels through the Faron jungle all the way to Lurelin Village and spends a couple days tagging along with some fishermen out on the ocean. When he returns, several pounds of fish richer, he loops back across Necluda and past the Great Plateau towards the Gerudo Desert. He avoids Hateno Village and Kakariko Village. He’s seen enough of them to last him several more months.

Vah Naboris is a monument almost as visible as Vah Medoh is. When he appears on the plateau, he finds Urbosa with her back turned towards him, eyes on the castle. She glances over her shoulder when he steps up and nods at him.

“I admit, I’m surprised to find you here,” she says. Link can’t figure out the tone of her voice. He hums noncommittally. 

“I was led to believe that you had come to a decision last time we spoke,” Urbosa continues. Link flinches. She notices.

“Far be it from me to decide your strategy for you,” she says, “Hyrule is a beautiful place, that much is certain. I imagine the princess would enjoy seeing it too.”

Link doesn’t reply. Urbosa turns away from the castle and looks down at him. Link tries to meet her stern gaze head-on, but finds himself wavering. No justification will hold up in the face of Urbosa’s anger. Worse, she’s right.

“I do hope you make up your mind soon. Zelda has been waiting for you for far too long.”

Death Mountain doesn’t suffer from constant sand storms, but Link much prefers the Gerudo desert heat to the molten lava. The Flamebreaker armor is excellent protection, but it isn’t the most comfortable of outfits. It’s worth it when he appears on top of the volcano next to Vah Rudania, though.

“Looks like I’ve got a little lost Hylian traveler here!” Daruk greets him with a wide grin. Link laughs and raises the vizor on his helmet. Daruk claps him on his shoulder, an invisible touch Link would like to imagine he can feel.

“Can’t blame me when you need to cover up like that, buddy. Gotta show your face more,” Daruk says, as if any other Hylian would ever dare to approach the hulking form of Vah Rudania. Link grins at him and lowers the vizor again — the volcanic heat really is quite unbearable without the armor.

“So, been seeing the land?” Daruk asks with none of the judgment Link feared after Urbosa. “Seen anything interesting?”

Link tells him about the fishermen in Lurelin and the fight they had with a Lizalfos that had strayed very far into the ocean. Daruk laughs loud enough to startle a nearby lizard. 

“And all that for a couple fish! You gotta eat some rock roast for me when you get to Goron City, promise?”

Link grins and nods. It’s far from the worst thing he’s ever eaten.

“How’s that little grandchild of mine doing?” Daruk continues. “You should bring him here some day!”

Yunobo has always seemed intimidated at the thought of meeting Daruk, but he thinks that might actually break Daruk’s heart, so Link doesn’t tell him. He does tell him how Yunobo has grown more confident since they calmed Vah Rudania, even if he’ll probably never be the kind of warrior Daruk was.

“Ah, wouldn’t want him to be either,” Daruk says with a wry twist to his mouth. “Bad enough that he has to deal with these monsters. I’d rather he grow up without having to fight anything.”

Unbidden, Link’s eyes stray towards the castle, stark against the steadily darkening sky. He’s the one standing in the way of that future. Daruk sighs deeply.

“I sure would’ve liked to show him some of those places you’ve been talking about,” he says. “Hey, once you defeat that thing, you should take the little princess on a tour. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.” 

Link is very glad Daruk can’t see his expression through the Flamebreaker helmet. “What do you want to see?” he asks. The champions’ gifts don’t last long, but by using them, he can give the champions a little glimpse of the world away from their Divine Beasts.

“No need to worry about me, bud,” Daruk says. Something of Link’s thoughts must show in his body language, because Daruk shakes his head and smiles. “Really, don’t. What’s important is you getting out of this okay, got it? We’re here to help you, so don’t you mind us. You’re what matters most.”

Link bites his lip, thankfully still unseen. He thinks of Urbosa’s anger. Somehow, Daruk’s gentle encouragement is far worse.

He doesn’t really expect to find anything in the Forgotten Temple. It may be the oldest temple in all of Hyrule with one of the most imposing Goddess statues Link has ever encountered, but it’s really just an excuse to shoot at the many Guardians cooped up in there. They must have been here even before Ganon sent out Guardians all across Hyrule. He wonders just how long they’ve been here and who or what they were supposed to protect. 

But that knowledge is long lost, like so many things about the Hyrule of ten thousand years ago. If only they’d known more about it, then the Calamity wouldn’t have had such an easy time taking over their every defense. 

Link emerges from the Forgotten Temple just in time to see Dinraal flying up overhead. He considers using Gale to snatch up a dragon part, but it’s too high up and he still has plenty of them. The dragons have never cared about his presence even when he’s shooting at them, but he’s not eager to find out what might change that.

Seeing Dinraal does remind him of Revali, though, so with nothing pressing to do he warps to the shrine in Rito Village and sets out to climb the spire that holds Vah Medoh.

“Hmm, I suppose you haven’t actually gotten worse,” Revali tells him when he makes it to the top. Link grins at him. Medoh’s spire is always a challenge, but he’s climbed to the top of far higher places. He sits himself down next to one of Medoh’s massive legs and takes out the wood and flint to start a fire.

“Not underneath my Divine Beast, you reprobate,” Revali hisses at him when he prepares to start the fire. “Do you know what kind of stains smoke leaves?”

To the ancient war machine that was buried underneath snow and ice for millennia? Link squints up at it and snorts. He’s pretty sure it’ll be fine.

Still, he obediently moves the bundle of wood a few meters to the right and shields the starting fire from the winds with his own body. Once he gets it going, he settles in to spend the night. The last few days have been stormy, but this promises to be another clear night. He looks at Revali and gestures at the fire. Revali sighs, put-upon, but he does settle down on the other side of it, so Link counts it as a win.

“So, Forgotten Temple?” Revali asks. “Anything?”

Link shakes his head, staking a salmon to roast it. Nothing in the Forgotten Temple, nor any of the springs, nor the labyrinths or the ancient Zonai monuments all around Hyrule. After the Spring of Courage, he hadn’t truly expected to find anything or come up with any great revelations, but Hyrule is so big and there is always so much to see that he didn’t mind.

If he thought trekking across Hyrule would help him come to terms with his own fate, he was sorely mistaken. Urbosa’s words still sting, and he has left the princess trapped in the castle for far too long now, but every part of him balks at sacrificing himself to a being he knows he can defeat.

He doesn’t tell Revali that. He hasn’t told anyone that.

“How about the Temple of Time?” Revali asks. Link shrugs and turns his fish around before one side of it is reduced to charcoal.

“Nothing either?”

“Haven’t been.” 

Revali makes a sound of profound disbelief. “It’s called the Temple of Time and you didn’t think it was a place worth visiting?”

Link makes a face. It’s not like Revali suggested it either and he’s seen just about everywhere Link went. He pulls his salmon back, pokes at it and holds it back over the fire. The Temple of Time is just another of the many ruins that litter Hyrule now. There’s no reason to believe it would be any different from all the other ones.

“The king was there,” he mutters. 

“The princess’ father?” Revali asks. Link nods and Revali’s expression turns into one of genuine dislike, not the mock version he likes to put on in Link’s presence. Link is briefly gratified that he can tell the difference. 

“He was there, when I woke up,” he says. “He had the paraglider.”

“What? How’d he get it?” Revali gets up and turns around sharply, wings fluttering. “What gave him—“

What gave him the right? Link’s wondered himself. At the time, he hadn’t remembered the paraglider, but he’d known he wanted it. He puts down his fish, now just about ready to eat, and spreads out the paraglider across his lap. Revali turns back and sits down abruptly.

“I got it back,” Link says, meeting Revali’s eyes. It’s important he gets that point across. The anger in Revali’s eyes fades into reluctant amusement.

“Yeah, you did.” 

Link stands up, taking the paraglider with him. He crouches down and grins at Revali before launching into Gale.

“Hey, wait—!”

He unfolds the paraglider and lets himself be carried by the updraft. Unlike before, Revali doesn’t fade when he reaches the gale’s highest point, but remains flying next to him. 

“I hate you sometimes,” Revali grouses. Link is already floating down; he manoeuvres himself over his campfire to remain in the air just a little bit longer.

“You don’t.” 

Revali scoffs but doesn’t deny it. Instead he flaps his wings, gaining enough height that Link has to look up.

“You should be a kestrel, the way you’re always hovering around,” he says. Link snorts and steers the paraglider out of the hot air column to prove him wrong, swerving around Medoh’s neck before landing onto the spire again. Revali follows and lands.

“Still soaring,” he says, tilting his head, a playful glint in his eyes. Link gestures at him.

“No wings, remember?” he tells Revali. Revali spreads his wings to show them off. Were he alive, Link thinks, the feathers would have caught the last rays of the sunset.

“A tragedy you shall have to endure,” he says. Link smiles at the ground and picks up his fish again. It is now cold from the Hebra air but perfectly edible. 

“I’ll just have to keep soaring.”

“Yes,” Revali says, and his eyes are fond when Link meets them. “See that you do.”

He does head to the Great Plateau, just so he can safely say he’s visited every single one of Hyrule’s old temples and shrines. As long as he stays clear of the Eastern Abbey and its Guardians, he can easily dodge most monsters here. Even the Guardians are no longer a challenge, but the Sheikah Slate is overflowing with Guardian parts and he feels no need to add any more. 

A couple of Bokoblins almost notice him but a few tossed apples are sufficient distraction for him to pass by unharmed. Perhaps he’ll spend another few nights with them. Watching them fight over whatever food he can pull out of the slate is always a fun way to kill a few hours and they’re surprisingly cute when they sleep.

The king is nowhere in sight when he approaches the Temple of Time. Revali would be disappointed. He does feel… strange, entering the temple here and walking up to the massive Goddess Statue. He can’t remember how many times he prayed in front of one of these statues just so he could become stronger, but this statue here in the Temple of Time? This was the first one he prayed to after waking up. This is the temple where he learned of his failure a century ago. Here he first got an inkling of the gargantuan task that lay ahead of him. 

He rubs a hand across his face. It has definitely been over a month since he woke up in the Swallow’s Roost, probably closer to two. He has visited every place he can think of and he’s none the wiser. Or rather, nothing has emerged to disprove his original theory. 

He steps away from the statue and the earth quakes beneath his feet.

The explosion that follows has him falling back, ears ringing. He frantically launches himself into Gale as the quakes continue and meets Revali’s wide, panicked eyes when they crest the roof of the temple. 

The castle is gone.

Where it used to be, a swirling column of malice rises up, intertwining with the golden light of the princess’ power; they coalesce into a horrifying mass that sends Link reeling at the sight. Time slows down as they float over the temple, then speeds up again when Vah Naboris’ laser cuts past, heating the air above the Plateau and buffeting him with its power. 

“Go!” Revali shouts as he disappears. Link lands on the roof of the temple just in time to see Vah Ruta’s attack impact where the castle used to be. His hands are trembling; he opens the slate but can’t select the shrine under the castle or the portal point he made so he needs another place — any place as long as he’s in time to save the princess. If he hadn’t waited so long—

He warps onto Central Tower to complete chaos. Hyrule Field has been reduced to a disaster scene, and the Dark Beast is currently struggling against the princess’ power. The princess, who is barely visible from where he’s standing, swathed in the light of the Goddess. The princess is fighting the Calamity. She is fighting the Calamity on her own and she will fall to it if he doesn’t reach her in time—

Vah Rudania’s attack collides with the Beast, followed seconds later by Vah Medoh’s. Link throws himself off the tower and flies towards the princess, hoping, praying that his indecision hasn’t cost her her life and the future of Hyrule. 

He needn’t have bothered. The Bow of Light is in the princess’ hands when he lands and she launches a single arrow right into the monster’s forehead before Link can even unsheathe the Master Sword. She rises up, her power glowing bright enough that Link has to shield his eyes, and seals the Calamity once more. 

Without him. Without the sword meant to seal the Darkness. The princess has obliterated the Calamity and it can’t have been more than ten minutes since he first felt the earth shake.

As soon as her feet touch the ground, the princess collapses. Link rushes forward, heart in his throat. She can’t be dead, this can’t be the thing that kills her when she tried so hard and when Link was more concerned about his own life than hers. 

He falls to his knees next to her, trying to get out apologies faster than he can pronounce them, using his hands because he has nothing else to fall back on — but the princess is awake and crying, struggling up so she can grab his arm.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she’s saying between sobs, over and over again. “I knew, I’m sorry, I know you’re angry with me but I just couldn’t do it anymore, it was too long and even if it’s just a few days, I needed to get away from the castle but I couldn’t put you through this fight again!” She gasps for breath. Link stares at her, feeling like he’s been hit by one of the Divine Beasts. She can’t mean—?

The princess forces herself upright. She clutches at both his arms, tears flowing freely over her cheeks. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, but please. Please.” Her green eyes bore into his. “Link, do you remember me?”

Chapter Text

The first time she wakes up in the castle again, she thinks nothing of it. She’s imagined defeating the Calamity hundreds of times since she locked herself in here. She’s imagined Link coming for her even more. So when she spends five days away from the castle trying to get a grip on the shambles of Hyrule and her own life, only to wake up scrambling to get the Calamity under control before it escapes her grasp, Zelda merely mourns the dream she had and resolves to keep waiting until Link is strong enough. 

The moment comes sooner than she expected. Mere hours after she found herself waking up from her dream, Link attacks the Calamity. Years ago — more than a century ago — her mother told her about the prophetic dreams she had, and how Zelda would get the same dreams once she grew into her powers. Zelda only ever had one, right before the Calamity struck, and after the Calamity, any prophecies she could have received had already come true in the most disastrous way. But she thinks, perhaps, this was one of them: a genuine dream wherein she saw the defeat of the Calamity play out.

Link performs admirably, as she always knew he would, but he doesn’t seem to know her. She had known this when she ordered the Sheikah to take him to the Shrine of Resurrection. The technology was ancient and unknown, and bringing Link there was a last-ditch effort to preserve his life. She’s watched him cross Hyrule from afar, flashes and glimpses she could spare between the endless struggle to keep the Calamity contained. She knows how far he’s come and how hard he’s worked to regain the skills that seemed to come so easily to him a century ago.

But the memories they shared? Those are lost. Oh, he remembers some things. He knows who she is and even remembers some of the things they did together, but he is withdrawn, reluctant to talk to her and almost afraid in her presence. He mourns the champions with a grief that far surpasses Zelda’s own, and the guilt about it eats her up. She had years to come to terms with their sudden loss. She watched Link free their Divine Beasts and go back to them, over and over again. So she mourns along with him and resolves to honor their memories as soon as she can. As soon as she has resumed her place on the throne of Hyrule.

A throne on a pile of rubble. 

Her father is dead. When her mother died, Zelda spent all her time trying to unlock the powers the Goddess should have granted her. She knows all the rituals and the history of how their kingdom came to be, but she has never led a country. That side of her training was supposed to come after, once she had grown into her powers. Who does she have left to rely on? Link, who is so dear to her but can’t even call her by name. Impa, who has grown old and away from her, who has a family of her own and a community to lead. Purah, when they make it to Hateno. 

Out of everyone, the sight of Purah is easiest to stomach. Purah has always been Purah, so brilliant and strange that her being a six-year-old comes as no surprise at all. Had someone told her one morning, a hundred years ago, that Purah had turned herself into a child again, she would have thought it a normal part of her day.

The road ahead of them is terrifying, so she latches onto the Sheikah Slate. Here is a project that will tide her over until she can gather her thoughts. Here is something that will help her when she has to assume the throne. Guiltily, she thinks that with her father gone, there is no one to stop her from indulging in her interest in the ancient technology.

Link certainly doesn’t stop her. He encourages her in his own quiet way and seems, if not happy, at least content to tag along with her to the shrines she never got to investigate before the Calamity struck. She thinks they can become friends again, if given enough time.

And then it happens again. 

Then she goes to sleep on the fifth day and wakes up back in the castle, struggling furiously to get the Calamity back under control. Then Link arrives again, mere hours later, and fights off the Calamity. She is trapped and she has trapped Link along with her. 

For who but the Goddess Herself could cause this sort of thing? She barely has a handle on her own powers. Her mother never told her about things like this, but her mother never got the chance to tell her much of anything. She is furious, abruptly, at the dozens of Zeldas who came before her and mastered their powers effortlessly. Who had guidance and support and never had to fight off the Calamity at all.

The Sheikah Slate goes from a passion project to a desperate mission, a way to break this cycle she’s trapped them in. She thinks she understands it when she learns that the cores they need disappear in the wake of Ganon’s defeat, as if the Malice destroyed them in one final act of spite. This is why she keeps waking up in the castle. This is why Link has to fight the Calamity over and over again.

The one saving grace would have been if Link at least didn’t remember, but of course she can’t even be that lucky. He doesn’t tell her and shies away from every attempt she makes to bring it up, but it slowly becomes clear to her that he’s trapped in the same cycle she is. He knows too much, seems to read her mind in a way he couldn’t the first time she lived through this (and in hindsight it was never a prophecy at all). He predicts his horse will get hurt and takes steps to prevent it. After they meet Purah for the first time, he goes out of his way to collect the parts she’ll need for the slate. The fourth time he defeats Ganon, he might as well have taken Purah’s checklist along. It should be a good thing. She has no way to tell him what she needs before he comes to the castle. If Link knows, at least she isn’t alone.

But he doesn’t tell her. He doesn’t tell her anything and he keeps withdrawing further and further into himself. Is he so angry at her that even the thought of staying in her presence becomes too much to bear?

He’d have a right to. 

Mipha is what breaks her. Rather, the sight of her statue, still remembered and still beloved by her people. Zelda thinks of Mipha in those last moments, just before the Calamity struck and she lost everyone. How she tried to help Zelda even then, when she herself didn’t even believe she would ever master this thing she was supposed to be destined for. The Spring of Wisdom had been her final hope, at the time. Even that hadn’t been enough.

So the night before she knows she’ll wake up in the castle again, she sobs against Link’s shoulder and hopes and hopes that she was right and that the fully functional Sheikah Slate is enough to break this accursed cycle she’s trapped them in.

It isn’t. 

She cries when she finds herself back in the castle. Her power has grown in these little intervals away, through actual sleep and people to talk to. It makes wrestling the Calamity back under control easier, but it also makes reappearing here all the worse. She tightens her stranglehold on the monster and waits for Link to come again, as he always will. 

But he doesn’t come. 

There’s a brief moment on the first day when he appears at the Castle Sanctum as he usually does, but instead of fighting Ganon, he abruptly retreats. He doesn’t come back that day, nor on the second, or the third. On the fifth day, the day they've yet to get past, she wonders if she will be sent back in time -- and whether she would even notice the difference. The distraction costs her: Ganon's power spikes, and she is too late to clamp down on it before the Blood Moon rises on Hyrule once again. No more. The next time she notices the Malice stir, she forces it down ruthlessly.

Link still doesn’t come.

He has a right not to; he must be furious with her and she wants to give him all the time he needs. Sometimes, when she has the energy to spare, she catches glimpses of him. In Faron, in Lanayru, in Hebra quite often. It’s fine. He deserves the freedom he so clearly craves. She’s been holding him back: it’s because she couldn’t unlock her powers that he nearly died in the first place. He’s right to blame her.

If she could take this burden from him… She’s stronger now than she was before this all began. She feels the flow of her power and she knows how Ganon fights from all the times she’s seen Link face him. Perhaps she doesn’t need to drag Link into this at all. If she fails… If she fails and sets the Calamity free on Hyrule again… But Link will still be there. He will finish what she started, the way he always has.

So one day, exactly sixty-three days after she went to sleep in Zora’s Domain and woke up in the castle, when Ganon’s power is at its lowest and Zelda can’t bear it anymore, she turns every ounce of her strength on the Calamity. The force of the Goddess’ power obliterates the castle. She barely notices Urbosa’s attack and Mipha’s, and Daruk’s and Revali’s soon after, focused as she is. She needs to finish this, she’s so tired, she just needs to get out.

And when she seals the Calamity and collapses, Link is there. Of course he came. He’ll always come. She meets his horrified eyes and apologizes in all the ways she can — Maybe he’ll never forgive her, but she has to ask, she has to know.

“Please, Link, do you remember me?”

And Link, Link who fought so hard all this time, who almost died for her and still found it within himself to come back, finally nods.

“I didn’t think you—“ he says, just fragments of a sentence. His hands flutter; his eyes are still so wide and so horrified. “Just me,” he continues. “Thought it was just me.”

“You didn’t know?” she asks. Link shakes his head. Zelda tightens her hands on his arms. “Oh Link, I thought you knew, I— Aren’t you angry?” 

No, he shakes, and then asks, eyes falling to the ground: “Aren’t you?”

“No, never! I’m so sorry, Link, I dragged you into this. If it weren’t for me—“

“Not you,” Link disagrees vehemently. He has his hands clenched now. “Me, my fault.”

“No!” It isn’t his, she knows that as surely as she knew he would come for her. This is clearly the Goddess’ doing, which means it’s hers. “It’s not your fault, Link, I swear. I’m sorry I led you to believe that.” She unclenches her hands but still can’t manage to let go. She’s still crying, tears dripping on her ruined dress. Link takes a few deep breaths before he manages to look her in the eyes again.

“Then, not your fault either.” He swallows and makes a frustrated noise. “If it’s not my fault—“

“Then it isn’t mine either,” Zelda finishes. Slowly, she lets her hands fall away. Oh, she doesn’t believe it. But if saying it will help Link forgive himself…

She finally manages to tear her eyes away from him and look at the damage she’s wrought. They’re in Hyrule Field, not too far from Central Tower, but the copses of trees that used to hide Castle Town from view are gone, torn out by the roots and scattered across the field.

The castle is gone too. 

The last time she entered the castle, it was a century ago and she remembers little of it, driven as she was to get to the Calamity before it could wreak even more damage than it already had. She knows Ganon had already destroyed parts of it, and that even more of it crumbled under the influence of time and the many monsters that had taken up residence inside. When Link fought the Calamity, the damage was substantial but never enough to bring the entire castle down.

Now it’s gone. The place she grew up in, brought to the ground by her own hands.

It takes her several long minutes to gather enough strength to stand up. She’s exhausted herself in this final burst of power, and her legs tremble when she pushes herself upright. Link is there to support her right away.

“People will come,” he observes. There used to be a time when she took his few quiet words and short sentences as a lack of intelligence: just another one of the many soldiers who laughed at her work, who thought that they could take on the Calamity with just a sword and shield. She learned better. He’s smart: an excellent strategist and creative thinker. But words are hard for him, he once told her. They do not appear to have gotten any easier in the months since he woke up.

Still, she thinks she understands his meaning now: people will have questions about the destruction of the castle. Soon enough, some of them will venture near and inevitably find them. Does she still want to be here when they do?

She most certainly doesn’t. “We should move,” she says. Link nods, looking relieved.

“Kakariko Village?” he asks. Zelda shakes her head. No, she does not want to hear about the state of Hyrule again. She’s already heard it multiple times over. Impa has done excellent work in her absence, but the sheer number of maps and missives she manages to produce is overwhelming. Now more than ever, she will want to talk to Zelda. Now more than ever, Zelda absolutely doesn’t want to.

“The slate?” Link asks. “I collected—“ he gestures at the remains of a Guardian, miraculously spared from the destruction she wrought on Hyrule Field. Yes, going to Hateno and getting Purah to upgrade the slate would be the logical decision to make. But they already know that the slate won’t set them free. She has no desire to continue running herself ragged.

“No, I—“ She looks off to the distance, her back to the castle. Is it Vah Naboris she can see to the south? “I’d prefer a quiet place. If you feel up for it, Link, I think we should talk.”

Link is the one to suggest the Great Plateau. That’s where he was when she attacked Ganon, she gathers, though he is reluctant to talk about it. No horses have magically appeared for them, but Link assures her that the Master Cycle can carry two passengers. After summoning it, he spends a few seconds crouched down, and comes away with a distinctly queer expression on his face.

The Great Plateau as she remembers it was sacred ground, and apart from a few priests and acolytes of Hylia, it was always devoid of people. The only person to reside there in the last century is the one now sitting in front of her and driving the Master Cycle. The great walls that once surrounded it have fallen into disrepair, but even from a distance it still stands out in the mostly flat lands of Central Hyrule. The Master Cycle is faster than she expected it to be. She clings to Link as he expertly navigates them over hills and through copses of trees, utterly ignoring the roads of Hyrule. 

They reach the Plateau walls in just two hours, far faster than Zelda imagined they would. Link dismounts and helps her off the Master Cycle, then promptly unsummons it. Storing a Divine Beast in the Sheikah Slate. Was that also possible with the other Divine Beasts? Could they have carried them along, to be deployed when the time called for it?

So many possibilities, so many regrets. Link nudges her shoulder and hands her the Sheikah Slate.

“Oman Au.” He points up, where the glow of a shrine is barely visible. “You should go. I will climb.”

The walls of the Great Plateau were once meant to hold back entire armies, but Link does not look concerned about their height. She trusts him; if he says he can make it, he can. 

“I shall wait for you at the shrine,” she says, opening the map with the same little thrill she always gets using the Sheikah Slate. It truly is an amazing piece of technology and she is so grateful to Link for unlocking it beyond what they were capable of.

Link frowns. “Perhaps go inside?” He bites his lip. “Not sure about the monsters.”

Ah yes. She would have felt insulted: surely the power that felled Ganon could handle a few Bokoblins. But she’s utterly drained of power — she doesn’t even know if she can take on a Keese right now. Besides, getting to see the shrines from the inside has been the highlight of this very long and repetitive month.

“Should I try it, you think? What’s in there?” she asks brightly. Link frowns again.

“Magnesis. The rune. But I think there’s a Guardian there, a scout.”

Ah, that’s too bad. “Is it safe to go inside?”

“Yes. Just stay in the entrance.”

She can do that. Zelda finds the Oman Au shrine on the map. No option to take both her and Link there, not this time around.

“Be careful,” she tells him. He nods and gives her a thumbs-up as she warps up to the Great Plateau. She steps off the dais of the shrine and carefully navigates her way to the edge. The height of the Plateau has always been dizzying. Far below, she spots Link, hesitating in front of the wall.

“Is everything okay?” she shouts down. Link looks up at her and waves, following it up with an okay sign she has to squint to see from this distance. He tugs on his gloves and finds a foothold to start climbing.

He’ll be fine, so Zelda walks back towards the shrine and onto the moving platform. Oman Au opens up into a large room with metal plates on the floor. Hmm. A Guardian Scout, Link had said. She doesn’t know exactly what those are, aside from dangerous. But he hadn’t seemed overly worried. If it’s too much, she’ll turn back. 

It still thrills her, using the Sheikah Slate and the runes Link found for it. She moves the first metal plate, tosses it against a wall for the sheer joy of it, and then drags away the second one as well. The controls take some getting used to; she nearly drops the second plate on her own head instead of safely next to her where she’d intended it to be. But the plates have revealed a hole in the floor and a ladder she can climb down. 

She walks carefully, watchful for the Guardian that could be around every corner. The next part of the shrine is yet another empty room, no Guardian, scout or otherwise. But there is a massive wall with a conspicuous metal cube inside.

The shrines must always have been training grounds for the users of the Sheikah Slate. The architecture is too neat and the rooms too carefully designed to be anything but. These are remnants of a civilization lost millennia ago, perfectly preserved in time. If only she had time, then she could finally figure out what secrets were lost to them and bring them back to the light.

She pulls out the cube with ease. Then she ducks behind the wall, heart hammering. That is a Guardian, all right. She peers back around the wall. It is a lot smaller than the regular Guardians that chased them down to Fort Hateno. Years ago, the sight of it would have made her ecstatic. Now she shivers. But it is small and its reaction time is much slower than that of the regular Guardians. So maybe...

She is no close-up fighter, but her tutors did insist on her learning how to shoot a bow. Her powers are depleted and the Bow of Light is far beyond her, but Link has an eclectic collection of bows gathered in the Sheikah Slate, including the Royal Bows she was taught to shoot with. It still feels the same in her hand. She fires a few arrows just to test the grip before stepping back carefully until she has the Guardian in sight. 

Her first arrow goes wild; one tiny Guardian Scout makes for a much smaller target than Dark Beast Ganon was. She hisses and ducks for cover as the Scout twirls around with a confused beeping noise. She has to wait until the beeping trails off before darting out again. Her next arrow hits the bulk of its body and pushes it several meters back, far enough for Zelda to follow up with a second shot that also hits. It’s enough. The Scout explodes in a mess of parts. Part of her feels bad about that. She would have liked to study it.

Carefully, she ducks through the hole in the wall and picks up the spring that remains. It’s smooth sailing from that point onwards. She pulls open the massive metal doors guarding the very last room of the shrine and approaches the empty pedestal. There used to be a Sheikah Monk here, Link told her, but all of the monks passed on once their shrine was completed. So there is nothing left for her to do but go back to the entrance. 

It’s much later than she expected it to be and Link is already there waiting for her, sitting on the dais with his paraglider in hand. He looks up when she reappears. 

“Scout?” he asks. Zelda smiles.

“I beat it!”

Link smiles back faintly and goes back to staring at his paraglider. He looks troubled. Zelda folds herself down next to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Link hums. He takes the Sheikah Slate when she offers it and tucks it back onto his belt. “Champions. I can’t reach them.”

“Oh.” Her sadness is a low, shimmering thing. She truly does wish she could meet them again. “Have they moved on already?”

Link shakes his head. “They’re still here,” he puts a hand to his chest, “but I can’t call them.”

Zelda bites her lip. She never quite understood the connection Link had with the Champions, only that there was some connection and he could feel when they left this world. Now it looks to be more than that. “What do you mean?” she asks carefully.

Link stands up and takes a couple of steps away from the shrine. “Their gifts. You know,” he gestures vaguely. “Revali’s flying and Mipha’s healing. Daruk’s shields.”

“Urbosa’s lightning,” she adds. Yes, she remembers vividly, the gifts the champions cultivated through their special abilities and hard work. Link nods.

“They gave them. I could use them.”

“And now you can’t?”

Link shakes his head. “Thought they had to recover first. But I tried, just now. It doesn’t work.” He takes out his sword and spins it around in a violent attack that cuts down the reeds near the pond, but has no further effect. “They’re still there. They’re just not answering .”

Frustration is palpable in his voice. Honestly, he sounds like he’s about to cry. Zelda hurries towards him, past the little pond that sits next to the shrine.

“Did that ever happen before?” she asks. Link sheathes his sword again and shakes his head.

“They were there during the fight. Never tried afterwards until they—“

Until they were already gone. Zelda wishes she knew what to say and how to console him, but it has always been a foregone conclusion that the champions would move on once the Calamity was defeated. Quite frankly, she’s surprised they even managed to hold on this long. She had expected their souls to fade away upon the Calamity’s demise.

Link kicks aimlessly at a rock in his path, hands moving with no real meaning. Zelda looks up at the sky. It must have been five, six hours at most since she defeated the Calamity, and the sun is still high in the sky. The shrine did her good and she feels calmer than she did a few hours ago. Link, on the other hand, is more agitated than ever. They’re waiting for a foregone conclusion.

“Shall we find a place to rest?” she offers. Link clenches his hands, shoulders tense. Then he lets out a visible breath and nods. 

The Temple of Time is an obvious landmark on the Great Plateau, even though it too has lost most of its former splendor. Link doesn’t take her there. Instead he goes south, into the forest that covers this side of the Great Plateau. She remembers the Shrine of Resurrection on the other side. She imagines that’s another conversation Link doesn’t want to have right now.

It starts raining when they’re in the forest, a soft spring rain that nevertheless makes the trees heavy with water. She gratefully accepts Link’s cape when he offers it. Link himself doesn’t look bothered by the rain at all. 

The terrain here is too rough for the Master Cycle to navigate with a passenger, so they walk until they find a rocky overhang that keeps them sheltered from the rain. Link starts a fire with his sword. He’s jittery when the sun sets and getting more so with every passing minute. He has tried to call upon the champions a few more times, each time without result.

But it only happens after the rain has stopped and both of them have eaten. Link is aimlessly poking at the fire when he freezes up, dropping the stick and grabbing at his chest. Zelda reaches out to him, but he shakes his head, curling in on himself. It’s the fifth time now that he’s suffering through the loss of the champions, and it seems to hit him just as hard as the first. He stays curled up there for a long time. Zelda watches and wishes she knew what to say.

“They’re gone,” Link announces tonelessly a few minutes later. Zelda swallows and nods. 

“I’m sorry.”

“May Hylia embrace them,” Link quotes with a laugh that sounds more like a sob. He picks up the stick he’d been poking into the fire and twists it between his fingers. “… It was different.”

“Different how?”

He doesn’t look at her. “Not… Usually it’s all at once.”

“And now it wasn’t?”

Link shakes his head. “Urbosa first, and Mipha. Then Daruk, then Revali.”

Zelda frowns. There’s no reason for it to be different than it was any other time. The Champions have always moved on a few hours after Ganon’s defeat. She would even dare say that it was just about the same number of hours every time. But it’s been at least half a day, not the few hours she’s come to expect. So what’s different now?

“They didn’t fire at the same time,” Link mumbles.

“Sorry?”

“The cannons of the Divine Beasts. They didn’t fire them at the same time.”

Zelda had vaguely registered their lack of coordination -- so unlike the other iterations of this cycle -- but the fight was so chaotic, and she was so caught up in the effort of subduing Ganon, that she can't quite recall the details now. “Was it the same order?” she asks. Link nods.

So it’s not Ganon’s defeat that makes the champions finally find their well-deserved rest, but their Divine Beasts? That strikes Zelda as wrong somehow. Like she’s missing something. 

Link breaks his stick with a sharp crack and tosses both halves away. Zelda stares at the dark shapes of the trees in the forest, thoughts faraway. She wonders.

What if the champions never fired their cannons at all?

The next day dawns grey and drizzly. Zelda wakes up feeling chilled even despite the bedroll Link lent her. Link is already awake. He’s wearing the heavier Rito clothing and seems unbothered by the early-morning cold, poking at the fire to get it going again. He offers a quick smile when he notices she’s awake.

“Good morning,” she whispers, grabbing her borrowed cloak and putting it on. Link nods and turns back to the fire. He gives a satisfied hum as the damp wood catches fire, waving the smoke away. He prepares breakfast while Zelda retreats out of sight to finally take off her ruined dress and properly replace it with Link’s Hylian traveler’s clothes. The fabric is much coarser than the fine riding outfit Impa still has in her possession, but it is a momentous relief compared to the dress she’s been wearing for over a century. She eyes the dress. Impa might be able to save it, but Impa isn’t here and anyway, she’ll end up wearing it again in another few days. So she balls it up and unceremoniously tosses it onto a nearby rock. Let the monsters have their fun with it.

She rakes a hand through her hair, wincing as it gets stuck on the many many tangles that formed. She might just have to chop it off one day. 

“Do you have a tie?” she asks Link when she reemerges and takes her spot at the fire. She gestures at her hair and Link quickly fishes a length of string out of his pocket. She manages to pull her hair into a braid with clumsy movements. It’s been years since she did this and even before, she usually had someone to help her. 

They’re eating when a flash of red catches her attention. She straightens up, immediately on guard, and nudges Link. Link’s hand goes to his sword, eyes narrowing at the rustling of the bushes.

It’s a Bokoblin. Its movements are carefully measured as it circles the little clearing where they’ve set up their fire.

Zelda scoots backwards against the rock. Link can take it, she knows. Even she could probably take it — she’s feeling a lot better than she did yesterday. But the monsters are still an unknown force and it’s the first time she’s seeing one from this close. It’s the first time Link has ever allowed one to get this close to her. She glances at Link, waiting for him to attack, but Link chuckles and lets go of his sword.

“Link?” she whispers. Link hushes her and fishes out an apple, which he tosses at the Bokoblin. The Bokoblin snatches it up. Zelda had hoped that that would be enough for it to disappear again, but no such luck. It hesitates, clawed fingers bruising the apple. Then it once more slopes closer. 

“Ah?” Link watches the creature with great interest. He scoots back a little, gesturing for Zelda to do the same. She doesn’t understand — It’s not attacking them, but it’s still a monster. What if there are more of them?

The Bokoblin darts forward and throws the apple into the fire. Then, quick as a flash, it disappears behind the bushes again. She can only just make out its glittering blue eyes fixed on the fire.  Link makes a noise of understanding and chuckles again. He grabs a stick and pushes the apple around in the fire until the skin starts flaking off and a sweet aroma fills the air. Then he takes it out and tosses it in the direction of the Bokoblin. The Bokoblin darts out again, grabs the baked apple with a happy little chirp and disappears as quickly as it came.

“Link?” Zelda asks again. Link, still looking amused, pokes at the fire some more.

“They like apples,” he says, as if that explains everything. He takes pity on her when he spots her confused expression and continues: “They’re not really dangerous.”

“Really?” 

“No more Malice.” Link shrugs. 

“All of them?”

“Dunno about Lynels,” he says, and shudders, “but Bokoblins are fine. They’re fun.” 

He’s smiling, Zelda realizes. He looks relaxed again. She wonders how much time he spent studying the monsters of Hyrule to come to this conclusion and how she or anyone else could ever have thought he’d make a good knight. No, he was a good knight. One of the best. She just can’t believe she ever thought he was happy to be one.

When they pack up, Link tosses another few apples in the fire and takes them out right before he extinguishes it. As soon as they leave, Zelda hears the Bokoblin scampering back to their campsite to grab its treat. Link smiles when they walk off. The little Bokoblin follows them until they reach the very edge of the forest, where it stops with a sad chirp that makes even Zelda laugh. Link throws it a final few apples when they pass the tree line. 

 His good mood does fade into something more melancholic when they close in on the Temple of Time. They have been wandering without any real goal in mind, and the Temple of Time seems as good a place as any. It hurts to see it up close, just like it hurt to see any of the places she used to know before the Calamity struck. The great walls have crumbled under the Guardians’ attacks, the windows smashed. Even a place like this couldn’t withstand the damage Ganon did.

“I was here,” Link says when they walk up to the stairs that lead to the entrance. “Yesterday, when you—“ He gestures behind him, at the ruins of what was once her home. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Link laughs self-deprecatingly. “Temple of Time, right? So we figured…”

Yes, that would make sense. She doesn’t ask if he found any answers. If he had, he would have already shared them with her. Perhaps it will be different for her, she thinks without hope when they walk up the steps that would have once led to a lushly decorated interior. It has been over a century since she last prayed. Now that she has unlocked her powers, maybe the Goddess will finally listen to her.

The temple bears traces of monsters, but unlike their one curious Bokoblin, they scamper away at the sight of them. Zelda crosses the crumbling floor and steps up to the massive statue of the Goddess, Her blank face staring out across the temple.

“Goddess Hylia, I beg for your guidance,” she begins, lowering the cape on her borrowed cloak. The ancient formulae she’s learned don’t come easy to her anymore, not when she doesn’t truly believe that this time will be any different than before. Not when she only has one thought on her mind.

I finally did as was expected of me. Will You still not speak to me?

But the Goddess’ stone face remains as impassive as ever. Unbidden, her thoughts wander to the Champions. Would they have survived if she had been able to contain the Calamity when she first arrived at the castle? Mipha, dear Mipha who must have already been fighting the Blight the Calamity sent when she and Link made it back. Could anything have prevented her demise? She remembers going to sleep in Hateno, the first time Link defeated the Calamity. She remembers how she wished so desperately for a chance to all be together again. If only… 

The Goddess does not speak to her. It’s an old hurt that she’s long ago come to terms with. When she turns away from the statue, Link is staring at the ceiling, shoulders slumped. She tentatively touches his shoulder.

“Everything okay?”

Link hums. “Just thinking,” he says, but there’s a deep sadness in his eyes that she’s become far too accustomed to seeing. He shakes his head and walks towards the exit. 

They are no longer alone when they step outside the temple.

Zelda doesn’t recognize him at first. He wears the clothes her father used to wear, but the man in front of her looks uncertain, nothing like the stern, towering figure her father always used to be. He is swathed in green light, a mirage from a time long ago. She has mourned him. She did not expect to see him.

“… Father,” she whispers. Next to her, Link stiffens and squares his shoulders. He doesn’t bow like he used to.

“My daughter,” her father says. Even his booming voice has softened. “I am so glad to see you safe and sound.”

“It is good to see you, father,” she says in a small voice. Link does not share the sentiment.

“You’re still here,” he mutters. It sounds like a question and an accusation all at once. Her father sighs, eyes only for her. 

“You have fought so hard. I could not leave until I was sure you were all right. I have missed you terribly all these years, my child.” He steps forward, arms coming up as if to hug her. Zelda freezes up in confusion and the next moment, Link is there, blocking her father’s —remarkably solid— arm. Even Link looks momentarily surprised. Her father chuckles, but it sounds defeated to Zelda’s ears.

“Ah, young Link, I should thank you for bringing my child here. I hope that paraglider has been of use to you.”

Link actually bares his teeth. Zelda touches his shoulder, but he doesn’t relax.

“I do apologize for taking it,” her father says. “I could not risk you running off to the castle straight away, you know. Not when you remembered so very little.”

It does little to calm Link’s anger. Zelda squeezes his shoulder and walks out from behind the cover he provided her. Instantly, she is her father’s sole focus again. 

“The Calamity has been defeated,” she tells him. For now, at least. For another three days. Her father shakes his head.

“You performed admirably, as I knew you would,” he says. Zelda nods. 

“I mastered the powers granted to me, as you wished.”

Her father sags, once more the picture of defeat and nothing at all like the proud man she remembers. “Ah, Zelda,” he says. For a moment, he looks lost for words. “I am proud of you, so proud. But I was a fool. I should not have…” He shakes his head. “I thought I was doing right by the kingdom but all I did was drive my daughter away. I didn’t listen and I made you unhappy. I am sorry, Zelda.  I love you so very much and I only caused you pain.”

Tears well up in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers, looking down. She can’t say it’s okay, not when he’s right. When the hurt still lingers even after all these years. But she missed her father. She missed everyone during those interminable years in the castle, but often she thought of her father, of the way he would play with her in the castle when she was much younger and the Calamity was not yet a threat. How he would take her up to the Castle Sanctum that became her prison for so many years. “Father, if I had been faster—“

“Please, none of that,” her father says. Even Link shakes his head. “I am happy I got to see you one final time. Zelda—”

“I missed you, father,” she says, eyes burning with tears. When she steps forward into his embrace, her father feels cool to the touch but his arms are as solid as she remembers. It has been years and years since she last saw her father and even longer since he hugged her. She cries, then, for those years taken from them.

“Go,” he tells her, one hand stroking the top of her head. “You have the rest of your life ahead of you, my child. And even if you can never forgive this foolish old man, please, never doubt that I love you.”

They do not talk until long after her father has disappeared from sight. Zelda has no desire to stay in the Temple of Time, so they walk back the way they came from. She has long wished to see her father again and talk to him. Now that it’s happened, she feels sad and relieved, and sad to be relieved. 

Link’s silence, on the other hand, feels almost petulant.

She doesn’t notice until the enter the Forest of Spirits again and Link kicks a rock with enough force to send a nearby fox fleeing in a flurry of panicked yips.

“Link?” she asks. 

“He was there,” Link says darkly, glancing at her and then back at the ground. 

“I— Yes,” Zelda says. Yes, and even though it came as a shock, she was happy for it. Even if she got to see no one else, she at least got to see her father one more time. Link’s open anger is a surprise to her. He was always so expressionless before. Did he always dislike her father this much?

“They weren’t,” Link continues. He follows it up with four signs: Medoh, Ruta, Rudania, Naboris. The Divine Beasts, as always doing double duty for the names of their champions. And no, they weren’t there. Her father waited to make sure she was okay, Zelda wants to say. But that doesn’t sound right. Because why wouldn’t the champions want to make sure they were okay? Why wouldn’t Urbosa, who always looked out for her? Why wouldn’t Mipha, who was always there with advice?

“They must have found peace, knowing that the Calamity has been defeated,” Zelda says, but the explanation doesn’t sit right with her and it certainly doesn’t sit right with Link. He shakes his head.

“Even before. They didn’t leave right away, but they didn’t come when I tried calling.”

The connection between Link and the champions must have gone both ways. So for them not to show up — and she still doesn’t truly know what that looks like — when Link tried to call on them yesterday… No, it doesn’t make sense. Something had tied them to their Divine Beasts, that much became clear when Link felt them disappear in the order they had fired their cannons. Perhaps they couldn’t stray so far from their Divine Beasts? But what changed, when it sounds like they could before? 

She may be the reincarnation of the Goddess Hylia, latest in a very long line of her namesakes spanning all the way back since before the appearance of Calamity Ganon ten thousand years ago, but Zelda has only ever been spiritually inclined because it was expected of her. Standing in front of the many statues of the Goddess, she has always felt hollow, like an actress putting on a play. Perhaps that is why praying was never any use to her. 

So she doesn’t know what keeps a spirit tethered to this existence and what, in turn, would make it move on. She doesn't know how or why her father could forgo passing on until he knew she was safe, when Urbosa would certainly have wanted to know the same. “I don’t know,” she says, feeling wretched about it. The question haunts her and she has no good answer for Link. Link shakes his head. 

“I don’t understand why—” he tells her. His mouth twists into something ugly and he falls silent. Zelda knows he’s asking the same question she is. Why her father and not the champions? Is it because her father was never tied to a Divine Beast? But shouldn’t that make him move on faster?

It puts a damper on what was already an exhausting day. A silent Link sets up camp in the Forest of Spirits again. She doesn’t know where she wants to go tomorrow, only that she isn’t ready to leave the Great Plateau yet. Someday soon, they’ll have to make plans for what they’ll do next time. 

Their little Bokoblin doesn’t show up again. Zelda finds herself hoping that it’s okay.

When praying to the Goddess didn’t work, her one refuge had always been the ancient Sheikah technology she helped unearth but never got to learn all the secrets of. So when they wake up the next day, Zelda asks to see the Shrine of Resurrection. Even if she learns nothing new, it will at least put her mind at ease. 

Link doesn’t protest, though his mood is still far bleaker than it was yesterday morning. Zelda tries to keep a conversation going when they walk up the slope that leads to the Shrine of Resurrection.

“Did you talk to them often?” she asks. Link nods and smiles again. It transforms his face; she’s come to dread his stillness when she knows he can be so expressive even without words.

“Did you… Did you tell them that we keep repeating this fight?” she asks. She doesn’t know which answer she prefers. It would be good for Link to talk to someone, but what does it mean if he told the champions but not her?

Link hesitates, then nods, looking almost embarrassed. 

“Revali,” he says, following it up with Vah Medoh’s name sign.

“Revali?” Zelda echoes. She has a hard time keeping the surprise out of her voice. “Only Revali?”

Link nods. It’s not the first time he has mentioned getting along with the Rito Champion, but Zelda never expected him to be the first person Link would go to. Why not Mipha, who would be infinitely more understanding? Revali never made any secret of his dislike for Link. To her great shame, she had thought him something of a kindred spirit when they first met, back when Link represented all the chains tying her to her position. She quickly learned better, but Revali never changed. 

At least, she didn’t think he did, but Link speaks of him with open fondness. Perhaps spending a century trapped in Vah Medoh was enough to change Revali’s mind as well?

“What did he say?”

“He said to wait five days. See if it repeated. It didn’t.”

Two months isn’t five days, Zelda doesn’t say. She tries very hard not to begrudge Link his travels, not when he clearly enjoys them so much. 

“That’s why I was in the Temple of Time,” Link continues, unprompted. “I went to all the springs, and the temples. We wanted to find answers.”

When Link mentioned before that he’d talked to someone about the Temple of Time, Zelda had assumed it to be Mipha or Daruk. “Did you find anything?” she asks. It doesn’t come as a surprise when Link shakes his head. They enter the Shrine of Resurrection and Link helps her down the ledge blocking it from view. Finding it had been a fortuitous coincidence all those years ago. Figuring out what it did and how they could use it even more so.

The shrine still looks much like it did a century ago. There is a Korok floating over the bed now. Link shoos it away so she can study it.

“Aside from the memory loss,” she asks, and that still stings, knowing that Link might never fully remember all the places they saw together before the Calamity struck, “did you experience any side-effects?” 

Link frowns, clearly cataloguing everything he felt upon waking up.

“I wasn’t as strong,” he says slowly. “Less stamina too. I had to relearn it.”

So some physical deterioration. That’s only to be expected after a century of not moving at all. She remembers soldiers who lost their strength after breaking a limb and had to work months to regain it. Compared to what Link went through, that seems pitiful and the fact that he could still walk, let alone fight, is a testament to the shrine’s power.

Purah once wondered what would happen if she combined her own power with it. Zelda wonders too. Would it have helped Link?

She takes a couple steps back and studies the massive bulbous overhang. It reminds her of the main terminals on the Divine Beasts. Since the Shrine apparently housed Link’s Master Cycle, perhaps that isn’t too much of a surprise. 

“May I have the Sheikah Slate?” she asks. Link unhooks it from his belt and hands it over. The pedestal that housed the Slate when they found it is still right there. She wonders if she can unlock anything new about it.

But Link grabs her hand when she tries to place it on the pedestal. 

“Wait, Your High—“ 

Zelda’s mood plummets. She should have known he didn’t really mean it last time, nor any of the other times she asked him to call her by name. Link is the only friend she still has left in this time. If even he only sees her as the princess, then what hope does she have?

But Link chuckles and shakes his head. When she opens her mouth to once more ask him to please call her by name, he beats her to it.

“Zelda. Zelda, sorry.”

Unlike every single time before, he doesn’t avert his eyes. She thinks that perhaps, this time he actually means it. 

“Thank you,” she says. She can’t suppress her smile and doesn’t even try to. Link is still holding her wrist and carefully tugs it away from the pedestal.

“The Divine Beast chambers are underneath. If you put the slate there, you’ll go down.”

“Oh.” That is a damper on her plans. “Is it very dangerous?”

“Scouts,” Link says, and when he spots the expression she can’t help but make, “More dangerous than in Oman Au.”

Zelda frowns, feeling a little bit like she’s had a long-awaited present taken from her. Her powers have been slowly recovering. If she beat Ganon with them, wouldn’t that be enough to defeat some scouts?

But Link looks too worried at the prospect so she reluctantly steps away from the pedestal. Instead, she goes through the slate until she finds the unlocked map of the hidden rooms underneath the Shrine of Resurrection. They never could have anticipated these being here. The place is huge, taking up a large part of the Great Plateau. Now more than ever, she wonders about the function of the Plateau. If the shrines were clearly built for a new user of the Sheikah Slate, then was the entire Plateau built around the Divine Beast it hid? The legends only ever spoke of four Divine Beasts. Could there be even more? And what secrets do the Beasts themselves still hold?

She loses herself in the Sheikah Slate and the shrine. Even without access to the parts underneath, there is still plenty left to explore here. Maybe she should bring Purah here next time, after they fix the Slate. There’s still so much they never knew about. She very gently sends a pulse of her own power into the overhanging structure and watches as it lights up like a beacon. She ought to test this, but she’s not about to ask Link to injure himself just so she can test if her power increases the efficacy of the shrine. 

Link wanders off during her research and somewhere near sunset, she finds him sitting on the ledge outside the Shrine, overlooking Hyrule. The view is beautiful here. He looks up when she joins him.

“Everything all right?”

Link nods. From here, she can spot the ruins of what remains of the castle, fully razed to the ground. She can also spot Vah Ruta. It still looks like she remembers it. Nothing to indicate that its Champion is already gone. She opens the map on the Sheikah Slate.  The access points of each Divine Beast are still available. They will remain available until tomorrow. 

Speaking of which.

She frowns down at the map. If the champions disappearing followed the order in which they fired the cannons of their Divine Beasts, would that order also transfer to the Divine Beasts themselves deactivating? She can find out. 

“Could we go to the Tower tomorrow?” she asks Link. She shows him the map. “There’s something I want to check.”

Link’s face falls at the sight of the still-active beacons, but he readily agrees when she explains. She’s having the first inklings of an idea. She hopes she’s right.

They spend the night at the shrine. The morning brings a problem with it: without the fully-unlocked Slate, only one of them can warp to the Great Plateau Tower. Link, though, finds them a solution. He summons the Master Cycle, and waves Zelda down the slope, testing whether it will stay summoned even if the Sheikah Slate isn't nearby. Thankfully, it does, so Zelda warps to the Tower, and Link mounts the Master Cycle and follows after. He should make it in time.

She never caught the exact moment when they went offline during the previous loops. The first time, it was a blow they never expected; the others, she had been occupied working on the slate with Purah, and missed the moment when they went dormant. But she does, at least, have some idea of when it might happen. The travel gates have always gone offline before the final day of this cycle.

If it's always the third day after Ganon's defeat, after the Champions fired the Divine Beasts' cannons, then she should be able to watch for it today.

From here, she can see all Divine Beasts, although Vah Rudania is only barely visible through the scope of the Sheikah Slate. She can also easily follow Link’s trajectory across the Plateau. He reaches the tower and starts climbing not even an hour after they left the Shrine, and he reaches the top just a little while later. 

They wait, on edge, as the hour nears the time when she fought Ganon. Finally, around mid-morning, Link gasps and points at Vah Naboris. Before their eyes, Urbosa’s Divine Beast lowers its long neck. Urbosa, always looking out for her, even when she did something so unexpected that everyone was taken by surprise. 

When she turns around, Vah Ruta has lowered its trunk; less than a minute later, Vah Rudania also drops off the slate. For a moment she fears the Divine Beast will lose its grip on Death Mountain, but it stays where it is, clinging to the edge of the crater. Finally, Vah Medoh’s massive head goes down as well. In less than two minutes, all of the Divine Beasts have gone dormant, and their travel gates have gone offline.

But it wasn’t simultaneously. Her suspicion was right; the Champions moved on in the order that they fired the cannons of their Divine Beasts. And the Divine Beasts themselves deactivated in that same order.

It might be nothing. Or it might be the key to breaking these loops.

“Link,” she says slowly, “do you think we can test this?”

Zelda has proven that she can fight the Calamity by herself, but it leaves her utterly exhausted and with her powers completely depleted. She isn’t willing to let Link fight it without the support of the Divine Beasts when they do not have a backup plan yet. But, Link says, if one of them fired just a little bit later, he would be fine. He’s certain he can convince the Champions of that too.

They have less than two days left before Link will be back in Rito Village and Zelda will find herself back in the castle. It’s also far longer than they’ve ever gone without seeing any other people. Impa must be worried sick by now, or perhaps she believes that both Zelda and Link perished in the fight against the Calamity. It’s not too late to visit Kakariko Village or Hateno Village, but Zelda does not want to give up the quiet of the Great Plateau. Impa won’t remember any of it in another two days anyway. Instead, with a half-formed plan in mind, she and Link spend the rest of the day visiting the shrines around the Plateau. 

Link avoids the weirdly-shaped shrines, but allows her to use the three he indicates. She ends the day a little charred after setting off an ill-timed bomb, but with a far better understanding of the runes in the Sheikah Slate and a desire to use them whenever she can. 

That evening, when they are camped in front of the Shrine of Resurrection, she finds herself just as quiet as Link. She flips through Link’s inventory and the map of Hyrule. How many secrets are hidden inside the Sheikah Slate? How many more can be found across Hyrule? Among the weapons in the Sheikah Slate, she finds Urbosa’s Scimitar of the Seven along with Mipha’s Lightscale Trident and Daruk’s Boulder Breaker. Last time, Link spoke of returning the weapons to their people. She still doesn’t feel up to leaving the Great Plateau, but he doesn’t need her with him for this.

“… Do you still want to go?” she asks, breaking the long silence. Link pauses in the process of preparing their food for the evening. He frowns at her over the flames, a silent question.

“Before,” she says, “I asked you where you would go, if we fixed the Sheikah Slate. You said…”

Link’s eyes widen. He bites his lip, glancing at the Sheikah Slate and back at her, hesitation clear on his face.

“I can probably still call on you if something happens,” Zelda says with a rueful smile. While her powers are nowhere near what they were four days ago, connecting her mind to Link’s should still be possible. She motions at the entrance of the Shrine of Resurrection, with its access point within. “I will stay here, so you know you can return quickly if needed. But this is… something you wanted, Link.”

She holds out the slate to him. She hopes dearly that she got it right, that she didn’t say the wrong thing again inadvertently. It is such a struggle to get to know each other again. She thinks she’s getting better at it. She hopes that one day, they’ll finally have the easy friendship they were working towards when the Calamity arose.

Link accepts the Sheikah Slate from her solemnly “I will return soon,” he promises, and as soon as her portion of dinner is cooked, Link leaves.

With Link gone, the forest sprawling out below her becomes a little too dark and lonely for her comfort. She retreats back into the Shrine of Resurrection, where the Korok has reclaimed its place over the bed and watches her curiously when she spreads out a blanket and sits down. Below her is an entire Divine Beast and without the Sheikah Slate, she has no way to access it. What more is hidden here?

She half-daydreams, half-dozes as the Shrine of Resurrection grows darker, only kept illuminated by the glow of the healing bed Link spent so many years in. One day, when they are free from this loop, she will figure out exactly how it works. So many people get hurt every day. It could be revolutionary.

Link is gone for a long time. At last, he returns shortly before dawn, looking tired and withdrawn. She hopes that this trip has brought him some peace. She fears it didn’t.

“Were you able to return the weapons?” she asks hesitantly. Link merely nods, barely visible in the blue light of the shrine. His hair is loose, and the shadows from it hide what little she might otherwise see of him. He doesn’t say a word, and falls asleep — or pretends to — soon after.

Link sleeps late, only waking up around noon. Today, the final day before she returns to the castle, she starts drilling Link on the parts they need to upgrade the Sheikah Slate. He’s a quick study and still remembers most of them from the last few loops. He promises to get them before fighting the Calamity. In turn, she makes him promise to take his time. She’s seen his state last time, when he forced himself to find all the Guardian parts in one day. It left him worn down and completely exhausted. It’s bad enough that he has to risk his life every time he fights the Calamity. She refuses to make it even worse for him.

Next time, she vows, she won’t bother giving Purah the time to discover how to upgrade the Slate herself. She’ll just explain it herself; she’s sure she can claim some kind of divine insight if Purah presses.

In the afternoon, once Link can rattle off all the parts they need for the Sheikah Slate, he tells her to sleep. She is hesitant at first, but Link’s reasoning is sound: he will wake up in the morning, safe in Rito Village. She, instead, will wake up in the castle, fighting the Calamity for control. She needs all the rest she can get. So she sleeps the rest of the day away, secure in the knowledge that, for a few more hours, at least, she is safe. 

Sunset comes far sooner than Zelda is ready for. She and Link retreat to the Forest of Spirits, where they camped on their first day. Link throws another few apples in the fire with a glance at her.

They don’t have to wait long. The first Bokoblin appears just when the apples are about ready. Zelda has no idea if it’s the same Bokoblin as the one they last saw three days ago, but it is not at all afraid to scurry over to the fire and grab the apple Link pushes towards it. It jumps out of reach as soon as it has its treat, but it doesn’t stray far and is soon joined by a second one. This one is also red, but smaller than the first one and far shyer. Zelda has to toss an apple at it, almost burning her fingers in the process, and even then it hides back in the bushes as soon as it has its apple.

The Bokoblins remain nearby for the rest of the evening, occasionally darting out again to grab the apples Link dutifully bakes for them. They are far more peaceful than Zelda ever expected them to be, and it is a sad reminder that in just a few hours, she will be back to fighting a Calamity that even corrupted these little creatures. She is glad that they live here on the Great Plateau, where they can do very little damage and aren’t at risk of being killed.

She and Link look at each other silently when midnight nears. Link holds out a hand and Zelda takes it, squeezing tightly. The contact helps when she feels herself growing tired, undoubtedly the result of the Goddess’ magic trapping them in this cycle. Link blinks furiously, trying to keep his eyes open. He’s fighting a losing battle. 

“Hey,” she says just before they both fall asleep. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Chapter Text

It has been such a long time since he woke up in Rito Village.

Link presses the palms of his hands against his eyes and listens to the sound of birds waking up. The last five days felt surreal. The last two months felt surreal.

The princess— Zelda knows. She has been caught in the same cycle all this time. He’s not alone. 

He had hoped and feared, in equal measure, that Zelda had broken the loop. Perhaps by defeating the Calamity on her own, she had fulfilled the Goddess’ wish. But Zelda hadn’t believed it to be true, so he hadn’t brought up the possibility, too happy that she didn’t actually blame him.

He presses a hand to his head, feeling out the shape of his earring, back to where it’s always been. Then he rolls over and grabs the Sheikah Slate he’d stashed under the bed next to his boots, approximately three months ago. The weapons he returned are back in the slate; the champions’ gifts are warm in his chest. The scrap of blue fabric, which he’d fastened around his wrist just a day ago, is tied to the Great Eagle Bow again. Everything is back to the way it was.

Nothing feels quite the same again.

He remains in bed until Cecili comes around to offer breakfast. There is no need to rush. He can spend however long he needs on gathering the cores they need to upgrade the Sheikah Slate. But he thinks Zelda wouldn’t be particularly happy if he wasted another two months, so he gets dressed and takes the familiar jump down from the Landing towards Rito Stable. 

The same traveler is there again, chased down this time by two red Moblins. Link takes out his bow in mid-air, but hesitates. As soon as he and Zelda defeat the Calamity, these creatures will no longer be under Ganon’s influence. The Bokoblins they’ve seen were peaceful and curious little things, and maybe these Moblins are no different. What a pity to kill them right before they would be freed from the Malice.

He chooses a fire arrow and aims it at the sparse shrubbery next to the Moblins. The wood is dry and catches fire in an instant, startling the Moblins enough that a second fire arrow to the other side is enough to chase them off. He lands and is met once more by the Hylian traveler’s effusive thanks. 

“Are you going after them?” the man asks when Link is tucking away the requisite spicy elixir. Link shrugs, something that clearly doesn’t sit well with the man. 

“What if they attack me again?” he shouts when Link walks away. Link only raises a hand and points towards Rito Village. The Rito archers can help him out if he really is stupid enough to wander into Moblin territory again, and maybe he’ll finally buy a proper set of clothing. 

He takes on Castle Town first, clearing the way for when he inevitably enters the castle. It’s funny, he thinks when the same Guardian nets him the same Ancient Core as all the previous times. Everything goes back to the way it was, except for him and Zelda. It does make his life a lot easier. He doesn’t have to fight every Guardian in his way, just the ones he already knows have the cores he needs. 

Zelda drilled him well on the number of cores they need, but Giant Ancient Cores remain hard to come by. On that first day, he works his way through Castle Town and its surrounding areas, and even briefly enters the castle itself to take on the Guardians nearest to the entrance. He waves up at the Castle Sanctum. He has no idea if Zelda can see him, but he likes to think she can. 

He wanders out further into Hyrule the next day, chasing down Guardians in Akkala and Necluda and Lanayru until he has everything he needs and can retreat to Hateno, cores safely tucked into the slate. He debates bringing them to Purah, but he doesn’t know how the slate should be upgraded and he is too afraid that she’ll waste them. Besides, he has a far more pressing concern.

Rationally, he knows that Urbosa remembers nothing of the previous iteration and has no reason to be angry with him, but he still doesn’t feel comfortable talking to her, knowing that Zelda is still suffering and he still has no real solution. Mipha and Daruk would help him, of course, but communicating with them in the heat of battle isn’t easy. That leaves Revali. Revali who he already told once. Revali who remembers nothing of it.

They’ve seen each other while Link was chasing down Guardians — shooting them from the air is one of Link’s preferred methods. They’ve exchanged words as they often do. But it’s not the same. Link longs for the easy back-and-forth they developed in the last two months, but Revali always seems a beat too late. 

Still, at least he can easily communicate with Revali during battle. So the next day, after a stop to buy clothes for Zelda, he goes back to Rito Village, avoids the Swallow’s Roost like the plague, and begins the climb up to Vah Medoh’s perch.

“Slower than last time,” Revali says when he reaches the top. Link grimaces and pulls himself onto the spire. The castle, swathed in Malice, is a familiar sight. He shields his eyes against the morning sun. 

“Hey,” Revali prods. “What’s up?”

Link clenches his teeth together. He has no desire to repeat this conversation. “I’ve done this already.”

“Done what?”

“This. That.” He gestures between Revali and himself and then at the castle. “Fought Ganon. Five times already.”

Four times, since Zelda made short work of Ganon a week ago, but it’s not a distinction Revali would appreciate.

Revali frowns and clicks his beak, feathers ruffling. “That’s a terrible joke, even for you.”

“No joke.” If only. “We defeat Ganon. Me and Zelda. Then, after five days, I’m back here.”

“Five times,” Revali adds. Link nods. “And the princess…?”

“She knows.”

Revali opens his beak to speak, then shuts it abruptly. He is silent for several long moments. Link stares at the sun rising over Lanayru and wishes this were easier. At least he can still breathe, unlike last time.

“So what are you going to do?”

Link takes a deep breath. “We had an idea. Maybe.” An idea that he doesn’t dare let himself dwell on. “You’ll fire Vah Medoh’s cannon when I fight Ganon.”

“Obviously,” Revali says, scoffing. Like there was ever any doubt that he would. Like there was ever any doubt that he’d stand by Link’s side.

“Can you wait?” 

“Wait?” Revali repeats suspiciously. “Wait for what?”

Link shrugs. “Just… wait. I’ll say when.” 

“And what is that supposed to accomplish?”

Link shrugs again. He knows what he wants it to mean, but saying that out loud feels like tempting fate. He doesn’t want to get Revali’s hopes up. He doesn’t want to get his own hopes up. 

“It’s an idea we had. Defeating Ganon doesn’t work. We just go back. Again.” He tries to breathe through the panic in his chest. His chest, where the champions’ gifts are still settled. Where the aching emptiness will take over in just a few hours. How many more times will he have to endure their loss? “Zelda thought — Last time, something was different. The Divine Beasts didn’t fire at the same time.” 

“And why,”  Revali says, feathers ruffling in annoyance, “would that make even the slightest bit of difference?”

Link puts a hand to his chest, already feeling the phantom void. “You disappear. After the battle.” He gestures with his other hand, from Rudania to Ruta to Naboris. “We thought it was because Ganon was gone, but. Last time. You didn’t fire at the same time, and you didn’t disappear at the same time.”

Revali looks stricken at the mention of them moving on, but he recovers quickly. “Again, why does that matter at all?”

“When you disappear. It’s because of the Divine Beasts, not because of Ganon.”

“And then what?” Revali crosses his wings, practically oozing frustration. “Fine, assume I’ll go along with your plan. So I— So I finally leave this world, what? Two whole minutes later than I would have otherwise?”

“That’s not—”

“I know the princess enjoys her little experiments,” Revali continues, not paying him any heed, “but we are not one of them. And just because you are so terribly eager to go back to playing her loyal little knight doesn’t mean I’m here to indulge you.”

“I’m not!” Revali’s words strike right at the heart of his own fears. It has been terrifyingly easy to follow Zelda around and look to her for a plan. He doesn’t want to be the soldier he used to be. He’s a century removed from that life, and the thought of never being as free again as he’s been in the last year steals the breath out of his lungs.

“Then what? What could you possibly hope to accomplish with this?”

“We could save you!” Link snaps. His throat immediately clogs up; he has to take several deep breaths before he can continue. “If it’s not because of Ganon, if you’re linked to your Divine Beasts,” he sketches out something resembling the gesture for Medoh, “then maybe we can—“

Revali looks stricken. “You do know we’re dead, right?” he says softly. Sadly.

So was Link, several times over, and he’s still here. If there’s a way to keep them, to never have to feel that same ache again, he’ll do whatever he can to get there. “I feel it. When you disappear,” he explains haltingly. “Five times. You’re going to be gone by tomorrow and then you’ll be back in five days and I just want it to stop. ”

Revali wraps his wings around his body. “And you think this will make it stop?”

Maybe, Link gestures. This will not be enough. They will all still be gone by evening. But if perhaps next time, they can find a way to stop them from moving on. If, perhaps, there is a way to bring them back—

He doesn’t know how it’ll work. When he was in the Shrine of Resurrection, he was still alive, if only barely. His soul was still safely ensconced in his body. But Zelda has the power of the Goddess Herself. That has to mean something.

“Fine.” Revali shakes out his wings and folds them back to his side, regaining the mask of Rito Champion. “Fine, if you can stay out of the way.”

“Afraid your aim’s gone bad?” Link teases. It comes out weak, but Revali humors him anyway.

“As if,” he says, spreading his wings and launching himself into the air towards Medoh. “You just make sure your luck holds!”

It has been over two months since he last snuck through the castle and even longer since he last fought Ganon, so admittedly he’s become a little bit rusty. He only barely evades the monsters in the library and loses what used to be an excellent shield when he mistimes parrying a Guardian’s attack. So he’s not in the best of moods when he finally reaches the Castle Sanctum. 

Every time he’s fought the Calamity before, Zelda lost control of it as soon as he entered the Sanctum. This time she doesn’t. He catches a glimpse of the pulsing mass that is Ganon, trapped as it is, before Zelda’s voice reaches him.

Did it work?

“Yes.” Link unsheathes the Master Sword. “You can let go.”

Zelda does, loosening her grip on the struggling Calamity. As soon as she does, Link slashes his sword to send it staggering back straight in the line of fire of Ruta’s, Rudania’s and Naboris’ attacks. Link smiles, grimly satisfied. Revali kept his promise.

He jumps after it when the floor gives out, aiming arrow after arrow to do as much damage as he can before he hits the ground. The difference is immediately obvious. Without the damage of Medoh’s attack, the Calamity is faster and stronger than it ever was before. Combined with the amount of time that has passed since he last fought the Calamity, Link finds himself struggling like he did the first time. 

It gets easier after a little bit, when he’s whittled away enough of its health to slow down its movements. However, he quickly hits another snag. Because telling one champion about their plans doesn’t mean that any of the other champions know about it.

When he uses Urbosa’s Fury on the Calamity for the first time, Urbosa turns to him and says, with a pitying look: “I’m sorry, Link. I did not believe his grudge ran that deep.”

By the time Link parses that, the lightning has already faded and he has to use Fury again just to set the record straight.

“We’ve got a plan!” he tells Urbosa and makes use of the lightning to land several more arrows into the stunned Calamity’s eye. It recovers too soon and seconds later he finds himself ducking in the safety of Daruk’s protection. Daruk, who also looks concerned.

“D’you think he’s alright there—“

“It’s okay, it’s the plan!” Link is quick to say. Fortunately, he’s still nimble enough to avoid the worst of the Calamity’s attacks, so he doesn’t need to reassure Mipha.

Revali is yet another matter.

“Now?” he asks when Link uses Gale to hide in the rafters when Ganon’s attacks go wild. He shakes his head and adds “No,” in case Revali can’t see him. Rito don’t see well in the dark. 

“Now?” he asks again when Link dodges past part of the wall coming down. He shakes his head again, eyes narrowing in concentration as the wind makes the rubble unpredictable. Not yet. It’s still too early. Not enough time has passed. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed.

“Link, now?” Revali asks the next time, and Link is spared from having to answer by one of Ganon’s attacks missing him by a hair’s breadth. The shockwave sends him spiraling into a pillar that is annoyingly still standing and he hisses in pain, crouching out of sight for just a second. He never quite appreciated just how much damage the Divine Beasts did, even though they were unable to take out the Calamity completely. This part of the fight is already dragging out longer than he’s used to. Logically, he knows he needs Medoh’s support. But he can’t yet… He charges back at the Calamity, parrying a blast. It’s too early, he just can’t.

A moment’s inattention costs him dearly. When he turns his back to the Calamity, intending to circle the room and strike it from behind, one of its lasers hits him full between the shoulders. It burns through the Great Eagle Bow and then through him, makes his vision go dark and his ears go deaf to anything around him, too caught in the pain of it, and then even the pain disappears, leaving him with nothing at all—

And then there is Mipha. Mipha, who hovers over where he’s fallen, spreading blessed relief through his entire body. But her eyes, usually so gentle, are furious.

“He’s letting you die,” she spits. Link opens his mouth, trying to correct her, but she is already gone by the time he can muster up the words. He clenches his hand around the Master Sword, dodging the Calamity and charging at it with grim determination. He’s put it off too long. 

He breathes deeply and crouches, launching himself into Gale.

“Can I finally —“ Revali asks, wings fluttering in agitation and Link nods. Swallows and says, “Yes, now.”

He uses the last gusts of wind to steer himself away from the Calamity, and mere moments later Vah Medoh’s attack crashes into the castle. It’s enough to destroy this form of Ganon; he soon finds himself in Hyrule Field, facing down the great Beast that he’s slain four times already. 

Just a little longer, Zelda says when she presents him with the Bow of Light. He grasps it tightly and lets her words of encouragement wash over him. Just a little longer. He mounts his horse, steering it deftly away from the Dark Beast and firing once, twice, thrice at its flank, hitting the targets Zelda manifests with practiced precision. This part of the fight now comes easy to him. Ganon’s first forms are unpredictable and every once in a while, Link even detects a glimmer of intelligence and strategy. But the Dark Beast is utterly mindless, only made dangerous by its massive bulk and vicious attacks.

He makes quick work of its other flank and then sends his horse away. He dodges one attack, then another, each more frantic than the one before. Ganon knows it’s close to defeat. But Link has done this too many times to still be fazed by it. 

He uses Gale for his last attack; lets himself be carried up, meets Revali’s eyes and mutters, “I’ll be there soon,” before landing that final arrow. He glides out of range and lets Zelda finish off the Dark Beast again, which she does with easy grace. Her power truly has grown. 

“Link!” Zelda shouts, running towards him as soon as her feet touch the ground. “Is everything okay?”

He nods and accepts her hug, patting her awkwardly on the back. Physical contact is still weird after going without it for so long. It must be weird for Zelda too, because she lets go quickly and studies him at arms’ length.

“Vah Medoh attacked later. Did it work?” she asks, green eyes fixed on his. Link shrugs. He’ll only know if their theory holds water in a few more hours. 

Zelda nods, probably thinking along the same lines. “And their gifts?” she continues. Link raises a hand to his chest. They’re still there, shimmering warmly near his heart. They won’t be for much longer.

He crouches and tries to summon Gale, but nothing happens. Just like last time. Even though he used Gale barely a minute ago to defeat the Calamity. He shakes his head, unnecessarily, because Zelda can clearly see the problem for herself. She’s watched him throughout the battle. She’s seen him use all of the Champions’ gifts without issue. 

“I’ll go,” Link says. “Ask him.” 

He does not think about not finding Revali with Vah Medoh. Even if he can’t use the Champions’ gifts anymore, he still feels them sitting underneath his breastbone. They can’t be gone yet.

Zelda catches his arm when he takes out the Sheikah Slate. “The others?” she asks urgently. “How did they react?”

Link falters, hands clutching the slate tight. They were so concerned, so angry. They genuinely thought Revali had abandoned them, all because Link hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell them. 

“I tried— During the fight—” But any justification is wholly insufficient. Just a few shouted words can’t replace the explanation they’re owed. 

Zelda’s face falls. “Oh Link… You didn’t tell them?” 

Link shakes his head, miserable in the face of her disappointment. It had felt like too much, going through the same explanation four times. Even talking to Revali, whose reaction he thought he could predict, had been exhausting. Paltry excuses in the face of their distress.

“I could—“ Go now. Try to cram three long-overdue conversations into just a few hours with enough time left to get the answers they need. 

Zelda sighs and turns, staring at Vah Naboris in the distance. “It’s too late now,” she whispers. “Oh, I wish we could use the slate to talk to them.”

It must have been possible once, when the champions of the past had their own slates. Now they only have one left, and the champions are entirely dependent on Link’s willingness to tell them anything.

They’ll forget again. In five days, they won’t remember they have anything to be angry about. He feels like a coward just thinking it, but there’s no time.

Next time. No matter what, he will tell them all next time. 

He warps to Vah Medoh and is met with Revali’s disapproval.

“Beating Ganon is no excuse to be lazy, you know,” he says, fading into view when Link appears on top of the spire. Link is too relieved to see him to point out the obvious: he’s exhausted, they’re on a time limit and he cannot afford wasting time making the climb from Rito Village. So he just raises an eyebrow until Revali relents.

“Fine, I’ll let it slide just this once,” he says. Link tries to find anything different about him, but he still looks the same. So then why—?

“I couldn’t use Gale, after the battle,” Link says. Revali sobers, folding his wings to his sides.

“I know. I felt it,” he says, feathers ruffling. At Link’s questioning look, he continues: “We feel it when you call upon our gifts. But as soon as the battle was over… I felt you calling, but I couldn’t respond.”

Link nods, clenching his hands in his gloves. It’s new information. It could be important. It’s also the first sign that the Champions are about to move on. 

“How’s the princess?” Revali asks in a clear bid to change the subject. Link bites his lip, sitting down in the shadow of Medoh. Zelda took the clothes he got for her, one of his remaining bows and most of his arrow stock before Link came here. She should be on her way to Riverside Stable now, where he’ll meet up with her before they go to Hateno Village.

“She’s fine,” he says, trying not to remember her disappointment. “We’re going to Hateno,” he adds after a moment.

“The Sheikah?” Revali guesses. Link nods. Once more, he finds himself lost for words and Revali, for once, isn’t making up for the lack. What do you say to someone who will be gone in a matter of hours, even if they’ll be back soon anyway? 

“Have you seen the others?” Revali asks. Link shrinks in on himself and wraps his arms around his knees. How much longer until they disappear? He was happy to see Revali here, still around if only for a little bit longer, but it also means that everyone else is still waiting for an explanation that won’t come. Not this time around.

“They don’t know,” he mumbles, bracing himself for Revali’s criticism. Revali, predictably, snorts. Not so predictably, he says: “Yeah, I noticed that.”

Link glances up at him. Revali gestures widely at Medoh. 

“They were sending me messages all throughout the battle. I must say, I expected a larger vote of confidence.”

He says it mockingly, but Link can see the way he pulls into himself, how he must have been genuinely disappointed that the other Champions thought him so petty as to turn his back on Link.

“... I didn’t know you could talk to each other,” Link says, because apologizing feels wholly inadequate. Revali draws himself up again, but one wing remains wrapped around his body. 

“There are communications terminals on each Divine Beast,” he tells Link, tilting his head towards Vah Medoh. “We can’t really talk anymore, but there are things we can send. Standard messages, distress calls, alarm signals… Got a lot of those.”

And he still held off on firing Vah Medoh’s cannon until Link asked him to, even knowing that the other champions would get more angry with each passing second. Link remembers Mipha’s fury all too vividly. He shouldn’t have put any of them through it. If only he’d told them…

“‘m sorry.”

Revali sighs. “What’s done is done. Did you find out what you needed?”

Link shrugs. He doesn’t know yet. He won’t know until the champions are gone. Again. He stares, wordlessly, at the setting sun. His entire body aches from the battle. Even though he was well-rested and well-prepared, the fight has taken him longer than ever before. Medoh’s delayed attack made fighting Ganon so much harder.

Somewhere far below them, in Hyrule Field, Zelda is making her way towards Riverside Stable. Part of Link still protests at letting her travel Hyrule alone, even though she probably has more energy left than him and the country is perfectly safe after Ganon’s demise.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Revali asks, uncharacteristically subdued. He sits down next to Link, staring out at Dueling Peaks in the far distance. 

“I hope. But—“

“Not yet. I know.” Revali glances at Link and looks away again. Link wonders: what is it like for him? Having only Link’s word that this stretch of time will repeat over and over again? Link knows he’ll be back to fight Ganon in another five days. But for Revali, every time feels like the first. Soon, he won’t remember any of this. He’ll move on in just a few hours, never knowing if Link was right or not.

That thought has him clenching the fabric of his trousers and breathing in deeply. It’s going to be fine. They can figure out how to fix this, even if it takes them another ten-twenty-a hundred loops. They have to figure it out.

They sit in silence as the sun sets further. When the moon rises, maybe two hours after he first arrived at Medoh, Link feels the familiar chill creep up on him again. Even the cold winds of Hebra aren’t enough to disguise it. He lets out a hissed breath, clenching his teeth and blinking against tears. There they go again. They must have waited for Link to come until the very end, fruitlessly hoping for an explanation he couldn’t yet give them. What must they have thought of him, when they moved on? How frustrating must it have been? 

Gale remains the sole gift still with him, but it is cold comfort when he knows Revali will be gone very soon. 

“Link?” Revali asks. He sounds resigned, as if he already knows what Link is going to say. Link shakes his head.

“They’re gone, aren’t they?” 

Link nods, not meeting his eyes. Revali makes as if to reach out to him, but like before, he can’t touch. The king could still hug Zelda when they met him last time. The king didn’t expend all his energy saving Hyrule and somehow he gets rewarded for it, while the champions fade away, unable to affect anything. It’s not fair.

“Well, whatever you were trying to accomplish, I suppose it worked,” Revali says with forced levity. He gets up, folding his wings again. “You should get back to the princess. I’m sure she’s eager to find out.”

“Wait—“ Link scrambles to his feet, scrubbing at his face so his tears don’t actually freeze.  “Don’t—“

“It sounds to me like you don’t have any time to waste, so you’d better get to it,” Revali says, talking over him. He turns his back on Link. Link wishes, fervently, that he could grab him and make him look. 

“Revali!” he calls, resisting the urge to stomp his feet. Revali freezes, just for a moment. Then he spreads his wings. 

“There’s no point in watching a dead man fade away, Link. You’ll see me again in a few days.”

And then he launches himself in the air, heedless of Link shouting after him. Link can only watch as he flies up to Medoh and disappears. Only Gale’s lingering warmth tells him that Revali is still around, and even that won’t last much longer.

Zelda arrives at Riverside Stable only minutes before Link does. She has just handed off the horse to the stable owner and is taking in the view from the entrance of the stable when a flash of light alerts her to Link’s appearance on the shrine across the road. He looks frustrated, tucking the Sheikah Slate away with brusque movements as he jumps off the dais. For a moment, Zelda is terrified that they got it wrong: that Revali wasn’t there at all and the champions are forever out of reach. Then Link spots her and gives her a smile, albeit an unconvincing one. He crosses the road and she meets him halfway.

“Is everything all right?” she asks, lowering her voice to a whisper in case anyone passes them. She quite enjoys her anonymity. “Was… Was Revali not there?”

“He was,” Link says, frowning. “He left. After the others—“

He puts a hand on his chest. Zelda bites her lip. So the other champions have already moved on. It’s what she expected. It still hurts, more now than it did the first time they defeated the Calamity.

Still, she’s relieved that Link’s frustration is just the regular kind that comes from interacting with Revali, not the kind that comes from their plans being ruined.

“May Hylia preserve them,” she mutters, a long-standing habit. Link mouths the words along with her, smiling bitterly. He steps away from the road and she follows.

“Is it still there? Revali’s gift?” she asks. Link nods, hand tightening in the fabric of the Rito clothes he hasn’t changed out of yet. She knows this conversation is painful for him, but they have to gather as much information as they can. 

“How much longer, do you think?” she asks. “Did you keep count?”

Link frowns down at the ground, fingers moving rapidly through what Zelda recognizes as numbers. “… Three hours,” he says after a few seconds. Zelda nods. That gives them still a few hours before they can be absolutely sure. 

She’s already pretty sure anyway. It should be a good thing: she’s glad that her theory has proven correct. But Link looks so downcast. Zelda isn’t the one who has to feel the champions disappear over and over again. She doesn’t know how much longer he can stand this. 

“Have you eaten?” she asks in an attempt to distract him. Link shakes his head, so Zelda tugs him along inside the stable and orders food for both of them. Link, contrary to how she’s come to know him, doesn’t eat much. He only pushes around his food on his plate, frustration fading into despondency.

He is silent throughout the rest of the evening. Zelda doesn’t try to pull him into conversation and when he chooses to turn in early, she follows along. She lies silently in her bed, staring at the ceiling, and knows Link is doing the same in the bed next to her. She’s waiting. They both are.

So when Link curls in on himself, a pained noise escaping him, she’s already expecting it. It’s just gone eleven. Exactly when Link said it would happen. 

“Link?” she whispers, just to make sure. Link curls tighter into himself.

“Yeah. He’s gone.”

They leave for Hateno when the sun has only barely risen, both of them too anxious to sleep much. She needs to investigate the Divine Beasts more closely, and for that they need the Sheikah Slate working as it should. It is tempting, so tempting to go to the Divine Beasts while the portals are still active, but she does not dare go about it alone. It is too risky. She does not know what will happen if she dies in an ill thought-out attempt to access the Divine Beasts by herself and she does not care to find out.

Their horses are fresh, and by noon they’ve long made it past Dueling Peaks Stable and to Fort Hateno. No matter when they leave, it seems like they just can’t avoid the fort. The place still makes her restless, jittery in the face of the Guardians that litter Blatchery Plain, but it is objectively the best place to stop: devoid of monsters (even if they are no longer a real threat) and with a convenient cooking spot. 

Link hasn’t said much of anything all day and she hasn’t pushed him, so it is a surprise when he speaks, eyes fixed intently on the meat skewers he’s constructing.

“You really think we can save them?”

Of course, is Zelda’s first instinct, but Link has no use for overconfidence. “I don’t know,” she says instead, “but I truly hope so. And I think that if we have the chance, then we should take it. I wish to study one of the Divine Beasts as soon as possible. If they really are connected to the champions, then they will be able to teach us more.”

Without a Sheikah Slate at hand, the champions learned to connect to their Divine Beasts on a wholly different level, one she’s never seen before or since. They were the only ones able to do so. It stands to reason, she thinks, that some part of their souls is intrinsically tied with the ancient machines. And maybe, just maybe, that gives them a chance. Because if they move on once they fire the cannons of the Divine Beasts, then if they don’t fire, they might not move on at all.

“I hope so too,” Link says, his longing written all over his face. Perhaps this is what the Goddess intended: righting an old wrong. Zelda wouldn’t know. All she wants is to move on with her life with her friends by her side.

Link cheers up the closer they get to Hateno, and by the time they actually enter the village, he’s back to how he was on the Great Plateau: still taciturn, still worried about this situation they find themselves trapped in, but more expressive and not constantly weighed down by what she now recognizes as guilt. She hopes to keep that expression off his face for good.

That thought makes her spur her horse on for the final stretch, and soon they find themselves in front of Purah’s laboratory where Purah’s assistant Symin greets them. She quite likes Symin; he doesn’t have the same instinctive genius Purah has, but his contributions so far have been invaluable and he has made sure that she and Purah don’t lose themselves completely in their research. 

That shouldn’t be an issue this time around. Zelda has no intention of going through the motions when they have so little time to spare.

“Linky! Princess!” Purah shouts, bounding up to them. “Oh, don’t mind how I look! Got myself into a bit of a pinch with some rune experiments, it’ll wear off eventually and then I’ll look just like my little sis!” 

She eyes both Zelda and Link curiously. Zelda cuts her off before she can ask why they’re here and not in Kakariko Village.

“Purah, it is nice to see you,” she says. “I wished to talk to you about the Sheikah Slate.”

Link wordlessly hands her the slate. Purah’s eyes light up.

“Oh? Linky never lets me see it anymore! What do you need?”

“Link has told me that the Sheikah Slate is capable of transporting its user between the various shrines and towers. It is imperative that I ascertain the state of Hyrule myself, and therefore I need the slate to transport several people.”

Purah pushes her glasses up her nose. “Saddling me with the hard projects, aren’t you? Well! I’m sure we can come up with a way!”

Zelda takes a breath. She absolutely does not have time to waste on Purah reinventing the same device she’s already invented once before. “I have had a long time to think. I believe I have some ideas already.”

“While you were in the castle?” Purah asks. Zelda nods. Purah squints up at her and then at Link, who shifts uncomfortably under her focus.

“Well, you’re lucky I like a mystery!” Purah announces, making grabby hands for the Sheikah Slate. Zelda hands it over. “So Princess, what did you have in mind?”

“I imagine that if we can interface with a Guidance Stone…” Zelda lays out the plans she’s memorized over two months ago. Purah tries interrupting a few times, but Zelda does not give her the chance to do so. 

“You truly have been thinking about this very hard,” Purah muses when Zelda finishes laying out their plans. Zelda laughs self-deprecatingly.

“Yes, well, not much to do in the castle. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, I suppose!” Purah stands up on her chair and pokes at the notes Zelda has written down. “Lots of parts we need, though. Robbie might have some, but it will be hard to find everything.”

“Oh! I believe Link already has most of what we need,” Zelda says, opening the inventory on the Sheikah Slate. Purah watches her pull out the right parts and arrange them on the table.

“Well, Linky always did like hoarding stuff in there,” she says with a hum. “You sure didn’t leave much for me to do!”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” says Zelda, who isn’t sorry at all. “You must understand, though. Hyrule has been left languishing without a ruler for a long time. It is important that I understand the issues plaguing the people as soon as possible.”

Purah hums again, far too skeptical for Zelda’s liking. Fortunately, she is quickly distracted by the Guardian parts spread out across the table. She picks up a core and tosses it in the air. Link snatches it out of the air before she can drop it and hands it to Zelda, who carefully cradles it in her hands. The cores are solid and not easily damaged, but they contain so much energy that she does not want to risk it.

“I will tend to the horses,” Link mutters. He turns to leave, but Zelda catches his arm.

“Stay? We might need you to go to Robbie.”

She tries to convey with her eyes just how badly she needs to get the Sheikah Slate working properly, and fortunately, Link understands. He nods and retreats into a corner, waiting until either she or Purah need his help. When Zelda looks back at him several minutes later, he’s toying with a strip of blue fabric, eyes fixed stubbornly on the wall.

They don’t upgrade the Sheikah Slate that evening, nor did Zelda expect them to. Even with all the plans fully laid out, constructing the device and breaking the cipher on the Giant Ancient Cores takes time. But when she and Link walk back to Link’s house late at night, guiding the horses by the reins, she has high hopes that they will manage in time.

“How do we save them?” Link asks when they reach the bottom of the hill and enter the village proper. Zelda glances around, but this late, there’s no risk of them being overheard. 

“I don’t know yet,” she admits. “That is why I wish to study the Divine Beasts. If they are truly connected to the champions, then maybe they can teach us something.”

Link nods, looking deep in thought. Zelda holds out a hand and focuses on the power running through her veins. With each repeat she grows stronger. With each repeat her power is faster to respond to her, eager to do whatever she wants it to. Where the first few times summoning the Bow of Light and sealing the Calamity would completely exhaust her, now she can practically feel her strength coming back. It still isn’t at the level it was before she defeated the Calamity, but she isn’t draining herself dry anymore. Perhaps this is the way to bring them back. Perhaps this way, it will finally serve a worthy purpose.

It is frustrating, knowing exactly what they need to do but having to wait until Link returns from Akkala, study what Robbie created and then send Link back again to make another row of changes. More than once, Zelda is tempted to take the slate and go to Akkala herself, but Purah keeps her busy with a constant stream of questions that she feels uncomfortable answering. Can her power interact with the Sheikah Slate, or the shrines, or any of the Divine Beasts? She has no idea and she is hesitant to find out. She once blew up the entire castle. She has no desire to destroy the Sheikah Slate when they need it most.

By midnight, the device still isn’t finished. Zelda would be tempted to keep working, but Link returns from the latest trip to Akkala with strict instructions to not return until the following morning, which prompts Symin to send them all to bed.

“I wish we could speed this up,” she says when they walk down the path to Hateno Village. Link nods, her own frustration mirrored on his face.

“I could learn,” he says. “For next time. Get it fixed before the fight.”

It’s such a simple solution that Zelda can’t believe she didn’t think of it before. You won’t have enough time, she wants to say, but that’s not true, is it? He can take however much time he needs, as long as Zelda keeps the Calamity in check. A few days, a week, even two months if he feels so inclined to.

“Purah will have questions,” she warns. A curious Purah is a force to be reckoned with and she knows Link doesn’t like spending time with her on the best of days. Link winces, but follows it up with a shrug.

“She won’t remember,” he says. Zelda nods. No, she won’t, and any guilt she might feel about that is overwhelmed by her need to have the Sheikah Slate working as soon as possible. It is by far the best solution they have.

“I’ll teach you,” she says. Tomorrow, or perhaps the day after that if they still have some time remaining. If they have the Sheikah Slate upgraded from the start, they can finally make some actual progress.

Teaching Link about the Sheikah Slate proves to be an exercise in frustration. He’s smart, she knows he’s smart. He never would have been assigned as her personal guard if he were just dumb muscle. But he has no aptitude or interest for the ancient technology that Zelda adores so much. When she tries to explain the mechanisms to him — in-between repeated trips to Akkala — he fails to grasp the very basics of how the Sheikah Slate is built.

You’ve been using this for months, Zelda wants to snap, but Purah is nearby so she doesn’t. Link is clearly as frustrated about it as she is. He’s trying, she can tell, but at this rate she might just need to have him recite the entire setup by heart, even if he doesn’t understand what he’s saying.

“Problem?” Purah asks, passing by their table. Link freezes up. Zelda studiously looks down at her notes.

“Link wanted to know more about the workings of the Sheikah Slate,” she tells Purah. From the corner of her eye, she sees Link nod.

“Is that so?” Purah says, bouncing lightly up and down. “Good! I’ll help! First though, princess, could you come take a look?”

It’s probably time for a break anyway. Link looks even less enthused at the prospect of Purah explaining the Sheikah Slate to him. Zelda follows her back to her workbench where the device to unlock the Sheikah Slate is just about ready. She had hoped to finish it earlier, but it’s already mid-morning.

She gets to see the access points to Vah Naboris, Ruta and Rudania disappear between one look at the map and the next. Vah Medoh remains accessible. She sighs deeply. Purah looks up from where she’s putting the finishing touches to the bowl that will decrypt the Sheikah Slate. 

“Something wrong?”

Zelda waves her off. “Nothing, nothing. I had hoped to visit the Divine Beasts.” 

Purah ducks underneath her arm to look at the map. Of course, she immediately notices the still-active portal point to Vah Medoh. 

“How about there?” she asks, pointing. Link draws up his shoulders.

“It’s sloped,” he bites out, moving his hand in a downwards slash. “It’s no good.”

Ah. That answers a question Zelda was about to ask herself. Yes, from what she’s seen of Vah Medoh, entering the Divine Beast would be a hassle. Purah hums thoughtfully.

“Funny this one’s still active but not the others. You know,” she rests her chin on her hands, leaning forward until Link’s leaning back. “Vah Medoh fired its cannon so much later than the other Divine Beasts. I wonder if it malfunctioned. We really ought to check that out!”

Link shakes his head. “No malfunction,” he says under his breath. Purah catches it anyway. 

“No? Oh, good! I wouldn’t mind trying to fix it, of course, but it would have been really inconvenient during the battle. So you planned it?”

Link meets Zelda’s eyes, clearly unsure what to say. Purah seems to take that as confirmation.

“Well, it sure worked!” she says, fiddling with the device to decrypt the ancient cores. “You’re here and Ganon isn’t, so good job!” 

She puts the device down and grabs a Giant Ancient Core. “And this worked too! Want to do the honors, princess?”

Zelda startles, looking away from Link who is still sitting stiffly at the table, fists clenched. If only they’d been a little bit faster, the other Divine Beasts would still be accessible to them. She takes the Sheikah Slate and accepts the bowl from Purah, carrying both over to the Guidance Stone in the lab.

Purah is utterly fascinated by the process. Zelda, who’s already seen it once, is just eager to get it over with. Link isn’t looking at all, eyes unwaveringly fixed on the table.

“It worked!” Purah cheers when the flow finally reverses and the droplet of information enters the Sheikah Slate. She grabs the slate and opens the map, where the familiar ‘ all’ marker is again available. Zelda takes out the badge she had Robbie make and clips it to her collar while Link finally gets up and wanders over.

“What can we reach?” Zelda whispers to him. “If Medoh’s not available?”

Link frowns for a second, staring at the map. Then he points at a tower near Gerudo Desert. 

“Wasteland Tower,” he says. “It’s near Vah Naboris.”

Urbosa’s Divine Beast. Oh, she misses Urbosa. If only she could have talked to her one more time… Perhaps, if Link can upgrade the Sheikah Slate before fighting Ganon, she might be able to in just a few more days. Perhaps they can actually bring Urbosa back to life.

“Let’s go,” she tells Link, nodding. Purah hums.

“Oh?” she asks. “I thought you wanted to visit some people! My little sis is still waiting, you know!” 

Zelda hides her wince, guiltily shifting her eyes away. Impa is still waiting and she’ll probably be waiting for a while longer. They need to study the Divine Beasts as soon as possible. She opens her mouth to assure Purah that they’ll visit Impa soon after, but Purah doesn’t let her speak. 

“Oh well, Symin will let her know! You guys ready to go?”

Zelda hesitates. “Purah, you can’t—“

“Sure I can!” Purah digs into the folds of her clothes and pulls out the same kind of badge Zelda has clipped to her collar. “I had Robbie make me one as well. It’s been so long since I was able to see the Divine Beasts up close!”

Zelda exchanges a helpless look with Link. They don’t have time to argue with Purah if they want to see as much of the Divine Beasts as they can. Link clearly doesn’t look happy about the unexpected addition, but he grits his teeth and selects Wasteland Tower without any further ado. 

They reappear on top of the massive tower. Purah is all but bouncing in excitement and Zelda looks around in awe. For Link, the towers might be commonplace, but they still give Zelda a thrill. 

“That was interesting!” Purah says. “I wonder what the long-term effects are on a person’s body. Say, you’ve been using that thing for a year now, haven’t you?” she asks Link. Link nods, eyes fixed on Vah Naboris like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“So have you experienced any side-effects? Weird tremors, disorientation, stuff like that?”

“We can discuss that later,” Zelda interrupts. She stares out at the towering form of Vah Naboris ahead of them. It is kneeling, but still gigantic. The last time she saw it, Urbosa was piloting it with the easy strength Zelda knew her for. Now it is silent and still, a massive statue in homage to its champion. How long until another generation of people forgets what these beasts represent? What if the method for defeating the Calamity gets lost again?

She won’t let that happen, she vows. Once they make it out of this accursed cycle, she will make sure that all the knowledge of the Divine Beasts and the Sheikah Slate and the Guardians gets properly studied and recorded. Maybe they can even improve upon it.

But to do that, they need to make it to a new day first.

“How do we get there?” she asks Link. Vah Naboris is close, but not so close that climbing down the tower and walking there won’t cut another hour from their already limited time. 

Link opens the Sheikah Slate and fishes out a medallion. It glows with the same light as the towers and the Guidance Stone. “Travel medallion,” he says. He puts it down on the floor of the tower and when he opens the map on the Sheikah Slate again, a new portal point has appeared, overlapping the one of Wasteland Tower.

“Oh!” Zelda didn’t even know such a thing existed. She’s brimming with questions again: Where did he find it? Does it work everywhere? But for now, it’s an excellent solution. Link picks up the medallion and Zelda gets to see first-hand how the portal disappears. He gives the Sheikah Slate to Zelda but tucks the medallion in his clothes.

“I’ll go to Vah Naboris,” Link says, “and put down the medallion. Then you can come.”

“Yes, please do!” Zelda says. Link takes out his paraglider and is gone in a flash, jumping down the tower and soaring towards the hulking form of Vah Naboris. It will still take him a while; the tower isn’t high enough for his paraglider to carry him all the way there. Zelda and Purah watch his progress.

“There’s so much we never knew,” she muses. “I wonder how much Sheikah Technology we never discovered.”

“Plenty, I’m sure!” Purah replies. “So much left to discover!”

She sounds so enthusiastic. Zelda feels some of the old shivers of excitement in her heart reappear again. Yes, she’s still trapped, but even within the constraints of these five days there’s plenty to discover. If Link can get the Sheikah Slate unlocked before fighting the Calamity, there’s nothing standing in their way next time. And if they can save the champions, if that is what frees them from this loop… 

There’s a future ahead of her where she never has to fight the Calamity again and where she has her friends still with her. She wants that future desperately.

Link reaches Vah Naboris, but instead of putting the travel medallion down, he grabs onto the Divine Beast and starts to climb up. Zelda can follow his progress through the camera of the Sheikah Slate. It’s good thinking; Vah Naboris has gone down on its knees, but the entrance is still out of their reach from the ground.

He finally reaches the entrance and puts the travel medallion down, and Zelda and Purah waste no time using the new portal point to join him. Inside, Vah Naboris is silent and dark, but the sight of it fills her with some comfort. This was Urbosa’s. Even the way it is now, it still evokes some of that same comforting presence that Urbosa was all her life.

Link walks over to the terminal near the entrance, holding out his hand for the Sheikah Slate. Zelda hands it to him and he puts it onto the pedestal. Immediately, the terminal flares to life and along with it, Vah Naboris lights up. 

In the distance, an insistent beeping picks up. Zelda frowns, trying to place the noise. She has been inside Vah Naboris before but only ever heard the normal sounds of a massive machine moving.

“Where’s that coming from?” she mutters to Link. Link tilts his head, listening intently. Then he takes off into the Divine Beasts with large strides, leaving Zelda and Purah running to catch up. 

Link guides them to a terminal all the way on the other end of the entrance. The noise gets louder the closer they get. 

“Oh, communications terminal!” Purah realizes when they reach the terminal. Link slots in the Sheikah Slate and the noise changes, becoming more layered. Zelda frowns.

“What is it?” she asks.

To her surprise, it’s Link who answers: “Distress call.” He taps two fingers on the terminal along with the rhythm of the beeping. “You hear? It’s an army call.”

Of course. She forgets sometimes that Link was part of the Hylian army since he could barely walk, with how clearly he dislikes talking or even thinking about it. Now that he’s tapping out the rhythm, she can hear how the call repeats itself over and over again.

“But where’s it coming from?” she wonders. Purah pokes at the Sheikah Slate, scrolling through the information on the screen. 

“Princess, here!” she says. “It’s Vah Medoh!”

Link goes rigid. Zelda bites her lip but can’t help but lean closer anyway. It really is Vah Medoh, still sending a distress call into the void. Vah Medoh will still be active for another half hour, she thinks. Have all the Divine Beasts just been broadcasting their calls for help all this time?

Scrolling through the logs of the communications terminal seems to confirm that theory. Vah Naboris itself was sending out distress calls until just a few hours ago, as were Vah Ruta and Vah Rudania.

“They must have gotten stuck,” she realizes sadly. They must have been endlessly broadcasting a call for help that would never come, even a hundred years later. 

“There’s another message coming in!” Purah says. “Hold on, lemme see if I can decipher that…”

“Don’t,” Link says harshly. Purah looks up from the Sheikah Slate with a frown. Zelda gives him a worried look. His hands are clenched and his eyebrows furrowed, blue eyes deeply pained.

“First message is the distress call,” he says, words coming with great difficulty. “‘ We’re in trouble’. Second message is the explanation.” He looks at the floor. “ ‘This is what’s happening.’ It’s how they—“

That’s where the words fail him, but Zelda doesn’t need him to finish his sentence. The second message will tell them, in great detail, exactly how the champions fell to the Blights. No wonder Link doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want to hear it herself.

“Could still be useful,” Purah mutters, but Link’s glare is so scathing that Zelda steps between them and shakes her head at Purah. Purah is wise enough to abandon the communications terminal altogether. Vah Medoh’s distress call follows them as they head back into the Divine Beast towards the main terminal at its center.

Zelda spent time inside the Divine Beasts before the Calamity struck, of course. She was the one who used the Sheikah Slate to activate each and every one of them, and very little still compares to feeling such ancient machines come to life underneath her own hands. This, she had thought at the time, was their way to fight the Calamity. This was what would save Hyrule.

It had, in the end. Just much later than any of them had fathomed at the time.

The main terminal, the centerpiece of the entire Divine Beast, is pulsing sluggishly with the familiar blue power that runs through all Sheikah devices. The Sheikah Slate may have given the Divine Beast an emergency boost, but it is clearly only a temporary thing. Zelda circles the terminal while Purah places the Sheikah Slate into it and starts working through the information that appears. These terminals remind her of the Shrine of Resurrection — not a surprise, if Link is right and the Shrine of Resurrection housed an entire Divine Beast as well. Curious, she sends a pulse of power into the bulb-like shape that makes up the top half of the terminal. It lights up like a beacon and Purah crows in delight.

“Oh, do that again, princess! You’re powering it up!”

Zelda looks at her hands. Can she really keep the Divine Beasts powered? She goes to place a hand onto the terminal, but before she can, Vah Medoh’s distress call fades into one last lingering note before cutting out, plunging Vah Naboris into eerie silence.

Zelda glances at Link. He has turned away from her and she can’t make out his expression, but the line of his body is tense. If she checks the map on the Sheikah Slate now, she knows that Vah Medoh’s portal point will have disappeared. She expected it, but hearing the proof that the last of the Divine Beasts ran out of power is a painful reminder of everything they’ve lost.

“Well,” Purah says, and even she seems to recognize the gravity of the moment. “There’s still a lot of information to be gathered here.” She gestures for Zelda to come over and taps the Sheikah Slate, which she has opened onto the map of Vah Naboris. Some of her earlier perkiness returns the longer she speaks. “Did you know there’s an entire chamber underneath the main terminal? Wish I could figure out what it was for… I’m not finding any way to enter it. It’s probably a backup power generator, there certainly are a lot of power lines connected to it.”

She traces some of those lines on the Sheikah Slate. No energy is flowing through them at the moment. Zelda imagines even this backup system ran out of power until they activated Vah Naboris again. They could, in theory, reactivate all the other Divine Beasts too, but getting to them would take them far longer than they can afford.

“It has been ages since I got to see them up close like this!” Purah enthuses. “Had a bit of a hard time getting inside before, you know?”

“Did you ever manage?” Zelda asks. 

“Sure, once or twice! But these bones aren’t what they used to be and my assistants never want to come along!” Purah snorts. “Well. So what’s the plan?”

Vah Naboris, although fascinating, isn’t providing Zelda with any great insights. If one of the champions were here, they would have been able to tell her more. They always connected to the Divine Beasts on a much deeper level than she and Purah can manage with just the Sheikah Slate. Even Link doesn’t have that connection with his Master Cycle Zero.

She wishes Urbosa were here. After her mother died, Urbosa was one of the only people who cared about Zelda, not the princess or the newest incarnation of the Goddess. Between her duties and her father’s strict schedule, she never got to go to Gerudo Town as often as she would have liked, and Urbosa’s own duties as chief made it hard for her to visit the castle. Zelda remembers how relieved she felt when Urbosa accepted her position as Champion and they could consistently spend time together.

If all goes right, they can bring Urbosa back. They can bring them all back.

“I’d like to study Vah Naboris a little while longer,” she replies to Purah’s question. “I believe there is much valuable information yet to be gained.”

“Oh, yes, sure,” Purah says, “but I mean next time, you really should just tell me right away, you know?”

“Next time?” Zelda asks, uncomprehending. She and Link exchange a puzzled look. 

“Yeah, your loopy thing?” Purah traces a circle in the air, not looking up from the Sheikah Slate. “Just tell me, that’s way easier. You’ve got no time to waste anyway, do you?”

“You know?” Link asks, voice cracking. Zelda is aware that she’s gawping gracelessly. Purah knows? Her world feels like it’s been upended. How many more people are trapped alongside them?

“Are you also—?” she asks. Purah cackles. 

“Oh no, not at all! Don’t remember a thing, me! But princess, you’re really not a very good liar, you know that? Or you.” She nods at Link. “So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

Purah refuses to share exactly how she figured out that Zelda and Link are trapped in this never-ending cycle, but at least she isn’t trapped herself. Zelda doesn’t think she could handle learning that she’d dragged yet another person into this mess she’s created. 

Of course, she is thoroughly fascinated by the concept of time repeating and grills them endlessly while they work their way through all the terminals of Vah Naboris, but she does understand just how urgent their situation is when she learns that they will be sent back to before Ganon’s defeat in little more than a day. 

“Yes, you should come to me,” she says to Link when they gather in the lab in Hateno again.  “Before you defeat the Calamity. Do you know how to upgrade the slate?”

Link frowns; Zelda grimaces. Her efforts to teach Link about the Sheikah Slate and the way to unlock it have been for naught so far. His strengths lie elsewhere; she fears she just doesn’t have sufficient time to teach him the theory behind the Sheikah technology.

“I’m not good at it,” Link mutters. He’s seated next to Zelda at Purah’s largest work table. He’s been subdued — even more than usual — since they came back from Vah Naboris. Their trip to the Divine Beast gained them a lot of information, but standing inside the machine without Urbosa around was hard on them. 

“Nonsense!” Purah proclaims. She snatches the Sheikah Slate from the table. “I’ll teach you! I’ve got plenty of experience. You know Jerrin? Robbie’s wife? Terrible at this when she first came here. Turns out we just needed to find a method that worked for her. Which we did!” she says with no small measure of pride. “We’ll find a way that sticks with you!”

Link doesn’t look reassured at the idea of spending time with Purah. Fortunately, the hour has now grown so late that Zelda can safely beg off and make plans to reconvene in the morning. She and Link use the Slate to head back to the shrine near Link’s house. 

They need a plan and they need one fast, before she finds herself back in the castle again. Divine Beast Vah Naboris taught her a lot, but the clue to solving this equation remains out of reach. Which means she can only continue experimenting. She feels strong now, after Link did most of the work of beating the Calamity. The Goddess is said to bring people back to life. If only the champions hadn’t moved on before she could reach them, she thinks she could have too. 

Her sleep is shallow, and she wakes up at the very break of dawn. To her surprise, Link is already awake and sitting at his dinner table with her notes on the Sheikah Slate spread out in front of him. Did he even sleep at all?

He looks up when she goes down the stairs and she can see the frustration in his eyes. Was he really trying to teach himself how the Sheikah Slate worked from her notes alone? Her notes aren’t organized; they’re loose sheets of paper full of scrabbled remarks and quick sketches that she intended to turn into a more comprehensive manual at some later point. If her explanations didn’t make sense, her notes certainly won’t.

“Oh Link,” she says softly. “It’s all right if you don’t remember everything straight away. We can keep working on it next time.”

If she really needs to, she can teach him a little bit more with each loop. It might mean putting off their plans to save the champions, but… but they’re not going anywhere anyway, are they?

Link shakes his head. “I was thinking,” he says haltingly. “If they don’t shoot, they don’t move on.”

Yes, they’ve established that quite thoroughly. “So you’ll ask them not to shoot?” she guesses. Link nods. “Do you think they’ll listen?”

Link grimaces, looking down. “I’ll explain. Properly. They’ll understand.”

Yes, they deserve to finally know the truth. “Tomorrow,” she says. “Or, well, you know what I mean. If you have the Sheikah Slate ready, we can take out Ganon together and speed up the fight.”

Link gives that idea deep consideration, but then shakes his head. Before Zelda has the time to feel stung, he says: “I should do it. If you use your power on Ganon—“

Then she won’t have enough power to bring back the champions. Zelda grimaces. If she uses more power than is necessary to seal the Calamity, it might take her longer to get her power back than the five days they have. But she remembers how much longer it took Link to fight the Calamity without Vah Medoh’s support. If he doesn’t have any of the Divine Beasts backing him up… “Are you sure you can handle it?” she asks. 

Link takes a deep breath before nodding. “Yes. It might be slow.” 

“That’s fine, take all the time you need!” Zelda says. Better taking it slow and still be alive at the end of the battle than dying because he tried to beat it too quickly. “If the champions don’t fire their cannons, then we’ll have time.”

“Then you can bring them back?” Link asks. It’s Zelda’s turn to breathe deeply, as she contemplates the task ahead of them. How do you bring a person back to life? This power she has is capable of a great many things. It should be capable of this too.

“Yes, I believe so,” she says, trying to channel some conviction into her voice. She has no real idea where to start or what to do, but if she succeeds… Oh, if she succeeds they’ll have the champions back. At least a little bit of Ganon’s destruction can be undone and she won’t be so alone anymore. 

It is, at last, something to look forward to. A life beyond these same five days she finds herself caught up in. A life where she has people who know her, who can help and support her run a country she’s never had cause to run by herself. Where she can share her burdens and doesn’t have to put all of them on Link. Where Link too, perhaps, can be free to go where he wants without remaining shackled to a duty he never wanted.

Oh, she wishes for it. She longs for it, and sees that same longing reflected in Link’s eyes. 

“I’ll learn.” Link says. “Get the Sheikah Slate fixed, tell the champions. Then, after…” 

“We’ll go to them. We’ll save them,” Zelda finishes, nodding with all the conviction she can find within herself. This is it. If they save the champions and it still isn’t enough to break this loop… Well, they’ll be better for it, at least. She’s willing to bring them back to life over and over again if that means she gets to have them with her.

Zelda manages to tug Link away from her notes and gather them up again. There’s no point in him using them to study the Sheikah Slate — the only people who can make heads or tails of them are Zelda herself and maybe Purah. She’ll find another way to explain the workings of it to him before the end of the day.

They’ve just finished up breakfast and Link has gone outside to feed the horses when she hears Purah’s boisterous voice come from outside, loudly greeting Link. Zelda hustles outside, hoping to intercept her before she spills their identities to all of Link’s neighbors, and finds Purah having crawled up onto the fence that keeps the horses in the stable. She waves at Zelda when she sees her and almost topples off the fence when the white horse nudges at her head curiously.

“I was wondering whether you guys were awake already!” she says. “I wrote out some notes!”

Zelda is skeptical — Purah’s idea of note-taking is just as chaotic as Zelda’s own — but when they leave Link to the horses and Purah shows her the notes she brought, she can’t help but be impressed. These notes are clear, child’s play for Zelda but both easy enough to understand and thorough enough for Purah to later reconstruct the Sheikah Slate from Link’s description. 

“Ah, princess,” Purah says when Zelda expresses her admiration. “Don’t forget, I’m not actually six years old. I’ve taught plenty of people about Sheikah technology. We didn’t want to let this knowledge get lost if you and Link were unable to return to us before our deaths.”

Zelda stares down at the notes, feeling vaguely chastised. Yes, she did forget. She and Impa are of an age, technically, and Purah is older than both of them. Like Zelda, she is well over a hundred years old. Unlike Zelda, whose time in the castle was hazy and indistinct until Link woke up again, Purah lived every single one of those years. It is so easy to forget when looking at the child sat in front of her.

“So, do you have a plan yet?” Purah continues before Zelda can feel too bad. Zelda hesitates for a moment: should she tell Purah? But Purah won’t remember tomorrow anyway and Zelda would appreciate a second opinion.

“Yeah, I figured,” Purah says when Zelda tells her about their plan to revive the champions. “And you think you can do it?”

A century ago, Zelda would have taken it as a slight to her non-existent powers. Now she recognizes the curiosity behind the question and shrugs. 

“The Goddess’ power is infinite,” she says. If even that power cannot bring them back, then truly nothing can. And she has to hope that there is a way to break free from this cycle. That the Goddess wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave them trapped forever.

“And largely unexplored,” Purah says. Like Zelda, she was always more interested in the ancient Sheikah Technology. “Sure would be easier if we could just stick them in the Shrine of Resurrection, y’know?”

Zelda grimaces. It was sheer luck that they got Link to the shrine in time to save his life, and even then it took him decades to recover. For the champions, it’s a miracle a hundred years too late. 

“But I hope it works,” Purah says, voice soft for once. “For your sake, and for theirs.”

“Yes, me too,” Zelda says, stacking Purah’s notes together for lack of anything better to do. Because what if it doesn’t work? What else is left to try then?

“Hey,” says Purah, who must have noticed the way her hands are trembling. “If it doesn’t, we’ll just figure out something else, right? Scientific method! There’s always some other variable, we just have to find it!”

“Yes.” Zelda’s smile is a wavering thing, but at least she can smile. “Yes, you’re right. Thank you, Purah.”

When Link enters again, Purah immediately zeroes in on him, waving her notes around. Link’s face hardens and he squares his shoulders as if walking into battle, but he sits down at the table when Purah gestures for him to do so. 

“Start with those first two pages,” she says. “We’ll go over them and then build on that.”

And then, remarkably, she is silent. Zelda watches with some measure of jealousy as Link’s shoulders slowly unclench the more he reads. How he starts moving the hand not holding the pages along with the words. By noon, he’s learned all the basics Zelda wasn’t able to teach him and Purah is starting to show him what he’ll have to explain to her. They break for lunch only at Zelda’s suggestion. 

“You should sleep,” Link suggests once they’ve finished eating. “Like last time.”

Zelda is loath to miss out on half a day of time away from the castle, but Link is right. She slept on their last day on the Great Plateau, and she felt the difference when she woke up in the castle and had to fight Ganon for control. It gets easier every time. And this time, she’ll need all her strength not for the fight with Ganon, but for what comes after.

So after lunch, she gets back in bed, letting herself be lulled to sleep by Purah’s explanations and Link’s quiet questions in the background. When she wakes up again, it’s already going dark and Purah has left. Link is still sitting at the table, going through Purah’s notes and what looks like copious notes of his own.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks. Zelda hums. Yeah, she did, surprisingly. She had expected that sleep would be hard to come by, with the looming spectre of the castle and the task that now rests on her shoulders. But she feels well-rested and as ready as she’ll ever be. Link looks happier now that he’s figured out the Sheikah Slate. A weight seems to have fallen off his shoulders; he looks ready to go back. 

Their evenings on the fifth day are always a solemn affair. After dinner, she helps Link clean up and together they head outside. It doesn’t matter where they are when midnight comes about. They will fall asleep regardless — the Goddess will make it so. So they get away from the village, still awake despite the late hour, and find a hillside that offers them a clear view of the surroundings. She cannot see the Divine Beasts anymore. Even if she could have before, now they have shut down, and she is unable to make them out in the dark. Instead, she gazes down at her hands and brings up the power that is at her beck and call.

“You’re much stronger now,” Link says. Zelda smiles at him and moves closer to lean against his shoulder. 

“Yes. I think this time, we can really do it.” She nods decisively, first to herself and then to Link, drawing confidence from the hope so clearly dawning in his eyes. For once, she isn’t dreading reappearing in the castle. For once, she has something to look forward to. An end to this cycle and a life beyond Ganon’s terror.

“I think we can bring them back.”

Chapter Text

Link wakes up in the Swallow’s Roost and, for the first time in a long while, feels comfortable in the soft Rito-down bed. He turns onto his back and stares up at the curving roof of the roost. The air outside the blankets is cold, which makes the blankets themselves all the more comfortable. He feels lighthearted, buoyed. The champions’ gifts are back where they belong. If all goes well, he will get to return them to their rightful owners very soon.

They can bring them back.

He has seen Zelda defeat the Calamity on her own with just the power of the Goddess at her command. There is no doubt that she could do whatever she sets her mind to, and that includes bringing the champions back to life. In just a few days, they can finally put an end to this cruel cycle. 

He jumps out of the bed, greets Cecili cheerfully and for once agrees to have breakfast in the inn. He has time. Zelda won’t expect him for another few days. He asks for paper when Cecili brings out the simple Rito bread and wildberry jam, and spends his breakfast writing down everything Purah and Zelda taught him about unlocking the Sheikah Slate. He’s sure he’s forgotten some details, even though it was only one day ago. But he’s equally sure that Purah is smart enough to fill in the gaps of her own work. He just needs to gather the cores, go to Hateno, and then, once he has a fully functional Sheikah Slate, go to all the champions.

He’ll have to tell them about the loops.

They won't remember the events of the last loop, but Link's guilt over the distress he’s unwittingly caused them still lingers. He'll do better this time. How will they react? How will they take the news that there is still a way to save them?

He’ll find out soon enough. After scarfing down his breakfast, he sets off from the Landing. He could just go straight to Castle Town and all the places that have the Guardians he needs, but the Hylian traveler will be making his way from Rito Stable straight into the claws of the Moblins right about now, and however stupid he still thinks the man is, he doesn’t deserve being killed.

So he chases off the Moblins — red again, now that Zelda is fully prepared to nip Ganon’s Blood Moon in the bud as soon as it appears —, accepts the requisite spicy elixir and heads onwards to Rito Stable. Then, with all the required medicine for his horse safely tucked into the Sheikah Slate, he sets out for Castle Town.

He doesn’t need to hurry, but he now knows exactly which of the Guardians contain the cores they need, and he is eager to get the Sheikah Slate all ready. By nightfall, Central Hyrule and the Akkala Citadel boast significantly fewer Guardians and Link has all the cores he needs. He’s dead on his feet, but unlike before, he’s not expected in the castle. With all the cores tucked safely into the Sheikah Slate, he makes his way to Hateno and his too-still house.

He’s become used to staying here with Zelda, and he’s already in the process of unpacking his bedroll before he realizes that he actually can sleep in his own bed this time around. It is a peculiar feeling, having only the one remaining picture of the champions to keep him company. For once, it isn’t a reminder of wasted chances. For once, he can let himself imagine that maybe, very soon, they’ll be here to see this picture themselves. That maybe, they’ll have the chance to take more.

His body is exhausted from chasing after Guardians all day, but his mind is still going a mile a minute. There’s an excitement thrilling through his body that he hasn’t felt in months. Even his time traversing Hyrule with Revali was always overshadowed by the looming specter of a fight he couldn’t keep putting off. Now, for the first time, he finds himself looking forward to it.

He gets up at sunrise and warps straight from his house to the Hateno Ancient Laboratory. Of course the lab is already rife with noise when he approaches the door. He knows Purah sleeps — he’s seen her fall asleep on horseback after too-long days studying Hateno Tower — but he still hasn’t found any rhyme or reason to her sleeping patterns.

“Link! Back again?” Purah greets him when he pushes the door open. For a moment, Link freezes — does she remember after all? But then he remembers that he visited her before fighting Ganon that first time. Just a few days for Purah. An eternity for him.

“I need help. With the Sheikah Slate,” he says. Purah grins widely. 

“Is this for my birthday? Early birthday gift?” she says, grabbing Link’s sleeve and pulling him inside. Symin is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps, unlike Purah, he does keep to a regular sleeping schedule. “Sit down, give me the slate. What do you need? That age-changing rune isn’t doing what it should just yet, but if you really want to give it a shot…”

Link shudders and shakes his head. He has no desire to become a toddler, thank you very much. He takes out the Sheikah Slate and places it on the table, keeping a hand on it so Purah can’t run off with it.

“There’s a way to take several people. I need it to do that.”

Not the best explanation, but Purah seems to understand anyway. “To the shrines, you mean? Oh yeah, I can see how that would be interesting… Let’s see, if I can access its source files and link it to the Guidance Stone… Maybe the towers too, there’s got to be something we can use.”

“No.” Link takes out the notes he wrote up the day before and puts them on the table. “We already know. Here’s how.”

The look Purah gives him is nothing short of suspicious. She accepts the papers from him and scans through them, eyes widening with every page she turns. 

“You didn’t come up with this,” she states with utter certainty. Link shakes his head.

“No. You did.”

“Well!” Purah’s eyebrows practically rise above the frame of her glasses. “I’ve got a number of theories now, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”

Link feels no need to deny that. The faster they get this over with, the faster he can defeat the Calamity and the faster they can bring back the champions. “We’ve done this before,” he says. “Zelda— The princess and I. Six times.”

“That would explain it,” Purah mutters. Link can practically see the ideas whizzing in her head. “And so you need the Sheikah Slate to… what? How much time do you have?”

“Five days. Five nights,” Link corrects himself. “After we defeat the Calamity. Five nights. We need to travel fast.”

“Makes sense, makes sense.” Purah’s hand edges towards the Sheikah Slate. Link surrenders it with a sigh and she immediately opens up the slate, notes spread out in front of her. “So what’s the plan?”

“The champions. We think—“ Link has to pause there. Breathe through the anxiety and hope warring in his stomach. “We can bring them back.”

Purah, fortunately, never needs convincing when it comes to science. Even with the notes already in front of her, the mystery of Link and Zelda’s predicament has her eager to work on the Sheikah Slate. More than anything, Link would have loved to use this time to visit the champions. Zora’s Domain is only a day’s travel from Hateno; he could reach Mipha and be back before Purah finishes working on the slate. But Purah’s questions are still endless despite the notes Link wrote, and he spends the next few days traveling between Hateno and Akkala. 

When he isn’t playing messenger, he uses the opportunity to stock up on provisions and clothes for Zelda. He should buy some for the champions as well, he thinks. The Gorons and Zora aren’t big on clothes, but he imagines Revali and Urbosa would appreciate having something at hand, if they come back. 

When they come back.

Two days after he arrived at the lab, days during which Link desperately wishes he could move on, he at last has the Sheikah Slate back in hand, along with the five badges he had Purah and Robbie make. He can finally set out to see the champions.

It’s a difficult story he has to tell them, made all the more difficult by the fact that he should have told them a long time ago. He vividly remembers Mipha’s fury in the last loop, and facing Urbosa is still a scary thought. Daruk won’t be angry. Daruk’s only ever been concerned for him and Zelda; he is the least frightening prospect to start with.

The Flamebreaker armor may be excellent insulation against the volcanic heat, but the hot air still sneaks into his helmet and makes his eyes sting. He remains still for a moment, waiting for the temperature to stabilize inside the armor. It is mid-day and hotter than ever, although this high up even the cool night air would have made little difference pitted against the lava flows coming from Death Mountain.

He takes a careful step towards Vah Rudania and is immediately greeted with boisterous laughter.

“Looks like I’ve got a little lost Hylian here!” Daruk says, appearing not two steps from Link. Link exhales and grins, lifting the visor on the Flamebreaker armor. Some of his earlier nerves fade in the face of Daruk’s wide smile. He has very few certainties left in his life, but this is one of them: Daruk will not be angry with him. Daruk will help.

“So what brings you here again?” Daruk asks. He looks at the castle; it would be surreptitious, but Link has never known Daruk to do anything surreptitious in his life. He takes a deep breath and tries to find the right words for what he’s about to ask.

“Buddy? Everything okay there?” Daruk’s massive hand hovers over his shoulder, not touching. The thought that very soon, he might actually be able to, gives Link the courage to proceed.

“I have fought Ganon before,” he begins, struggling to find his words. Daruk’s eyes widen; he opens his mouth to speak but thinks better of it. Instead he looks at Link intently while Link fights with his next sentence.

“Six times. No, five,” he continues. “Zelda defeated it once. Lived through it six times.” He frowns, unseen by Daruk. He needs to find a better way to explain this.

“Link,” Daruk interrupts, eyes still wide and worried. “You— Six times? Are you okay?”  

Is he okay? Link is brought up short. This is not the first question he expected Daruk to have. Is he okay? Not yet. But he hopes he will be.

He raises a hand, but hesitates over yes and switches to maybe. Like Revali, Daruk isn’t particularly adept at the signs he uses — their hands just aren’t built for it. But he understands well enough. His frown deepens.

“It’s always something with that bastard,” he says, eyes straying towards the castle. Link doesn’t reply. Ganon is the one being he doesn’t suspect of having caused this loop. If the Calamity were trapped with them as well, it would be learning and improving. So far, each time Link fought it, the fight has proceeded exactly the same, with only Link’s own actions changing the course of the battle.

The battle ahead of him now will be the toughest one he’s ever faced. But he’ll make it through; he always has. And on the other end, finally, lies the way out.

“We have a plan,” he starts. Daruk turns all his focus on him again. “We think— the reason this is happening, it’s because you’re dead.”

Daruk’s face falls. “Ah. Not sure there’s anything we can do about that, buddy.”

Link shakes his head. “Zelda, she can. She can bring you back. But you shouldn’t fire.” He gestures at Rudania. His next words come out pleading. “Don’t fire the cannons.”

Daruk follows his eyes to Vah Rudania. When he speaks next, worry is laced in his words: “You ought to think about yourself first. We’re here to support you.”

“It’s how we fix this,” Link says. He is thinking about himself first, he doesn’t say. If they don’t do this, he and Zelda will be trapped forever. And even if they somehow, miraculously, escape, he no longer knows how to move on without the champions.

Daruk sighs. “Well, if you’re sure it’s safe. I wouldn’t mind, y’know,” he continues, wistful. “Would be nice to see Goron City from up close, eat some rock roast again. Finally meet that grandchild of mine.”

Yunobo does not remember the time Link returned Daruk’s Boulder Breaker to him, but Link has high hopes that he will eventually stop being intimidated by Daruk. He’s the only family Daruk has left. However much Yunobo tries to claim that he is nothing like his famed ancestor, they have the same core deep down.

It’s okay, Link signs. Daruk smiles, a slow grin that grows in certainty. “I’ll trust you on this, then! I’ve got your back!”

“And she’s okay? Zelda?” Urbosa asks. It’s the first question out of her mouth once Link has succeeded in explaining the last few months to her, and Link hadn’t expected anything else. Bolstered by the success that was Daruk, he’d opted to get through the hard part first and talk to Urbosa. He had expected her to be angry that Link has not yet been able to free Zelda, but mostly she looks concerned.

“She is—“ more okay than him, probably. For Zelda, the best part of these continued cycles has always been the part after they defeated the Calamity, when she is finally away from the castle. For Link, who is suffering through the same loss over and over again, it is most decidedly not. “She is fine. Stronger,” he manages to say.

Urbosa nods and looks down at him, eyes piercing. “I am glad to hear that. And you, Link?”

And him what? It takes him a second to understand that Urbosa is expressing concern for him. He still instinctively expects her anger, so he has a hard time coming up with an answer. Of course she’s worried about you too, Zelda would say. But Zelda has never been the cause of her fury.

“I hope—“ he begins. “If you’re back. It’ll be better.”

For Zelda, who won’t have to face the throne of Hyrule with someone who would much rather run far away from it. For Hyrule, with the support of the Gerudo that Riju has already offered. And for him, to never have to face the same awful loss again.

“I admit, it has been a lonely existence up here,” Urbosa says. “I have often wished — You know Zelda’s mother was a dear friend of mine. I have often wished that I could rejoin her spirit. Or failing that, save her daughter from that monster. This is not an option we foresaw, but if anyone can make it happen, it is Zelda. She has always been so much stronger than she realizes.”

Link hums in agreement.

“But Link, are you quite certain you can face the Calamity without our support?” Urbosa asks. Link crosses an arm in front of his body. Facing the Calamity last time, without Medoh’s support, was harrowing. But he will be careful. The champions cannot fire at any cost. And Zelda needs to preserve her power, which means he will have to wear down the Calamity alone until she can deliver the final blow. The Hero with the Sword That Seals The Darkness. Isn’t that how the prophecy went? 

“’S fine,” he mutters. Urbosa gives him a long look, and Link tries to portray the sincerity of his words. Yes, he’s scared, but it is the only way to bring them back, and Link is willing to take any damage for that. Besides, he has the champions’ gifts. He has the Sheikah Slate and its runes. He will be fine.

“It sounds to me like you’ve faced the Calamity quite a few times already,” Urbosa says with approval. “I trust that you know what you’re doing, Link. Still…” she looks up at Vah Naboris. “I cannot help but feel disappointed. We were meant to partake in this battle, after all.”

Vah Naboris rumbles, as if in agreement with its champion. “But you will have my support,” Urbosa says. She snaps her fingers in a facsimile of the lightning she gifted to Link. “We will stand by your side in this battle, and I hope to see you and Zelda soon after.”

The tension and subsequent relief of these conversations are exhausting. So instead of going to Vah Ruta, where Mipha awaits, Link spends the night in Gerudo Town. A detour results in clothes for Urbosa. Convincing Saula that the clothes weren’t meant for a Hylian vai like Link, but for an actual Gerudo, took a while, but the clothes are now safely stocked in the Sheikah Slate and ready for Urbosa when she comes back to them. In the inn, Link spends several long minutes looking at the Gerudo clothing set. It is a tangible bit of hope, even more so than the champions’ weapons. A future beyond the Calamity.

At sunrise, Link leaves Gerudo Town and moves on to Vah Ruta. It is a beautiful day — these early days of the cycle are almost all beautiful. The sun paints Vah Ruta into shades of copper and gold and makes Mipha almost invisible until she moves into the shadow of her Divine Beast.

“Link, it is so very good to see you,” she says, descending until they’re at eye level. In the few memories he has of his childhood, she used to tower over him. Now she is shorter than him, and Link wonders: the Zora adults are all significantly taller than him. Will Mipha finally get the chance to catch up to them?

She deserves that chance. And Link will make sure she gets it.

So in fits and starts, he explains the last three months. How he wasn’t sure at first, and then didn’t realize that Zelda was trapped alongside him. How he’s had to endure the loss of the champions six times already. How he and Zelda wish to save them.

Mipha’s shock doesn’t come as a surprise, but Link still wishes he could dispel the pain in her eyes.

“Oh Link…” she says, one hand clutched to her chest and the other stretched out towards him. Not touching, of course, no matter how much they both wish she could. “I am sorry I couldn’t be there for you.” 

Link shakes his head. It’s not her fault. She, thank the Goddess, isn’t trapped in this awful cycle, and more, Link never once managed to tell her before now.

“But Link, this plan— I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because we were unable to help you. Are you sure there is no other way?”

Link shakes his head. Oh, perhaps there is, but he has no intention of spending another several loops trying to figure out something else when they already have a perfectly good plan right now. Zelda can do this. 

Mipha grimaces, a complicated expression flitting across her face. “Are you really certain this is a good idea?” she asks. “It’s not that I don’t want to return, but…” Her eyes stray to Zora’s Domain far below them. “I have been dead for a very long time. Perhaps it is time to let us rest, don’t you think? You should move on, not put yourself in danger for our sakes.”

Link feels like he’s been slapped. Of all the people he expected to protest... He looks at her desperately, unable to say anything. Doesn’t she want to be with them again? 

“Sidon misses you,” he manages to croak. “I miss you.”

Mipha closes her eyes. “I know,” she whispers. “I know. I miss you too, so much. But Link, it’s so dangerous—”

“No,” Link grits out, cutting her off for what might be the first time ever. “Please, just. I can’t— I keep feeling you disappear.”

Mipha is shocked into silence at his outburst. She tries to reach out to him but fails, takes a breath she doesn’t yet need and nods.

“All right. I will try.”

Link lets out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t considered what to do if one of the champions didn’t agree to their plan. Thank you, he tells her. Mipha smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Sit with me,” she says, folding herself down onto the ledge of Vah Ruta’s rock and patting the space next to her. Link sits down, the way he did weeks and weeks ago when he visited her last.

“You must promise me, though,” Mipha says, “If it gets too much, you have to tell me.”

Link nods, carefully not thinking about how he can only talk to her if Ganon comes close to killing him. Mipha knows that well enough, and he is determined not to let that happen. They’re so close now; even the Calamity is no more than a temporary obstacle he’ll beat down like he has so many times already.

He leaves Revali for last. Revali, who he’s already told twice before, should have no issues agreeing. Unlike Mipha or Urbosa, who at least seemed at peace with their death, Revali was always restless, eager to find out what went on in the world below and frustrated that he could do nothing to affect it. He will be happy with the chance to come back to life. If it will finally allow him to interact with the world around him, touch— 

Once, months ago now, Revali asked him to come back if the cycle repeated again. Link has no issue keeping that promise.

He ducks into the Brazen Beak on his way towards Vah Medoh’s spire. Nekk is ready to sell him another Snowquill Set, but Link quickly declines. His own set is more than suitable and has seen him through some of the worst of Hebra.

“For a Rito? Yes, of course.” Nekk turns away from the Snowquill Set prominently displayed and goes digging through a trunk. He pulls out the lightweight leather armor that is typical for the Rito. Link squints at it and then at Nekk. He’s pretty decent at measuring heights — has to be, to make the kind of climbs he makes. These seem…

“Too big?” Nekk says. “Hmm, these should fit most adult Rito just fine. Unless you’re Kass, of course.” He chuckles; Link smiles. “But if these are too big, maybe some of the fledgling sets?”

Link shakes his head. Revali may be shorter than your average Rito and not all that much taller than Link himself, but he’d be gravely offended if Link tried to offer him a fledgling’s clothes.

… Which does make him want to try it.

He squashes the impulse. Perhaps later, when things aren’t quite so dire. The thought of Revali’s angered squawks is something to look forward to. 

Nekk is frowning. “We haven’t had teenagers in the village for years, so I don’t stock up on anything suited for them anymore… Why don’t you ask Misa? She may have something left from Fyson. Who is this for, even?”

Link doesn’t answer him, only nods his thanks and heads over to The Slippery Falcon. Misa is more than happy to dig up Fyson’s old clothes.

“I keep thinking I ought to clear them out,” she says, handing Link a brace that looks much more suited for Revali than the clothes Nekk showed him, “but I never get around to it. Honestly, you can have them all if you want. I was thinking about keeping them for Tulin, but my Fyson was so tiny when he was a teen, and if Tulin’s anything like his dad…”

Link nods. Teba is one of the bigger Rito, only surpassed by Kaneli and Kass. If Tulin grows to be the same size, these clothes won’t fit him. But they ought to be perfect for Revali.

He only takes one of the sets with a promise to come back for the rest when he needs them. Misa refuses any payment, insisting that he’s doing her a favor by taking them off her hands. So with another set of clothes stashed next to the Gerudo outfit, he climbs up to Vah Medoh for what may be the very last time before Revali is capable of making the journey down himself.

The thought gives him strength, and he makes the climb in much less time than he usually does. Or maybe that’s because he’s been doing it so regularly. Maybe he, like Zelda, is growing stronger with every loop as well.

“Slower than last time,” Revali still says when he reaches the top, but Link catches the glint in his eyes that says he’s reluctantly impressed. He grins. Revali scoffs and looks away. 

“Well, don’t let it go to your head.”

Never, Link gestures. He’s in high spirits. Revali scoffs again, but eyes him curiously. 

“Why are you here? I thought you were going to—”

He gestures at the castle. Link sobers just a little. Here he is again, ready to launch into the same explanation he's already given Revali twice. “I’ve fought Ganon before,” he says. Revali’s eyes widen. Link powers through before he can interrupt. “Felt you disappear. Six times now. It’s not a joke,” he adds when Revali starts to talk. Revali looks offended. 

“You defeat the Calamity and then, what? You come back?”

Link nods. “Me and Zelda, we defeat the Calamity. She knows,” he adds. “Then after five days I wake up in the inn.” He makes a vague gesture at the village below. Revali scrutinizes him, green eyes narrowed. 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve told me,” he guesses. Link shakes his head. No, it must be obvious. The first time, he could barely speak. Now he’s been telling this story so often that he’s almost used to the catch in his breath, the tightening of his throat. 

“Third time,” he replies. 

Revali doesn’t look happy about that at all, though Link doesn’t understand why. “So what are you going to do?” he asks. 

Link takes a deep breath. This is the hard part.

“When I fight the Calamity. You can’t fire Vah Medoh.”

Revali eyes him suspiciously. “Are you so eager to defeat the Calamity on your own?” 

Link flinches as if struck. After all this time— That’s really what Revali still thinks of him? Revali was the one who wanted to defeat the Calamity so badly, not him. He glares; Revali, at least, looks taken aback by his own words.

“That’s not—“ He shakes his head. “Fine, why can’t I fire?”

“You move on, when you do,” Link says. “Ten hours, eleven, something like that. But if you don’t fire, you stay.”

“And what does that accomplish?” Revali asks, an eerie echo of the last time they had this conversation. “Are you so eager to keep us confined here forever?”

Link shakes his head vehemently. “We think— Zelda, she can bring you back.”

His words linger; for a moment, Link is afraid that Revali’s going to write off the possibility like he did last time. But Revali steps up to the edge of Vah Medoh’s perch and looks down at the village below.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He’s never sounded more like the teenager he actually is than right now. Link recognizes the feeling: the fragile hope that maybe there’s still a chance for them after all this.

So he nods. He doesn’t know how Zelda plans to bring everyone back to life, but one way or the other, they will come back. They will get free of this loop.

“I suppose it is about time I returned,” Revali says, eyes still fixed on Rito Village. He laughs softly. “If none of them have been able to replicate my Gale… Someone ought to teach them.”

Link nods, relieved that Revali is agreeing far more readily than Mipha was. But Revali is still frowning when he looks back at Link.

“You’ve fought the Calamity before, then?” he asks. “And you’re very sure you can handle it?”

Link tries not to take it as an insult, but coming from Revali, that’s not always easy. Revali was the one who doubted him the most and even though he’s quite sure Revali doesn’t think that way about him anymore — or perhaps never really did — sometimes he wonders… And moreover, fighting the Calamity without Medoh’s support was hard. 

He hesitates a moment too long. Revali’s frown deepens. “Can you do it? How dangerous is the Calamity really?”

Link has made up his mind a long time ago. No matter what, this has to work. “I can do it,” he states, eyes meeting Revali’s and trying to convey his certainty. Revali’s frown doesn’t disappear, exactly, but he nods. 

“Fine then, don’t come crying to me if you can’t handle it.”

Oh, he won’t. If all that’s standing between him and a future where he can finally rest easy is one last fight with Ganon, then he will defeat the Calamity no matter what it takes.

He feels no particular inclination to spend the night in any of the four big settlements, nor in Kakariko or Hateno. He has spent many a night outdoors, but this time, on the eve of what might be the biggest fight of his life, he wants a proper bed. That leaves him with very few options, and of those options, Lurelin Village is by far the most palatable. He likes Lurelin Village. He likes how remote it is, how the Calamity has only barely left its traces there and how the people are still living the same life they lived a century ago. He cannot remember ever coming here as a royal knight, and why would he? There is nothing of interest here, except for a few crumbling ruins that far predate any known history of Hyrule. The people in Lurelin only recognize him as a Hylian from further inland and have no qualms putting him up for the night.

Once, he thought of Rito Village as the same. It hurts, to know that even after they’re free from this damned cycle, the village will be forever tainted. 

He spends the night in one of the little huts and lets the sounds of the sea lull him to sleep. He wakes up early. The light outside promises a dreary day; the rain is a soothing melody on the roof. Lurelin has some of the sunniest days in all of Hyrule. It also has some of the worst storms. 

Link takes his time getting dressed, ruthlessly pushing down the knot of anxiety forming in his stomach. They all agreed. There’s just a few more hours standing between him and the outcome he’s wished for since the very first time he went to sleep in Hateno and woke up in Rito Village again. All that’s blocking his way is a creature that’s ruined his life, and Zelda’s and the champions' and thousands of people across Hyrule. He’s defeated it before. He will do so again.

He warps directly to the shrine underneath the castle and sneaks past the monsters in the library. There are still plenty of Guardians to dodge, but thanks to his trip into the castle to collect Guardian parts for the Sheikah Slate, their numbers have been thinned out. No true Blood Moon has risen in a long time. Zelda’s control has improved so much that Ganon can only gain the upper hand in the brief minutes when she finds herself waking up in the castle again.

The Castle Sanctum is the same imposing ruin it always was. He stands in front of it, casually deflecting the attack of a nearby Guardian turret and watching from the corner of his eyes as it falls apart. He’s waiting. Zelda must know he’s here by now, she must have been following him —

Link. Did they agree?

“Yes,” he says out loud. He draws the Master Sword and, with a last glance around, steps forward. 

Ganon’s descent down from the tower happens in slow-motion, with Zelda’s power still holding it in check. Link almost steps back on instinct, too used to the impact of the Divine Beasts’ cannons. But none of them attack. They kept their promise.

“Let go,” he tells Zelda over the screams of the Calamity. She of all people cannot afford to waste power. 

Are you ready?

“Yes.” Link’s first attack hits when the Calamity is only just regaining its senses after being contained by Zelda for so long: a beam from the Master Sword that has it falling back. Without the Divine Beasts’ attacks, it is faster and stronger, and it recovers more quickly than Link would have hoped. He manages another attack before the Calamity collapses the floor below them and he — once again — ends up in the Observatory. He doesn’t think he’s ever been here before the Calamity struck. From what few glimpses he caught of it, it must have been a gorgeous room once. Too bad this fight won’t leave a brick of it standing. 

The Calamity is fast. It’s always been lightning-fast, incorporating the most dangerous traits of each of the Blights into its body. Now, undamaged, it is even worse, far more nimble than Link generally gives it credit for. Within seconds, he has to duck behind Daybreaker and deflect one beam, then another. The third one he dodges. He can’t get close, so he switches to Revali’s Great Eagle Bow and nocks his Ancient Arrows with practiced precision. Three of them find the Calamity’s eye, then another three. It screeches, but the damage is negligible. Link swallows and dodges, calling upon Daruk’s Protection to shield him from the next attack.

“Okay there, buddy?” Daruk asks, voice strained. Link nods, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He grabs the Sheikah Slate to freeze the monster and unleashes Urbosa’s Fury on it. She’ll appreciate that, getting to strike the Calamity as long-belated payback for the Thunderblight it sent after her.

On and on it goes, Link dodging and weaving between the pillars and steadily increasing rubble of the Observatory. He runs out of Protection, then Gale, and he has to retreat for several long minutes until he gets their power back. He’s getting tired, the way he usually feels around the time he faces down the Dark Beast, when he can make use of the wide-open plains of Hyrule Field to put some space between him and the monster. In such close quarters, he has a hard time making use of Revali’s Gale. He does resort to it to hide near the roof, meeting Revali’s anxious eyes and nodding to reassure him. He’s fine. He’s still fine. He might be tired but that was to be expected, and he has plenty of elixirs left.

He bombs the Calamity from the rafters and flings himself down to avoid its attack. That attack obliterates the little hiding spot he just found himself in. Annoying. Link gets up close and attacks the monster with his sword. It must have been a while now. Yet, the monster still isn’t down to the level where he usually starts the fight. For a moment, a shiver of doubt creeps into his heart. Did he overestimate his own skills?

No. He’s already fought it so many times. This won’t be the time he falls to it.

Still, he’s getting slower. He needs to duck behind Daruk again to avoid a swipe of the Calamity’s massive blade, and Urbosa’s Daybreaker meets its end when he mistimes parrying a hit. The blast throws him off his feet; he tucks into a roll and brings out the Great Eagle Bow again. The arrows slow down the monster, but only barely, and he falls back behind some rubble to find a moment’s reprieve.

He uses Fury twice in quick succession, then switches to the Sheikah Slate to keep the monster in place. The Great Eagle Bow creaks under the strain of the volleys of arrows he’s loosening — how much longer will it last?

Daruk saves him from another downwards strike. This time, when he meets Daruk’s eyes, he can see the panic there. Link grits his teeth. He’s fine. He can do it. He just has to be more careful. He’s fought all his life without relying on the champions’ gifts. He can withstand it.

But he is forced to use Gale again when Ganon gets too close for comfort. He uses the moment to draw the Great Eagle Bow  — and has it shatter in his hands. When he meets Revali’s eyes, he sees the pain there and Link bites back the guilt at breaking this bow once more. He catches the frayed strip of fabric in mid-air and tucks into a roll, away from the Calamity. 

He’s running out of their gifts again. The champions are straining to help him as quickly as they can, but there are still many long long minutes before they can come to his aid, once their power runs out.

Mipha can still protect him, if worse comes to worst.

This isn’t the first time one of the champions’ gifts has run out of power during a fight with the Calamity. It’s not even the first time during this fight. A minor setback. He’s been through worse.

He’s thinking this, and looking for a good vantage point near the roof, when the Calamity catches him unawares.

It’s not even one of its attacks, not directly. Its sword swipes the walls and collapses them just when Link launches into Gale. He doesn’t feel the pain — he’s knocked out the moment the wall comes down on him, but he definitely feels the rubble he’s under when he regains consciousness with Mipha hovering over him, her eyes wide and panicked. 

“Link, you can’t—“ she says, but she doesn’t have time to finish her sentence before she’s gone, leaving Link trapped under the rubble. He twists, desperately, the Calamity bearing down on him. Mipha’s gone. Her Grace can’t protect him anymore. If the Calamity hits him now — 

He calls on Daruk for help. The last time he can use Protection. If he doesn’t dig himself out soon… But one of his legs is caught and he can’t reach the rock covering it. Daruk’s eyes widen when he spots Link’s predicament.

“Hang in there, buddy!” he shouts when Protection fades. Link twists again, finally pulling his leg free and wincing as the rubble scrapes his calf up. He grabs at the Sheikah Slate, aiming Stasis at the Calamity swinging its sword—

From the east, and the west, the Divine Beast cannons crash into Calamity Ganon.

“No!” he screams over the Calamity’s furious screeching, as if any of the champions can hear them. Daruk. Revali. He told them not to fire, he told them, they’re going to die now just because— what? He would have been fine!

He launches himself at the Calamity with renewed fervor. If he’s fast enough, if he can buy them enough time, then maybe Zelda can still save them. He brushes at the tears clouding his vision and uses his anger to attack the Calamity. They promised. Why didn’t they listen?

He half expects Mipha and Urbosa to fire as well, but at least they don’t. It’s meager consolation when everything he’s been looking forward to has been torn from him in the span of seconds. It feels like ages until Gale recharges, and when he finally calls upon it again, Revali doesn’t look at him.

“Why?!” he snaps, but Revali pointedly turns away from him, leaving him adrift in mid-air. Was it all just for show, the support Revali gave him? Did he think Link couldn’t handle it, that he was still the same knight who failed to defeat the Calamity a hundred years ago?

He wants to shout at the injustice of it, but his only outlet is the Calamity, markedly slower now that it’s been struck by two of the Divine Beasts’ attacks. Yet it is still vicious, and not long after, he is forced to use Protection again.

Daruk, at least, looks at him. 

“Sorry kiddo, couldn’t let you die for us,” he says. Link has no time to reply and he doesn’t have the words for it either. I would’ve been fine! he wants to say, and, Why couldn’t you trust me!

But he doesn’t get the chance. The Calamity is no match for his renewed fervor and soon, he delivers the final blow to this form. When he reappears in Hyrule Field, he snatches the Bow of Light the moment it is within reach. He mounts his horse and spurs it on — anything to speed this battle up. He makes short work of the Dark Beast’s flanks. He’s exhausted, and in pain, and he’s afraid he’s broken a rib somewhere under the rubble, but it’s all irrelevant. He can fix himself up later. If he isn’t fast enough, Revali and Daruk might— they might—

He rounds the Dark Beast and throws himself into the updrafts that the Beast’s attacks created. He doesn’t use these, normally. They’re too unpredictable. But the thought of using Gale, of seeing Revali dismiss him again after everything, hurts worse than any of Ganon’s attacks. He’s too angry, too frustrated. The last arrow hits the Dark Beast with all the force he can still muster. By the time Zelda finishes it off, he’s already on the ground and taking out the Sheikah Slate. 

“Link, what happened?” Zelda calls the moment her feet touch the ground. Her eyes are wide, and Link sees his own panic reflected in them. “I thought they—“

That’s enough for the dam to break. “They agreed!” he says, the words steeped in anguish. Tears well up in his eyes, and he doesn’t even know if they’re from pain or anger. He aches all over. One of his ribs is definitely broken. Why does he have to suffer through all this pain if he doesn’t even get to have them back in the end? What point is there when they don’t even trust him enough to save their life?

Zelda doesn’t know what went wrong, only that Link had come to the castle brimming with confidence, and now he’s turning away from her, trying to hide hitched little sobs. He looks terrible, even worse than the one time when he could barely move after the battle. But that clearly isn’t the cause of his distress.

Vah Rudania and Vah Medoh fired their cannons. Zelda doesn’t know why Daruk and Revali broke their promise when Link is still whispering ‘they agreed’ over and over again. In the half-conscious state she finds herself in during Link’s fights with Ganon, she doesn’t have a good view of the proceedings. It must’ve been bad. Link is clutching his right side and his left trouser leg is torn all the way up to his knee, his leg covered in cuts and scrapes. Is that why—?

She clenches her fists. It’s not too late yet.

“Link,” she says, carefully touching his shoulder. He tenses, and she can’t tell if it’s from pain or anger. “If we go now, perhaps we still have enough time left.”

It doesn’t give her the full five days she’d hoped to have, but there’s a chance that the Goddess will grant them this one favor. 

Link nods, rubbing harshly at his eyes. He grabs the Sheikah Slate and tosses the familiar medicinal herbs at his horse. It looks far better than Link. It’s serenely grazing just a few feet away from them and sniffs curiously at the herbs before eating them. 

Link doesn’t pay it any further attention. He presses the badge for the Sheikah Slate in Zelda’s hands along with an elixir. Before Zelda can ask what it’s for, he’s already selected their next destination.

Ah, Zelda thinks when the freezing winds hit her. She quickly uncaps the elixir and downs it, sighing in relief when the heat makes its way through her. They are standing on a spire that towers over the surrounding landscape, and above them, a silent colossus visible from miles away, is Vah Medoh.

“Revali!” Link screams. Zelda startles; this is the loudest she’s ever heard Link shout. She looks around, but Revali is nowhere in sight. Link paces up to Vah Medoh, crouches down but can’t get Revali’s Gale working, and settles for hitting one of Vah Medoh’s massive legs.

“I know you’re there, get down!” he shouts again. But Revali doesn’t appear. 

Zelda feels helpless. If Revali doesn’t appear, there’s no way to bring him back, and with every second that passes, they’re closer to losing him and Daruk again. “Revali?” she calls out. “Please, we cannot help you if you’re not here!”

It has no effect. Link stands with his fists clenched, looking at Vah Medoh’s giant head. “Please,” Zelda hears him asking. “Can’t you get him—“ He shakes his head and places a hand on the Divine Beast’s leg. “Please help us.”

Vah Medoh groans, a deep sound that sounds sad to Zelda’s ears. She doesn’t know if the Divine Beasts can understand them but she thinks, right now, that Vah Medoh is just as helpless as they are. Link steps away, paces the length of the spire and then returns to Zelda’s side.

“Revali!” he shouts again, but it sounds choked up. He’s shivering. Zelda carefully takes the Sheikah Slate from him and finds the heavy Rito tunic. 

“Here,” she says, helping him pull it over his head. He hisses when she tugs it in place, one hand going to his ribs again. Zelda whispers an apology he doesn’t seem to hear.

“I thought he trusted me,” he says in a small voice. Abruptly, Zelda is furious. Link has spoken highly of Revali. He’s the one Link told about the loops first, even before Zelda herself. The one he asked to help them last time. And for what? Zelda changed her mind about Link a long time ago. She thought, from Link’s words, that Revali had too. 

She wraps Link in her arms, careful to not jostle his injuries any more. Link hides his head against her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Link,” she whispers. “I’m truly sorry.”

Revali doesn’t appear and time is ticking away, leaving Zelda increasingly restless. Link has sat down in the shadow of Vah Medoh, knees pulled up halfway, wary of his ribs. He wordlessly watches as Zelda paces. 

“Go,” he says when she passes him by. Zelda pauses.

“Sorry?”

“The Flamebreaker armor,” Link says. He holds out the Sheikah Slate to her. “Put it on. If he doesn’t want to—“ he makes an angry gesture up at Vah Medoh. “It’s not too late.”

Yes, Daruk has always been a lot more reasonable than Revali. He might be a champion who isn’t too stubborn to let himself be saved. Zelda accepts the Sheikah Slate from Link and takes out the Flamebreaker armor. It is large and clunky, and absolutely essential if she wants to survive near Vah Rudania. She tries handing Link her badge, but he shakes his head, drawing further into himself.

“You really want to stay here?” she asks, wrestling on the bulky chest piece and picking up the helmet. Link nods, looking down. Zelda wants to protest, but Link’s face is so bleak that she can’t bring herself to. Let Revali see what he’s done. Maybe he’ll actually come up with a shred of decency.

She finds the rest of Link’s Rito clothing and hands them over. If he’s going to sit here, he shouldn’t be cold. 

“I’ll come back,” she promises when she puts on the helmet. “As soon as I can.”

And with Daruk, hopefully. She has to keep hoping that. 

Death Mountain is a shock coming from the icy cold of Hebra. Zelda has to stand there for a long minute, waiting until the Flamebreaker armor acclimates to the heat and she can breathe normally again. The armor is terribly bulky and the vizor impedes her vision. Fortunately, the portal point has deposited her right next to Vah Rudania.

“Looks like I’ve got a little lost Hylian here,” a familiar voice says, gently. It’s a voice she hasn’t heard in over a century. Zelda finds herself tearing up as she turns around. There is Daruk, massive even as a spirit. He looks at her ruefully. 

“I’m sorry, little buddy,” he says. “Couldn’t risk Ganon doing any more damage, ya know?”

Zelda lifts the visor on the helmet and Daruk’s eyes widen. 

“Princess?” he says, taking an aborted step forward. “Oh, I am so glad to see you! Are you feeling okay?”

The sudden onslaught of concern makes Zelda tear up. She has missed Daruk. When she thinks of the champions, she most often finds herself missing Urbosa and Mipha, but now that Daruk is here in front of her, she realizes just how much she came to rely on his steady gentleness and how desperately she wants that back.

“Why did you fire?” she asks, voice trembling. Daruk looks up at Vah Rudania and sighs deeply.

“How’s Link?” he asks instead of answering her question. Zelda shakes her head. 

“At Vah Medoh,” she replies. “Revali refused to show up.”

Daruk nods, not looking surprised at all. “Is he hurt badly?” 

Zelda grimaces, though Daruk can’t see it. “His ribs. And his leg. I’m not sure—“ Link had taken some of the medicine she’d pushed on him, but he’ll need several days to recover.

“Ah, then you know why, your Highness,” Daruk says, booming voice lowered. “Did you see the battle?”

Zelda shakes her head. 

“He was in bad shape,” Daruk continues. “We see it, y’know? Little bits, when he calls on us. I couldn’t let it happen. What’s the point in us being alive if he dies for it? Revali must’ve felt the same.”

Did he? Link seems convinced that Revali didn’t trust him, that this was his final way of one-upping the Chosen Hero. And maybe, a century ago, she would have believed that. But Link has spoken so fondly of Revali… He’s not a bad judge of character. Perhaps Daruk is right and Revali fired Vah Medoh for the same reasons.

“I wish he’d show up,” she says. “We could still help him.”

“How about I send him a message, huh?” Daruk says. “Get him to show his face. I’m sure he just needs a little encouragement.”

He doesn’t wait for her to reply. For an anxious minute, Zelda stares up at the crouching shape of Vah Rudania and hopes Daruk will emerge from inside its bowels. Finally, he does, reappearing so suddenly in front of her that she takes an involuntary step back and almost trips into a lava stream.

“Whoa, careful there!” Daruk says, reaching out to catch her. Luckily, Zelda has already recovered her balance. The Flamebreaker armor may be heat-proof, but she isn’t ready to test how well it stands up against lava.

“Did he reply?” Zelda asks. Daruk shakes his head.

“I’ll know when he does. Rudania will tell me,” he says with a fond glance at the Divine Beast. Briefly, Zelda is jealous again. More than once, she has envied the champions’ close connection to their Divine Beasts. She is the one who first activated them, but the champions are the ones who bonded with them. Then she remembers how that close connection might cause Daruk to move beyond her reach very soon.

“I can still save you,” she says. “There’s still time. Will you let me?”

“Of course.” Daruk smiles at her and takes a seat right next to the lava stream Zelda almost fell into. “What do you need me to do?”

For a moment, irrationally, Zelda had been afraid that Daruk would also refuse. Perhaps, if she can bring back Daruk soon enough, that will be enough argument for Revali to finally show his face before he is lost to them again.

“Just stay still,” she tells Daruk. Quite honestly, she doesn’t know what to do. But she has power, and a lot of it. The Goddess can bring about miracles. They’re long overdue a couple of those. 

She starts slow, calling up her power in a trickle. There are still three other champions she needs to bring back. It won’t do to waste all her energy in one go, even though it is very tempting. Daruk looks fascinated by the golden glow surrounding her hands, and she remembers abruptly that none of the champions have ever seen her power awakened. They were all already dead by the time she finally succeeded in unlocking a power that should have been her birthright.

The small trickle of light does little but cast the surrounding rocks in a golden glow. It reaches Daruk, but appears to go straight through him. 

“Do you feel that?” Zelda asks. Daruk shakes his head with another rueful smile.

“Sorry, princess. Try a bit more?”

She does, increasing the flow of power, but no matter what she does, nothing seems to stick. It just passes straight through Daruk and is tugged away to… Well, she doesn’t know where to. Daruk’s face is growing more and more resigned, as if he’s already given up and just doesn’t want to disappoint her. Zelda grits her teeth. She thought she’d finally unlocked all of her power. But what use is it if she can’t even do this?

“Ah, princess,” Daruk speaks up when she increases the flow of power again. “Don’t do that. You need it for the rest of them.” 

Zelda shakes her head. “I can still do it,” she says, trying to imbue her voice with confidence she doesn’t feel. She’s always used the Goddess’ power as a blunt weapon. Is that what’s wrong? Can she still not wield it?

… Then she truly is a failure.

“Why don’t you take a break, huh?” Daruk says, getting up. Zelda blinks and refocuses. Night has already fallen over Death Mountain; amidst the red-hot glow of the lava, Vah Rudania is a bright blue beacon.

Was it always this bright?

Daruk follows her line of sight and chuckles. “Ah well, guess at least one of us got something out of it.”

Zelda will never understand how he can laugh when the situation is so dire. Not only has Vah Rudania eaten up what little energy Daruk still had to keep him tied to this realm, but now it has also consumed the power that was meant for him? What does the Divine Beast need all that energy for when its champion is about to be out of their reach forever?

She wants to shout at it, but Daruk grinning so fondly at the Divine Beast and she can’t take that from him. Can’t tell him how Vah Rudania is sucking up what little energy he has left. The champions love their Divine Beasts. She had hoped that the Divine Beasts loved them in turn.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. There’s no point in continuing if Rudania just keeps taking all the energy meant for Daruk. Daruk shakes his head.

“Link warned me, didn’t he? Guess you kids were spot on about the whole firing thing. Ah…” his gaze strays away from Vah Rudania and down the mountain, though Zelda can’t make out what he’s looking at. “Come on now, you’ll get another chance.”

In the heat of Death Mountain, Zelda’s tears dry out before they can make their way down her face. Is it really just because Daruk already fired Vah Rudania’s cannon and can no longer be brought back? Or were they wrong all along and is there no hope at all?

“Hey, hey,” Daruk says, soothing. “Mipha and Urbosa are still waiting for you, you know? They’ve been really worried about you, they’ll be glad to see you.” 

Zelda takes a deep breath and nods, although she doesn’t really feel it. She stares at her hands. After all this time, all this work. And she’s still just as helpless as when she and Link first had to flee from the Calamity.

“You’ll figure it out, I know you will,” Daruk says. He walks over and sits down next to her, so massive that even with her standing, they’re of equal height. If only he were really here. She wishes she could have the same faith in herself that he seems to have. That the other champions must have had when Link told them about the plan.

Urbosa and Mipha. They didn’t give up all their energy to fire the cannon. This loop is already a lost cause if they can’t bring back Daruk and Revali too, but maybe, if she figures out how to bring them back to life, then the next loop can be their last one. Then they just have to make doubly sure that none of the champions ever fire. 

She’s so caught up in her thoughts that Daruk’s soft noise of surprise almost doesn’t register. She looks up, belated, only to see him standing up again, staring at his hands. 

“I guess this is it then, princess,” he says. Zelda jumps up, but she has no way of preventing the way he grows more transparent, fading away in front of her very eyes. “But you’ll do just fine. I’m really glad I got to see you safe and sound again.”

Zelda can only watch as he fades away, dissolving into thin air until all that’s left are specks of green light that fly up and into Vah Rudania. So the Divine Beasts even consume the champions’ spirits at the very end? How cruel. And yet, she doesn’t think any of them would mind.

Link is nowhere in sight when she returns to Vah Medoh’s spire and takes off the helmet. For a single, inane second, she thinks he’s left the spire altogether and gone down to the village below, or even away from her entirely. He must have felt Daruk’s gift disappearing. With how long she’s waited, Revali must be already gone as well. After all her confidence and planning, he’d have every right to—

But she spots him soon enough, slumped against one of Medoh’s giant legs. He looks up when he hears her clanking footsteps, blue eyes dull in a way that reminds her uncomfortably of the Link who was first assigned as her royal guard. He’s no longer crying, but the tears have left streaks through the grime on his face. He’s at least taken the time to put on the full Rito outfit. 

Rudania? he gestures when she comes close. Something like hope sparks in his eyes, but it soon disappears when he sees her face. Zelda shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry. Nothing worked.“ 

“Oh.” He looks down at his knees. “I thought—“

Through her grief, Zelda feels something like curiosity again. “What did you think?” she asks gently. Link reminds her so much of a skittish cat right now. She’s already strained him so much. How much more can he take?

“I thought… They fired at the same time. But Revali went first. Then Daruk.”

Back on Death Mountain, Zelda hadn’t kept precise track of time. But for Revali to disappear before Daruk did, right after Zelda channeled so much of her power into him… It ignites a little flicker of hope in her again. Maybe it can work. Maybe there really is a way to bring them back. Perhaps not now, but next time, next time…

“I… That’s important, I think,” she says. Link nods, although she’s not sure he believes her. “Did— Did you see Revali?”

Link’s face abruptly shutters. He shakes his head.

“Daruk said… He said he wanted to protect you. Revali too.” 

“I had the slate, I had it handled,” Link spits. Zelda’s eyes flit over his face, still covered in grime from the battle, to the way he’s still clutching his side and to his leg, which he’s kept bent at an angle so it doesn’t touch the rock face. Privately, she thinks Daruk was right. So can she really begrudge them for firing their cannons when not doing so might have cost Link his life?

And yet, looking up at Vah Medoh, now still and silent except for slow, sluggish pulses of energy, she thinks she can begrudge Revali for leaving Link looking like this.

“We should go,” she says, crouching down and reaching out a hand to Link. Link reluctantly takes it and lets himself be pulled up. “I think there’s still a chance.”

“Oh, I have missed you, little bird.”

Urbosa is there when they appear on Vah Naboris. She is there, and finally, finally the world makes a little more sense again. Zelda swallows hard, her throat dry. It’s been so long, so so long and she’s missed Urbosa so much.

She steps forward almost involuntarily, craving some of the comfort Urbosa always gave her, but when Urbosa tries to take her into her arms, the embrace goes right through her.

Link, next to her, shakes his head. “They can’t touch,” he mutters. 

Disappointment hits her like a punch in the gut. She remembers, vividly, her father’s arms around her.

Why are the champions different?

Urbosa lowers her arms, her face crestfallen. But she is quick to recover, smiling warmly at Zelda. “I am so glad to see you again, my little bird. Tell me, how do you feel?”

The loss of Daruk and Revali still sits heavy in her stomach, but seeing Urbosa makes her just a little bit calmer. Urbosa will help her figure out what to do.

“I lost them,” she says, eyes on the floor. Urbosa sighs softly. She walks to the edge of the platform and gestures for Zelda to join her. Link, to her left, is a silent shadow again, face shuttered. Zelda wishes she could break him out of it. She wishes he hadn’t been hurt so.

“You mustn’t blame yourself. They have made their own choices.”

Link clenches his hands, but he still doesn’t speak up. Zelda stares out across the Gerudo Highlands. She was unable to save Daruk. She didn’t even get the chance to try with Revali. But if Link is right, then something she did must have affected Daruk. And Urbosa never fired. Neither did Mipha. They will still linger. She has a chance.

“I can bring you back, I think,” she tells Urbosa. She’s desperate to get started. Even if they will have to do this all over again to bring back Daruk and Revali as well, she at least wants to know how to bring the champions back. Then next time can be the end of it.

“Not today, little bird,” Urbosa says gently. “It is late, you have both been through a lot today. You must sleep now.”

Zelda wants to protest: yes, Link should sleep, but she still has plenty of energy to spare. She can keep going. But Urbosa’s look brokers no argument. It is a look she recognizes, even though it’s been over a century since she last saw it. Urbosa has made up her mind and nothing Zelda says will change that. It is so nostalgic it hurts.

Link, at least, does not argue with Urbosa, just takes out his bedroll and tucks himself away in a corner of the Divine Beast. Zelda wonders if he’s still upset about Revali or upset with her for failing to bring him and Daruk back to life. Maybe both. Link will probably never tell her. 

“How is he?” Urbosa asks in a low voice when Link’s breathing evens out. It could mean that he’s asleep, but equally that he doesn’t want to let them know he’s still awake. Throughout all these loops, she’s known his sleep to be shallow at best, except on that final night when they can’t stay awake no matter what they try.

Zelda shakes her head. “The battle was hard on him,” she says. She still doesn’t know how hard, but despite the food and elixirs he’s consumed since the end of the battle, he’s still favoring his right leg and clutching at his side whenever he thinks she doesn’t notice. 

Urbosa nods solemnly. “I do not often see him get hurt. My power is not a defensive one. I greatly enjoyed striking down the Calamity,” she says with a faint smile. “But I did hear from the others. I trust their judgment.”

“But you didn’t fire yourself?” Zelda can’t help but ask. 

“I believed that he would be capable of finishing the battle on his own.” She glances over her shoulder, at where Link is sleeping — or pretending to. “And I truly was looking forward to seeing you again, little bird.”

Zelda smiles, even though it feels pained. Secretly, she is glad for it. She still has Urbosa and Mipha, at least. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confesses. “I thought that somehow, if I could just bring the Goddess’ power to you, it would be enough to bring you back. But it wasn’t enough for Daruk. Vah Rudania just took all of it.”

“Vah Rudania did?” Urbosa raises an elegant eyebrow. “I do wonder what its reason was.” She glances up at Vah Naboris, as if expecting an answer, but the Divine Beast remains silent.

Or no, that’s not quite true. From deep inside the bowels of the Divine Beast, audible now that Zelda is listening for it, she hears a doubled distress call. Vah Rudania. Vah Medoh. Urbosa bows her head. 

“The broadcasts started just a little before you came here. It is their way of mourning their champions.” She places a see-through hand on the floor they’re sitting on. “Has Vah Naboris mourned me too, I wonder?”

“It has,”  Zelda says. “We came here last time.”

“It was the last message we were able to send, before our deaths. Our last words.” Urbosa lets out a soft laugh. Zelda shivers. “I imagine they wanted to preserve them, in their way.”

“I didn’t know the Divine Beasts could function independently.”

“The Divine Beasts can do many things, little bird. You, with all your knowledge, should know not to underestimate them.”

The mention of any knowledge she’s supposed to have hits Zelda hard. Oh yes, she knows the Divine Beasts and the Sheikah technology. But these powers? Her birthright? She still knows so little. 

“Didn’t help me save Daruk,” she mutters. “... My mother would have known what to do.” 

Her mother had realized her powers right when she was supposed to. She had been trained by Zelda’s grandmother, the way so many of the Zeldas who came before her had been trained.

“Ah, little bird. I loved your mother deeply. She was my dearest friend. Had she lived longer, then perhaps she would have been the one to face down the Calamity, instead of you. But she didn’t.” Urbosa sighs deeply, eyes so terribly distant. “And you did. Even without the training you were owed, even with all the pressure put on you, you still stood up to the Calamity and staved off its destruction for a century. That is a feat no one else has ever performed. Even now, you are accomplishing what I would have believed impossible.”

“If I had defeated it, you would still be alive.”

“And did it not take just as much power, if not more, to keep it contained all these years? You are not to blame for the chances taken from you. If anyone is to blame—“

But she trails off, and even though Zelda knows exactly who she’s talking about, she’s grateful that Urbosa didn’t finish her sentence. Her feelings towards her father are still complicated. Perhaps, with time and distance, she will come to accept both the man who loved her and the man who so often made her miserable. 

“I have faith that you will figure it out, little bird. But now you must rest. It is far too late and you have been through far too much.”

There’s a lot she still wants to tell Urbosa, and ask her about. But the hour is late — it must be near midnight already. She thinks Link has fallen asleep now. And with Urbosa watching over her and the promise that perhaps, very soon, she’ll actually have her back, Zelda manages to find some inklings of sleep. 

When she lies down and dozes off, it is with Vah Medoh and Vah Rudania’s mournful calls in the background.

Link wakes up sore and in pain, and with the lingering taste of loss on his tongue. Why does it keep hurting so much, he wonders with a sense of injustice. He’s lost them so many times already. Why is it that not only does the loss never get better, but it actually gets worse?

Fine. He’ll accept that perhaps Revali thought he was helping him. Daruk certainly thought so, because Daruk has never been anything but genuinely helpful and concerned for Link and Zelda’s well-being. Never mind that Link could have handled it. Never mind that the Sheikah Slate was still perfectly capable of freezing the Calamity in place for the time it would have taken him to free himself. And never mind that he was a fully-trained royal knight, destined to battle the Calamity, long before he ever had the Sheikah Slate or the champions’ gifts with him.

But for Revali to refuse to acknowledge him? He had thought that after all the time they spent together—

Ah, but that Revali is long gone, isn’t he? This Revali doesn’t remember, nor will any Revali in any loop he’ll be forced to live through.

Link laboriously leverages himself upright. Zelda is asleep a few meters away from him, with Urbosa standing guard over her. When she notices Link sitting up, she gives him a faint smile and gestures a greeting: Good morning.

Good morning, Link returns. Urbosa’s Fury and Mipha’s Grace are the only two gifts still remaining with him. Losing all gifts at once always felt bad. Now, with two lacking and the other two still sitting warmly in his chest, it somehow feels worse. Strange, unbalanced. An essential part of him is missing, but only half of it.

He hopes that he won’t have to experience their loss in this loop. Or ever again. He only wishes to lose these gifts if he can return them to their owners in the same breath.

Under Urbosa’s watchful eye, he searches the Sheikah Slate for blue nightshade. It’s poisonous, of course, but it’s also an excellent painkiller he’s found himself relying on more than once. It took him some trial-and-error (and a day or two that are completely missing from his memories), but he has figured out the right dose a long time ago.

He starts a fire, bracing himself for Urbosa’s reaction — but unlike Revali, she has no issue with fires near her Divine Beast. When he gets a pot of water boiling, he adds the nightshade and brews himself enough tea to take the edge off the pain. 

Zelda wakes up just when he sips from his cup. Her eyes settle first on Urbosa, then on Link, and determination crosses her face. Link is glad that she feels it, because he doesn’t. 

“Have you slept well, little bird?” Urbosa asks. Zelda nods. She actually looks like it, and Link envies her. Urbosa’s presence has pulled her back from the despair she was caught in yesterday. 

“Link? How are you feeling?” Zelda asks. She sits down next to him and bends over the tea he’s brewing. Link holds his hand over the pot before she can get too close. The dose is good for him. For Zelda, who didn’t break anything and didn’t fight a battle that lasted hours and hours, it is much too strong.

“Painkiller,” he explains. 

“Oh, good! Will you be okay?”

“Yeah. You should—“ Link gestures at Urbosa. Zelda takes a deep breath and nods. She gets up.

“I still don’t know how to do this,” she admits to Urbosa and Link. Her hands start to glow. “But something has an effect. We just have to find it.”

“And you will.” Urbosa holds out a ghostly hand and Zelda takes it, a facsimile of a handshake. The power intensifies, surrounding Urbosa’s hand and arm. 

“Can you feel that?” Zelda asks anxiously. Urbosa frowns in concentration.

“… I think,” she says after a moment of charged silence. “I feel something… a warmth, almost. But it is very distant.”

Link perks up, expectant, as does Zelda. The power flow increases, and Link keeps a close eye on Urbosa’s ghostly form, hoping to see any kind of change — a return to solidity, or color, or anything that would indicate that they can drag the champions back from the realm of the dead.

But it soon turns out that it won’t be so easy. Half an hour later, when Link’s tea has kicked in and the pain in his ribs has been relegated to a faint ache, Urbosa still feels nothing beyond the initial sensation of warmth, something she still describes as a feeling ‘not quite here’. 

He browses idly through the Sheikah Slate to pass the time, carefully avoiding the inventory of clothes he has stored. He had been overconfident, getting clothes for Revali. At least the loops make it so that he doesn’t have to give them back to Misa. He won’t have to field her questions about what happened.

He is shaken from his thoughts when Vah Medoh and Vah Rudania’s mournful calls are interrupted by a new call, one Link needs a few seconds to decipher. Confirm status.

“Oh, that’s Mipha,” says Urbosa. Zelda breaks the flow of power and steps away.

“Is she okay?” she asks anxiously. Link feels the same anxiety grip him. It has been over half a day since Ganon’s defeat. What if they were wrong and the champions do move on even if they don’t fire the cannons?

“Oh yes. Just give me a second.” Urbosa doesn’t actually move, but her eyes narrow and she presses her lips together in concentration. Moments later, the message falls silent and is replaced with another one: Acknowledged.

“She wanted to know if you were all right,” Urbosa tells them, nodding at Link and Zelda. “I told her you were, but these messages can only convey the very basics. Perhaps you ought to go tell her yourself.”

She says this with a significant look at Link. Link gets up. Waiting for Zelda’s power to take effect is both nerve-wracking and boring, and he thinks Mipha deserves an explanation. Besides, he’d love someone to talk to right now.

“I’ll go,” he says, picking up the Sheikah Slate. Zelda doesn’t need it to bring back the champions. Zelda puts a hand on his arm before he can disappear.

“Tell her we’ll be there soon,” she says, “and that I look forward to seeing her again. And let me know if anything’s wrong, all right?”

Yes, Vah Naboris and Vah Ruta can clearly still communicate easily enough. Not that he expects anything to happen, but at least having an open communication channel beyond Zelda’s sometimes-nebulous telepathy puts his mind at ease, and Zelda’s too.

Mipha startles when he appears. She is standing on the edge of Vah Ruta’s rock and she clearly hasn’t expected him, because for a second she looks worried before her face settles into relief.

“Oh Link, I am so glad to see you. How are you feeling?” she asks, her eyes sliding over him in search of obvious injuries. Link is glad for the blue nightshade running through his system. He heals fast — much faster than he used to before coming out of his Shrine-of-Resurrection-induced sleep — but some injuries don’t just heal in one day and the painkiller helps him conceal his limp.  

Fine, he gestures. Mipha looks only slightly mollified, so he changes the subject before she can ask anything more.

“Zelda is with Urbosa. She’ll come soon,” he tells her. Mipha smiles a little tremulously.

“I thought so. How is… How is it going?” 

Link shrugs. Zelda’s progress has been minimal so far, but there has been progress. It’s all they can count on. 

“Vah Rudania and Vah Medoh, they have been…” Mipha trails off. But even from down here, Link can hear the faint sound of the distress calls that have also reached Vah Ruta. 

“We were too late,” he says. Mipha lowers her head, turning away from Link.

“Ah, I wish…” she says, but her words trail off. Link’s anger has only barely died down, but now it flares up again. 

“I wish they’d trusted me,” he says harshly. Mipha’s head snaps up.

“Oh no, Link, you mustn’t think that!” she says. “We did trust you, it’s just—”

“—They didn’t trust me.” Revali didn’t trust him. 

Mipha hesitates. She stares at him for a long moment, clearly unsure of what to say. Does she agree, then? 

“I panicked,” she says at long last. She looks away from Link, out over Zora River. “We saw what happened, Daruk and Revali and I. You were trapped, Link!” Now she turns back, eyes blazing. Link takes a half-step back, surprised by her vehemence. “If Daruk and Revali hadn’t fired, I would have.”

“I could’ve handled it,” Link bites out. Seriously? Not even Mipha had trusted him enough to just follow the plan?

“Do you value your life so little that you think we would take that risk?” Mipha’s eyes burn through him. “Link, do you really think we were happy to just stand back and let you face the Calamity alone? But it was so important to you, so we wanted to give it a chance.”

Right. So none of them trusted him to fight the Calamity. Good to know.

“Link!” Mipha insists. “Please, none of us doubt your skills. But letting you die was never an acceptable outcome.”

“… They’re gone. Revali and Daruk. They fired and we can’t bring them back anymore.” 

“We’re already dead, Link,” Mipha says, gentle but with a steely undertone to her voice that brokers no argument. “They knew when they fired. I knew when I wanted to fire. If they still considered it a worthwhile action, it was because they cared about you more than their own lives. And besides, like you told us… It will all repeat again, won’t it?”

It feels eerily like admitting defeat. Zelda hasn’t been able to bring Urbosa back yet, he knows. Her Fury still sits below his heart. 

“Can you at least accept that we care about your well-being?” Mipha asks softly. It feels like a well-trodden argument, even though Link can’t remember specific instances of it. The Link of the past would have had a hard time accepting it. He does not want to be like that Link anymore. So perhaps he should accept their concern. He will strive to return it.

“I”ll be more careful,” Link agrees. When he fights Ganon again, and he will fight Ganon again, he will just avoid any crumbling walls.

That seems to satisfy Mipha. She smiles up at him, with none of the anger he just saw or the fury he remembers from last loop. Mipha always did manage to make him feel better. He looks out with her over Zora River, following its winding bends all the way to the Lanayru Wetlands. Beyond that, in Kakariko Village, Impa will surely have received word of what Link has been doing. He wonders if Purah told her about the loop they’re trapped in. He wonders if the Sheikah would have any more information on it.

“Before now,” Mipha asks softly as they stand admiring the landscape, “did you ever tell anyone? Aside from the princess?”

“... Purah figured it out, last time,” he says. He still isn’t sure exactly how she did it, and Purah this time can’t tell him. He wonders if he should be entirely honest, then decides that Mipha deserves at least that much. “… And Revali. I told Revali.”

“Revali?” Mipha’s tone is surprised, but not quite as shocked as Zelda’s was when he told her. “I suppose… When was this?”

“Two loops ago. Last loop too.” 

“I see,” she says. Link thinks she doesn’t, but he doesn’t know how to explain it to her. He doesn’t regret only telling Revali. Urbosa and Mipha would probably have urged him to free Zelda as soon as possible. And while Daruk would have been sympathetic, he would have advocated the same. He still regrets leaving Zelda trapped in the castle for two months, but he doesn’t regret the time he spent on the road with Revali. He thinks that if he hadn’t, he might just have perished in the fight against the Calamity due to some mistaken belief that he ought to fall to it.

(And if not for those two months, they might never have been set on the path to bringing the champions back.)

“I am glad you were able to find someone who would listen, even if it wasn’t—“ Mipha shakes her head. “I’m glad we’re all friends now.”

Link returns to Vah Naboris past sunset. He knows Zelda hasn’t succeeded in bringing Urbosa back — he would have known if she had — but he had hoped for some progress. Instead, he finds Zelda disheartened and Urbosa still as dead as they started. The only difference, to Link’s eye, is that Vah Naboris is shining brighter than ever before, a glowing beacon overseeing the rapidly-cooling Gerudo Desert.

“I’m sorry,” Zelda says when Link returns. “I don’t understand — whatever I do, it’s like it goes right through her.” She gestures at Urbosa, who has taken to sitting next to the main console, legs crossed and sank in deep concentration. She hadn't even looked up when Link reappeared. “Vah Naboris just absorbs it all.”

Like Vah Rudania did. He doesn’t think the Divine Beasts are doing it on purpose. At most, it’s just a failsafe to keep themselves from shutting down, something the ancient Sheikah installed long ago. There’s nothing malicious about it.

But it is frustrating.

Urbosa opens her eyes and rises gracefully from the ground. “You should not let it worry you, little bird. Tomorrow is a new day.”

Tomorrow is the third day. If Zelda cannot find a way to bring Urbosa back soon, they will go into the next loop with no better idea on how to bring everyone back than before. He has never claimed to understand the Goddess’ powers, but it looks to him like she has been doing the same thing over and over again.

“It’s still early,” Zelda protests. She does look tired, but Link agrees: these loops pass them by so fast. They need to use every hour available to them to figure out a solution.

Yet Urbosa can’t be swayed. She refuses to let Zelda continue, telling her that she will know if she does. Zelda has poured a full day’s power into her already. And Link wonders: will this also delay Urbosa’s eventual end? With Vah Naboris still brimming with energy, she isn’t at risk of disappearing just yet. 

Spending the day with Mipha allowed him to recover, and the pain has dulled to a much more manageable level. The bruises are already mostly faded and he imagines that his rib is knitting itself back together. His leg still hurts to stand on, but he’s dealt with worse.

His sleep is fine; he doesn’t think Zelda’s is. When he wakes up to the first rays of sunlight penetrating Vah Naboris, Zelda is already awake and back to work with her mouth set in a stubborn line of concentration. If only that concentration actually paid off.

Perhaps it had been foolish of them to hope that just throwing the Goddess’ power at the champions would be enough to bring them back. Only he doesn’t know what the alternative is, and Zelda doesn’t either. By evening, they’re exactly as far as they were yesterday morning.

“Little bird,” Urbosa says when Zelda and Link are eating a quick meal. She looks strangely resigned. “You should go to Mipha.”

Zelda, who was just about to take a bite from her skewer, lowers it again. “What? Why?”

“This isn’t working,” Urbosa says, and holds up a hand to forestall any protest from Zelda and Link. “Don’t argue — You know it’s not. You don’t have a lot of time left. Mipha has healing powers. If you combine your power with hers, you may find a solution.”

Zelda drops the skewer entirely, eyes wide and upset. “Urbosa, please, I can’t just give up!”

“And you aren’t. But you need a new strategy.” Urbosa crouches down in front of Zelda. “You will succeed, little bird. Perhaps not now, but I have faith in you. You will be free from this cycle and be able to live your life the way you always deserved to.”

“With you!” Zelda says desperately. She gets up and Urbosa rises with her. Link stays seated — this isn’t his conversation to intrude upon, especially since he agrees with Urbosa. 

“Go to Mipha,” Urbosa repeats. It doesn’t escape Link’s notice that she never replied to Zelda’s words. Zelda hunches in on herself. She doesn’t actually protest any further, which is enough to worry Link all over again. When he catches a glimpse of her eyes, he sees her tearing up.

“I’m sorry, I really thought I could—“ she says, but she trails off without finishing her sentence. Urbosa raises a ghostly hand towards her face.

“You will. I know it. But you must change course now, lest you waste all your time.”

“I’ll come back,” Zelda promises. Urbosa smiles down at her. 

“I know you will. I have never once lost faith in you.”

In the castle, Zelda often used to think about the last conversation she had with Mipha. How Mipha had encouraged her to think of… well, Mipha never quite got to finish that sentence, but Zelda could guess easily enough. Think of Link, think of the people they loved. It had worked, in the end. Mipha’s words may just have been the key that helped her finally unlock her powers.

She can only hope Mipha will be the breakthrough she needs once more.

Mipha was always the closest thing she had to a peer: another princess who understood the demands of the position. She was Link’s friend first and foremost, but even when Zelda was at her worst and taking out her own stress on him, Mipha never held it against her. Her presence was a calming balm throughout some of the worst days of Zelda’s life.

Seeing her again quiets some uneasy part of her heart. Surely with Mipha, and Urbosa, they’ll find the clue they need. 

“Princess, I am so happy to see you once more,” Mipha says, stepping close. Zelda wishes to reach out to her. If she didn’t know that they cannot touch… 

“Zelda, please,” she contents herself with saying. She may still be a princess, but the throne she is supposed to assume is buried under rubble, and she cannot look after Hyrule until she is finally free of this cycle. She does not wish to hear the title and she certainly does not wish to hear it from the few friends she has remaining.

“Zelda, then,” Mipha replies with a smile. Unlike Link, who needed months and months before he could say her name, she accepts easily enough. “I wish we could have met again under better circumstances, though I am led to believe that those circumstances may soon come about.”

She and Zelda both glance at Link, who looks away under the combined pressure of their looks. Something passes between them then: They must break the loops soon, lest Link break underneath the weight of them. 

Zelda gathers what little determination still remains within her. “Urbosa suggested your healing powers might be helpful to this endeavor. If you could use them, combined with the power of the Goddess, then perhaps we can find some way to bring everyone else back too.”

Mipha’s eyes widen a little. “Ah, I imagine that would…” she says to herself, but then: “Only, I don’t have my healing powers anymore. I gave them to Link.” 

Oh. Mipha’s power, the one that brings Link back from the brink of death. Zelda gestures for Link to join them. 

“Link, do you think you could…?” she asks. Link puts a hand to his chest, concentrating. He shakes his head.

“I can’t control it.”

Mipha nods. “Yes, I can only use this power for Link when he is… When he’s about to die.” Here she looks at Link with narrowed eyes, for reasons that are probably related to the limp he still walks with. Link’s eyes go distant, deep in thought.

“Can you take it back?” he asks. 

“Take it back?” Mipha repeats, uncertain. She focuses. “I… Yes, I suppose I could. But, Link, are you certain? I do not wish to leave you without protection.”

A flash of annoyance crosses Link’s face. It’s fine, he gestures. Mipha still hesitates, but Zelda nods. Hyrule is safe now, or at least much safer than it was before the Calamity’s defeat. 

“We should try it,” she tells Mipha. Mipha nods. She raises her hands to chest level and closes her eyes, concentrating. As Zelda watches, Link’s expression grows tight and his hands flutter towards his chest, where a blue glow shines through his clothes. Little by little, a small orb appears. The embodiment of Mipha’s special gift. 

It flies to Mipha, who embraces it and presses it against her own chest. She gasps, as does Link, and the orb vanishes entirely.

“Are you okay?” Zelda asks them. Link nods cautiously, hand on his chest where only Urbosa’s gift now remains. Mipha nods too.

“I feel different,” she says. “But better. I think…” She steps up to Link, hovering her hands over his shoulder. When she focuses, the glow around her intensifies. Up above them, Vah Ruta makes a grumbling noise that Mipha doesn’t heed.

Link lets out a small noise. When Mipha moves away, he straightens up, carefully putting more weight on his leg.

“How do you feel?” Mipha asks. Link nods and smiles at her.

“Better. Thank you.”

With Mipha back in possession of her gift, and the confirmation that even as a spirit, she can still use her healing powers, Zelda feels buoyed. Even though she would rather start right away, she has wasted a lot of power already, first by defeating the Calamity and then by fruitlessly attempting to bring back Daruk and Urbosa. So reluctantly, she agrees to sleep inside Vah Ruta. At least the climate here is more temperate than the cold desert nights at Naboris.

When morning comes, she has regained some energy. She isn’t anywhere near the level she was before fighting the Calamity, but she has enough for this. It must be enough. She calls upon the power and reaches out a hand to Mipha, who hovers her own hand, also glowing, near hers. She sees their powers intertwine and entangle, moving through Mipha’s body.

Mipha gasps.

“You feel it?” Zelda asks, urgently. Mipha nods, eyes slipping closed.

“It is… Far away, but yes. I feel… Stronger.”

But just when Zelda wants to increase the power flow, she feels it divert, no longer towards Mipha but into Vah Ruta. 

Again?

She cuts the flow short. Mipha opens her eyes with a startled noise. 

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s happening again,” she mutters with a glance at Link. Link nods in understanding and looks up at Vah Ruta, still and silent and almost innocuous, were it not for the fact that it is yet another Divine Beast taking the power meant for its champion.

“Whenever I’ve tried to bring back any of you — Daruk, Urbosa, now you — the Divine Beasts just… take my power,” she explains to Mipha. “I imagine they want to keep up their own power levels, but…”

Mipha frowns. She lowers her own hands and makes a half-turn, so that she is facing Vah Ruta’s main terminal. “Give me a moment,” she whispers.

She dissolves into thin air. Zelda would have panicked, if she hadn’t seen Daruk do the same thing. Watching the champions disappear like that still takes some getting used to. 

When Mipha returns, she’s looking distinctly confused.

“It’s got enough power for itself,” she says. “I asked, but… I think it can’t explain? It wanted to, definitely. But it doesn’t have the words.”

That’s putting a lot more faith in the Divine Beasts than Zelda has herself. Vah Ruta lets out a low rumble that Zelda can’t interpret but has Mipha looking sad. 

“It really wants to help.”

Zelda doesn’t intend to argue with her when time is ticking away. “We need to stop it from taking all my power,” she says. “I don’t know how the Sheikah built the Divine Beasts, but I understand they might somehow be connected to the Goddess’ power. If we can break that connection…”

“Ask Purah,” Link says. Zelda sucks in a breath. 

“Of course!” Yes, Purah can help them. If she and Purah can trace exactly where her power is going and cut off that flow, they can finally make some progress! “Link, she knows, right?” 

Link nods and holds up the Sheikah Slate. 

“Could you go get her?”

He nods again. “I’ll be right back,” he says, before taking off with the Sheikah Slate. Zelda sits down in the entrance of Vah Ruta, wishing she could have the same kind of connection with it that the champions have.

“I’m glad to hear that Purah is still around,” Mipha says, joining her. “Poor Ruta is feeling quite upset about the whole thing.”

Poor Ruta could probably stop stealing Zelda’s power. 

“I am relieved to see you doing okay,” Mipha continues. “I often wondered… When I regained sight of the outside world, I did not know whether you were dead or alive. I hoped, of course, but all I could see was that the Calamity remained contained within Hyrule Castle. I wish I could have been of more assistance to you.”

“Mipha, no! If we had understood the Divine Beasts better, I might not have sent you to your death.”

Mipha shakes her head. “You must know that you are not to blame. If it helps at all… It didn’t hurt, dying.” She falls silent, eyes far-off. “The fight hurt. Ganon’s Waterblight was vicious. But dying was more like falling into sleep.”

It is little consolation, but she can at least be glad that Mipha didn’t suffer.  Zelda sighs, looking down at her hands. “I was so glad to get another chance,” she says. “Still am, every time, but… I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. Or Link.”

“He talked to Revali, I believe,” Mipha says. Zelda nods, and they share a look of bafflement that has them both cracking up moments later.

“I suppose it is good to see them getting along,” Mipha says between giggles, magnanimous as always. “Still, though. Zelda, how about you?”

“I’m glad I could talk to all of you again. It’ll be better once you’re back.”

“You are certain that is the solution?”

No, but it is a much better guess than the Sheikah Slate was. “Even if it isn’t, having a way to bring you all back is wonderful,” she says. “I hope to go forward with all of us together again.”

“It would be,” Mipha agrees, smiling so gently. Zelda missed her so much. “I will be by your side again, Zelda. I am confident that the solution is within reach.”

Link arrives with an overly-excited Purah, who practically jumps at Zelda when she spots her. 

“Princess! Don’t mind how I look, I—“ she gains a shrewd look in her eyes. “Oh, but you already know that, don’t you? Linky here told me everything. I kept on waiting and waiting for you to come visit me, but you never did!”

Ah, same old Purah. “We need your help now, Purah,” Zelda says. “Has Link told you about—“

“Oh, about your Divine Beast problem?” Purah’s eyes fall on Mipha. “Mipha! It’s been so long, last time I came to check out Ruta, you weren’t there!”

She is not fazed in the slightest by the presence of Mipha’s spirit, nor had Zelda expected her to be. Mipha smiles, looking a little bowled over.

“Purah, it has been a very long time. If you have visited Ruta before, I’m afraid I was not aware of it.”

“Oh yes, sure, visited some of them when I could. Had to make sure nothing weird happened, you know?” She cranes her neck to stare past Zelda into the depths of Vah Ruta. “Now, let’s figure out what’s going on with you, huh? How do you wanna do this, princess?”

Zelda draws herself up. “Whenever I try to use the power of the Goddess on Mipha, Vah Ruta channels it into itself. I was hoping to find out where it went and how to cut off its access, so Mipha receives it.”

Inside Vah Ruta, as in Vah Naboris, the distress calls that Vah Medoh and Vah Rudania are sending out echo through the Divine Beast. Purah veers off towards the communications terminal, but Link stops her with an outstretched arm, shaking his head.

“It’s an old distress call,” Zelda explains. “From Vah Rudania and Vah Medoh. We… We were too late to save Daruk and Revali.” There are only a few more hours left before both Divine Beasts will shut down and even this last message will be lost.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Purah says, voice softening. “And I understand it is painful, but I would still wish to hear their message. It can tell us where the Divine Beasts got stuck.” 

She holds out a hand for the Sheikah Slate. Link hands it over with great reluctance and Purah places it into the communications terminal, activating the secondary message that the Divine Beasts have been sending out. Zelda braces herself, glancing at Mipha. Mipha said it hadn’t hurt, dying. But is she really ready to hear exactly how it happened?

“Okay, got it,” Purah says. “‘Systems failing, transfer to Maz Koshia.’ What’s Maz Koshia?”

That’s… Not at all what Zelda had expected, nor as bad, but she is just as confused as Purah. Link, who had been pacing the length of Vah Ruta’s main chamber, halts in his tracks and cautiously returns to the communications terminal.

"A Sheikah monk," he says. "From ten thousand years ago. Gave me the Master Cycle."

“Master Cycle?” Purah and Mipha ask in the same breath. Link dutifully summons it. Mipha's eyes light up with interest.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had this, Link!” she says. Link wheels it over to them so Mipha can take a closer look. On the dashboard, Zelda notices two orange warning lights. 

“It’s a Divine Beast,” he says, sounding almost embarrassed about it. Overhead, Vah Ruta lets out a rumble that sounds like a snort. Purah hums thoughtfully, abandoning the communications terminal to circle the Master Cycle instead. 

“And you got this...?”

“Underneath the Shrine of Resurrection.”

“Which Maz Koshia was the monk of. Must’ve been in charge of the healing technology.” Purah sighs. “I suppose the Divine Beasts wished for you to be saved, the way we saved Link,” she tells Mipha. “This must have been what the Sheikah intended ten thousand years ago. A champion gets hurt and they get taken to the Shrine of Resurrection to heal. I’m sorry we didn’t figure that out in time.”

“It saved Link’s life,” Mipha says with a smile. She puts a ghostly hand to Ruta’s walls. “Thank you. It was kind of you.”

The Divine Beast rumbles again. Purah steps towards the main terminal. “I’ll see if I can trace what’s going on here. Princess, can you get started? Let’s figure this out.”

Mipha holds out her hands, glowing with her healing power once more. Zelda lets her own power intertwine with it. Merely a trickle, so she doesn’t waste it faster than she can recover. It is slow-going. Purah is puzzling over the map of Divine Beast Vah Ruta, going back and forth between terminals and asking questions of Zelda and Mipha.

“There’s an additional chamber here,” she says, pointing at the main terminal. “Let me get a closer look, hold on…”

“We know,” Zelda says, not taking her eyes off the interplay of power between her and Mipha. “It’s some kind of backup generator. Is that where it’s going?”

Purah nods, frowning. “Yeah, looks like it. My ancestors did a pretty good job encrypting it, but we already know how to get through that.” She rummages through her satchel. “Knew this would come in handy!” 

What she fishes out is the same bowl-shaped device she and Zelda created before to unlock the Sheikah Slate. Of course. The Divine Beast terminals are of the same make. A thought crosses her mind.

“You don’t need any Giant Cores, do you?” she asks anxiously. Link’s face pulls into a grimace. He has fought long and hard to gather all the Giant Cores they needed for the upgrade and they cannot find any more now that Ganon is gone.

“No, should be fine.” Purah shakes her head and Zelda takes a moment’s time to thank the Goddess for this little bit of mercy. “I’m not trying to do anything to the Sheikah Slate, just figure out what this beauty’s hiding!” She pats the console, then slots in the bowl and Sheikah Slate. “Keep going, keep going!”

Purah hums her way through the slate. Zelda wants to join her, but she needs her focus to maintain the steady trickle of power so Purah can find where it’s going and shut it off. 

It is almost noon when Purah abruptly jumps down from where she’d perched herself on the terminal.

“Purah?” Zelda asks. “Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” Purah says in a remarkably queer voice. She looks from Mipha to the terminal and back again. “I do believe so.”

“Great! Could you shut it off, then?” Purah’s face is hard to read, but this is good news. With over a day left, this could finally mean some actual progress.

“Ah, princess? I really don’t think you want me to do that,” Purah says, still in that strange little voice. For the first time since Zelda’s met her, she looks entirely out of sorts. Zelda frowns and breaks the connection between her and Mipha. Mipha looks as confused as she does. Link, on the other hand, has gripped the saddle of his Master Cycle.

“Purah, why not?” Zelda asks, heading towards the terminal. Purah steps aside so Zelda can look at the screen. 

“This technology, it’s… Your Master Cycle got me thinking. If the Shrine of Resurrection houses a Divine Beast, then why wouldn’t the Divine Beasts have similar technology inside? Systems failing. That’s not an old message. And that,” Purah points at the main terminal, “is not a backup generator.” 

Over Purah’s head, Zelda sees Link go very still and very very pale. “What do you mean?” he asks sharply. Zelda looks down at the map on the Sheikah Slate with a horrified, sinking feeling. In the background, Vah Rudania and Vah Medoh’s distress calls no longer sound like mourning, but like an increasingly desperate cry for help.

“It’s a stasis chamber, and Vah Ruta has diverted all its power to keep it active. It’s been trying to help you.” Purah gestures at Mipha. “They’re not dead. They’re in there. They never died at all.”

Chapter Text

It is remarkable, Link thinks when he wakes up to the sound of Rito Village coming to life, how the world keeps going even when everything he thought he knew has been upended. Remarkable, even, how Link himself finds the energy to get out of bed and put on his boots. Grab the Sheikah Slate and tie his hair back. How he can step outside and leave the village before anyone feels the need to talk to him. How he can chase off the same pair of Moblins harassing the same traveler again.

Then he makes the mistake of turning around and looking up and — oh.

His pain is still there, and his anger. Revali is still alive, even if he doesn’t know it. In each corner of Hyrule, the Divine Beasts are waging a desperate fight to keep their champions alive until help can come for them. He has let them die.

Yesterday ended with Mipha alive but entirely out of reach. They didn’t know how to access the stasis chamber without interrupting the very processes that kept her alive. They had no way to reunite her spirit with her body. In the end, their only choice was to try again.

Zelda, after the initial shock, had actually been relieved. This was a concrete puzzle with the Sheikah tech she adored so much. It didn’t involve her mastering some nebulous aspect of her powers she couldn’t get a grasp on. It will be easier, she’d said, to wake them up than to bring them back to life.

Link could only think of all the times he’d let them die without even realizing it.

He’s frozen where he stands, staring up at the giant form of Vah Medoh. He’d thought that Revali still being alive would diminish his anger somewhat. He was wrong. Oh, perhaps Revali meant well. Daruk and Mipha certainly believed so. But any chance at an explanation, any chance at saving him had been lost because his damned pride was more important to him than his life.

His anger is a white-hot thing, and the longer he stares up at Medoh, the brighter it burns. Finally, when the image sears his eyes, he turns away. He has a slate to get fixed.

They don’t have complicated plans this time. No delayed shootings or energy-saving measures. This will not be the loop where they save the champions. He doesn’t even need to talk to them. He’s grateful for that, because how can he tell them that they’re still alive, with their bodies sealed away for over a century, like Link’s was?

The stasis chambers on the Divine Beasts can’t heal. They merely keep the champions alive until such a time that outside help can come for them. Firing their cannons had eaten up all the energy the Divine Beasts had spared to keep the chambers running. So there’s only one plan now: get the slate ready, defeat Ganon and then rip apart the Shrine of Resurrection until they know exactly how to bring the champions back.

He tears through the Guardians in Castle Town and Akkala, gathers all the cores he needs in less than a day and shows up on Purah’s doorstep by evening. 

“The champions are still alive,” he announces when she opens the door. 

“Good evening to you too,” Purah says, eyebrows raised. “That’s interesting news! How did you find out?”

“You did,” Link says. He has absolutely no time for the same song and dance again. “Me and Zelda, we’re repeating the same days. We need to save the champions.”

Purah lets out a low, impressed whistle. “That’s a lot! Come on in, tell me what you need!”

Link is glad to realize that he still remembers how to unlock the Sheikah Slate. Purah listens intently as he details the last few loops and everything they’ve done during it. When Link tells her about her discovery during the last loop, Purah lets out a delighted laugh.

“I am good,” she says, clapping her hands together. “Good job, other me! And the other ones too! We make a pretty good team!”

She snatches the Sheikah Slate from Link and starts piling cores on the table. “So I’m gonna unlock this thing, and then you and the princess go defeat the Calamity, right?” 

Link nods. Purah holds an ancient core up against the light.

“Good, good, and then we can go to the Shrine of Resurrection? We never knew there was an entire system underneath it! You’ve got to take me down there, we’ll learn so much!”

That’s what he’s counting on. “You’ll do it?”

Purah gives him an affronted look. “You even need to ask? Now shoo, I’m gonna figure out what my other selves did with this thing. I’ll let you know when I need you!”

True to her word, Purah gets to work on the slate that very evening. Link spends the night in his own bed and heads to the lab the following morning. Purah is already at work: either she woke up earlier than even Link or she didn’t sleep at all. She sends him over to Akkala, where he gets to wake up a very annoyed Jerrin and Robbie at the cusp of dawn. He doesn’t feel much sympathy for them. He’s already wasted enough time.

Purah makes good on her promise and has the slate fixed by noon the next day. Link debates waiting another day, but he’s well-rested and brimming with anxious energy that he’d love to take out on something, preferably the beast that ruined their lives a century ago. He appears in the shrine underneath the castle and methodically works his way through the assorted monsters. 

Link? Zelda asks when he appears on the walkway. How fast do you want to do this?

Link gives it a moment’s thought. “Usual way,” he decides finally. Zelda could take out the Calamity by herself, but even though they aren’t planning on going to the champions in this loop, she may still need her energy to work with the Shrine of Resurrection. 

He didn’t tell the champions anything, and so they follow the same procedure they’ve always followed. He still flinches when the four attacks of the Divine Beasts crash into the Calamity. It puts them on a deadline that they won’t beat. 

While chasing down Guardians two days ago, Link had avoided using the champions’ gifts, unable to face them with the knowledge he now holds. During this battle, that’s no longer possible. He needs their support to make it through the fight unscathed. He doesn’t have time to waste on healing himself afterwards.

He manages to be casual in the face of Daruk and Urbosa’s concern, and he doesn’t think they notice anything amiss. But Revali — he can’t face Revali, even though he needs Gale.

“What’s up with you?” Revali snaps the third time he uses Gale without even looking at him. Link keeps his gaze averted; fortunately, this is when Gale peters out. It will take time to recharge, and for once, he's thankful for that. Seeing Revali entirely oblivious to the pain he’s caused is almost enough to make him break his stride.

Despite that near-hiccup, this might be the easiest time he’s ever had of fighting Ganon. He’s fully prepared, has all the Divine Beasts in his corner and he can predict the Calamity’s attacks easily. By the time he forces the Dark Beast onto Hyrule Field, the sun is only barely setting. He chases it down across the field, firing arrow after arrow, until, again without Gale, he gets to shoot the final one into its massive, ugly head. 

Then it’s just Zelda, who seals the Calamity away in the same hasty, perfunctory way that Link himself fought this time.

When she sets foot on the grass of Hyrule Field, Link is only a little singed from some of the Calamity’s attacks and at most, he feels the need for a long drink and a five-minute time-out.

“Link? You have the slate?” Zelda asks. Link nods, tossing her the badge that lets her connect to the Sheikah Slate. She clips it onto the ruined edge of her dress with a frown.

“I really wish I could wear something else in the castle,” she laments. “It gets cold in there.”

Before, Zelda was never really aware of the world around her when she was in the castle. She has grown so much stronger now that she has time to pay attention to the world outside.

“I have clothes,” Link offers, holding up the slate. 

“Let’s just go to Hateno. I’ll change there.”

It is evening, and even though they are itching to get started, they both do need food and sleep. So when they appear in his house in Hateno, Zelda changes clothes and Link takes the time to freshen up, after which they work together on a quick meal to tide them over until morning.

There’s a certain comfort to it now. Zelda no longer feels like a guest in his house; she moves around with easy confidence, grabbing whatever they need. Where before, just having her around made him feel guilty, now he’s happy for the company.

He sends word to Purah that they’re in the village and will leave in the morning. By nightfall, the exhaustion of the fight, which he didn’t truly feel through his anger before, is finally catching up with him. But sleep is hard to come by, and he and Zelda sit on the floor for a long time, staring up at the picture of the champions. They’re still alive. It feels unreal, knowing that right now, all of them are still living and breathing, even if only barely. 

“I’m glad,” Zelda admits, toying with the Sheikah Slate. “At least this is something I can do. I’ve been wanting to figure out how the Shrine of Resurrection works for a long time.”

Link knows very little about either the Goddess’ powers or the Sheikah Technology, but at least the technology feels real and tangible. He’s experienced its effects first-hand. If it could bring him back from the brink of death, terribly wounded as he was, then it can save the champions as well.

It is almost midnight when he feels the familiar tugging in his chest, the way he becomes hollowed-out once more. In the heedy rush that is the knowledge that the champions still live, he almost forgot just how much despair losing their gifts had caused him in the past. Now, that pain feels like a habit he doesn’t know how to shake. It hurts, but it shouldn’t. All this time, he thought that the loss of their gifts marked the champions’ passing. He thought that this was the moment they were lost to him for good.

But it isn’t. The champions are still alive. They will still be alive for another few days, until the Divine Beasts inevitably run out of power to keep the life support systems running. 

“Link?” Zelda asks, sounding unsure. Link notices he’s clutching the fabric of his Hylian tunic, a habit borne from the pain of the other loops. 

“They’re—“ he begins to say, but corrects himself. “Their gifts are gone.”

Zelda nods, looking like she doesn’t know how to feel about it herself. They still live. But this also marks another step in the countdown to their inevitable deaths.

Last time, Link was still reeling from the knowledge that they still lived, that they could still be saved, when Vah Medoh’s distress call faded away. Vah Rudania’s followed soon after. For the first time, he knew exactly when Revali and Daruk had died. The Divine Beasts had tried for a hundred years to keep their champions alive, and in the end, it still hadn’t been enough.

“Do you need a drink?” Zelda asks. “I’m getting a drink.”

She gets up, hands tugging at her tunic. It is so strange, sitting here and trying to cope with the void in his chest, while knowing that this isn’t the end yet. 

“Milk,” he asks. Zelda walks down the stairs, looking grateful for something to do. She returns with milk for him and water for herself. He signs his thanks and takes a large sip. 

… Warm milk would have been better to sleep.

“I’m turning in,” Zelda says. She finishes her water in just a few big gulps and puts her cup down on Link’s dresser, right below the champions’ picture. Link feels a stab of annoyance. She could at least have taken it back down to his kitchen.

He finishes his own cup soon after and takes both downstairs pointedly. When he returns, Zelda is already under the covers, staring up at the ceiling. Link turns off the lamp, crawls into his bedroll and joins her in staring up. 

“This feels strange, doesn’t it?” she whispers into the darkness. Link nods, remembers she can’t see him and hums in reply. Knowing that the champions are still alive, kept safe by their Divine Beasts, when for so long he thought they were utterly out of reach… Tomorrow they’ll return to the place that saved Link from a death he barely remembers. He can only hope that the Divine Beasts were right and that it will be the champions’ salvation as well.

Purah appears on Link’s doorstep before Zelda is even fully awake. She groans and sits up while Link makes his way downstairs to open the door. Purah’s excited chatter is audible all the way up here and Zelda runs a quick hand through her hair so she can look somewhat presentable before Purah finds her.

“Princess!” Purah shouts when she spots her. Link winces at the volume. “Hey, hey, you already know why I look like this, right?”

“I do,” Zelda says. “Good morning, Purah. Link has told you what’s going on?”

“I could use some more detail!” Purah shouts back. Zelda ties her hair into a low ponytail and makes her way downstairs, accepting the breakfast Link offers her with a quick signed thanks. 

“Have you eaten?” she asks Purah. Purah makes a face.

“Symin wouldn’t let me leave if I didn’t. I’m more than twice his age!”

Zelda privately agrees with Symin. Even a century ago, Purah was notoriously bad at remembering to eat, something that drove Impa up the wall. Zelda joins Link at the table with her breakfast. Purah hovers next to her, taking her in.

“I could hardly believe it, you know,” she says. For once, she doesn’t sound like the six-year-old she looks like, but the woman who remembers a full century that Zelda only got flashes of. “The fact that we missed something so momentous…”

“None of us knew, not even the champions themselves,” Zelda tries to console her. “And we still have time now. We can fix it.”

Purah has a great many questions over breakfast, mostly about all the things they’ve already tried in the previous loops. When she and Link finish up, Purah is already theorizing loudly. Her main interest lies in Link’s Master Cycle Zero and the chambers they never discovered underneath the Shrine of Resurrection. Zelda is no different. The mystery of an entire Divine Beast tucked away underneath the Shrine of Resurrection is something she’s been thinking about on and off ever since Link revealed its existence, and it’s looking like it might just be what they need to bring everyone back..

They warp to the Shrine of Resurrection when the sun is only just crossing the horizon. Even so, going from the steadily-waking village to the near-complete silence of the Great Plateau is eerie. The last time she and Link were here, they were only just starting to find out how to break free of this cycle. It seems fitting that they return here to find their remaining answers.

“Ah, it’s been a while,” Purah says, running a hand over the pedestal that housed the Sheikah Slate. She sounds wistful. “We tried checking up on you every once in a while, you know,” she tells Link. “Wasn’t easy to get onto the Plateau, though. Especially not when I became like this.” 

She gestures down at the body of her six-year-old self. Link nods solemnly. There’s something hallowed about the Shrine of Resurrection. This is the place that saved Link when he was on the brink of death.

Zelda nears the healing bed that makes up the most important part of the shrine. Back before the Calamity’s appearance, they had only just figured out how to activate its healing properties. They didn’t know how the shrine actually worked, only that it ran on the ancient energy that also powered the Divine Beasts. After it was sealed off to protect Link, Purah and Robbie didn’t get another chance to figure out its secrets. And they always missed the presence of a far bigger space right underneath, one that only Link managed to discover. 

“Okay then,” Purah says. She tugs Link over to the pedestal that housed the Sheikah Slate. “Let’s hope Maz Koshia was really good at keeping records! Can we go down there?”

Link frowns. “Yes, but there are Guardians inside,” he says. “I will go first. Clear it out.”

His expression brokers no argument, although Zelda would love to see those Guardians up close. He takes the Sheikah Slate and places it on the pedestal, triggering a blue light and then an almighty shudder that goes through the entire shrine. Zelda stumbles, as does Purah. She looks around wildly, but Link isn’t concerned. They are descending, she realizes. When they finally stop moving, the old entrance is no longer visible and a new one has taken its place. Link unsheathes his sword and goes through it, leaving Zelda and Purah alone in the first portion of the Shrine of Resurrection.

“So, princess,” Purah says. She has recovered almost immediately. “You said the Divine Beasts were using your gift to keep their stasis chambers powered? Think you can use it on the shrine here?”

It’s not like they have anything better to do while waiting for Link. Zelda squints at the bed and puts a hand on its edge. Up above is the lid-shaped cover that would have sealed Link during the Slumber of Restoration. She sends a pulse of power into it and the topmost part lights up like a beacon. The bright glow lasts for a few minutes before fading away again. Purah hums and makes note of it. 

“Sure wish we could have tested this while Link was still in here,” she says. “D’you think it would have sped up his recovery?”

If it had, Link might not have lost a century of his life and most of his memories. But Zelda had been trapped in the castle with no way to reach him. 

Purah’s words raise another worrying possibility, one she’s loath to share with Link. What if the champions wake up with all of their memories missing, like Link did? What if they don’t remember anything about the battle against the Calamity, or Link and Zelda and everyone else? Unlike Link, the champions were able to retain some form of consciousness throughout the years. Will it be enough?

She should be satisfied with them just being alive again. Everything else will come later. But the thought of Urbosa not knowing her, or Mipha, is a terrifying possibility. It had been bad enough when Link didn’t remember her. Even though she feels secure in calling them friends now, she knows he will never get back large parts of the memories they made together before the Calamity arose.

“Do you think my power could heal them fully?” Zelda asks Purah. Last time, they had figured out that the stasis chambers were merely that: chambers that kept the champions suspended between life and death. The Divine Beasts made a desperate effort to seal their champions away right before Ganon’s Blights could kill them, and they paid for it by losing every other part of themselves to the Blights. 

So the champions inside the chambers are alive, but only barely. If they wish to bring them back, they will need to fix the damage of Ganon’s monsters in one fell swoop. She doesn’t know if it’s healthy or even possible. But they only have very little time. She still doesn’t know how much power she needs.

Link reappears half an hour later, face grim. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and gestures at the main entrance with the Master Sword, still unsheathed. “It’s clear,” he says. Zelda feels a rush of excitement go through her. The hidden chambers underneath the Shrine of Resurrection, finally! 

She and Purah follow Link through the entrance, into the true Shrine of Resurrection. Maz Koshia Shrine, if the Divine Beasts are to be believed.

The reason for Link’s grim expression becomes immediately obvious when they step into the bowels of this strange shrine-cum-Divine Beast. From the middle of the room, she hears the familiar distress calls of the other Divine Beasts. They were already painful to hear when she believed them to be repeating a long-past message, or mourning the champions lost to them. Now she can almost hear the Divine Beast’s desperate cries for help and knows there is nothing they will be able to do about it during this loop. 

Purah looks interested. Zelda has to remind herself that she doesn’t actually remember any of the previous loops. 

“Those are the distress calls,” she says. Purah’s eyes widen and she makes a soft sound of comprehension. 

“We could turn them off,” she offers, glancing between Link and Zelda. Link gives this serious consideration before nodding. However much it pains Zelda to ignore the Divine Beasts’ calls like this, they cannot be hampered by the constant reminder that the champions are dying this very second, not when they are trying to save them. 

“I’ll do it,” Link says. He makes his way towards the communications terminal of the Divine Beast and turns around, facing them again. “You go—“ 

He gestures at the whole of the Divine Beast around them, looking a little helpless. Zelda nods. She’s eager to explore the whole of the Divine Beast, but their time is limited. They need a structured approach if they want to figure out the fastest way to saving the champions

In the distance, a glowing blue cube draws her attention. She nudges Link.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing. Link follows her outstretched hand and goes a little pale.

“Maz Koshia,” he says. “Usually they disappear. Didn’t expect him to still—“ He shakes his head.

“The monk?” Zelda asks, feeling awed. An actual Sheikah Monk, still here after 10 000 years? Link told her about the monks in the shrines, but since he had been so thorough in his exploration of Hyrule, none remained for Zelda to study. She wonders if she could still talk to him.

“It’s dangerous,” Link says, voice low. “He attacked me, last time I came here.”

Zelda shudders. She had hoped to learn more about the events from 10 000 years ago and how the Divine Beasts were connected to one another, but she does not wish to deal with a fight right now. Perhaps later, when all this is over and she can have Link by her side. 

From the communications terminal, the distress calls of the Divine Beast still echo. Link turns towards it and squares his shoulders, marching over with heavy tread. Zelda tears her eyes away from the Sheikah monk and points Purah towards the nearest chamber. She has work to do. 

—Acknowledged—, Link enters into the communications terminal of his very own Divine Beast, and then, with a stab of pain, —Unable to comply—.

The distress calls of the Divine Beasts immediately change in pitch, becoming even more frantic. Link closes his eyes. His hands hover over the terminal, but he has no way to send anything more complicated than the standard messages programmed into the Divine Beasts, not when the champions aren’t able to hear them. Sorry, he signs at the terminal, and then shuts it off.

The entire room is plunged into a deep, lingering silence. In the distance, Zelda and Purah look over. He makes a weak okay signal with his left hand, but just when he wants to rejoin them, the communications terminal starts up again. This time, it’s just a single call. Vah Ruta. 

It takes Link a moment to figure out why the message sounds so disjointed to him, why he cannot find the rhythm even when he taps it out. —Please acknowledge receipt— he makes out after a few seconds, the first sequence of it squashed up with another message, broken, as if Vah Ruta started transmitting one message and then cut it off abruptly. He frowns, listens harder, tries to tap out the first part again. It’s not any kind of meaningful message, just…

—L—

—LPlease acknowledge receipt—

Link, please acknowledge receipt.

His heart skips a beat. He smashes the Sheikah Slate against the communications terminal, scrolling through its logs. If Ruta is still sending out a personalized message, if Mipha is still sending out a message, then maybe—

But no. His heart sinks. The logs are clear: Mipha did try sending a message— half a day ago, long before he lost her gift and Vah Ruta could no longer keep her conscious. Vah Ruta just started sending it again as, what? Petty revenge for turning off the other messages just now?

He wonders what got her so worried. He didn’t talk to Mipha at all during this loop. Her last impression of him should still be their last meeting right before these loops started. Unless…

Dammit, Revali.

Even now, Revali still has to go behind his back and talk to the other champions. If he was so worried, couldn’t he have sent a message himself? Link shuts the terminal down unceremoniously and snatches the Sheikah Slate away.

Zelda and Purah have disappeared from sight, but Link hears their voices echoing through the chamber: Purah’s loud and boisterous; Zelda’s softer but with an underlying thrill of excitement that Link only ever hears when she is in the presence of the Sheikah technology she loves so much. It gives him some courage. Whereas Zelda was never quite comfortable with the powers that were supposed to be her birthright, this is where she is truly in her element. Here she can figure out the puzzle that is keeping the champions from them. 

It has been well over a year since Link opened his eyes in the Shrine of Resurrection, weak and confused with only the voice in his head imploring him to wake up. How can they bring the champions here before the Divine Beasts lose all their energy? Oh, he can ask them to hold off on firing the cannons again. But what if they don’t listen? 

He turns his back to the communications terminal, hands clenched. Every time he thinks he’s over his anger, it comes roiling back in waves. Even if they thought they were doing the right thing — even if Revali thought he was doing the right thing — why couldn’t they just have followed the plan?

He had to hear Revali die.

Mere days ago, he had to hear Vah Medoh’s distress call fade out and know it signified the death of Champion Revali of the Rito. He had been in Revali’s presence so often, never knowing that he was still alive deep within Vah Medoh. If Revali had known himself that he was still alive, would that have changed his decision? Or would he still have fired Vah Medoh, with no regard for Link’s wishes or feelings?

“Link, do you have a moment?” Zelda calls from a few rooms over. Link shakes himself out of his anger, grateful for the distraction, and heads back. He finds Zelda and Purah huddled around another terminal, studying it closely. 

“There’s no main terminal here, right?” Zelda asks. Link thinks back. No, four terminals and the communications terminal he just came from. He points to the room they entered from. Zelda nods. 

“The shrine itself is the main terminal. Oh, we should have known…” She sighs. Then, to Purah, she says: “If the stasis chambers are underneath the main terminals of the Divine Beasts, we need to figure out how to open them.”

“But only once we have the technology to bring them back,” Purah replies. They devolve into a discussion that Link doesn’t quite understand, but that involves breaking down parts of the Shrine of Resurrection to transport directly to the Divine Beasts. That does sound like a much safer plan than bringing the champions to the Shrine of Resurrection. Link has no particular attachment to these chambers. If taking them apart is the way to save the champions, then by all means. 

Purah and Zelda spend the full day going through the Divine Beast, calling upon his help several times to reach the different terminals until Zelda figures out how to turn off the defense mechanisms. Down below, there’s no way to tell the passing of time so Link only realizes how late it’s become when he gets ahold of the Sheikah Slate again and notices the hour indicated.

“It is almost midnight,” he tells Zelda when she reaches for the Sheikah Slate again. Zelda lowers her hands, reluctantly, but common sense prevails. They make it topside again and move back to Hateno Village, where Zelda tries to explain the day’s discoveries to Link.

“It’s quite fascinating, really,” she tells him. Link finds himself laughing, to his own surprise. “The Shrine of Resurrection must have been the central command center for all the Divine Beasts at one point. Those four terminals inside are each connected to one of the other Beasts. I believe this is also why your Master Cycle is so small. It is an extension of the Shrine. It probably served as field command for your ancestor, Link.”

The Hero Who Defeated The Darkness ten thousand years ago. Even less is known about this predecessor of Link’s than about the sages and princesses and queens who came before Zelda. All they know is that he existed and that he defeated the Calamity with the help of the Sheikah and the Divine Beasts. 

“If they weren’t so gravely wounded, we could probably bring them to the Shrine of Resurrection one by one,” Zelda continues, sighing. “But I fear that even the slightest interruption in the stasis chambers’ energy supply would mean their deaths.”

“How long will it take?” he asks her. This is his greatest fear. Link spent a century in the healing bed of the Shrine of Resurrection. Will it take the champions another century as well, and will they only awaken once Link and Zelda have long passed on already? Or will they, like Link, lose all memory of the people they knew? Will they forget Link?

Zelda bites her lip. “I am not sure. Our hope is that my power can speed up the healing process drastically, once we can connect the technology of the Shrine of Resurrection to the Divine Beasts. If that is not possible…” 

In her eyes, Link sees his own doubts reflected. How much time will they need? And, if it is more than the five days they have, will the Goddess allow it? 

“Tomorrow, we would like to bring Robbie along with us. He knows how to dismantle the ancient technology safely,” Zelda says. “And we should go to a Divine Beast. See how we can connect it.”

The champions are not yet dead. For a moment, Link feels a cruel flash of hope: can they save them here and now? Zelda sees it too. 

“I could try now, but…” she looks unsure. “I don’t want to experiment with their lives. What if I try something and I only end up causing them more pain? I would rather have everything figured out first.”

Back when they didn’t know the champions were still alive, this wasn’t a concern. Now Link imagines the ancient technology harming the champions and shudders. Yes, better that Zelda and Purah know what they’re doing before they attempt to return any of the champions to life. And besides, would it not be cruel, to bring one of them back for just this brief span of time? Better they wake all of them up at the same time and be done with this cycle once and for all.

“You sure weren’t lying in your letters,” Robbie says when Link, Zelda and Purah appear at the Akkala lab the next morning. Despite the early hour, he looks wide awake and ready to go. “I thought your handwriting got so bad because you got old, but you were just relearning motor control! Hey Jerrin, have you seen Purah yet?”

Jerrin appears in the doorway next to her husband. Her eyes slide over Zelda — a princess who disappeared long before she was born — but widen when she spots Purah. “Lady Purah! You look… different?”

Purah, Link thinks, mostly looks annoyed. “I did tell you, didn’t I? I’ll be back to normal in no time! Now are you ready or what?”

Robbie laughs and snatches the badge that Purah tosses at him. “Sure am! Always happy to use my own work.”

Jerrin declines to join them, so a few minutes later, the four of them find themselves back into the Shrine of Resurrection. Link is quick to take them back to the lower level of the shrine. There’s little he can do once Zelda, Purah and Robbie charge into the shrine, so he sits back in the first chamber, next to the healing bed. That means he gets to spend the morning watching how the three of them drag in cables and power lines and disparate pieces of equipment that were once a part of the Divine Beast’s interior. He wonders if that will affect the workings of the Master Cycle and then decides he doesn’t actually care, as long as it brings the champions back to them.

By late afternoon, Robbie has assembled a device that reminds Link of a small Guardian Scout most of all. He has connected it to the healing bed of the Shrine of Resurrection and Zelda is sending intermittent pulses of her power through it, making the whole thing light up in waves. Purah is checking the output with the Sheikah Slate.

“Yeah, definitely increasing its power,” she says, nodding in satisfaction. “Though of course we’ll need to use it in an actual Divine Beast. And it’s gonna take more power than this — those stasis chambers can only do limited healing, right?”

“They only keep them alive,” Zelda says. Link thinks of the Blights that took over the Divine Beasts and how the Divine Beasts must have divided their energy between keeping the champions alive and keeping the Blights from taking full control. Was this why the Divine Beasts began rampaging after so many years of stillness? Because they had to choose between keeping the Blights in check and keeping their champions alive? If so, Link is grateful that they chose the latter.

“Tomorrow then!” Purah says. “Oh, where should we go? Vah Rudania?”

It takes Link a moment to realize that she’s joking; knowing Purah, she might as well not be. Zelda laughs softly.

“Vah Ruta seems like a more comfortable option, for the time being,” she says. “Link, do you think we can store this in the Sheikah Slate?”

Link shrugs. There doesn’t seem to be any limit on what the Sheikah Slate can store, so why not? He gestures for her to go ahead, eyeing the device. He can only trust that this combination of the ancient technology and Zelda’s power will work. If they are going to Vah Ruta tomorrow… Link knows there is no point in healing one champion if they cannot heal the other ones at the same time, but still. But still.

Entering Vah Ruta without Mipha’s spirit there is uncomfortable; knowing that she’s still alive just below their feet even more so. Purah and Robbie rush over to the main terminal and Zelda follows, more sedate to hide her nerves. Robbie’s work should function. It worked just fine on the healing bed in the Shrine of Resurrection. Just from Purah’s readings alone, combining Zelda’s power with the bed could have cut down Link’s one-hundred year sleep to just a few days. That still isn’t enough to bring all the champions back in time, but Zelda hasn’t used all her power yet. She has to trust that the Goddess will grant her the power she needs.

Zelda doesn’t have much trust in the Goddess left.

Within Vah Ruta, the other Divine Beasts’ distress calls still resonate. Zelda glances at Link, who grits his teeth and veers off to turn off Vah Ruta’s communications module. When he tries, however, the calls just pick up again.

Zelda pauses, shooting him a questioning glance. Link tries again, but the calls come back after mere seconds of silence. Link bows his head and steps away, gesturing something at the terminal Zelda doesn’t catch.

“Ruta doesn’t let me,” he says when he rejoins Zelda. “I think only Mipha can.”

It makes sense, Zelda thinks ruefully. The Divine Beast underneath the Shrine of Resurrection is Link’s, but Vah Ruta has only ever listened to Mipha. She places a hand on Vah Ruta’s walls, the way she saw Mipha do days ago.

“I’m sorry,” she tells it. “We are trying to help, I promise. Will you let us?”

Vah Ruta rumbles. Zelda has no idea if that indicates agreement or not. Mipha would know. Mipha, so close and yet so very far.

“Hey princess, come give us a hand!” Purah shouts from the chamber with the main terminal. Zelda hurries over. Robbie and Purah have already unloaded their device from the Sheikah Slate. It’s not actually all that big, as far as those things go. Perhaps the size of the small Guardian Scout Zelda faced in Oman Au shrine weeks ago. Yet it contains all the technology that makes the Shrine of Resurrection into a healing chamber, instead of the mere stasis chambers that house the champions. 

With Robbie’s help, she connects it to Vah Ruta’s main terminal. Purah, meanwhile, is hard at work on the terminal itself, having combined it once more with the Sheikah Slate and the device that allowed them to unlock it. She grows silent as she reads the data output.

“They really are in there, huh?” she says. Zelda nods. They are, and still alive, for a good few more hours at least.

“If we’d known…” Purah sighs. Zelda shakes her head. Even if Purah and Robbie had known, then what? They couldn’t have taken apart the Shrine of Resurrection, not with Link there. And they couldn’t have awakened the champions without incurring the wrath of the Blights that had taken over the Divine Beasts.

“Okay, ready!” Robbie announces. Zelda takes a deep breath and goes to kneel in front of Robbie’s device, placing her hands on both sides of it. This will channel her power through it and activate its healing properties. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Link standing to the far side of the room, tense and focused. She turns her attention back to the device and calls up her power. The device glows, and the main terminal of Vah Ruta glows along with it.

“Is it working?” she asks after several charged seconds. Purah frowns down at the Sheikah Slate.

“Yes and no?” she says. Zelda feels her heart sink. “I mean, it should work. Vah Ruta is definitely absorbing your power. It’s just… The healing isn’t activating? We’re just powering up the stasis chamber now.”

Like before, when Ruta took all her energy so it could keep Mipha alive longer. Then what did they even build this device for?

“What’s blocking it?” Robbie asks. Purah is silent for several long moments, tapping away at the Sheikah Slate with a steadily-deepening frown.

“Vah Ruta isn’t allowing access. There should be something— a code, a key, I don’t know. Something that lets us access the stasis chamber.”

“Of course,” Zelda says, more to herself than to Purah or Robbie. Last time, they hadn’t been able to open the stasis chamber at all. At the time, she’d thought it was because Ruta didn’t want them to interrupt the flow of power. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? If the champions are so badly wounded that they need the stasis chambers to save their lives, than anyone trying to open them might just as easily be foe as friend. Of course the Divine Beasts wouldn’t just allow anyone in. 

… But what is the key?

Once more, she curses their lack of knowledge. Her ancestor ten thousand years ago would have known. 

Link, who’s been following the procedures from the far side of the room all this time, comes to stand by her side, looking deep in thought. “Yesterday,” he says, then needs a few moments to gather his words. “You said that the Shrine of Resurrection, that it’s a command center. For the Divine Beasts. So perhaps—“

“Oh! Yes!” Zelda says, realization dawning. She smiles widely. “Yes, that could be it! Purah, we’ll need to go back to the shrine.”

The four terminals inside the Shrine of Resurrection are linked to the four Divine Beasts. Suddenly it makes sense just how inaccessible these terminals were until they managed to turn off the defense mechanisms. The Chosen Hero — if, indeed, he was their commander — could turn them off easily. But an outside force that somehow managed to break its way in? Those mechanisms might be enough to deter them.

The Shrine of Resurrection is still just as they left it the day before. They make a beeline for Ruta’s terminal, but when Zelda links the Sheikah Slate to it, she’s met with another problem. There’s definitely a lock there, preventing her from accessing it to its fullest potential. But no matter how she tries, it doesn’t unlock for her, nor for Purah or Robbie. 

“Let me,” Link says, gently nudging her aside. Zelda wants to protest — if none of them can figure it out even with all their knowledge, why would Link be able to? But before she can, the Sheikah Slate lights up at Link’s touch and the terminal glows along with it.

Of course. This is still Link’s Divine Beast. The Hero of Legend who probably served as the main commander of the Divine Beasts all these centuries ago. She leans over Link’s shoulder, guiding him through the Sheikah Slate until the terminal releases the keys to Vah Ruta with a happy little chirp. They’re on the Sheikah Slate now, ready to be deployed and finally gain access to the stasis chambers that seal away the champions.

But they have dithered too long. When Link checks the communications terminal, his face falls. Zelda opens the map on the Sheikah Slate to confirm what she already knows: Vah Naboris, Vah Rudania and Vah Medoh have all become inaccessible. They have shut down. Their champions are dead.

Vah Ruta is still there, running on the little bit of extra energy Zelda gave it earlier, but even that won’t last much longer.

She takes a deep breath. They knew this, she reminds herself. They knew that this wouldn’t be the loop where they saved the champions. But knowing the exact time of their deaths is a far worse blow than she anticipated. 

Link steps away from the terminal, hands clenched and head bowed. Zelda wants to go to him and talk to him, but his expression makes it clear that he won’t appreciate it. 

“Should we get the other keys too?” Robbie asks, voice subdued. He’s never experienced the pain that is losing the champions, but he seems to recognize it all the same. Zelda nods, distant. It’s too late to go to the other Divine Beasts. But having Link know how to unlock each terminal will be good for next loop, when he’ll have to explain it alone without Zelda around.

Link turns on his heels and marches over to Vah Naboris’ terminal. Zelda glances back at the communications terminal. Next time, she promises, and hopes with all her heart that she’ll be able to make it true.

“Well, it works,” Purah announces, though even her voice is unusually quiet. They are back on Vah Ruta, where Link got to see her and Zelda connect the Sheikah Slate and unlock the stasis chamber keeping Mipha from them. “I could open it, if you want—?”

Link feels himself grow pale, hands clammy. Ruta, following the other Divine Beasts’ example, lost power not long before they got back. Accessing the stasis chamber now would only mean finding a corpse. Or… Or would Mipha be different? Would her healing powers be enough to keep herself alive after Vah Ruta powered down, if only for a little bit?

“No, that’s okay,” Zelda says, sounding as shaken as Link feels. He’s glad she’s taken the decision out of his hands. “It’s good to know that it works. We should probably…” She swallows. Her voice gains some strength. “We should probably plan for our next steps. Purah, Robbie: Link will need to learn how to create this device before tomorrow evening. Can you write it down?”

Purah nods, disconnecting the Sheikah Slate from the terminal and gesturing for Robbie to follow her. Zelda walks over to Link instead.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she mutters. Link follows her back outside, where they stand on one of Ruta’s walkways, above the water of its little lake.

“We need a plan for next time,” Zelda says, looking out over Rutala River and at Mount Lanayru rising up in the distance. Link nods.

“It should be during the fight,” Zelda continues. She’s not meeting his eyes. “I’ve been thinking. If they fire, I fear my power will not be sufficient to seal the Calamity and also bring them back. But if they don’t…” 

“I can fight Ganon without them.”

Zelda swallows. She’s not meeting his eyes. “Link, I… I’m sorry, but I think Mipha was right, last time. You need their support. Ganon is too dangerous to fight all on your own.”

Link pushes down against his rising anger. He fails. “I’ll be fine,” he grits out.

“You weren’t,” Zelda says. “Please, Link. I don’t even know what Mipha saw, or Daruk or Revali. But Ganon almost killed you. We cannot let that happen, so please—“

Fine, Link signs, his anger making the gesture sharp. Fine, if no one can trust him to fight the Calamity on his own, even if it’s to save their lives. Fine, he’ll play it their way. “How?”

Zelda lets out a little relieved sigh. “When you fight Ganon, I will need the Sheikah Slate to wake up the Champions. I’ll pick up Robbie and Purah, get everything ready… Once they’re back, they can help you. It’ll be okay to fire then.”

Without the Sheikah Slate, he won’t have access to his weapons and healing items. He’ll only have what he can carry. Link supposes that, in that case, having the champions’ support wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“Revali first,” he says. Oh, he still isn’t over that, how Revali just had to break his promise. How he never even bothered to explain himself to Link afterwards.

“Revali first,” Zelda agrees. “Then Daruk, and Mipha, and Urbosa.”

Putting Urbosa last clearly pains her, but Link agrees. She was the only one who never even considered firing and jeopardizing their whole plan. 

“You’ll lose their gifts when they wake up,” Zelda continues. “Is that okay?”

That’s more than okay for Link. He’s lost their gifts so many times now already. If it means that the champions are actually back, he will happily give their gifts up for good.

“Medoh,” he says, thinking of the way it’s perched above Rito Village, how Revali’s showmanship made the main terminal entirely inaccessible for anyone who can’t fly. “It needs to move.”

“Oh yes, certainly,” Zelda says. “There are other vantage points near Rito Village, I imagine. Will you ask him?”

It means talking to Revali, even though Link’s anger is still a snarling mass in his stomach. But he would’ve had to do that anyway. It’s fine, it’s fine. He can keep his anger in check until Revali is safe again.

There is just one more night remaining before they return to the castle, and Zelda thinks they have it figured out. The technology works; they know how to build the connection that will allow her to turn the stasis chambers into a genuine healing bed. She trusts that Link can hold off the Calamity until she has healed all the champions. But still, she has lingering questions. She knows Link would tell her not to, but she cannot help it. From the moment they entered the Shrine of Resurrection, her attention has been drawn to the Sheikah Monk encased on the far end of the Divine Beast.

She waits until she is absolutely certain that Link is asleep before sneaking off with the Sheikah Slate. Her ruse won’t go undetected. Link is too shallow a sleeper for him not to notice her disappearance eventually. But she has to know, and without the slate, Link cannot catch up with her. Shamefully, she’s reminded of all those times she tried to leave him behind. But this is just once, and just until she has the answers she needs.

She heads outside, closing the door gently behind her, and opens the map of the Sheikah Slate. There is the familiar icon of the Shrine of Resurrection. She hits it before doubt can overtake her mind.

At night, only the healing bed provides any light in the dark shrine. Zelda swallows and slots the slate into its pedestal. She grabs onto the pedestal when the room closes off and starts moving, taking her down into the Divine Beast again.

Here, alone, the place is other-worldly. She takes the Sheikah Slate with her and enters the main room again, ducking past the lava flow and onwards, past the communications terminal until she is standing in front of the glowing cube that houses the Sheikah monk. Link hadn’t let her approach him before. Up close, he looks desiccated, a skeletal creature that makes her heart go cold just looking at him. But she has so many questions, and the Goddess has never once answered her. This may be the closest thing she has instead.

She steels her nerves and reaches out her left hand to touch the cube, keeping her power gathered into her right. It shatters on impact, startling her into taking a step back.

Avatar of the Goddess. This is not your place.

Zelda draws back her hand and clenches her fist. The monk in front of her has not moved, even though Link assured her he can.

“Sheikah Monk, I beg for your assistance.”

An eerie, ghostly chuckle reverberates in her mind. She resists the urge to look around. The Divine Beast is Link’s: this is what the monk means by telling her this is not her place. Does the shrine have defense mechanisms they haven’t discovered yet?

What assistance would the Goddess beg from this humble monk?

The address makes her hair stand on end. She is not the Goddess. She has merely inherited a power she still doesn’t fully understand. 

“The Goddess doesn’t talk to me,” she says, angrier than she intended. She has prayed and prayed and prayed and never once has the Goddess answered her. All she has done is trap her and Link in this awful cycle. 

The Goddess answers our prayers. But perhaps, child, it is not in the shape you expected.

What is that supposed to mean? Any fear she felt for this monk is replaced by frustration. She tried so many rituals, and in the end it cost her everyone she loved before she could make use of the power that should have been hers by right. 

“Why has She trapped us like this?” Zelda asks. “What does She want from us?”

From me, she doesn’t say. Again, the Sheikah Monk chuckles, a sound Zelda is coming to detest.

Is it not obvious, child? I have seen you at work. You have already figured out the technology we created so many years ago. You would not have possessed the keys to undoing this injustice wrought upon you without the Goddess’ help, would you?

“Yes, but—“ Zelda struggles for words. Bringing the champions back is undeniably a good thing. It is more than she ever could have hoped for when Link freed her from the castle that very first time. But she still doesn’t understand… Why would the Goddess go to all this effort for four people who fell in battle, when She didn’t interfere during the rise of the Calamity at all? Thousands of people died in Central Hyrule. Entire villages were wiped clean off the map. Why not them?

I cannot fathom the reasons of the Goddess, child. But know this: a wish — a shared wish — is a powerful thing. And you and the Chosen Hero have more power than you believe. 

A wish? Sure, she has wished to see the champions again. But she has wished so many other things too. Can it really be that easy?

“We’re right, then? The way to break free is to revive the champions?”

If that is your wish, child, then yes. 

Ugh. She can only hope that this monk is right. She’s starting to agree with Link that he’s far more trouble than he’s worth, even if he hasn’t yet tried to attack her.

The monk moves, so sudden that Zelda throws up her right arm as protection. But he merely lowers his hands and raises his head. Even with the veil covering his face, she feels him looking straight at her.

It pained us, to see our research discarded, our work destroyed. We sealed ourselves in these shrines in the hopes that a future generation would be able to make use of our knowledge once more. We were happy that the latest incarnation of the Goddess took our work so seriously. And we are sorry, that it failed you in those crucial moments.

“That’s—“ Zelda starts to say, but she doesn’t know how to continue. Actual emotion, a deep pain, now shows in the monk’s words. Great injustice was done to the Sheikah by an ancestor of hers so distant that history has erased all record of his name. And because of it, their technology failed them when they needed it most. 

The shrines, the Divine Beasts, they were brought forth from the minds of brilliant people and imbued with the power of the Goddess. The technology and the power are inextricably entwined. Any attempt to forgo one in favor of the other will only lead to tragedy. You must remember this.

An indictment of her father. And also, an indictment of Zelda herself. Zelda closes her eyes. 

“I… thank you for your guidance,” she says, even though the monk’s words caused her more frustration than anything else. The monk raises his hands back to their original position.

You and the Chosen Hero have come a long way. You must not falter now, child. You hold all the keys to make your wish come true.

Zelda returns to Hateno feeling deeply unsettled and runs into Link as soon as she opens the door.

“Where’d you go?” he snaps, his eyes narrowed with anger and worry. He looks at the Sheikah Slate she holds in hand — no use pretending that she just needed some fresh air, then. 

“I thought of something,” she says. “I just wanted to confirm my theory, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Link doesn’t buy it. “Should’ve woken me up,” he mutters, hands moving in agitation. Zelda tries to look contrite. She isn’t sure whether her conversation with the Sheikah monk was helpful at all, or if it was worth worrying Link for. At least she now has confirmation that healing the champions and waking them up will be what breaks this loop.

It is still very early — the sun hasn’t started to rise yet. Link casts her a suspicious look, but when it’s clear he won’t get anything more out of her, he steps aside to let her inside the house and gestures up at the bed. His meaning is clear: out of all of them, Zelda is the one who needs sleep most. Link, instead, will spend another full day with Purah learning exactly which parts of the Shrine of Resurrection need dismantling and have to be brought to the champions when the battle starts.

She spares time for breakfast, but crawls back into bed soon after. Her impromptu trip to the Shrine of Resurrection did leave her tired. She hears more than she sees Link leave, taking the Sheikah Slate with him. Then she’s alone, staring up at the ceiling of Link’s house and studiously avoiding the picture of the champions in front of her. 

Last time they tried this, it was with only a vague concept of giving the champions form again by using the power of the Goddess. Now, knowing that they are alive, the plan is both simpler and far more complex. But unlike last time, Link gets to face the Calamity with the support of the champions. It makes her rest a little bit easier.

She wakes up to Link returning. Outside, the sun is setting. Her stomach grumbles; she slept through lunch.

“Did Purah explain everything?” she asks. Link nods, placing the Sheikah Slate on the table. He looks pale, but determined. Wordlessly, they help each other with dinner. Two loops ago, on their last day in Hateno Village, they had been cautiously hopeful that they could bring the champions back to life. Now they know the champions were never dead to begin with. They have it figured out now. If all goes well, tomorrow is the very last time she’ll ever wake up in the castle again.

“You don’t need to try defeating Ganon,” she tells Link. “Just stall until they’re all back, okay?” 

Link nods. He’s been even more taciturn than usual since he came back from Purah, a lot like the Link who first freed her from the castle. 

“I talked to Maz Koshia, last night,” she confesses. Link raises an eyebrow in silent judgment, and Zelda laughs bashfully. “Yes, I know, but he was fine. Just… frustrating.”

She takes a deep breath. “But we’re right. Saving the champions will break the loop. So—“ She reaches out and takes Link’s hand. “One more time?”

Link tightens his hand around hers. He smiles, just a faint shadow.

“One more time.” 

Chapter Text

It’s not that he dislikes Cecili. She is friendly in the way that innkeepers all across Hyrule are, always happy to see him and offer him a place to sleep. But, Link thinks when he wakes up to the rising sun and cold Hebra winds again, after this it will be a very, very long time before he ever goes back to the Swallow’s Roost.

One more time. Then this will all be over.

He spends a long time writing down everything he recalls Purah explaining to him. It’s a lot — on top of the Sheikah Slate upgrade, there is also the device that will finally allow them to heal the champions. That means he’s almost too late to chase away the red Moblins harassing the Hylian traveler again. But he manages in time, and as he tucks away his spicy elixir, he wonders how long it will take before the man realizes that his outfit is entirely unfit for the Hebra mountains. If there is no next time…

“Your clothes,” he says. The traveler, still glancing around nervously for more Moblins, is slow to turn back to him.

“Oh, did you want to know where I got them? They’re really warm!”

Link shakes his head. Honestly, he wouldn’t make it five meters past the Flight Range. “Not warm enough. You need—” He plucks at his own Snowquill tunic, then points towards Rito Village. “They sell good clothes.”

The man looks far more skeptical than Link thinks he ought to be, especially when the difference between his Snowquill set and the man’s own unsuited outfit is so starkly obvious. “You’re sure?” he asks. “I’m plenty warm right now.”

“Hebra is colder.” So cold that even his Snowquill set isn’t always sufficient. He hopes that this man isn’t stupid enough to dive into the freezing waters, but his foresight hasn’t particularly impressed Link yet. 

“Well, I’ll be sure to check it out,” he says. Link nods. Good enough for him. 

He tears through the Guardians in the span of a day and is knocking on the door of Purah’s lab by sunset. “The champions are still alive,” he announces when Symin lets him in. “We’re saving them.”

Purah, as always hard at work on something Link doesn’t try to figure out, immediately shoves all her papers to the side. “Oh? You always tell me the most interesting stuff, Linky! How’s that?”

Link tells her. About the loops, and the Sheikah Slate, and how she figured out that the champions never died. How they tore apart the Shrine of Resurrection last time and how she needs to do it again. Predictably, Purah lights up like the shrines she loves so much.

“Amazing,” she breathes, reading through Link’s clumsy notes. “Oh, this opens up so many avenues! Symin, come look at this!” She fishes out a pen and starts making annotations. “It’s been so long since I saw the princess’ hand in any of this… We’ll get started right away! You can go tell Robbie, right?”

So this is how he finds himself playing messenger between Hateno and Akkala again. Only, once the Sheikah Slate is finished, he doesn’t go to any of the champions or to the castle. Not just yet. 

He has been using the champions’ gifts sparingly, only calling on Fury and Protection when he truly needs them. He doesn’t yet know how the champions will react to the knowledge of being alive. None of them ever realized it themselves, and why would they have? They had never known that the Divine Beasts were capable of saving them. When they encountered the Blights, they assumed it a fight to the death, one they didn’t win. 

So once the Sheikah Slate is unlocked once more, he takes Purah and Robbie to the Shrine of Resurrection. The explanation he memorized last loop is rudimentary, and what he actually remembers of it probably even more so. But Purah and Robbie manage to reconstruct the same device that they made last time around. In the meantime, Link takes the Sheikah Slate to each of the different terminals and collects the keys they will need to unlock the stasis chambers on the Divine Beasts. It makes it feel real somehow. His hands tremble when he activates the last terminal — Vah Medoh’s — and connects to it. They’re so close.

“Hey, Link?” Purah asks when he returns to the entrance hall of the shrine. The device is starting to take shape, looking much like the one Link remembers. “I’m pretty sure I can make this work faster. You want us to do that?”

Link hesitates. He doesn’t have Zelda’s knowledge, so he has no idea if Purah would be improving upon the original plans or ruining them. But faster— faster would be good.

“How?” 

“Well!” Purah jumps on the healing bed. “Okay, you know those blue flames you brought to my lab, right? They’re ancient energy, powers a lot of this stuff! So if we incorporate that—” she shoves a sketch in Link’s face that would probably make a whole lot of sense to Zelda. He squints at it, but can only make out a drawing of the Ancient Furnace near Hateno Village alongside the device Purah and Robbie have been building. Purah notices his confusion. She cackles. “Oh, I am looking forward to seeing the princess again. Long story short: incorporate this, and the princess needs less power. Got that?”

Link nods. Less power to revive the champions means more power to defeat the Calamity. That’s never a bad thing. “Do it,” he decides. Purah smiles giddily and begs the Sheikah Slate off him, grabbing Robbie to take them topside again so she can gather the ancient energy they will need. 

Link doesn’t follow. He remains on the Great Plateau, looking out over the landscape that first greeted him over a year ago. Soon, he will never need to see Ganon’s Malice surround the castle again. 

When this is over, Zelda will begin the laborious process of rebuilding Hyrule again, and more than ever, he’s sure he doesn’t want to be there for it. Oh, he will support her however he can. She’s one of his best friends and what they experienced together is something no one else will ever understand. But he refuses to go back to the court life he was trapped in before. There must be other ways to help her.

She will need someone to travel around and check out the state of Hyrule. And there is nothing he’d be better at.

Purah and Robbie return with their ancient energy and work through the night to finish the machine that will bring the champions back. It looks more like an actual Sheikah device now, glowing with the familiar blue light of the shrines and towers. Its shape is still eerily reminiscent of a Guardian Scout, so much so that Link’s hands were on his bow the first time he entered the entrance hall and saw it. Purah assures him this is just the most efficient shape.

They spend the rest of the day testing it as best they can without Zelda’s power to work alongside it. Link wanders the Great Plateau, unable to help and reluctant to sit still. They only return to Hateno by evening, where Link is roped into cooking for Purah, Symin and Robbie. A good thing, he decides privately. None of them are especially great cooks.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Purah asks. Link finishes chewing the bite of salmon he just roasted and swallows before replying. 

“I go to the champions. Tell them about—” He gestures at the device tucked innocently into a corner of the lab. “Then to the castle.”

“Where you’ll fight the Calamity,” Symin says in a low voice. “Will you be okay?”

He really wishes people would stop asking him that. “Zelda will take the slate. Wait in Hateno. She’ll come find you.”

“And then we go free our buddies up there!” Robbie gestures vaguely in the direction of what could be Vah Rudania. “It’s gonna be good to see them! I wonder if they’ll still remember us!”

Link tries to hide how he flinches. It is a concern: what if the champions come out of their century-long slumber the way Link did: weakened and with almost no memory aside from their own name? After everything, can he still handle that?

Purah notices. She pats him on the arm. “Aww, don’t worry, Linky! We’ve got a direct line to the Goddess’ power now, that’s gonna speed things up! And if it doesn’t, I’ve got a ton of stories I can tell them!”

It’s meager consolation, but if it means having the champions back, he’ll take it. 

He spends a restless night sleeping in his own bed and trying to think of which champion to talk to first. Urbosa, he decides. She was most willing to follow their plan last time around. She will also have to wait the longest for Zelda to come for her. 

The picture of the champions glints in the faint moonlight. He remembers how he wished that they would all be together again, the first time he defeated Ganon. Back then it had been a wish born out of deep regret, something he never expected possible. Now it might actually come true. 

He gets up when the first rays of sunlight enter his house, unable to wait around any longer. It’s not like the champions sleep anyway — or rather, they’ve been sleeping for so long that day and night make no difference for them. When he arrives at Vah Naboris, the Gerudo Desert air is still freezing, so much so that he regrets not having dressed in his Snowquill set before setting off. He rubs at his arms through his Hylian tunic and glances around for a glimpse of Urbosa’s… soul? Spirit? He isn’t sure what to call this image of the champions anymore, knowing that they’re alive.

“I admit, I’m surprised to see you here,” Urbosa says. She appears to his right, peering down at him curiously. Link hides his flinch by crossing his arms tighter. 

“I’ve done this before,” he says without preamble. This first part, about the loops and how he and Zelda have been repeating the same days over and over again, comes easier to him now. It still hurts to see the shock on Urbosa’s face and hear her worry for Zelda and himself, but this isn’t the worst part anymore. The worst part is what he’ll have to tell her next.

“We know how to break free. We need your help.”

“Anything,” Urbosa agrees readily, but her eyes are piercing as she waits for Link to continue. Link glances up at Vah Naboris, where Urbosa’s body lies sleeping. He takes a deep breath.

“You’re not dead.”

Urbosa’s eyes widen in shock and sorrow. “Link, just because I can still talk to you—”

No, Link gestures vehemently. He points at Vah Naboris. “The Divine Beasts saved you. You’re not— not dead.”

Urbosa follows the line of his arm up to Vah Naboris, struck speechless. “You are certain?” she asks after several long seconds. 

Link nods mutely.

“That is... I never imagined. The others too?” she asks, suddenly frantic. Link nods again and Urbosa lets out a deep sigh. “Good, that’s good. So what do you need us to do?”

“I’ll fight Ganon,” he says. “Zelda will come. She’ll bring you back. Don’t fire Naboris.”

Urbosa frowns. “Are you sure? We are here to support you in this fight, Link. It is something Naboris and I have long looked forward to.”

“Once you’re back, you can — But you die if you fire. Wait for Zelda.”

It’s another risk they’re taking: what if the champions don’t remember anything at all? Will they still be able to connect to their Divine Beasts and have them fire their cannons? But the Divine Beasts have gone to such lengths already to save their champions. Even if the champions know nothing, Link is sure that their Beasts will step in. 

“Wait for Zelda,” Urbosa muses with a faint smile. “That, at least, is no hardship for me.”

The last time he asked Urbosa not to fire Vah Naboris, he went to Gerudo Town to find clothes for her. And Link is tempted to do it again; he’s already got Zelda’s clothes tucked away. But he remembers how hopeful he had been and how much it had hurt to see those Gerudo and Rito clothes in the slate’s inventory afterwards. He doesn’t wish to jinx this battle before it’s even begun. 

The promise of being able to fire after waking up was enough to lay the worst of Urbosa’s fears to rest. He can only hope it will be the same for the other champions.

“Alive?” Daruk repeats, gobsmacked. “You’re sure about that? Gotta say, I feel—” 

Link cuts him off. “Alive,” he insists. “The Divine Beasts kept you alive.” 

Daruk pats Rudania’s leg with one massive, see-through hand. “All this time? You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble for li’l old me,” he says. “I’m sure you could have found another champion, no problem!”

Link’s noise of disagreement is drowned out by Vah Rudania’s much louder rumble. Daruk laughs heartily. “Alright alright, understood. So what’re you gonna do, kick that bastard’s ass and then fix us up?”

Link shakes his head. “Zelda will come. During the fight. Don’t fire!” he insists. “If you fire, Zelda can’t— so please, just, don’t fire.”

Daruk visibly hesitates. He looks from Vah Rudania to the castle, then back at Link. “Sounds to me like this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, huh?” he says. Link doesn’t reply, afraid of what he’ll say if he does. “Well, I’ll trust you on this, buddy! But let us know if it gets too hard on you, okay? We’ll be there!” 

That’s exactly what Link is afraid of. He’s glad that the Flamebreaker helmet so thoroughly hides his expression. “You can, after you’re back. But wait for Zelda.” 

Daruk looks at him searchingly. “Well, kick his ass for us then, little guy. We’ll be right there beside you as soon as we can!” 

Mipha is nowhere in sight when he appears at Vah Ruta’s lake. Link waits — the champions usually notice his arrival sooner rather than later. But after a minute, Mipha still hasn’t appeared and he is getting antsy. Has something gone wrong? Her gift is still there, warmly enveloping his heart as usual.

“Mipha?” he calls. His voice doesn’t reach very far. Shouting takes even more effort than talking.

But Vah Ruta lets out a long, trumpeting call. Seconds later, Mipha appears, looking dazed and blinking rapidly at the sight of him. 

“Link! Oh, I didn’t expect to see you,” she says. She reaches out a hand, but draws it back again. “But I am glad you are here. Are you okay?” 

She studies him, but Link doesn’t know what she’s looking for. He nods. Urbosa and Daruk had many questions for him, meaning it is already late afternoon edging into evening. Perhaps he should put off his conversation with Revali until tomorrow. But he doesn’t want to start the fight with Ganon angry, not when he’ll need every ounce of concentration he can gather.

I’m fine, he signs. Instead of placating Mipha, that only makes her frown. 

“Did you need to talk to me?” she asks. Link nods, sitting down before launching into yet another explanation of the loops. Unlike Urbosa and Daruk, Mipha takes it reasonably well. Even telling her that she’s still alive doesn’t unbalance her as much as it did the other champions.

“I see…” she says, thoughtful. She smiles up at Vah Ruta. “Thank you, then. It was so very kind of you to go to all this effort for us.”

Vah Ruta rumbles and Mipha giggles softly. Link isn’t often envious of the other champions, but he does wish that he could understand the Divine Beasts like they do. His Master Cycle Zero is less Divine Beast and more mobile command post, something he can interact with using the Sheikah Slate. Without a Sheikah Slate of their own, the champions found very different methods.

“Have you found a plan, then? You and Zelda?” Mipha asks. Link is surprised at how well she’s taking this new knowledge. The last time they had this conversation, she had been so convinced of her death that she'd even tried to talk him out of the plan to save her. But last time, Link and Zelda were relying on hope more than knowledge. Perhaps she can hear the greater certainty in his voice, and is choosing to trust him. Or perhaps Mipha’s healing powers had always been pointing her to a conclusion she only now dares to consider being real.

“I’ll fight Ganon,” he explains. “Zelda will… She’ll bring you back. But you can’t fire Vah Ruta until she does, or— the energy—”

“No, that would be bad, wouldn’t it?” Mipha muses. Link nods, relieved that she understands and agrees. “Of course I will wait, Link. Is there anything you need us to do? Anything you need Ruta to do?”

Link shakes his head. He doesn’t think so. Zelda, Purah and Robbie had everything quite thoroughly figured out. All he needs to do is stall the Calamity until the champions are back. Not an easy task, but easier than outright beating it. He can have it run in circles for a while. He’s pretty good at that.

Mipha peers closely at him. “I am confident that you and Zelda have thought long on this, Link. But you must promise me that you will be careful. If I am to be woken up, I fear my gift will no longer protect you.”

It will not. Waking up the champions will mean losing their gifts, but that is a price Link will pay gladly. He got around without them for months before he freed all the Divine Beasts. 

“I’ll be careful,” he tells Mipha. She smiles at him, the same gentle smile he hopes to see for real very, very soon.

“That is all I can ask for. I will see you very soon, Link.”

That just leaves Revali, the one conversation Link has been dreading the most. He thinks idly that, if Revali has to move Vah Medoh, he should probably tell someone in Rito Village about it, lest the village thinks Vah Medoh is going on a rampage again. Then he thinks, more seriously, of the time he defeated Windblight Ganon. Vah Medoh provided plenty of updrafts he could use to reach the main terminal. But Zelda doesn’t have a paraglider and he’s not giving her his. 

The thought of entering the village again and submitting himself to the concern of the Rito gives him chills. Fortunately, the person he wants to speak to is rarely in the village anyway. He appears at the bottom of the Flight Range and catches one of its many updrafts with the paraglider, gliding up until he’s hovering over the landing. His instincts were right — unlike last time he came here, there is a fire burning hot inside and the distinct shape of Teba bent over the cooking pot. Tulin is nowhere in sight and Link hopes that for once, Teba gave in to Saki’s demands and sent the boy back to Rito Village. 

He remembers training day in, day out. Tulin may enjoy it now, but Link wonders just how long that will last.

Teba jumps up when Link alights on the landing, hand already on his bow. But he relaxes when he spots Link and steps to the side, motioning for him to come in. Link does so gladly. Even these brief moments in the Flight Range made his face burn from the cold. 

“Link. What brings you here?” 

Months ago, so long now that the details have already blurred in Link’s mind, he had dinner with Teba, Saki and Harth before he faced the Calamity. For Teba, that’s only a week ago. 

Link settles down on one of the cushions spread across the Flight Range, stripping off his gloves and holding his hands above the fire. 

“A question,” he says. Teba hums, a quiet acknowledgement. Link hesitates then. Only Kass is aware that Link is the actual Hero of Legend, and he hasn’t spread the word. Once, this was the very reason why he enjoyed staying in Rito Village so much. No one recognized him as the hero who had failed to slay the Calamity a century ago. Now, it means another hurdle he has to get past.

“I will fight the Calamity. Soon,” he begins. When he pauses to keep the breath from fleeing his lungs, Teba makes a concerned sound.

“Are you certain, Link? You are very talented, no doubt, but you are just one person. We would be happy to offer our support.”

Link shakes his head. “Done it before,” he says, and he wants to explain the loop he’s caught in, how he’s lived through this fight seven times already, and watched it from afar another time. But before he can, Teba chuckles softly.

“Ah, then Harth was right. Tell me, how old are you really, Link?”

Link inclines his head. Admitting to being the failed Hero from a century ago is somehow easier than explaining the endless loops he’s trapped in. “117,” he counts. “No, 118. I was asleep. For a century.”

He doesn’t remember his birthday. He hasn’t thought about it at all since waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection. But that was more than a year ago, so that means another year has been added to his age. 

He wonders if Zelda knows his birthday. If not her, then certainly Mipha. 

“Seventeen…” Teba says. “Were you a Rito, you’d barely have lost your cheek spots. It is different for you Hylians, I imagine.”

But his eyes are narrowed, as silent condemnation of the Hylian army and the king that Link can’t help but feel warmed by. He pictures Revali, who most certainly still has his cheek spots, and wonders how Teba would react to that knowledge. Maybe he’ll get to find out soon.

“And you are sure you are ready now?” Teba asks again. Link nods. Teba scrutinizes him, but finds no lie in his face. Link is determined. So instead of further arguing the point, Teba turns and brings out two bowls and a ladle, in which he ladles the thick stew that’s been cooking over the fire. Link thinks he could do better, but he wisely refrains from saying so.

“... Not just me. The champions too. Revali is still alive,” he says. Teba fumbles the ladle and almost drops it into the pot. He quickly sets down the bowl he was filling, staring at Link with wide eyes.

“Master Revali is—?” He looks up, although Vah Medoh isn’t visible from where they’re sitting. Link nods.

“When I fight. Zelda — the princess — will bring him back. But she can’t get onto Vah Medoh.”

“And so you ask for my help.” Teba finally picks up the ladle again and finishes serving up Link’s bowl. Link wraps his hands around it, letting the warmth seep into him.

“But you know I cannot reach Vah Medoh. Not where it is now,” Teba continues. His look speaks of disappointment. “No Rito has ever accomplished what Master Revali has. I do not know how much help I can be.”

“I know. He’ll move it.” Link takes his first spoon of stew, chewing on the chicken. It’s been stewed just a little too long, but he has eaten far worse. He puts the spoon down and gestures thank you.

“ No problem. To think, I’ll actually meet Master Revali…” Teba says, the awe in his eyes plain for all to see. Link sincerely hopes he won’t be disappointed. Revali is… tough, to deal with. 

And Link still needs to deal with him.

It is long past nightfall when he finally appears in Rito Village, the sky above pitch-black with only Vah Medoh providing some illumination. The very thought of going up there taunts him. He has to. But seeing Revali again… It’s been over two weeks since he last saw Revali face-to-face, ever since Revali made him a promise that he promptly broke. Oh, this Revali isn’t the Revali he talked to. This Revali has never broken any promises. And here Link is, foolish enough to give him the chance to do it again.

He thinks of warping up to Vah Medoh just to piss Revali off, but then he thinks about facing Revali right this very second and feels his jaw clench. Climbing it is. He tosses out a perfunctory greeting to Kass and heads up. It isn’t far from the shrine to the highest point of the village. Normally, this is where he’d use Gale to give him a boost and announce his presence to Revali. Now, he just tugs on his climbing gloves, jumps for the nearest handheld and starts climbing.

Even without Gale, he’s not fortunate enough to catch Revali by surprise. The Rito Champion is already waiting for him when he pushes himself over the edge.

“Slower—”

“—than last time. Yeah, I know,” Link bites out. 

“If you know, then you could put some more effort into it.” Revali raises an eyebrow, an expression that Link has come to read as good humor. One that means Revali has absolutely no idea what the problem is. Link clenches his teeth together. 

“Hey,” Revali prods, when Link fails to come up with a retort. “What’s up?”

Link remains stubbornly silent. Revali clicks his beak.

“Are you still unsure?” he asks. “I thought you — Last time, you —”

“Yeah, you’d know all about that, huh?” Link mutters. He looks up at Revali and, oh, bad idea. Revali is staring at him with ill-concealed confusion and something that Link refuses to acknowledge as hurt.

“What are you on about? Did you hit your head or something?”

 “Eight times,” Link snaps. “I’ve done this eight times.” 

“Done what—” 

“Defeated Ganon, woke up here again.” Link makes a dismissive gesture. He takes a deep breath and turns his gaze away. He still has a plan to explain and he can’t get through that if he feels like shouting whenever he looks at Revali. “Look, Zelda and I— There’s a plan, alright?”

“The princess?” Revali mutters, his confusion gaining something sharp-edged. “What do you mean, you’ve defeated Ganon before? What plan?”

Link wants to grind his teeth. Why is Revali so slow on the uptake? He consciously tries to relax. He just needs to make sure Revali follows the plan, that he’ll be safe and alive once Ganon is finally defeated. He can deal with any anger after that. 

“Soon, I’ll fight Ganon. Again,” he says, stubbornly keeping his eyes fixed on the castle so he doesn’t have to see Revali’s reaction. “Zelda will come. She’ll bring you back. You cannot fire Medoh.”

“Bring me back?” Revali says, feathers rustling. Link hates that he knows exactly what Revali looks like, even without seeing him. Wings crossed, feathers ruffled. He’s thrown off-balance and he doesn’t want Link to know it. “What— Do you mean from the dead?”

“You’re not dead.”

Revali bristles. “I’m quite certain I would know if I weren’t—”

“You don’t,” Link snaps. “None of you are dead. You’re in there,” he gestures at Medoh, “you’re alive and we’re trying to save you. So don’t fire!”

Revali is silent for a very long time, long enough that Link risks looking at him again. He’s staring at Medoh, wings crossed tight just like Link imagined. “… Are you sure?” he asks, very quietly. Link swallows down his anger. He’s had a full loop already to get used to this knowledge, but it’s new for Revali.

He nods. Revali looks very small all of a sudden.

“It’s true?” he asks again, though this time the question isn’t for Link. Vah Medoh rumbles, something Link can only take as confirmation.

“So all along…” Revali shakes his head and turns towards Link again. Link looks away just in time. “And this plan of yours. Why shouldn’t I fire Medoh?”

Link’s hackles rise. “Because you die if you do. Is that so hard?”

He turns away and paces out from under Medoh’s shadow, onto the far end of the outcropping. He’s told Revali, hasn’t he? That should be enough. He’ll just go home, get some sleep, and then fight Ganon one more time.

“Okay, what is up with you today?” Revali asks, far too close for comfort. Link balls his fists, willing himself to stay quiet. It’s not even worth it. This Revali can’t explain what his other self was thinking. 

“I’ll go to the castle. Fight Ganon. Zelda will come here first.”

Of all the things Link expected, it really wasn’t for Revali to preen. “Of course. Because you need my support, I imagine.”

“Because you didn’t listen! ” Link shouts. “You fired! You promised not to and you did!”

Revali is struck dumb for just a second, but unfortunately he recovers far too fast. “Well then, I’m sure I had a perfectly good reason for—”

“I wouldn’t know,” Link snaps. “You didn’t tell me.”

Vah Medoh lets out a displeased rumble that Link pointedly ignores. Revali flaps his wings, once, twice, gaining height on Link. “Oh, so now you’re blaming me for something only you can remember? How very convenient for you.”

Link abruptly turns his back on him. Why does he even bother still coming here, why does he still want to— If Revali were really here, and not asleep inside Vah Medoh, at least he could grab him, make him understand— But Revali is still on the verge of death and if he can’t listen, then Link will lose him again.

“You promised you wouldn’t,” he says. “And then you did. So why should I believe you—”

Revali scoffs. “And naturally you have never broken a promise in your life. Well, if you can’t figure out why, there’s no point in me telling you.”

Link hesitates, just for a moment. He had promised Revali once that he’d tell him about the loops, a promise he’d kept twice… and broken once, too angry to even consider speaking to Revali last time. But that wasn’t this Revali and certainly not the Revali who had fired Vah Medoh. Breaking that promise didn’t lead to anyone dying.

But Revali has spotted his hesitation. He laughs, a terrible sound that grates on Link’s ears. “Oh, there you go! The Chosen Hero gets to break his promises, but the rest of us don’t? Even when we—”

Link doesn’t make out what Revali says next, but he doesn’t need to. So that’s it then? All this time, he thought Revali didn’t resent him anymore. That he knew that Link had never asked for this and would much rather spend his days away from the spotlight the King had thrust him into. Despite the Rito down lining his clothes, he feels so very cold.

“When Zelda brings you back. You can fire all you want.” 

He takes the Sheikah Slate. He needs to get out here. He can’t fight Ganon like this. 

“You really don’t get it, do you,” Revali says, and unlike before, he sounds deeply resigned. Link, against all better judgment, turns around again. “Yes, I wanted to fight it. With you.”

He isn’t meeting Link’s eyes. He’s turned his head away, wings folded again. Link swallows. He can’t do this right now. Later, when Revali is alive and safe and he doesn’t need to worry about losing yet another version of him. He tucks the Sheikah Slate away and unfolds the paraglider. Then he glances back. He almost forgot.

“… You should move Vah Medoh. Zelda can’t enter it like this.”

He had planned on fighting the Calamity the day after, but Link sleeps so terribly and wakes up so groggily that he immediately delays the whole plan by another day. Instead, he takes stock of his weapon inventory.

He will be handing the Sheikah Slate to Zelda the moment he meets her at the castle, and he doubts that Ganon will give him the time to search for any of the weapons still lying around. That means he needs to carry everything he intends to use.

He spreads his weapon inventory out on the table of his house. Arrows, he has plenty of, but the most effective ones were always the Ancient Arrows Robbie made. Killing off the Guardians in Central Hyrule and Akkala at least left him with plenty of spare parts. As for a bow…

He has always carried Revali’s Great Eagle Bow with him in battle. It is a solid, powerful bow, but it isn’t truly made for Hylian hands, and sometimes that has cost him. That wasn’t so bad when he could switch bows at will, but now he won’t have that luxury.

Instead, his eyes stray to the Ancient Bow. Revali — another Revali — mocked him for it once, but there is a relief in not having to account for angles, knowing that his arrow will hit exactly where he points it at. He only has one, but maybe Robbie can make more.

At least he has no need for multiple swords. In Ganon’s presence, the Master Sword shares his determination to fight. It will not break or run out of power. That means he packs Mipha’s Lightscale Trident and Urbosa’s Scimitar of the Seven back into the Sheikah Slate as well. Like the Great Eagle Bow, they are magnificent weapons. But right now they represent extra weight he cannot afford to carry.

Instead of Daybreaker, he opts for the Ancient Shield. It is compact and collapses when not in use, making it far lighter than any of his other options. Again, one more would be good. He wonders if he has the parts for it, or if Robbie does. Robbie is staying with Purah for the time being, waiting for Link’s signal. Once he goes to the castle, they will wait for Zelda at Purah’s lab before moving on.

“Vah Medoh moved just before dawn,” Purah says when Link shows up at the lab. Link nods. At least Revali listened to that much. 

“So, are you leaving?” she continues. She says it cheerfully, but Link detects the underlying note of tension in her voice. He shakes his head. 

“I need weapons.”

Robbie jumps up. “Ooh, you should’ve said! What do you want? I’ve been working on this prototype that I need someone to test—”

“Arrows,” Link cuts him off. He’s all for testing things when he isn’t facing the most important fight of his life. “And bows. Shields.”

“Arrows, no problem,” Robbie says. “Bows and shields… Gonna need Giant Cores for that.”

Link winces. He’s pretty sure he already knows the location of every Guardian in Hyrule that will leave him a Giant Core and he’s destroyed them all. Short of a Blood Moon, he isn’t getting any more. 

Robbie spots his disappointment. “I might have some stuff I can rework, just give me a day. In the meantime…”

There are still a couple of Guardians in Hyrule Field and he could always use more Ancient Arrows. “I’ll be back tonight,” he promises. He drops Robbie off in Akkala to get to work on his weapons and warps back to Hyrule Field, where he spends a productive day clearing out every Guardian he didn’t defeat a few days ago. He then ventures into the castle to do the same, placing the Travel Medallion on the walkway to the Castle Sanctum while he’s at it. If he only has limited resources tomorrow, he doesn’t want to waste them on Moblins. 

“Tomorrow,” he shouts, standing in front of the sanctum. He doesn’t know if Zelda hears him, but he hopes it helps ease her mind. 

The exertion burns off some of his anger and leaves him more settled for the fight to come. By nightfall, there isn’t a Guardian left in Castle Town or Hyrule Field, and Link can add another set of Ancient Arrows to his collection. Robbie presents him with another bow and shield when he returns to the Akkala lab, scrounged together from whatever materials he still had lying around. They aren’t quite the same as the ones he already had, looking a bit rougher around the edges, but they have the same weight in his hand. 

Purah and Robbie invite him for dinner, but he refuses their offer. This last night he would rather spend alone in his own house. Instead, he spends his evening brewing elixirs for Zelda and the two Sheikah to survive in the icy wastes and scorching heat of Hebra and Eldin. The picture of the champions, which used to taunt him the first time he decided to face the Calamity, now feels like a promise. By this time tomorrow, the champions will be alive again and this will all be over.

He eats breakfast methodically, spends a few minutes cleaning up the place so he doesn’t have to come home to a mess tonight and then warps to Purah’s lab on top of the hill. This time, when Purah asks him if he’s going to the castle, he confirms.

“Straight to Ganon,” he explains, showing the castle map on the Sheikah Slate. He is wearing his Champion’s tunic underneath the Ancient Armor Robbie developed. It is clunky and Purah wastes no time in telling Robbie that it looks ridiculous, but he’s found it to be a very effective defense. Underneath the armor, he has stocked what few healing items and elixirs he can comfortably carry. 

“And we wait for the princess,” Purah adds on, nodding. Everything they need to bring back the champions is already loaded into the slate. All Zelda needs to do is come here and pick up Robbie and Purah. “Alright. Good luck, Link. We’ll work as fast as we can.”

Even then, it will take them hours and hours to heal everyone. But Link can stall. He’s fast and he’s fought this battle many times before. 

He appears on the walkway of the Castle Sanctum. Thanks to his efforts yesterday, the nearby walls are devoid of Guardians, scouts or otherwise. It gives him a moment to gather his courage before he enters the sanctum. 

Link? Are you ready?

“Yes,” he says. Unlike before, a light splits off from the cocoon that imprisons Ganon, growing brighter and shaping into Zelda. The cocoon shakes violently, but Zelda still has one hand outstretched, keeping it together until Link can give her the Sheikah Slate. 

“You’re sure?” she asks, the hand not keeping Ganon in check fluttering worriedly before coming to rest on his shoulder. Link nods, taking off his helmet briefly so he can meet her eyes. He holds out the Sheikah Slate.

“Bring them back.”

Zelda takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. She waits until Link has put on his helmet and drawn the Master Sword, glowing bright blue in Ganon’s presence, before opening the map. 

“Good luck, Link. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Then she’s gone, and the cocoon that contained Ganon bursts open in a violent wave of power. None of the Divine Beasts fire. Link smiles, grimly satisfied, and charges into battle.

Zelda arrives on Purah’s doorstep cold and jittery and glancing back over her shoulder as soon as she takes on physical form. She cannot see the castle from here and she hates it. 

The door of the lab is already open for her. Purah shouts from inside: “Princess! Come in, quickly, we’re ready here!”

Zelda hurries in to find Robbie and Purah. “Let’s go,” she announces. She doesn’t bother with introductions. Link will have explained everything to them. 

“Change first,” Purah says. “It’s cold in Hebra. You cannot go like this.”

Zelda looks down at her ruined dress. An elixir will serve her just fine, she wants to say. They have no time to waste, not when Link is in a desperate fight with the Calamity. But some part of her doesn’t want this to be the first look the champions get of her: a princess in torn-up clothes, who was unable to save them so many years ago.

So she changes as quickly as she can, downs a spicy elixir and waits for Purah and Robbie to cluster around her before selecting Vah Medoh on the Sheikah Slate. They are met by freezing winds and a desolate landscape. This isn’t the rock spire above Rito Village, but a flat plain from where she can only just see the castle. The last time she saw it like this was when she entered it a century ago. Even now, what used to be the Castle Sanctum has been destroyed completely. How is Link doing? Is he still okay?

“Princess Zelda,” an unfamiliar voice greets her, and a tall white Rito lands in front of them. “I am Teba. Link asked me to assist you in entering Vah Medoh.”

Ah yes, Teba, the Rito who brought Link to Vah Medoh when he fought Windblight Ganon. Link has told her about him. Looking up at Vah Medoh, his help is most certainly appreciated.

“Thank you for your assistance,” she says. She glances around. “Is Champion Revali here?”

“I haven’t yet seen Master Revali,” Teba replies. “I believe him to be on Vah Medoh. I will take you there.”

“Please,” Zelda says, and Teba crouches down so she can climb onto his back. Then, in one of the updrafts generated by Vah Medoh, he takes off. Zelda’s eyes water in the harsh wind, but the flight isn’t a long one. Teba lands onto Vah Medoh’s back, right next to the main terminal. Zelda jumps off and Teba flies back down again, off to pick up Purah and Robbie.

“Revali?” she calls anxiously. Revali is nowhere to be seen, but he wouldn’t do this to them now, would he? Not when Link is fighting for his own life, and theirs.

“Right here,” Revali says. He fades into view, not bothering to spare a glance for Zelda. Instead, he is looking out towards the castle. “So he’s fighting, huh?”

“Yes,” Zelda says. Revali is the only champion she hasn’t seen since getting caught up in these cycles, and he looks… Well, just the same as she remembers him. But something about the way he’s folded his wings speaks of concern, and she can work with that.

“Well then, a good thing you finally bothered to show up, your Highness. Let’s get started.”

Or not. Zelda bristles. It can’t have been more than ten minutes since she left the castle and came here. She takes the Sheikah Slate and starts unpacking the device Robbie made. To her relief, it still looks much the same.

That is when Teba arrives again, carrying Purah. He sets her down next to Zelda and does a double-take upon spotting Revali. 

“Master Revali, it is an honor to meet you in person,” he says, sounding distinctly awestruck. His eyes linger on Revali’s face. Upon seeing the other Rito, Revali’s eyes widen.

“Yes, likewise,” he says. “You must be…”

“Teba, Master Revali,” Teba replies. “I assisted Link during Vah Medoh’s rampage.”

“Teba, yes. Link has told me about you,” Revali says. “Vah Medoh is grateful for your help, as am I.”

Zelda has never heard Revali thank anyone before. She wonders if he really did change that much, or if this is just a part of him she never got to see. Teba looks thrown by the compliment, so much so that Purah has to nudge him to get him moving again.

“Hey, can you get Robbie?” she asks. Teba gathers himself again. 

“Yes. It was an honor, Master Revali. I will return soon.”

With that, he flies off. Revali looks after him wistfully. “It’s been a very long time…” he mutters. Then he shakes his head and looks down at Zelda and Purah. 

“So, how exactly will you make this work?”

“Well!” Purah says, getting up. Zelda remains where she is, connecting the healing device to the main terminal. She’s more than happy to leave the explaining to Purah. “We’re gonna get you all healed up, then open up that terminal and get you out!”

“I suppose I really am in there, then,” Revali says, but he’s not truly paying attention anymore. Instead, he flies up several feet until he has a good look at the castle again. Zelda wants to ask him what he’s seeing, but she resists the urge. Focus. The sooner they’re all back, the sooner she can go help Link.

Once Teba arrives with Robbie, setting up their device goes surprisingly fast. With shaking hands, Zelda taps the Sheikah Slate to Vah Medoh’s main terminal. Link has already loaded all the keys onto it, and the connection forms within seconds. Her screen fills with information on the stasis chamber below. Its energy levels are running dangerously low, even though Vah Medoh is diverting almost all of its power to it. No wonder none of the champions ever survived firing the cannons of the Divine Beasts. 

“Princess?” Purah says. “Your turn. We’ll monitor.”

“Right.” Zelda steps away from the Sheikah Slate and places her hands on top of the device. It glows a bright blue, unlike what she remembers from last time. “Did you change the design?” she asks.

“Ah, yes! We incorporated some ancient energy into it,” Purah says. “Should save you some power!”

That’s going to be very useful, especially since she still needs the energy to seal Ganon afterwards. Zelda closes her eyes and calls on the power of the Goddess, sending it into the device and making both it and the terminal light up. Above her, Revali lets out a soft, shocked sound.

“You feel it?” Purah calls from where she’s studying the Sheikah Slate.

“Yes, I…” Revali trails off. Zelda opens her eyes. He looks lost for words, and while she doesn’t see any distinct changes to his form, his expression makes it clear that he’s most certainly feeling them.

“Good going, princess!” Purah continues. “Okay, we’re fully linked up, changing the protocols to healing now.”

Undoing the damage of a fight a century ago is a daunting task, and Zelda is grateful for the ancient energy incorporated into the new design. She feels it drawing on her power and increasing it. Revali shudders. He lands again and peers over Purah’s shoulder at the Sheikah Slate.

“How do you know when it’s done?” he asks. Purah hums.

“Not sure! I was hoping you’d tell us, actually!” 

Revali scoffs, and Zelda almost giggles. Oh, it has been a while since she’s heard that particular sound. She tries judging whether she can increase the power flow, decides that she can and sends more energy into the device. 

She’s been doing that for maybe an hour in total when Purah makes a confused noise and straightens up. Fear immediately grips Zelda’s heart, but Revali is still there. He has been pacing, exchanging a few words with a seated Teba but mostly staring at the castle, where Link must still be fighting. Zelda hasn’t allowed herself to look up. Once, Revali told them that Link had used his gift and still looked to be in a good state.

“Purah, what’s wrong?” Zelda asks. Purah taps the Sheikah Slate. 

“Vah Medoh’s shutting down power supply to the stasis chamber,” she says, and Zelda blanches. Does that mean it isn’t working after all?

“Can you reverse it?” she asks urgently. Purah gestures for Robbie and taps away at the slate. 

“I don’t think it’s necessary, actually.” She looks up at Revali, who’s heard their hushed voices and is now eyeing them with distrust. “I think it’s done. Your body’s all healed up now. You should be able to wake up.”

Revali folds his wings. “Pray tell: how do I do that?”

Zelda exchanges a look with Purah and Robbie. She has no idea how to wake him up. His soul is clearly still separate from his body. Even if his body is fine, without his soul inside it’s just an empty doll. 

“Could you—” she starts to say, but Revali shudders, holding up a wing to stop her and closing his eyes. He looks out of it for several seconds before opening his eyes again.

“Link,” he says by way of explanation. “Still fine.”

“Good,” Zelda says absently. This blatant use of Revali’s gift has reminded her of something: Mipha, weeks ago, taking her gift back from Link in the hopes that it would be enough for Zelda’s power to reach her. It hadn’t been. But maybe now…

“You need to take back your gift,” she says. Carefully, she lets her power die down and removes her hands. Purah nods. The stasis chamber is holding steady.

Revali bristles. “What do you mean, take it back? He’s in a fight! With the Calamity! ”

“I know!” Zelda takes a deep breath, trying to keep her temper even. Oh, she’s all too aware that Link is fighting the Calamity, and with each champion she wakes up, she’s making the fight harder on him. “But it’s part of you. You have to take it back. Once you’re back, Medoh can fire. We can help him.”

Revali glares, but he has no retort. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Zelda wonders, unbidden, if his body below the main terminal is taking that same breath. 

She sees the light returning to him, the little ball of energy that represents the power he gave Link sinking into his chest. Revali gasps, clutches at his chest… and disappears.

“Revali?!” Zelda asks, panicked. Teba stands up, frantically looking around. Purah holds up a hand.

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine. I think you were right, princess!” Even though she sounds cheerful, in her eyes Zelda reads the same anxiety she feels herself. Robbie is clutching the main terminal, staring up at the fixtures at the top. 

“Okay, let’s open her up!” Purah continues. She makes room for Zelda at the terminal and taps away at the slate again. Vah Medoh lets out a deep, groaning sound below their feet. And then, slowly, improbably, the main terminal unfolds, opening up like a gigantic flower bulb. Zelda jumps to the side and peers down. Below is a bed that looks almost exactly like the healing bed in the Shrine of Resurrection. And inside—

Revali is there, alive. Zelda holds a hand to her mouth. Until this very moment, some ever-skeptic part of her still hadn’t truly believed it. But he’s alive. Alive and trying to get up, unfolding a shaky wing to hold onto the side of the bed.

Teba gets there first, jumping down and offering a wing. “Master Revali, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, yes.” Revali sounds shaky as he accepts Teba’s help. His clothes bear the traces of Windblight Ganon’s attack, the scarf Zelda made for him so many decades ago torn and charred, but his body shows no scars. Unlike Link, who was left with the scars even after a century. Or perhaps Revali’s feathers are just covering up any damage.

Teba hoists him out of the chamber and Revali finds his footing on Vah Medoh’s surface, spreading out his wings carefully and testing for any soreness. He flaps them once, twice, experimentally, and then crouches down in the same move Zelda has seen Link make more than once.

“Revali, be care—” she calls, but her warning falls onto deaf ears. Revali launches into the air, generating an updraft that ruffles their clothes. Teba looks awestruck.

“The Master’s Gale,” he mutters. “I never imagined I’d see it with my own eyes.”

Revali circles them once before landing again, stumbling slightly as he touches down. Zelda rushes over.

“Please, we don’t know how well you’ve recovered! Are you feeling fine? Do you remember everything?”

“Of course I do,” Revali replies, impatient. “Now if you’ll excuse me— Medoh?” 

Vah Medoh rumbles, a sound Zelda would call pleased. Revali takes off again, onto Medoh’s giant head. Zelda knows what’s coming right before it happens. At Revali’s command, the Divine Beast lights up, gathering all its remaining power before loosing a blast that shakes the very earth they’re standing on. Zelda sees it streak across Hyrule and impact with the castle. She hopes Link didn’t get caught up in it.

Revali reappears.

“Now take me there,” he says, waving a wing at the castle. Zelda shakes her head. Why is he always so insistent on facing Ganon?

“You have only just woken up,” she tries to reason. “You need time to recover. But perhaps you could… I’m sure Rito Village would be happy to see you.”

“Master Revali would be welcomed with open arms,” Teba intones solemnly. Revali hesitates for a second, eyes straying past her towards where Purah and Robbie are already at work dismantling the device. 

“Fine,” he says with a sneer. “Just make sure you hurry it up.”

She doesn’t need to get along with him, Zelda reminds herself. She just needs him alive. She drops down next to Purah and Robbie and starts disconnecting cables. Meanwhile, Revali wanders over and picks up the Sheikah Slate that Purah has put down.

“So this is that thing he’s always lugging along?” he muses out loud. Zelda starts to call out a warning, but Revali has already drawn out his Great Eagle Bow before she can. He holds it reverently, pulling the bowstring taut before gently letting it go slack again. 

“He didn’t even take it,” he mutters. Zelda looks away. Seeing Revali with his bow again, she realizes now just how naked he looked without it. When she looks up again, Revali is pulling bomb arrows out of the slate. 

“Revali?”

Revali smirks. He tosses the Sheikah Slate back at her; she only barely catches it.

“Well, your Highness, you did me a great favor, and I have to thank you for that. I will see you when you manage to show up!” 

And with that, he shoots into the air again, Great Eagle Bow and arrows clutched in his talons. He remains hovering for just a moment.

“Revali! It’s too dangerous!” Zelda shouts after him. She’s only just brought him back! Link will never forgive her if he actually gets himself killed for real this time! She looks pleadingly at Teba, who spreads his wings to go after him, but the updrafts that Medoh was generating abruptly cut out. 

“You’ll learn one day,” Revali tells Teba, almost kind. And then he flies off, far out of reach. Zelda suppresses a curse. She doesn’t have time for this and warning Link now will only break his concentration. Best case scenario, Revali will be forced to land after flying for a little while. She doesn’t dare think of what will happen if he actually makes it to the battlefield.

“Well, that went well,” Purah says wryly. “C’mon princess, we gotta move on.”

Gale vanishes just as Link is eyeing up the rafters of the Observatory, hoping to find a hiding place there for a second’s rest. He’s forced to duck out of the way instead, behind a wall that’s likely to come down very soon. He finds a moment to breathe and takes off in a run again, circling behind the Calamity to look for an opening.

He’s loath to admit it, but he’s been struggling. The Calamity is still the same. It still uses the same attacks it always did, but without the near-endless supplies of the Sheikah Slate, this fight has been much harder. He needs to be careful, measure out every arrow he has and make sure they strike true. He finds himself relying on the Master Sword more than usual, if only because he knows it will not break. But that means getting in close range, which in turn means dodging the swipes of the Calamity’s massive weapons much more frequently than he’s used to. 

He has to dodge an attack from its spear again, flipping back and charging in when time seems to slow. It doesn’t last long — soon he’s back on the defense, shield raised to deflect a shot from the Calamity’s Guardian-like pulsing eye. 

Which is when Vah Medoh’s attack crashes into the Calamity.

The monster screeches, loud and furious and pained. It hadn’t seen this coming. Link hadn’t seen it coming. He takes a quick, elated moment to close his eyes. It’s working. If Revali was able to attack with Vah Medoh, that means he’s back again, alive and awake and safe. The spot where Gale used to rest, usually so cold, feels warm now. He’s back. He’s safe. Soon, Zelda will wake up everyone else too and then this will finally be over.

He charges at the Calamity with renewed vigor, unable to suppress his grin. The Calamity is stunned from Vah Medoh’s attack, making it easy prey. Soon. 

Using a fireproof elixir when her previous spicy one hasn’t fully worn off yet can’t be wise, but Zelda has no time to waste. So she, Purah and Robbie go straight from the icy cold of Hebra into the heart of Death Mountain. Even with the elixir, the heat is intense, and she thinks longingly of the Flamebreaker Armor in the Sheikah Slate. But attaching their scrounged-up device to the main terminal is too fiddly a job to do with armor on. 

“Ah, princess, it is so good to see you again. I’m glad you made it!” Daruk greets her loudly. Zelda spots him just a couple feet away, standing next to Vah Rudania on a rocky outcropping. “It’s time, then? Everything go okay with our little bird buddy over there?”

“Revali is fine, yes,” Zelda says stiffly. As far as she knows, at least. She really hopes she won’t need to explain to Link how he fell into Tanagar Canyon an hour after waking up. 

Daruk spots Robbie and Purah with her and lights up. “Hey, I remember you! Robbie, right? Wow, it’s been a heck of a long time, you Sheikah sure stick around for a while!” 

“So do you!” Robbie replies, eyes glittering at the sight of Daruk’s spirit. Daruk gives Purah a benevolent smile.

“And who’s this little pebble here? Oh, I think I knew your grandma! You look a lot like her!”

Zelda wants to interrupt, but Purah nods vigorously. “Yeah, so I’ve been told! My sis looks a lot more like her, though. And you should see my grandniece, spitting image!”

“Grandniece—?” Daruk asks, frowning. Zelda giggles. 

“Daruk, this is Purah. I’m sure you remember her.”

Daruk’s expression goes from confused to understanding. “Oho, I see now! You always were up to some funny stuff, little buddy!”

“That funny stuff’s gonna save your life!” Purah replies, grinning widely. “Oh, can you move Rudania? We’re gonna have to get up top.”

She eyes up Vah Rudania, half perched on the caldera of Death Mountain. According to the map, its main terminal should be right at the very top of the Divine Beast. Daruk nods vigorously.

“Of course! Give me and Rudania a moment, okay? And you might want to step back.”

From a safe distance, Zelda gets to watch as Vah Rudania crawls over the edge of the caldera and sinks through its massive legs, lowering its body enough that they can climb onto it from some of the nearby rocky outcroppings. It has been over a century since she saw one of the Divine Beasts in motion. She wishes she had more time to appreciate the sight, but Link is still fighting the Calamity down there. They don’t have time to waste.

The main terminals on the Divine Beasts are at least uniform, so very quickly, they manage to connect the device to it. Zelda wonders, as she sends a first pulse of power through it for calibration, how she can use it afterwards. The technology of the Shrine of Resurrection is revolutionary. Making it portable would be a lifesaver for so many people.

“We’re set up,” Robbie announces. Zelda nods and increases the flow of her power. She’s not tired, not yet, but she’s starting to feel a bit of drain creep up on her. She is careful not to waste any power she can’t spare. There are still two champions after Daruk.

With the way Rudania is perched, she has an excellent view of the castle. She swallows. After Medoh’s attack, part of the castle has been blown away, but Ganon’s malice still swirls around it. Still, Daruk hasn’t said anything. She’ll take that as a sign that Link is still doing well.

“When your healing process finishes,” she says to Daruk, “you will need to take your gift from Link in order to wake up.” 

Daruk’s frown is almost audible. “You’re sure it can’t wait? He’s been using it rather a lot, you know.”

That isn’t the news she’d hoped for. Link is fighting the hardest fight of his life and she’s about to make it harder again. But at least he’ll have Rudania’s support very soon.

“I’m sorry, but yes,” she tells Daruk. “We cannot wake you up without it.” 

Daruk doesn’t reply, frown only growing more pronounced. He crosses his arms and taps wide fingers on his forearm, a nervous gesture Zelda is wholly unused to seeing from him. She focuses on the device again. Purah is carefully keeping track of the stasis chamber’s energy levels.

“Needing a little more here than for Medoh,” she says with a frown. Zelda glances up at Daruk’s massive form, several heads taller than Revali and probably a few hundred kilos heavier too. It makes sense. That doesn’t mean she likes it. In a fit of pique, she increases the energy flow.

“Careful there, princess! Can’t overload it, we’ve only got the one!” Robbie shouts. Zelda grimaces and slows down the power flow again. Oh, she truly hopes Link will be safe…

Finally, after at least half an hour more than it took her to bring back Revali, Daruk’s stasis chamber powers down. In that time, Link has used Daruk’s Protection three times and Daruk is looking increasingly worried.

“All right.” Zelda stands up, wincing when the soreness in her knees hits her. Her fireproof elixir has almost worn off and she feels stiff and tired. “Daruk, you need to take it back now.”

“Are you really sure?” Daruk asks, massive fists clenched. “If my body’s fine down there, we can wait a bit longer, right? I’ll just fire Rudania and—”

“We have no idea what effect firing the cannon will have now,” Purah warns. Zelda nods, trying to convey the urgency of her request.

“Please, the sooner you are back, the sooner we can go to Mipha.”

Daruk casts a last long look at the castle before closing his eyes. He brings his fists together and grits his teeth. The familiar ball of light forms in front of him and disappears inside his chest. Daruk disappears along with it.

Even after having already seen it once, seeing the main terminal unfold is still a work of art. The technology of the ancient Sheikah is so much more complicated and fascinating than she ever thought possible. Zelda peers over the edge just in time to see the stasis bed open up, revealing Daruk’s massive form inside. 

“Are you okay?” she calls down. With a grunt of effort, Daruk hoists himself upright. He does bear the scars of Fireblight Ganon: a large gash across his chest glints black in the light of Vah Rudania’s terminal. 

“Better than ever!” he calls up. “Ooh, gonna feel that tomorrow, though!”

It takes him a minute to climb out of the stasis chamber, with Zelda unable to help given his massive bulk. But then Daruk is in front of her again. He very, very carefully places a hand on her shoulder and Zelda almost tears up at the heavy weight of it. It has been so long since any of the champions were able to touch her. 

“Thank you, princess,” Daruk says, and he also sounds choked up. “I never thought I’d be standing here again.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, clearly relishing the hot air of Death Mountain. “Now then. Rudania, let’s show that bastard who’s boss!”

Rudania shifts underneath their feet, straightening up from where it was crouched. Zelda stumbles and Daruk steadies her again, eyes set on the castle. “Got it in sight? Okay, go!”

The massive blast cuts through the heated air of Death Mountain, over Eldin and into the castle. Zelda breathes out a sigh of relief. This should make Link’s life a little bit easier. 

“What now, princess?” Daruk says with an elated grin. “Wouldn’t mind hitting that bastard some more, if you ask me!”

Oh, why is every single champion so eager to run straight at their doom again? At least Daruk can’t fly. She takes the Sheikah Slate from Purah and finds one of the additional badges Purah and Robbie made. There are four of them and she never got to give Revali his. If he’d been wearing it, maybe she would have been able to drag him back in time.

Now she hands one to Daruk. “You could come with us to Mipha,” she says, “or go to Goron City… Or you could stay at Wetland Stable. Near Crenel Peak. Once the battle is over, we can all regroup there.”

Wetland Stable is closer to the battlefield than she likes, but she remembers the interminable trek it took her and Link to reach the stable that very first time. She doesn’t think that Daruk will make it to Windvane Meadow before Link defeats the Calamity.

“Is that where Revali went?” Daruk asks. Zelda can’t hide her grimace; Daruk chuckles. “Oh, I see. Well, can’t say I’m surprised. Wetland Stable will suit me just fine, princess.”

“All right, just…” Zelda looks up at him, hoping and hoping that he’ll listen. “Don’t go fight Ganon, please? Link has it handled.”

Link does not have it handled.

At least, he thought as much when Protection disappeared just as the Calamity got in close and swung its massive sword at him. The resulting hit nearly cleaved his Ancient Shield in half and had him blacking out for a moment. He almost expected to see Mipha, but fortunately the damage wasn’t quite that severe.

Still. He doesn’t have a lot of energy left.

Vah Rudania fires and Ganon screams in pain and anger. Link takes another minute to catch his breath, scarfing down one of the few apples he’d managed to tuck away. He breathes a sigh of relief: Daruk is back. That makes two champions alive, and gets them that much closer to finally being done with this cycle for good. But he sincerely hopes he won’t need to spend much longer in the castle. The wide open plains of Hyrule Field will give him more room to avoid the Beast until Zelda can return. He just needs to defeat this first form of the monster.

The ancient shield Robbie made for him is worse for wear; the ancient energy it projects is wavering. But it will be fine. He has another one and he’s quick on his feet.

Without Gale and Protection, he has to be.

Vah Ruta has moved when they arrive. Its front legs, which Zelda remembers resting on the edge of its lake, are now tucked solidly beneath it, lowering the entire Divine Beast so that its entrance is level with the edge of the lake.

And Mipha is already there. She turns around when Zelda, Purah and Robbie appear, gentle smile firmly in place. 

“I have been waiting for your arrival, Zelda,” she says, shaping a hand into Link’s hello sign. “ And Purah and Robbie, of course. I was able to see Medoh and Rudania fire. Tell me, are Revali and Daruk all right?”

“They are doing quite well,” Zelda says. At least, she hopes so. They dropped Daruk off at Wetland Stable. He insisted on getting his Boulder Breaker back and Zelda didn’t have the heart to keep it from him, not when he looked so entirely out of balance without it. She only hopes he won’t charge at the castle the moment they have their back turned.

“Ruta and I have been waiting for you,” Mipha continues. She gestures at the Divine Beast. Through its arches, Zelda can vaguely see the main terminal. This is where she discovered that the champions were still alive. She makes her way into the Divine Beast with sure steps, leading the way towards the main terminal. Mipha remains by her side, a comforting presence. 

“I am quite glad you were able to figure it out,” she says. “Will you tell me how it works?”

“Yes, of course.” Zelda didn’t expect Mipha to be interested in the exact workings of the Sheikah technology they scrounged together, but she is glad to talk her through it anyway. Mipha listens intently while they set up their device for a third time, and Zelda finds that it calms her nerves just a little bit. It has been hours and hours since she left Link in the castle, and with each champion they bring back, he loses a little more protection. 

“Connection open,” Purah announces. The process is familiar now. Zelda sends her power through the device, feels the ancient energy catch onto it and amplify it, and sees the main terminal light up as its protocols are rewired to form a genuine healing bed. 

Mipha presses a hand to her chest. 

“Oh, yes, I most certainly feel that. It feels so close now…” 

“Are you feeling all right?” Zelda asks. There’s no reason for doubt. The machine has already proven its success twice. And yet, she still fears that something will go wrong at the last minute. For a moment, her power falters and she has to close her eyes to regain her concentration. On Medoh, she used her power with reckless abandon, eager to get all the champions back as soon as possible. Now, she tries to temper it, afraid to overload the device. If it breaks, all of this will have been for naught.

Mipha gasps. Zelda looks up, heart sinking when she sees the look of concentration on her face, the way she has her hand outstretched towards an invisible person. When she opens her eyes again, her expression has transformed into pure worry.

“Link?” Zelda asks, afraid for the confirmation. Mipha nods. Of course, what else could it be?

“Is he all right?” she asks urgently. Mipha hesitates for a moment.

“Yes, I believe so. He is in the castle. I… I couldn’t see much, it was very dark.”

Still in the castle. She’d hoped that by this point, Ganon would have reverted to its Dark Beast form already. That would have given Link a lot more space. Perhaps, with Ruta’s attack… 

Against her better judgment, she ups the power.

It hasn’t been a full hour before Vah Ruta’s stasis chamber shuts down, far faster than it took either Medoh or Rudania. Perhaps it is because Mipha is even smaller than Revali. Or because Mipha’s own healing powers have already worked their way towards her recovery. Whatever the reason, Zelda is grateful for it. Worry sits heavy in her stomach. Even with the support of the ancient energy, her power is depleting. She is not meant to heal the damage of a century in just an hour. If she does not hurry, she will not have the energy remaining to defeat the Calamity. 

It has been a very long time since she had to worry about her energy levels. She swallows. What if she still isn’t strong enough and, by bringing back the champions, she’s set the Calamity loose on Hyrule?

“What should I do?” Mipha asks, snapping Zelda out of her thoughts. Right.

“Your gift, to Link. You should take it back.”

“I see… Yes, I suppose there would be no other way.” Mipha’s expression is still deeply worried, but she doesn’t protest Zelda’s words. Instead, Zelda gets to witness how, for the third time, Link loses one of the gifts the champions granted him. She has no time to ruminate on it, for a moment later, Mipha’s spirit disappears and Purah unlocks the stasis chamber. 

Mipha looks so much slighter down in the stasis bed than Zelda remembers her. She clambers over the unfolding panels of the main terminal and drops down into the chamber. Mipha gracefully accepts her hand and lets herself be pulled up.

“It is so good to see you again, Zelda,” she says softly. Her hand folds around Zelda’s own. “Are you feeling quite all right? I could perhaps spare some of my own power.”

Zelda shakes her head. Mipha may feel all right, but she will not let her exhaust herself so soon after being brought back. A large, jagged scar runs across her abdomen, like a spear thrust in and yanked out again. Mipha notices her look and folds a hand over her stomach with a slight smile.

“It no longer hurts. You shouldn’t worry.”

Zelda helps her climb out of the stasis chamber. Mipha crouches down and places a solid hand on the floor. “Vah Ruta, thank you,” she says. “Now, will you lend me your support once more?”

Vah Ruta rumbles in obvious agreement. Mipha closes her eyes and the Divine Beast rears up from its resting position, creating waves that slosh over the arched windows and into the chamber of the main terminal. Zelda steps back to avoid the spray and has to hold on to the terminal when the entire Divine Beast trembles.

She doesn’t see Vah Ruta fire. But she feels the air heat up, feels how the machine recoils from the blast. Mipha opens her eyes again with a satisfied smile. She holds out a hand to Zelda.

“Shall we continue?”

Link can only be grateful that he loses Mipha’s gift after she’s had to revive him, and not before. The one benefit of his near-death experiences is that Mipha always manages to heal him fully afterwards, so he is full of energy again, his cuts and bruises have healed instantly and the ever-increasing pain in his muscles has faded. 

Honestly, his death was a stupid thing: he’d only been trying to dodge one of Ganon’s Guardian-like beams instead of deflecting it. He’d just lost his first shield and he’d wanted to spare his remaining one. He crouches behind that shield now. He’s sure Ganon can’t take much more. It looks terrible, gashes from the Master Sword bleeding Malice. Just a little bit more and it will be forced out onto Hyrule Field, where he’ll be able to corral it until Zelda arrives.

He hears the hum of Ruta’s attack before it impacts, which gives him just enough time to duck out of the way. This third attack crashes through the east side of the castle and blows a hole through which he can finally see daylight. Ganon screeches, a terrible, violent sound that brings joy to Link’s heart. He knows that scream. He’s heard it seven times already. This form of Ganon has been defeated.

It bursts apart into a wave of Malice. Link throws up an arm to cover his eyes, and opens them again expecting to see the familiar plains of Windvane Meadow. Only he doesn’t. He’s still in the castle and Ganon isn’t here.

Link breathes deeply, fear gripping his heart. Where is it? If he set it free to rampage across Hyrule… He ducks through the opening that Ruta left and climbs up to the nearest tower still standing. Where did it go? What did they miss? Why has Link suddenly been left behind—

Oh. Of course. Zelda was here, every time before. Zelda sent him after Ganon. Without her, he’s stuck in the castle, miles away from where Ganon’s massive form has appeared. He sees it now, knocking over the trees in Passeri Greenbelt. He has to go after it. 

The Dark Beast bellows, a roar that cuts through him and sends a shiver of fear down his spine. He’s never seen it roar like that. He’s never seen the Malice around it swirl up into the skies, sending out its tendrils towards the rest of Hyrule. He takes a running leap and jumps off the tower, snapping open the paraglider to carry him across the ramparts and into Castle Town. Gale is gone; he won’t get as far as he usually does. Once he lands in Castle Town he won’t get enough height to use the paraglider again.

He viciously misses the Sheikah Slate, even more than he did during the fight. If he had the Sheikah Slate, he could warp to Central Tower or get out his Master Cycle and catch up with the Dark Beast. Now he only has the paraglider and, after that, his own two feet.

As Link crosses the castle moat, the Dark Beast turns. Its eyes are fixed on him, Link thinks, even though he has no idea how that’s possible. He is just a tiny speck in the air compared to its massive towering form. 

But any questions about the Calamity’s eyesight are instantly erased when a horribly familiar beeping cuts through the gusts of wind. A single continuous beep at first, and then rapidly overlaid by a second, and a third. Red finds his torso, and Link twists around and drops out of the air when the Guardians — for they must be Guardians — fire. 

The beams explode overhead, buffeting him and throwing him further down into Castle Town. He draws his Ancient Bow on reflex, wondering—

Yesterday, he wiped Castle Town clean of Guardians. There was no Blood Moon last night; Zelda’s control was much too strong for that. So how— Where—?

He twists around mid-air and sees.

The giant pillars that appeared in the wake of the Calamity’s rise, the ones he’d never known the function of, are spitting out Guardians. Fully intact Guardians: Stalkers, Skywatchers, even the tiny scouts he’s found in the shrines. The ones Ganon sent after them to Fort Hateno all those years ago had merely been an advance force. And without Zelda to keep the Calamity contained, here is the rest.

Link catches the blue, mechanical eye of the nearest Guardian and nocks an arrow, only one thought flashing through his head.

Zelda, please hurry up.

Mipha does not elect to go to Wetland Stable and join Daruk. Instead she insists on joining Zelda and helping her revive Urbosa, wishing to help her conserve as much energy as possible. 

They arrive to find Vah Naboris already lowered to the ground, granting them easy access. Zelda directs Purah and Robbie towards the main terminal and turns around in a slow circle.

“Urbosa?” she calls anxiously. Why isn’t she here? What if something happened to her?

“Out here, little bird,” Urbosa’s voice comes from afar. Then, seconds later, she appears in front of Zelda. Zelda breathes a sigh of relief; Revali’s escape act and Daruk’s cheerful willingness to charge into danger have left her more rattled than she wants to admit. She does not think she can handle any more surprises. 

“It is so very good to see you,” Urbosa says, though her face is pinched. Her eyes land on Mipha. “And Mipha. I see my little bird has succeeded admirably.”

Mipha laughs, a gentle tinkling sound that helps ease Zelda’s nerves. “I never expected anything else.”

Urbosa’s eyes linger on the jagged, frayed edges of the scar on Mipha’s abdomen. Mipha draws Link’s borrowed Hylian cape closer around her. Before they left, they had soaked the cape in the water of Vah Ruta’s lake, to shield Mipha from the dry desert wind. 

“Is everything okay?” Zelda asks. Urbosa glances over her shoulder again.

“Yes, I do believe so. Just a few pests. Naboris took care of them.”

Zelda winces. She does not like Naboris wasting energy.

“What happened?” Mipha asks. She peers past Urbosa, trying to catch a glimpse of the outside. Down here, in the center of Vah Naboris, only a few rays of sunlight make it through. 

“Guardians.” Urbosa shrugs. “Always had a couple around here, but it seems like they’re on the move now.”

Mipha makes a soft sound of alarm. “Do you think they are trying to reach Ganon?” she asks. Urbosa lets out a hearty laugh.

“These ones sure won’t! Let them try, they will never reach their master in time.”

Yes, she’s right. Zelda feels a heavy weight lift. Let them try, indeed. Even if Ganon is trying to recall its Guardians, only a few will make it to the castle in time, and Link is more than capable of dispatching those.

“Princess?” Purah shouts. “Other princess? You giving us a hand here?”

“Right away!” Zelda calls, hurrying back to the main terminal. Mipha follows after her and waits until Purah and Robbie give their okay before crouching down next to Zelda. She places cool hands on top of Zelda’s.

“Shall we bring an end to this?” she asks, amber eyes catching on Zelda’s. Zelda smiles, sending her own power through the device and feeling Mipha’s power as a cool, soothing trickle flowing through her arms.

“Slowly, at first!” Purah warns. “We haven’t done this with Mipha yet, don’t want any unforeseen issues now!”

Yes, definitely not. They are so close. 

Urbosa snaps her fingers. Zelda looks up just in time to see her open her eyes. “Looks like a couple of Guardians made it there already,” she muses. “He’s in the forest. I believe those were the sacred grounds.”

Right. Zelda grimaces and increases her power flow. Without the power of the Goddess to carry him, Link must chase the Calamity out onto Hyrule Field. She will need to apologize to him later on. 

“Careful there!” Purah warns. Zelda pulls back. No, no rushing it, no matter how much she wants to. They are so very close. She cannot ruin it by messing up at the very last moment.

But Mipha’s help makes her stronger. It heals some of the exhaustion that has been slowly creeping up and accelerates the flow of her own power. And soon, much sooner than any other champion, Purah steps away from the terminal, a bright smile on her face.

“We’re done!” she announces. “All yours now, Lady Urbosa!”

Urbosa folds her arms and raises an eyebrow. Zelda gets up and helps Mipha stand with her. 

“Your gift,” she says. “Your lightning. You need to take it back. Then you will wake up.” Then all champions will be back. Then this will all, finally, be over.

Urbosa takes a deep breath. Then, in a scene already intimately familiar to Zelda, the gift she gave Link, the missing part of her soul, floats towards her and coalesces into a little ball. Their final missing piece.

It hits Urbosa’s chest and disappears, taking Urbosa’s spirit along with it. Zelda moves towards the main terminal in small, measured steps. Her entire body feels like a live wire. The main terminal unfolds before her eyes. Zelda clutches at the edge and peers inside.

There is Urbosa, sitting up with the stately grace Zelda knows her for. Zelda feels herself tear up. She’s here. They’re all here.

She leans over the edge and holds out a hand. Urbosa allows Zelda to pull her up and out of the stasis bed that formed her shelter for so many long years. Like Mipha, she didn’t escape the battle with the Blight unscathed. Down her left arm and across her side, lightning scars branch out like ferns across her skin. But she is standing under her own power, fully healed and alive.

“ You’re back,” Zelda whispers, her voice catching on a sob. Urbosa nods, eyes teary as well. She opens her arms and Zelda falls into the hug. She’s been waiting for this for so long. It’s over. They’re done. 

“You did well, little bird,” Urbosa says as Zelda tucks deeper into her embrace. “Now, Vah Naboris, let’s bring an end to this.”

The Dark Beast did not set its sights on the rest of Hyrule. Instead, once it noticed Link following, it turned around and charged straight back at Castle Town. Link met it in the middle, using the Sacred Grounds to hide. It cannot spot him here. The only risk he runs is that it decides to crush the grounds entirely.

But he doesn’t get the time to catch his breath. The Guardians surge, endless and unstoppable, numbers he hasn’t seen since the Calamity appeared and even then, he doesn’t remember quite as many of them. He had to flee Castle Town. His arrow stock is not nearly sufficient to take on the continuous stream of Guardians, especially since he needs the arrows to fend off the Calamity as well. 

He parries another blast, glancing worriedly at his shield. He is surprised it held out so long. More than once, he’s caught himself reaching for the Sheikah Slate, hoping for another weapon or a rune that could keep the monsters at bay. But Zelda has the slate, and Zelda is fulfilling a far more important mission.

Just one left, he reminds himself when he uses Urbosa’s Fury for what might be the last time. Just one more champion, and then the last Divine Beast will fire. Then Zelda will seal away the Calamity once and for all.

Just a little more.

The Guardians set the forest ablaze. Link is almost grateful for it: it gives him the updrafts he lost when Revali woke up. But his flight doesn’t last long. The Guardians’ reach is immense — even in the air he isn’t safe. He swerves out of their reach, but there’s always another one ready to set its sights on him. Link tightens his hands around the frame of the paraglider until it creaks. The Dark Beast is close now. He’d hoped to move further into Hyrule Field, but its charge is forcing him back towards Castle Town. Link aims and fires — one arrow, and another. 

And then Fury disappears.

His chest feels empty again, hollowed out, but for once he is glad for it. Urbosa is safe now. They are all alive, and awake, and very soon Zelda will come. 

He catches it when Vah Naboris fires: a distant gleam in the south that grows rapidly brighter and then streaks across Hyrule Field with immaculate precision. He barely has the time to swerve out of the way. The Dark Beast is too slow and lumbering to avoid it. It has nearly been defeated and Link can’t wait to see them all again. He can’t wait—

Pain blossoms bright through his back, tears through his armor and makes him lose his grip. He’s falling— falling and all he can see around him, above him and coming up behind him is blue.

Zelda is euphoric when they appear at Wetland Stable, buoyed by the joy that is having all the champions back. She will only be here for a moment, just to get everyone safe and far away from the battlefield. And then she can finally defeat the Calamity for good. 

Her euphoria does not survive past her first two steps away from the shrine. 

The stable is in uproar, people yelling and pointing. Across the road, there’s Daruk, Boulder Breaker in hand and the remains of several Guardians shoved to the side. He catches sight of them and rushes over.

“The Guardians!” he booms. “They came from Lanayru, but, princess, look!”

Zelda turns around. Mipha lets out a horrified gasp, hands going to her face.

“Link!”

The pillars, always so static before, are spewing out Guardians. Endless waves, all heading towards the battlefield.

“You have to go,” Urbosa says, grabbing her arm. Zelda nods, heart in her throat. She pushes the Sheikah Slate into Purah’s hands.

“Follow after me!” she shouts. With the power that still remains within her, she moves, away from the stable and straight onto the battlefield. The shockwave takes out the closest cohort of Guardians. She casts a desperate eye around for Link, but she doesn’t find him.

She finds Revali instead. 

Desperately dodging the Calamity, firing arrows three at a time. His face contorts when he catches sight of her.

“What took you so long!” he screams. Zelda doesn’t reply, cannot reply. She closes her eyes, fighting the urge to look for Link — Where is he? She doesn’t bother with the Bow of Light. There are too many enemies now and she needs them gone.

She doesn’t know where she finds the last reserve of her power. Only that it washes over Castle Town and Hyrule Field, that it tears down the Guardians and entraps the Calamity. She forces all of her power into it, crushing it and sealing it away again. For good.

Revali doesn’t even wait for her to finish sealing the Calamity. He dives down, towards the ruins of Castle Town where, between the wrecks of the Guardians, Zelda can make out a small, battered figure.

Her heart stops.

“Do something!” Revali shouts. He’s at Link’s side before she is, turning him over with trembling wings and tugging his helmet off. Zelda drops down, uncaring of the jagged stone. Link is so still, so very still. His face is slack, eyes closed. Large parts of his armor are gone, the burnt blue of his champion’s tunic visible underneath.

“What happened?” she asks. She feels cold. Terribly, terribly cold. She finds one final trickle of power and puts her hands on his chest, trying, trying—

“What does it look like?” Revali snaps. “Where’s Mipha, why the hell didn’t you bring Mipha?”

“She’s on her way.” Zelda looks around desperately. Why is the nearest shrine so far? “Link, please, come on!” 

But Link doesn’t react. Her vision goes grey around the edges. Even now, it’s not enough. It’s still not enough.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there. She hears Revali shout as from a distance, hears running footsteps coming closer. She feels Mipha fall down next to her gracelessly, hands already glowing with the power Zelda doesn’t have. She can’t focus, can’t think. She finally had them back!

“It’s not working!” Mipha says, voice going shrill in panic. Zelda casts around wildly. If even Mipha’s power doesn’t work, then— Then—

“Purah, the Shrine of Resurrection! We have to take him there, we can still save him!”

Purah steps forward, face white as a sheet. She holds out the Sheikah Slate to Zelda, map already open.

“Princess—” she begins, but Zelda doesn’t hear what she has to say. Cannot hear anything else over the rushing of blood in her ears. Because right there on the map, where the icon for the Shrine of Resurrection should be, is only a blank space. Link’s Divine Beast has sealed itself off. Its champion is dead. 

Chapter Text

It is a beautiful day. 

Somehow, in spite of everything, this is what Zelda notices. It is a beautiful day. With Ganon gone, the miasma of Malice has disappeared, leaving only bright blue skies and a warm afternoon sun. 

It is a beautiful day. Castle Town is littered with Guardians and between them, small and fragile and broken, is Link.

The Shrine of Resurrection. It may not be accessible to them directly anymore, but there are plenty of shrines on the Great Plateau that will get them close. Robbie and Purah made a much longer journey to get Link there a century ago. If there is any spark of life left within him, the shrine will draw it out and heal him. Even if it takes years. Even if it takes another century. 

But Link — the Link she remembers at Fort Hateno — had been breathing. He had been on the verge of death, but the Master Sword had spoken to her. Had told her that he could still be saved. The Master Sword is sheathed now, lying a little ways away, the strap that tied it to Link’s back broken.

Zelda gets up on shaky legs, stumbles over to where it is lying and gently, carefully picks it up. “Please,” she whispers. If the Goddess ever listened to her at all, please let Her listen now. “Please, tell me what to do.”

But the Master Sword remains utterly still.

This is what breaks her. The Shrine of Resurrection may be Link’s, but he never quite understood it. He never had the same connection to it that the champions have with their Divine Beasts, and she does not expect it to mourn him like the Divine Beasts did. But the Master Sword? She has never once seen Link without the Master Sword. Link had been introduced to her as the Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals The Darkness, an unfathomable task for the child he had been at the time. If even the sword is silent in her hands, then that really means… That truly means that Link is…

She sobs, curling around the Master Sword. Behind her, she hears Mipha crying, Revali shouting. Why now, when they finally succeeded? Why now, when all the champions are back, alive, standing around her? This should have been a joyous occasion. She’s looked forward to this moment ever since she realized there was a chance. And now here they are, all of them, and what should have been a celebration has become a tragedy. 

Someone comes up behind her and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Come, little bird,” Urbosa says. “We shouldn’t remain here.”

Zelda curls tighter around the Master Sword. 

“Link is—” she sobs. Urbosa draws her into a hug. 

“I know,” she says, voice breaking. “But this is no place to stay. Come. We must talk.”

She guides Zelda back to where Link is— where the others are standing. Mipha is crying, trying very hard not to make a sound and failing miserably. Revali has stopped shouting. He’s now off to the side, bent low and moving rubble. Daruk wipes a massive hand across his face, crouches down and picks up Link’s body. In Daruk’s arms, he looks like a ragdoll: small and limp and lifeless. Another sob catches in her throat. What are they going to do?

“Let us go somewhere else,” Urbosa says. Zelda feels empty. Somewhere else? She thinks of the Great Plateau, with the shrine that cannot save Link. Of Hateno Village and Link’s house, still bearing the traces of his existence. She gestures weakly at Purah. Let someone else figure it out.

Purah doesn’t immediately select a destination for them. Instead, she steps up to where Revali is shifting rubble, carefully tapping him on the shoulder and holding out the badge to the Sheikah Slate she never got the chance to give him. If she had just done as Revali asked and taken him to the castle, would Link still have been alive?

Revali straightens up and snatches the badge from Purah without a word. In his wings, he’s holding a bundle of splintered wood and burned cloth — Link’s paraglider. More than once, after the battle, she’s sat with Link while he checked it for damage. Now it is well beyond repair. 

“Princess,” Purah says softly. She holds out the Sheikah Slate, open on the map and with a shrine already selected. Kaam Ya’tak, a shrine she’s never been to and feels no desire to go to either. Had Link taken her there, she would have been ecstatic at the chance to enter it. Now the thought only leaves her feeling hollow. 

Mount Daphnes, where the shrine is located, was named for an ancient king, a far-flung ancestor of hers whose claims to fame have long been forgotten. Zelda has no use for the history of a kingdom in ruins. All that matters now is that the place is quiet, far away from any known settlements, and will afford them a moment’s rest away from the castle and the remains of this horrid battle. So she doesn’t dispute Purah’s choice, only moves all of them away from Castle Town and to the shrine at the foot of the hill. That is where she stops. She makes no attempt at climbing the hill, doesn’t try to go any further. She just steps off the pedestal of the shrine and sits down in the hollow that the shrine created, clutching the Master Sword to her side.

Daruk is still holding Link’s body. Only now does she realize that without a badge, Link might have remained in Castle Town. But he’s not a person anymore, is he? Clearly the Sheikah Slate counts his body as nothing more than an object, brought along just as easily as any of the weapons he used to carry with him. 

No soul, no life, just an empty shell.

Daruk gently lowers Link’s body onto the sparse grass in front of the shrine. Mipha is still crying, soft, stifled sobs. Revali paces, first uphill and then back down again, one wing fluttering in agitation. The other is still holding Link’s paraglider. Zelda looks away before the sight burns her, tightening her own hold on the Master Sword. 

There are things to be done. They need… She has little hope left, but if Hylia has ever held any love for them at all, then in five days, there is still a chance. But they cannot leave Link’s body like this. They need to bury him, or bring his body to a place where it won’t—

“I do hope you’re satisfied, your Highness,” Revali sneers, “with the outcome of this little plan of yours. I must say, your success rate is astounding.”

Zelda’s head snaps up, fury flooding the hollow space in her gut. Revali is standing a few meters away, up on the ledge that leads to the actual mountain. His eyes are blazing as he glares down at her. 

“Revali!” Urbosa cautions, but Zelda holds up a hand. She gets up as gracefully as she can manage, pulling on her years of royal education to become Princess Zelda, future Queen of Hyrule, Incarnation of the Goddess. 

“Speak plainly, Champion. If you have any grievance, state it now.”

“Grievance?” Revali echoes. He glances at Link before his eyes snap back to Zelda. “Your Chosen Hero is dead on the ground, and you don’t see any problem with this?”

Oh, how dare he! “This is not an outcome any of us wished for,” she says coldly. “But it is paramount that we look ahead, and find a solution for the situation we are faced with—”

Revali laughs, loud and mocking. “‘Paramount that we look ahead’. How utterly anodyne of you, princess. Truly, you are a shining example of your lineage.”

For some unfathomable reason, Link liked this champion. Enough to be hurt by his actions and carry that pain with him for days on end. “What would you have me do? If I could bring him back, I would do so in a heartbeat. There is no part of me that does not mourn what happened—”

“You killed my best friend!” Revali screeches. Zelda’s breath catches in her throat. How dare he— How dare he insinuate that she—

“He’s my best friend too!” she screams. She is no longer Princess Zelda, or the Incarnation of the Goddess, but just Zelda, and one of the few people who knew her is dead in front of her, and now this champion dare accuse her of having killed him? “Do you think I wanted this? It was never like this, Ganon never acted like this! This wasn’t the plan!”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Daruk step forward, unsure who to go to. She pays him no mind, eyes focused solely on Revali. 

“Then perhaps, princess, you ought to have come up with a plan that didn’t kill him!”

“And I’m sure Champion Revali has some suggestions,” Zelda spits. Revali scoffs, drawing himself up to his full height.

“In fact, I do. How about, the next time you send someone to fight for their life, you don’t take their best means of escape and protection from them first?” He gestures widely at himself and Daruk. Gale and Protection, the first gifts Link lost. Ones that could have helped him escape the Guardians. Zelda clenches her hands to fists. 

“And why exactly do you think that was, Revali? Do you really think we didn’t consider this? If you truly wish to know, Link was the one who insisted you be revived first. And do you know why?”

Revali falls silent, green eyes widening. For once, he has no retort. Mipha nears her, a placating hand outstretched. 

“Zelda—” 

“Because you couldn’t be trusted to follow the plan! Do you truly think this was our first attempt at bringing you back? Oh, Link asked you not to fire Medoh. But of course the great Champion Revali had too much pride to just listen, even when it could save his life! You want to know why Link asked you be brought back first? Because you ruined our last plan!”

Revali finally looks struck dumb, Zelda notices with grim satisfaction. He is still holding Link’s paraglider, and she wants to demand it back. It’s not his to hold on to. He has no right to anything of Link’s.

“That’s not how it went,” Mipha says. 

Zelda tears her eyes away from Revali and looks at the other champions. Mipha has stepped in-between the two of them. Behind her, Zelda spots Daruk’s expression crumbling. He looks small and defeated, and she feels a momentary pang of regret. Mipha, in contrast, has drawn herself up to her full height, face determined.

“I would have fired too, Zelda. Link knew that.” Mipha takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “I told him that.”

The shock of Mipha taking Revali’s side over hers is quickly washed away when Mipha’s words actually register. Zelda is struck as speechless as Revali is, trying to form words that suddenly seem very far away. Is this how Link feels?

“You remember?” she asks, voice wavering. Mipha nods, small but decisive.

“I don’t know how much time has passed, or how many more times you’ve done this,” she says to Zelda, “but I remember how Link asked us not to fire. All of us were reluctant.” She glances over her shoulder at the other champions. They look just as baffled as Zelda herself does — they do not recall what Mipha does. “But we tried. And Link… He almost died, then. We saw it happen, Revali and Daruk and I. If they hadn’t fired, I would have.”

She throws an apologetic glance at Daruk. Daruk, if possible, looks even smaller. In her anger at Revali, Zelda had failed to consider the conclusions Daruk would draw, and it pains her now. Daruk, two loops ago, had told her of his own reasons, and how Revali’s were probably the same.

But it is hard to accept, especially when Revali’s actions afterwards hurt Link so much. She focuses on something else.

“How is it that you remember?” she asks. Mipha had ended that loop alive, but still locked in the stasis chamber on Vah Ruta, with no way to heal her just yet. Urbosa had been in that same situation, though, and she clearly doesn’t remember any of it. 

“I do not know.” Mipha’s eyes gain a faraway look. “I did not quite remember at first, I felt as if I were caught in a haze. But when Link came to Vah Ruta, and when he told me I was alive still, I remembered. Purah discovering that we still lived… It was such a shock.” She flashes a quick smile at Purah, who, along with Robbie, has wisely retreated a little further downhill. “I do not know why I was allowed to retain this knowledge, but if I had to wager…” she folds her hands in front of her, glowing with the power that allows her to heal even the direst of wounds. Except for these. Except for the ones Link sustained. If they had left Mipha for last, if Link still had her gift with him when the Guardians arose, would he have lived? Was Revali right?

Zelda shakes herself out of it and focuses on what Mipha is actually saying. Two loops ago, before Purah had discovered that the champions were still alive, Link had returned Mipha’s healing grace to her. A final missing part of her spirit. So Mipha had, in fact, seen the end of that loop with her body alive and her soul intact, even if both pieces had remained separate.

Was that it? What other explanation is there?

“So please, do not accuse any of us of not caring,” Mipha continues. Revali abruptly looks away. “We must go on together.”

Zelda swallows. “Yes, you are right… I’m—” She can’t yet bring herself to apologize to Revali. Revali huffs, but at least he doesn’t continue arguing. “We should consider what to do next.”

Urbosa takes over for her then, and Zelda is eminently grateful for it. “I believe we all have homes and families we would like to return to,” she says. Revali looks down. So does Mipha. “Before that, however, we should bury Link. He does not deserve to be left out here.”

Zelda flinches. So does just about everyone else gathered in this little clearing. Even if by some miracle they do find a way to bring him back, they cannot leave his body out in the open. “Link has a house in Hateno Village,” she says. “I believe it is best he be laid to rest there.”

“Then that is where we shall go,” Urbosa says. Her voice gentles. “Little bird, you mustn’t despair. You have lived these days many times, have you not? I am certain that Link will return to us. This is not yet the end.”

This brings some hope to the other champions. But Zelda, by contrast, only feels very small and hopeless. She holds the Master Sword tighter, fingers clenching around the sheath.

“Little bird?”

“Last time,” Zelda begins, haltingly. “There is a monk under the Shrine of Resurrection. The Goddess doesn’t provide me with any guidance, so I thought it wise to talk to him. He told me… The way to break out of this cycle was to revive you.”

And all the champions are now alive in front of her. If Maz Koshia was right, then Link truly is…

“You mean this is it?!” Revali’s voice goes shrill on the last word. “So he’s dead and you’re telling me that your Goddess won’t even care?”

For once, Zelda can’t bring herself to disagree with him. Hylia has never bothered to talk to her at all. 

“Revali…” Mipha says, but Revali doesn’t give her a chance to speak. He crouches down. Zelda already knows what he’s going to do before he does it, but she cannot muster the energy to stop him. 

“Next time you run into a crisis, princess, leave us Rito out of it!”

The gale winds take him up, paraglider now held in his claws. Urbosa makes a move to stop him, but it only takes him a few wingbeats before he is high up above, and then out of sight as he disappears behind Mount Daphnes.

They bury Link under the tree behind his house.

Mid-afternoon, Hateno Village is buzzing with life, even more so now that news of the Calamity’s defeat is slowly filtering to all of Hyrule. But Link’s house is close to the nearby shrine, and with the center of activity deeper into the village, they manage to get there undetected. It would have been a strange scene for anyone who caught sight of them: A Hylian, two Sheikah, a Gerudo, a Zora and a Goron all clustering into the same garden around the dead body of the house’s owner. 

They remove the pieces of broken armor but leave Link’s Champion’s tunic, burnt and frayed as it is. Zelda doesn’t know how she feels about it. Link was the Chosen Hero and without him, they never could have defeated Ganon or brought back the champions. But would he really wish to be remembered as merely the Hero of Destiny? 

She tries to say a few words but can’t, and the other champions prove to be equally unable. They are caught in a strange limbo. She hopes dearly that time will turn back again in five days and that she will wake up in the castle. But what if she doesn’t? 

She keeps the Master Sword. If time moves on in five days, she will return it to the Lost Woods. But until then, there is still a modicum of hope she clings onto, and as long as she has that, she will keep the sword on her. 

She turns away when Daruk closes the grave again, unable to witness Link disappearing from her sight. Link kept the keys to his house in the Sheikah Slate, so Zelda unlocks the door with little trouble. Her breath hitches when she steps inside. The place is clean, the way she remembers Link keeping it. But there are little signs of Link’s presence here just this morning: a washcloth still drying in the kitchen, a piece of paper left on the table, the empty places where the champions’ weapons normally hang on the wall. Link was here this morning, ate here and left here to face Ganon. There is food left in the pantry. He must have expected to come back here tonight, perhaps with all of them. Now they are all back, but Link is buried in his own backyard. 

 Urbosa and Mipha enter behind her in solemn silence. Mipha is tearing up again when she takes in the house. Like Zelda so many times before her, her eyes quickly settle on the champions’ picture on the first floor.

“I remember that,” she whispers. “I didn’t know it had survived.”

Zelda can only nod. The sight in that picture is what she wished for so many times. Now they have everyone except Link.

She had entertained vague thoughts of spending the night in Link’s house until she could figure out what to do, but now that she is actually here, she cannot bear the idea. She goes outside again, where Daruk, Purah and Robbie still remain. Mipha and Urbosa follow her quickly, clearly not willing to stay inside either.

“What do you wish to do?” Zelda asks the gathered champions. Revali is already off to who-knows-where, probably to Medoh again. If she really wanted to, she could probably intercept him there, but she feels absolutely no desire to see him and she is certain that the feeling is mutual. 

“I should go,” Robbie says, subdued. “Jerrin must be worried sick by now, and there are Guardians near Tarrey Town. My boy’s probably fine, but…” 

“You tell him his auntie Purah said hi!” Purah says, but her usual cheer is muted. “I should probably get back too, Symin will want to know what happened.”

“Well, if we’ve only got a couple days,” Daruk says with a forced smile, “I sure wouldn’t mind checking out what became of Goron City! I’ve got a grandkid running around there somewhere, saw him a few times from Rudania.”

“Yes, me too. I have long wished to see my father and brother again. I shall travel to Zora’s Domain and meet with them,” Mipha says, though her voice wavers when she does. That leaves Urbosa, who will probably travel back to Gerudo Town and connect with its young chief. From what Link has told her, the Gerudo chieftain would be happy for her guidance.

Everyone has someone who will welcome them. And Zelda is left alone with a castle reduced to rubble. Link’s house, which has become so familiar to her over the last few months, now feels like a tomb and she longs to be away from it.

“Why don’t you join me in Gerudo Town?” Urbosa says gently, laying a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “You will be most welcome there.”

If she could, Zelda would just spend the next few days hidden away somewhere. But Urbosa will not let her languish on her own. So she nods. Perhaps she can disappear in the hustle of Gerudo Town while Urbosa meets with its chief. 

She takes the Sheikah Slate just so she has something to do with her hands. “I could take you all home now,” she says. Purah and Robbie nod, but Daruk makes a considering noise.

“Wouldn’t mind taking in some of the sights, princess,” he says. “It’s been a very long time since I got to see Eldin. Think you can drop me off at the base of Death Mountain? Get the blood pumping before I get to Goron City.”

“I also wouldn’t mind swimming the rivers again,” Mipha says. Zelda peers closer at the map on the Sheikah Slate. 

“Then perhaps I could take you to Inogo Bridge. It would bring both of you part of the way there.”

It is a plan both Daruk and Mipha can agree to. No one seems eager to remain standing on Link’s front porch, when the sounds of revelry are so close, and someone could pass by any moment. So Zelda takes Purah home first, and then Robbie. She doesn’t linger; she feels like a coward leaving Purah and Robbie to explain things, but she does not know how she can talk about what happened without breaking down. Perhaps, in five days, everything will be okay again. Or perhaps this is the beginning of her life as incumbent ruler of Hyrule. A lonely ruler, with very few people by her side.

“We will meet soon,” Mipha tells her when they say their goodbyes at Soh Kofi Shrine. Daruk just nods, places a massive hand on her head and gives her an unconvincing grin before climbing up on the ledge leading away from the shrine. Mipha does too, and Zelda stands at the shrine and watches until she sees Mipha appear below and dive into the waters of Zora River with practiced grace. The champions are going home. And Zelda is left without any home at all.

Ever since Link freed her from the castle for the very first time, the largest settlement Zelda has been to is Hateno Village. Hateno might have been well on its way to growing into a town before the Calamity struck, but ever since, it was reduced in size like most of Hyrule’s remaining settlements.

However, Gerudo Town was always kept safe by the deserts surrounding it. The Guardians couldn’t find a grip on the loose sands and never reached it. The monsters might have been a nuisance, but that was nothing the Gerudo couldn’t handle. 

So when she and Urbosa approach the town gates, Zelda can already hear the bustle of a busy market in the distance. Urbosa pauses in front of the great walls, a complicated expression on her face.

“I do wonder how it has changed,” she mutters. Then she steps up to the town guards, guiding Zelda along with her.

“Vasaaq,” the guard on the left greets. In deference to Zelda, she continues in Hylian. “What brings you here today, travelers?”

Zelda knows less of the Gerudo language than she would like. Urbosa taught her some, but her father had not thought it a worthwhile pursuit for a Hylian princess. If she ever gets the chance, she will rectify that.

“Sav’aaq,” Urbosa returns, sounding a little choked up. “We have come a long way and are looking for shelter for the night.”

“Then enter, and be welcome.” The right-hand guard gestures for them to pass. Zelda nods her thanks and follows Urbosa as she enters Gerudo Town for the first time in over a century.

Urbosa is quiet as they cross the colorful town square, taking in the sights and sounds of a bustling marketplace. Zelda sticks close to her side, afraid to be recognized, but why should anyone recognize just another Hylian vai in simple traveler’s clothes? No one even recognizes Urbosa. 

“Are you okay?” she asks softly. Urbosa nods, eyes going from stall to stall and eventually coming to a stop on the large stairs leading up to the palace. 

“I believe we should talk to the current chief,” she says with a glance at Zelda. “I know it is not your desire, little bird, but if we are to remain here for the night, she should be aware of our presence.”

Zelda had hoped to put off the politics for a little while longer. But Urbosa is right, as always. Gerudo Town deserves to know that the Calamity has been defeated and that its long-lost champion has been returned to them, even if it is merely temporary.

Zelda hopes with all her heart that it is temporary.

They ascend the wide stairs and come to a halt in front of the guards. Urbosa pauses at a respectful distance. 

“We wish to speak to the chief,” she says. The guards eye them suspiciously. 

“What business do you have with Lady Riju?” the one on the left asks. 

“We bring tidings of the Calamity’s defeat,” Zelda says. The guards look taken aback. 

“We had noticed… A moment, please.” 

One of the guards disappears inside. Through the opened curtains, Zelda watches her approach the throne that used to belong to Urbosa and talk to the person sitting on it. The Gerudo chief is far smaller than Urbosa is. Zelda remembers how Link told her that Lady Riju was forced to take up the mantle of chief far too early. She can sympathize. 

“Lady Riju will see you,” the returning guard tells them. She shows them through to the main reception hall. Now, finally, Zelda gets her first look at the Gerudo chief. 

She’s so young, is the first thought that crosses her mind. Younger still than Zelda herself. She was, by the barest of technicalities, an adult when the Calamity arose. Lady Riju is clearly still a child, even though she holds herself with measured poise. 

Besides her, an imposing vai narrows her eyes at the sight of Urbosa. More specifically, at the sight of Urbosa’s Daybreaker and Scimitar of the Seven strapped to her waist. Her hand rests on the hilt of her greatsword.

“Those weapons were not given to you,” she says, voice dark. “How did you come to possess them?”

“They were returned to me, as they belonged to me originally,” Urbosa says. She tilts her head in a nod at Lady Riju. “I am Lady Urbosa. Greetings to the new chief. May your guidance bring prosperity to the Gerudo.”

Lady Riju uncrosses her legs, eyes widening. She gives Urbosa a once-over, lingering on her torn Champion’s skirt and the branching lightning scars that spread across her left arm. 

“Lady Urbosa perished in the fight against the Calamity a hundred years ago,” she says, keeping her voice remarkably level, “yet you claim to be her. What proof do you have?”

“Allow me,” Urbosa says. She takes two steps forwards and points outside, at the desert visible behind the throne. Then she raises her hand and snaps her fingers.

Lightning crashes through the clear blue sky and strikes at the monsters visible in the far-off distance. Zelda winces, imagining what Link would have to say about that. If only Link were here…

Lady Riju and her guard look at the desert and then back at Urbosa with wide eyes. Urbosa steps back, a satisfied smile playing around her lips. “Would this serve as proof?”

“Lady Urbosa’s ability to summon lightning was legendary,” Lady Riju says. “Yes, I believe you. It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Lady Urbosa. We have noticed how Vah Naboris fired its cannons earlier today. But I must ask, how did you come to return to us?”

As an answer, Urbosa gestures for Zelda to step up. Zelda does so with reluctance. She’s never liked this part.

“I am Zelda, princess of Hyrule,” she introduces herself. “Greetings to chief Riju. May the relationship between our people remain fruitful.”

“Princess Zelda…Yes, this is my wish as well,” Lady Riju returns in kind. “You bring tidings of the defeat of the Calamity?”

“It is as you say. The Calamity has been defeated. We were fortunate enough to save the fallen champions.”

“Then Gerudo Town owes you a debt of gratitude for defeating an old evil and returning one of our own,” Lady Riju says with a smile. Then, more informal, she continues: “And Link? Coming to visit us soon, I hope?”

Zelda cannot hide her flinch. Lady Riju and her bodyguard notice. Their faces grow worried.

“The fight against the Calamity was long and hard. It is with deepest regret that I must inform you that the Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals The Darkness has fallen in battle.”

Lady Riju reels back, pressing a hand to her mouth in shock. “I… see,” she says, her voice very small. “This knowledge pains me deeply. Link was a true friend to the Gerudo, as well as a close personal friend of mine.” She stands, turning away briefly. When she turns back, her eyes glimmer. Zelda is harshly reminded of how young she is. “Lady Urbosa, Princess Zelda, please do not take it as an offense when I say that I prefer we continue this conversation tomorrow. You are of course welcome to spend the night at the palace. Buliara will show you to our guest quarters, should you be willing.”

“No offense is taken, and we are grateful for your hospitality,” Urbosa says. “I regret that we had to bring you this news.”

Lady Riju merely nods. Her bodyguard — Buliara — motions for them to follow and leads them through the palace to the immaculate guest rooms. She leaves Urbosa and Zelda to settle in, and returns minutes later with the traditional Gerudo outfit to replace Urbosa’s still-tattered clothes. 

“Link told me about her,” Urbosa muses, “but truly, she is very young. I wonder what happened to the previous chief. No child this young should have to take on the burden of leadership.”

She glances at Zelda, and Zelda shifts uncomfortably. The whole situation makes her feel off-kilter. Lady Riju’s grief surprised her, even though it shouldn’t have. She had called Link a close personal friend. Zelda wonders how many more people across Hyrule Link befriended. How many of them will never know what happened. 

She and Urbosa go out into the town again, where Urbosa is clearly trying her hardest to keep Zelda distracted. But her efforts, although admirable, fail to help Zelda. Link has been dead for less than half a day. It feels like much longer. It feels like she’s carried this grief with her for a lifetime. 

She had hoped that having Urbosa nearby would help her sleep, but it proves a fruitless effort. More than once during the night, the grief overwhelms her and she has to choke back her sobs so she doesn’t wake up Urbosa. Once, she steps out on the balcony and spots a small figure curled up against a massive sand seal in the pen below.

When morning comes, Urbosa takes one look at her and shakes her head.

“You are in no state to remain here. I will pass along your apologies to Lady Riju,” she says, voice brokering no argument. Zelda tries to find the energy to protest, but the very idea of discussing the state of Hyrule and political ramifications of the Calamity’s defeat makes her headache grow. She thinks she would get along well with Lady Riju, if given the chance. But not now.

“Thank you,” she tells Urbosa. “I’ll go…” 

But she has no idea where she’ll go. Not to the castle, not to Hateno. She thinks of Kakariko and Impa, but she also remembers Impa’s endless missives. 

“If I can make a suggestion?” Urbosa says gently. “Go to Zora’s Domain. Visit Mipha.”

Zelda doesn’t know what benefit that would have, but admittedly, the idea of seeing Mipha does make her feel a little bit better. It is still very early. Perhaps she can beat the crowds and find Mipha without being noticed. 

She says her goodbyes to Urbosa and wastes no time warping to the shrine at the heart of Zora’s Domain. As she had hoped, the domain is still silent. More silent than she expected, in fact. If her last visit to Zora’s Domain was any indication, King Dorephan would have thrown a festival upon Mipha’s return, but she sees no trace of party-goers.

The square that holds Mipha’s statue is almost completely empty, except for one lonely figure: Prince Sidon, Mipha’s brother. He does not look like someone overjoyed that his sister returned after being long thought dead. Mipha must have already told him about Link.

“Prince Sidon,” she greets him. He will be able to tell her where to find Mipha. “It has been a very long time.”

Sidon startles, so deep in thought that he didn’t even hear her emerge from the shrine. He clearly doesn’t recognize her at first, eyes gliding down from her face and narrowing when he spots the Sheikah Slate, then going wide in recognition.

“Princess Zelda,” he breathes. “It is true, then. The Calamity has finally been slain.”

He sounds wistful, not at all happy the way she expected him to be. “When we witnessed Ruta firing, we had hoped… But I imagine it was an idle hope.”

Zelda frowns. She tries to speak, but Sidon beats her to it.

“Ah, please, pay no attention to my musings, your Highness. Shall Link be rejoining us soon?”

Zelda’s breath catches. She already regrets coming here. How does he not know?

“Prince Sidon…” she drags up the veneer of royalty again. “The Chosen Hero has fallen in battle. Link… Link died.”

Sidon reels back as if struck. His eyes, so wide, remind Zelda of how Mipha looked when the news sank in.

“First my sister and now Link,” he says bitterly. “What won’t the Calamity take from us?”

His sister…? “Prince Sidon, your sister is alive!” Zelda says, panic rising in her gut. “She intended to come here. Has she not arrived?”

The river shouldn’t have been a problem for a strong swimmer like Mipha. Did she run into trouble? Has something happened to her? Fear grips her heart. Not Mipha too—!

“My sister is… But how? Where has she gone?” Sidon looks utterly perplexed, torn between joy that Mipha still lives and panic at her disappearance. “We must find her! Where did you say your goodbyes?”

“At Inogo Bridge,” Zelda tells him. She holds up the Sheikah Slate. “I will go back to the bridge and make my way up. Prince Sidon, if you could…”

“Yes, I will swim downriver and meet you halfway. My sister yet lives…” he says, awed. “Thank you, princess. We will find her.”

The Soh Kofi shrine isn’t right next to Inogo Bridge, and that makes her lose far more time than she is comfortable with. She has to clamber up the rocks, then run down the path and climb over the boulders blocking the road, all while her heart is going a mile a minute. If she loses Mipha too…

She runs up to the bridge, aiming for the path on the other side, but when she looks out over the water, there’s… Mipha.

Mipha, sitting on a rock jutting out of the river only a few meters away, absently turning her Lightscale Trident in her hands. Next to her are a couple of speared fish, still uneaten. Has she been here since yesterday?

“Mipha?” Zelda shouts across the water. Mipha looks around with wide eyes before she spots Zelda on the bridge. She smiles, embarrassed, and waves.

“I’ll be there in a moment!” she shouts, pointing at the bank on the other side of the bridge. She gathers her fish and her trident and dives into the water, swimming against the current with strong, sure strokes. Zelda heads to the other bank to meet her. 

“Is everything okay?” she asks when Mipha hoists herself onto the shore. She wipes the water off her face and drops her fish onto a nearby rocky outcropping, avoiding Zelda’s eyes all the while.

“Ah, I’m sorry. Have I worried you?” she asks softly. “I truly wished to go to Zora’s Domain, you know. But when I started swimming, I just… I haven’t seen my father in so long, or Sidon. What will they think of me?”

“I went to Zora’s Domain, but you weren’t there…” Now that Mipha is in front of her again, the frantic hammering of her heart is slowing down, to be replaced by deep relief. “Prince Sidon wasn’t aware of your return. He’s very worried.”

“Sidon is—?” Mipha holds a hand to her mouth. “Oh no, I must have scared him so… Perhaps you should take me to Zora’s Domain, Zelda. I have put it off long enough.”

“Your brother is already on his way here. We were to search the river from opposite sides.”

“Oh, alone?” Mipha makes a worried face. “I do hope he’s okay. The Octoroks can be quite hard to dodge, even for us Zora.”

Zelda thinks of Sidon, twice her size and at least five times the little child Mipha taught how to swim. “I am certain he will be okay. He should reach us in a few hours.”

Mipha stares up the river nervously, as if expecting to see Sidon appear already. “Was he very angry?”

“He was relieved to hear that you lived, and worried when we didn’t know where you were. But he is certainly not angry.” Zelda has only met the Zora prince a few times, but she thinks it would take a lot to make him angry. “… I told him. About Link.”

Mipha looks down. For a long time, neither of them say anything.

“They were friends, my brother and Link,” Mipha says finally. “He helped Link save Vah Ruta and free my spirit. I was happy that even if I couldn’t be there for them, they could at least rely on each other.”

And now Mipha is back, but Link is gone. The words go unspoken. Mipha sighs and picks up her catch again. 

“Have you eaten yet?”

Now that her mad search for Mipha is over, Zelda can feel her stomach rumbling. She hasn’t eaten at all since Urbosa made her eat a few bites of fruit yesterday evening. Mipha starts staking the fish and Zelda builds a fire the way she’s seen Link do: by striking some flint with one of the many weapons in the Sheikah Slate. Just a little bit later, they have fish roasting despite the damp river shore. 

Mipha keeps casting anxious glances up the river while they eat, and in fact, just when they have finished, the form of a large Zora comes jumping off the waterfall a little bit further up. Mipha watches with wide eyes and trembling hands as the Zora swims further down the river, looking around frantically.

“Prince Sidon!” Zelda shouts, standing up. She waves and Sidon spots her, already waving back before he spots Mipha next to her. For a moment, he stops swimming entirely, just floats in the water, eyes just as wide as Mipha’s. Then he cleaves through the water, reaching the shore within minutes and jumping out.

“Sister,” he breathes, looking down at Mipha with tears in his eyes. “I didn’t dare believe… I thought…”

“Sidon,” Mipha replies in turn, her voice wavering. “Oh, look at you, you have grown so big. I am sorry I have left you alone for so long.”

“I missed you,” Sidon chokes out, and then he is crying, dropping to his knees in front of Mipha. Even like this, he is still taller than her. Mipha wraps her arms around him and holds him close, pressing her face against his shoulder. 

“You were so small when I last saw you. I am so proud of you, Sidon, you have done so well,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry for worrying you.”

Sidon shakes his head. “You are alive,” he says with wonder. “This is more than we ever could have hoped for.”

Zelda takes a few steps back to give them some privacy. She is happy for them, she truly is. She just wishes…

Sidon and Mipha finally let go of each other. Mipha dabs at the tears on her face, smiling. 

“Have you eaten yet, Sidon? We shall catch some more fish.”

Sidon shakes his head. “No need.” He glances around, then asks, downcast: “It is true, then? Link truly perished in the fight with the Calamity?”

Mipha nods, unable to meet his eyes. Sidon swallows harshly.

“I wish he would have told me he intended to face the monster. I would have gladly fought by his side.”

His tone reminds Zelda of Lady Riju, who was so upset to hear about Link’s death as well. Link had so many friends across Hyrule. If only the Chosen Hero didn’t have to face the Calamity alone—

“Oh,” she breathes. Oh, they’ve been so stupid.

“Prince Sidon,” she asks urgently, interrupting Mipha and Sidon’s conversation. “Do you mean that?”

“Mean what?” Sidon asks. Mipha gives her a confused look.

“If I told you that tomorrow, you had to fight the Calamity, would you do it? I have no use for platitudes,” she continues when Sidon opens his mouth. “I need to know, if the Calamity were to reappear tomorrow, would you fight by Link’s side? ”

Mipha’s eyes widen, catching onto Zelda’s meaning. Sidon still looks confused, but he nods vigorously.

“Of course! Link is my dear friend. I would do anything to help him!”

“Zelda—” 

“It’s so obvious,” Zelda says, talking over Mipha. “All this time, I thought defeating the Calamity was the destiny Link and I shared. I thought that only the Divine Beasts would be able to come to our aid. But that was never true, was it? Link had so many people who liked him, who wanted to help him. So if time turns back, if we get him back—”

“We could save him,” Mipha says. She turns to Sidon with the same frantic energy Zelda feels coursing through her veins. “Sidon, when Link was small, he had friends in Zora’s Domain. Bazz and Gaddison and… and Rivan, I think. Are they still alive? Are they still living in the Domain?”

“Yes, I know them,” Sidon says. “Sister, what does this mean?” 

“I will explain soon,” Mipha says. “Zelda, what do we do?”

“Find out if people will help in Zora’s Domain,” Zelda says, mind going a mile a minute. She is almost certain of Zora and Gerudo’s support. “I will go to the other champions. Can you meet back with me, in three days? I will pick you up.”

“Yes.” Mipha reaches out and takes her hands. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“I think this is the very least we owe him.”

Zelda storms into the Gerudo meeting room with absolutely no regard for propriety. Urbosa is there, as well as Lady Riju and her bodyguard Buliara. All of them look up in alarm when she enters.

“Little bird, what’s wrong?” Urbosa asks. Zelda ignores her, marching straight up to Lady Riju.

“Would the Gerudo stand with us in the fight against the Calamity?” she asks urgently. Lady Riju sits up straighter, face alarmed.

“What do you mean? Has the Calamity returned?” She motions for Buliara. “Ready the troops, we will stand to defend Gerudo Town—”

“No, please.” Zelda shakes her head. “It hasn’t returned. I will explain in a moment, but please tell me. If Link were to fight Ganon again, if we could do this fight over, would the Gerudo fight by our side?”

“Little bird?” Urbosa asks. Zelda still doesn’t look at her, focused solely on the Gerudo chief. Lady Riju’s eyes are deep and determined.

“Of course I would fight by Link’s side. Are you telling me there is yet a chance?”

Zelda hesitates on what to say. Any promise of Link’s friends holds no real value right now: either time will reset and they won’t remember any of it, or time won’t and then… She doesn’t let herself think about that. But she has to know now. 

“All this time,” she says to Urbosa, “I thought we were alone. My father impressed upon me the importance of the powers of the Goddess. Just having all of you by my side was more than I deserved, I thought. I forgot… And I think Link did too.”

“Oh, little bird,” Urbosa says with a mix of pity and the simmering anger Zelda often notices when the subject of her father is brought up. “You were never alone. I’m sorry you were made to feel like that.” 

“You have my support, your Highness,” Lady Riju says. She leans forward, eyes very serious, “but only if you explain to me exactly what is going on.”

Explaining what has happened the past few months feels like a pointless endeavor — Hylia willing, the Gerudo will forget about it in just a couple of days. But Lady Riju insists on it, and Zelda does not want to ruin any diplomatic relationships before they have well and truly formed. By the time she leaves the meeting room, it is far too late to go anywhere else, so even though she is itching to move on, she spends another night in the guest quarters of the Gerudo palace. 

When morning comes, after a breakfast that doubles as yet another strategy meeting, she sets out again. 

The Goron who helped Link enter Vah Rudania is Daruk’s grandchild. She amuses herself with imagining a smaller version of Daruk and thinks, if this Goron is anything like his grandparent, then she will have no problem convincing him to help Link. 

She arrives at the shrine near Goron City wearing the Flamebreaker armor. If she’s going to be here for a while, she has no desire to keep applying fireproof elixirs every few hours. Still, the armor makes her slow, and it takes her a while to reach the actual city. 

Here, in Goron City, she finds the festival she didn’t see upon arriving in Zora’s Domain. The entire city is awash with the noise of celebrations, and at the center, Zelda quickly finds Daruk surrounded by a group of Gorons. He spots her before the other Gorons do and waves her over, looking almost relieved.

“Princess! What brings you here? Come, join us!” he shouts. The other Gorons quickly make room for her. They all look much the same to her. She wonders which one of them is the grandchild Daruk so looked forward to meeting.

Daruk keeps up his jovial smile, but his eyes are serious when she reaches him. “Is everything okay?” he asks. Zelda nods.

“I do believe so. Could I talk to you?”

“Of course.” Daruk turns to the gathered crowd: “Sorry pals, I’ll be right back!”

Zelda doesn’t actually need to talk to him in private, but Daruk is insistent. She follows him up the path back towards the shrine she just came from. 

“What’s up?” he asks when they are alone. Away from the crowds, he’s lost some of his jovial attitude from earlier. The lack doesn’t fit him.

“I think we can save Link,” she says in a rushed breath. “If he can fight Ganon with the support of the people across Hyrule, then he might survive.”

Daruk’s eyes widen. “And you need the support of the Gorons?” he asks. Zelda nods, happy she doesn’t have to go through a step-by-step explanation.

“Well, Gorons are no fighters. But you’d best go ask Chief Bludo about that, he’s the guy in charge here!” Daruk continues. Good to know. Zelda resolves to ask him as soon as she returns to the city. If Link was as frequent a guest here as everywhere else, this should prove no problem.

“And your grandchild?” she asks. “Isn’t he Link’s friend? Do you think he would be willing to help?”

She had not expected Daruk’s face to fall. “Ah…” Daruk says, folding his arms behind his head. “Haven’t seen much of the little guy, gotta admit. Saw him for a bit when I arrived, but then everyone started making rock roast and, well. Haven’t seen him since.”

He sounds so dejected when he says it. Zelda wishes she could do something to make him feel better.

“We could look for him?” she offers tentatively. Daruk makes a face.

“Ah, I don’t think he really wants to talk to me. ’s okay, he just needs some time to get used to it, I’m sure! Not every day the dead appear in front of you!”

Zelda squares her shoulders. No, she will not leave Daruk here, looking so dejected when he had been looking forward to this moment for so long. “We’ll ask around in the city if anyone has seen him,” she says, setting down the path to Goron City again. “He’ll be around here somewhere.”

When they enter the city again, Zelda looks out over the bridge, wondering how she’s going to find one specific Goron when she doesn’t even know what he looks like. It is then that she spots another face all the way on the other side, on a little walkway spanning the entrance of the city. He looks young, and is watching the gathered crowds from afar. Most tellingly, however, is the flash of champion blue he is wearing around his neck. A cape entirely reminiscent of Daruk’s sash.

“There,” she tells Daruk, gesturing at the Goron on the little walkway. Daruk brightens up immediately.

“Oh yep, that’s him! I hope he’ll want to talk to me now…” 

Zelda sets her jaw and drags him along with her. They make their way through the gathered crowds, all very happy to include them in the festivities again. Daruk manages to make their excuses and together they escape the center of the city.

The Goron looks like he wants to flee when he realizes they are climbing up the hill towards him. But at least he stands his ground. Daruk greets him with a wide smile.

“Hey there, Yunobo!” he booms. “This looks like a pretty great spot! Mind if we join ya?”

Yunobo — now Zelda finally remembers his name — looks torn. Daruk’s face falls.

“If you’d rather be alone for a bit, that’s fine too!” he says with forced cheer. Yunobo looks startled.

“Oh, no, that’s okay!” he says hastily. Unlike Daruk’s booming voice, this Goron is soft-spoken and subdued. It is so different from what she expected that, for a second, she thinks they have the wrong person.

“You can see Rudania really well from here,” Yunobo says, gesturing up at Death Mountain. Daruk follows the gesture up at Vah Rudania, still perched on the caldera of the volcano. 

“You’re absolutely right! Ah, I’ll take you up there one day, if you wanna. Rudania’ll like you!” 

“Do you really think so?” Yunobo asks, staring up at Daruk with awe. Daruk brightens considerably now that Yunobo is actually talking to him.

“Of course! You helped us out! And Link told me you protected the entire city from that pest that took over Rudania. That took grit, kid!”

“Aww, I don’t know.” Yunobo raises a hand self-consciously. “It was the Boss’ idea. The others would get hurt and I wouldn’t, so y’know. It made sense, right?”

“Lots of people who wouldn’t think of it like that,” Daruk says gently. Zelda nods. She doesn’t know how much sway her word holds, but she’ll need Yunobo if they want to save Link. He shares Daruk’s defensive power, and however much she hates giving Revali credit for anything, he was right that leaving Link without Daruk’s power did him no favors.

Seeing Zelda in the Flamebreaker armor seems to make Yunobo sad. He has been steadfastly avoiding looking at her since they got here. Now Daruk gestures at her with another bright smile.

“You haven’t met the princess yet, have you? Brought us back and everything!”

Zelda hopes he can’t make out her expression. She didn’t save everyone. And she left Link to fight the Calamity alone. Truthfully, without Link beating it down, she wouldn’t have been able to defeat it this time. She exhausted herself bringing the champions back. Even now, she can barely call upon a trickle of power. 

“Yunobo,” she says. Yunobo’s eyes snap to her; just as quickly, he looks away again. “I am Zelda. Link has told me about you.”

Daruk’s smile falters for a second at the sound of Link’s name. Yunobo still can’t meet her eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbles.

“We think there is still a way to save Link, but we need your support,” Zelda continues. “Would you be willing to help us?”

“You can do that? What do I need to do?” Yunobo asks with a cautious glance at Daruk. Daruk nods encouragingly.

“Link cannot face the Calamity alone. And I cannot be there to help him. He will need you to stand with him.”

Unlike Sidon, who was chomping at the bit to help Link, and Lady Riju, who was already drawing up battle strategies before Zelda reminded her that she wouldn’t remember anything of their conversation in a few days, Yunobo shrinks in on himself.

“Me? Fight the Calamity? Oh no, I’d just be in the way. I’m not brave like Link and…” He trails off, glancing at Daruk. “I’d just be a nuisance.”

Daruk shakes his head. “No such thing. He’d be happy for your help!”

Yunobo looks out across the city, eyes fixed on the distant shape of Vah Rudania. Why does he need so much time to think this over? It’s for Link, isn’t that reason enough?

But apparently it isn’t for Yunobo. He shudders and tears his eyes away from Rudania, looking down again. “I’m sorry, but… I’m sure Link didn’t tell you this, but last time, with Rudania, he had to tell me what to do the entire time. I just froze up. That’s no good for him in a battle, right? He can’t be wasting time on me. You can find much better people…”

He dares to look at Daruk again. “I’m sure you must be disappointed, but I’m not like you. I’m sorry.”

Zelda wants to protest; does Link really mean so little to him? Weren’t they friends? But Daruk bends down until he’s at eye-level with Yunobo.

“Not at all,” he says. “Easy to say yes when that bastard isn’t there anymore, huh? But you’re actually giving it some thought. That’s a lot smarter than I would’ve been!”

Yunobo laughs sadly. “You don’t need to lie, that’s okay. If you were hoping for a hero, well… That’s not me.”

“You could be!” Zelda tries again, but Daruk puts a hand on her shoulder and gently pulls her back. 

“I never hoped for that. I hoped that you’d be safe. We’ve got a ways to go still, but don’t you worry, we’ll get there!” He turns towards Vah Rudania himself. “You mind if we stay here for a little bit, Yunobo?”

Yunobo glances at him out of the corner of his eyes. “I’d… Can I just be alone for a little while?” 

Zelda expects Daruk to look crestfallen again, and she’s just about ready to force Yunobo to talk to him, but Daruk’s resulting expression, while not exactly happy, is not nearly as sad as she expected. By contrast, he looks satisfied.

“Of course. You ever want to talk to me, I’ll be around!” 

And he steers Zelda away, despite her protests and confusion. Once they’re out of earshot, she rounds on him.

“We need him!” she says. Daruk shakes his head, wistful.

“Would be nice, wouldn’t it? But he’s not wrong. Gorons aren’t warriors, I was just the odd one out. We’re mining folk. We were always safe here on the mountain, so why bother fighting? Leave that to the Hylians and the Gerudo. I’d rather he be happy, y’know? Besides,” Daruk glances back over his shoulder. “Kid’s got more guts than he realizes. He said no, didn’t he?”

Why would that somehow be an indication of any courage on Yunobo’s part? Maybe there are other Gorons who are more eager to defend their hometown. Or maybe Link will accomplish more. She’ll just have to let him know somehow, if he comes back.

When. When he comes back.

But unlike Yunobo, who at least gave it some thought, the other Gorons refuse outright. No matter which argument Zelda presents, they are perfectly content on their mountain and would much rather never face the Calamity at all. The monsters, they can deal with, they say. And the Guardians are no threat to them this high up. Fighting the Calamity just isn’t for them. Daruk takes it all in stride, but it leaves Zelda furious. She only has a few days, and she’s wasted an entire one on people who won’t even consider helping.

Without the Gorons, she now needs the support of the Rito more than ever. Zelda doesn’t know where Revali went off to, but she would wager anything that he took refuge in Vah Medoh again. That is where he hid the last time she and Link tried to find him.

Vah Medoh is still in the same place where Revali landed it before they battled the Calamity. After firing its cannon, it was unable to take off again and return to its resting spot above Rito Village. But when Zelda arrives there, there is no sign of life, no matter how long she stands there or how hard she shouts. It might mean that Revali went to Rito Village, but it could just as easily mean that he’s ignoring her presence.

… Or that he never made it back to Hebra at all.

Zelda refuses to acknowledge that possibility. She has no time to scour every meter between here and Mt. Daphnes for some wayward Rito.

She is forced to retreat when night falls and the Hebra plains become far too cold for the one spicy elixir she found left over in the Sheikah Slate. She does not wish to return to Gerudo Town with the taste of her failures heavy on her tongue, but all the nearby stables are hard to reach or just plain too cold. She finally trudges down in the rain towards Outskirt Stable and spends an uncomfortable night there, a fitting ending to an already terrible day.

At least she finds someone to sell her a few more spicy elixirs, something she’s grateful for when she arrives in Rito Village the next day. The place is icy cold; its open walkways and jutting landings offer little protection against the winds coming from the Hebra mountains. The Sheikah Slate has dropped her off in the middle of the village, where she is immediately spotted by a nearby Rito.

Zelda’s first thought is big. 

This has to be one of the biggest and broadest Rito she’s ever seen, so big that she doesn’t even spot the five fledglings surrounding him immediately. All of their eyes are on her, and Zelda does not think she’s misreading the disappointment she sees there.

But the massive Rito gives her a kind smile. 

“Ah, princess Zelda, it is an honor to meet you,” he says. “I am Kass, bard of the Rito. My teacher always spoke highly of you.”

“Your teacher?” Zelda asks, momentarily distracted from her purpose for coming here. Kass is another familiar name, one she definitely remembers Link mentioning at one point. 

“He was a Sheikah poet in service of the court, before…” Kass smiles sadly. Right. Zelda remembers him now. The court poet who always annoyed her with yet another song praising her goodness, or her beauty, or whatever superlative he’d found that day. Somehow, she doesn’t think Kass would appreciate her take on things.

She settles for saying, "He was a gifted poet," then promptly tries to steer the conversation to a different course. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Link has talked about you— Oh!” She suddenly remembers when she’s heard Link talk about him. “You gave Link the picture. The one with…”

“With the Champions of Old, yes,” Kass says. “My master was able to save it when the Calamity struck. I kept it until I could return it to Link. It is how I knew who you are.” 

The picture has been a symbol of both hope and despair in turns. If they succeed and they get Link back, she thinks, they will need a new one. 

“We heard the news about Link,” Kass continues, more subdued. “My condolences, your Highness. He was a welcome guest in the village and in my household.”

Zelda swallows, looking down. That at least confirms that Revali has been here. She is just about to ask Kass where he is when the purple fledgling girl interrupts.

“That’s not yours!” she says, wings flapping. Her expression is so cross that Zelda is momentarily reminded of Revali.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, feeling off-balance.

“The thingy!” her yellow sister joins in. “That’s not yours, it’s Link’s! You can’t just take it!” 

Zelda, baffled, looks from the little fledglings to the Sheikah Slate she’s still holding. “I— Link gave it to me to use.”

She does not mention that it was hers to begin with. By this point, Link can use it faster and more accurately than she ever could.

Clearly that explanation doesn’t suffice for the little girls. They start chirping, one after the other until their voices become a cacophony rising up through the village. Zelda doesn’t know what to do. She has absolutely no experience with children, especially children who are angry at her.

"Enough,” Kass snaps. The girls fall silent mutinously. “I am sorry, princess. They didn’t take the news well.”

“I understand,” Zelda says, trying very hard to ignore the children still glaring at her. “I was hoping to speak to Champion Revali. Is he in the village?”

Kass shakes his head. “I have only heard of his return. I have not yet had the honor to speak to him in person.”

He’s not missing out. “Then, could you tell me where to find Teba?”

Again, Kass shakes his head. “I haven’t seen him recently. Not since he brought the news of Link’s… Well. Perhaps you should ask Saki, his wife. They live in the second-to-last roost. Just follow the path, you can’t miss it.”

Zelda quickly offers her thanks and retreats, still feeling the glares of the little girls on her back. She shivers in the cold winds and searches through the Sheikah Slate for a spicy elixir, checking the roosts as she goes. She gains a few odd looks from the Rito she passes by, but clenches her teeth and perseveres. Finally, she reaches the second-to-last roost, high up in the village. Inside is a pink Rito, bent over a cooking pot and flanked by two other fledglings: one pink like she is, the other white. Zelda knocks on the wood of the roost for lack of better options.

“Excuse me?” she calls. The pink Rito looks up, eyes narrowing as she gives her a once-over.

“You must be the princess. Well, come in then.” She turns back to the children, who are looking at her with wide eyes. Zelda steps inside uncertainly. The roost isn’t very big and she feels out of place standing here. 

“I am Saki,” the Rito continues. At least she has the right person. “Can I help you?”

“I was hoping to speak to Teba. Or Champion Revali, should you know where to find him,” she says. Saki clicks her beak. 

“Yes, I assumed as much. What do you need them for?”

Zelda glances at the children, unsure whether she should be talking about Link in their presence. Saki notices. 

“Tulin, Molli,” she says gently. “Why don’t you run to Misa? We need some butter for dinner tonight.”

The pink girl crosses her wings. “No, I wanna know!” she protests. The other fledgling joins in.

“And I wanna go visit Master Revali!”

“Later,” Saki says in a tone that brokers no argument. “If you get back soon, maybe we’ll go visit tonight.”

The children grumble, but the promise of seeing Revali —implausibly— cheers them up. Saki watches until the children are out of sight before turning back to Zelda. Even though she is much shorter and slighter than Kass, Zelda feels uneasy caught in her gaze.

“Well?”

Zelda takes a deep breath. “I understand that you have already been informed that Link…”

“Died? Yes.” Saki’s gaze grows even more piercing. “If that is all you came to tell us, you might as well leave, princess. The children are already upset enough.”

“I think we can save him!” Zelda rushes to say. Are all Rito like this? She doesn’t remember the Rito — Revali aside — being this stand-offish. 

Saki bends low over her cooking pot again, stirring the contents. Zelda’s stomach rumbles. Whatever’s inside smells familiar. It takes her a second before she can place it: one of the many dishes Link used to cook during their evenings in Hateno. 

“Link stayed here often, when he was in the area,” Saki says, still stirring the food simmering over the fire. “My children adored him. If you say you can save him, I hope you are very sure about that. I will not give them false hope. Nor Master Revali,” she adds on. 

“I—” Zelda looks down. “I cannot be sure. But it is the only idea we have to save him, and I need the help of the Rito.”

Saki straightens up to her full height, not nearly as big as Kass but definitely bigger than Revali. “Yesterday, my partners finally managed to drag Master Revali out of Vah Medoh,” she says. “He wasn’t doing well.”

“I didn’t notice,” Zelda says, trying not to feel guilty about it. Revali had been as abrasive as ever.

“No, most Hylians wouldn’t have,” Saki says. That Link would have, goes unspoken. She ladles the stew she’s cooked into three bowls and covers them up before pushing them into Zelda’s hands. “Take this. You’ll find them at the Flight Range. I do hope you’ll refrain from hurting him further.”

Zelda has only been to the Flight Range once, back when she requested that Revali become Vah Medoh’s champion. Now she is here again, trudging through the snow until she reaches the range. There is a fire burning in the hut, and she sees figures moving inside. Teba is the one who spots her first, but he makes no move to help her as she climbs up the ladder with chilled fingers. 

Do all Rito just like seeing her struggle? He had been more than happy to help her three days ago. But that was before the Calamity’s defeat. Before Link’s death.

“Princess,” he says when she finally reaches the top of the ladder. At least he doesn’t stop her from entering the hut. The fire inside provides some comfort, but the Flight Range is constantly buffeted by wind. 

Here, finally, she finds Revali. He is seated in the far corner of the hut, next to a black Rito, and restringing his Great Eagle Bow. The paraglider is nowhere in sight. He doesn’t look hurt, but if Saki is to be believed, Zelda is in no position to judge that. He pointedly doesn’t acknowledge her presence until she is almost right in front of him.

“And the princess can’t leave well enough alone. Why am I not surprised?” he says with an aside glance to the black Rito. The Rito hums, but doesn’t react otherwise. Zelda grits her teeth. This is for Link’s sake.

“Saki has sent food,” she says. She brings out the Sheikah Slate and hands the food to Teba, who is the only one who makes an effort to take it from her. She tries to meet his eyes, but his gaze is inscrutable. Revali puts his bow down and accepts the covered bowl from Teba, but he does not start eating.

“I imagine you did not just come here to play messenger,” he says. Teba settles down on the other side of the black Rito, leaving Zelda as the only person standing. She should probably ask after Revali’s well-being, but she can vividly picture how that would go over.

“I come with a request,” she begins. “I would beg for the Rito’s aid.”

Teba makes a noise of acknowledgement. Revali lets out a mocking laugh.

“ Speak plainly, princess,” he says with a sneer. Zelda draws herself up. Fine. He wants her to speak plainly? She can do that.

“We can save Link, but I need your help.”

Revali freezes for a moment, wings tightening around his bowl. “What gave you the impression that I would be unwilling, your Highness? Had you heeded my request and taken me to the castle, I would have been able to accomplish much more.”

“You would have died.” Zelda is utterly out of patience. Revali makes a considering noise that has Teba flinching and the black Rito sternly shaking his head. Revali clicks his beak.

“Fine, then. What is it that you need?”

Instead of looking at him, Zelda turns to Teba and the other Rito. “I was told that Link visited Rito Village often, and that he has friends there. If he were to battle the Calamity again, would the Rito fight by his side?”

Teba inclines his head. “He need only ask. I have offered before.”

He does not look surprised at the suggestion of battling the Calamity again. Zelda imagines that Revali told them about the constant loops as well. For all the trouble the Rito put her through, this feels like an anticlimactic outcome.

“Would the other Rito in the village join as well?” she asks. One person is better than nothing, but they need all the numbers they can get.

“I would,” the other Rito says. He has a deep, calming voice. Zelda nods her thanks. At least here is someone who isn’t berating her.

“Rito is not a big village, princess. We don’t have many warriors left,” Teba says. It’s a fact that appears to make Revali sad. “But I have fought by Link’s side before. I would gladly do so again.”

It is not quite what she had hoped for, especially since Link cannot count on the support of the Gorons, but the greater numbers of the Gerudo and Zora should make up for it. 

“Thank you,” she tells Teba. Then, to Revali, she says: “The other champions and I will be gathering in Hateno Village tomorrow. I shall come collect you in the morning.”

“I am perfectly capable of flying to Hateno myself, princess,” Revali sniffs, but his words are greeted with disapproval from the other two Rito. 

“Master Revali, you are not,” Teba says. Revali looks like he wants to protest, but a quelling look from the black Rito has him falling mutinously silent. Zelda is grateful for it. He’s already flown off on her twice. She does not want to give him the chance to do it a third time.

“I am grateful for your support,” she says to Teba and the other Rito when Revali does not look inclined to say anything further. Truly, she is more grateful than she can possibly express. Back in the village she’d started to fear this was another wasted venture; it’s a surprise, but a pleasant one, that the situation could be salvaged. “I shall take my leave now. When the time for the battle comes, we will find a way to inform you.” 

“And you think this will save him?” Revali asks, just when Zelda turns to go down the ladder and back into the cutting winds of Hebra. Zelda forces herself to meet his eyes. They can agree on this, at least. They can agree on Link.

“I cannot contain Ganon for him during the fight,” she says. “But we can give him this. If everyone stands by him, and if we plan this right, then yes. I think this will save him.”

She spends the night in Gerudo Town again, a relief after the cold that is Rito Village. Then, in the morning, she and Urbosa pick up Daruk, Revali and finally Mipha before heading to Hateno Village. 

“I am glad,” Mipha confesses when they pick her up. “I am overjoyed to meet my father again, but he was unwilling to let me out of his sight. And I have been alone for so long… Having so many people who wish to talk to me gets a little…”

“Overwhelming,” Zelda finishes, nodding in sympathy. The first time she arrived in Kakariko Village, the sudden influx of noise and people had almost made her long for the castle again. 

“Were you able to find support?” she asks. 

“My father disagrees,” Mipha replies with a faint frown. “I think he still doesn’t quite believe that we will find ourselves back in the past tonight. He is convinced that I will return to him tomorrow morning.”

Zelda shakes her head. Of course King Dorephan would not be eager to let either of his children fight the Calamity again. That is a risk they will have to take. 

“But Sidon and I found Link’s old friends, and they were quite eager to help! He will have the Zora by his side, do rest assured,” Mipha finishes, smiling. It is a relief. Having King Dorephan’s support would have been nice, but it is not a necessity. Zora has always boasted many great warriors.

They arrive at the Hateno shrine and then leave the village altogether, because while Hateno has the most bearable climate for each of the champions, she still does not wish to see Link’s house and the freshly-dug grave in the backyard. So they make their way past a strange, unsettling statue and find a spot near a little pond, out of sight from any of the people passing through. If Zelda looks hard enough, she can barely see Link’s house from here. She doesn’t look.

“So four days ago, you doubted that time would turn back,” Revali says before Zelda’s even had the time to sit down. “Yet now you’re basing this entire plan on it? Has your Goddess actually spoken to you?”

Oh, but yesterday he was perfectly on board with it. Zelda grits her teeth. His concern is still a valid one, no matter the way he expresses it. “I do not know. But we have to plan anyway. Because the alternative is…”

The alternative is Link being lost to them forever. She does not know what she’ll do if she wakes up tomorrow and she isn’t in the castle. 

“Never thought I’d rather be dead!” Daruk says with a sideways smile. It’s enough to make Zelda giggle, and the rest of the champions follow suit, only Revali remaining sullenly silent.

“I have been thinking,” Mipha says once their laughter has died down. “The previous time I remember, Link returned my gift to me. My soul was complete, even if it could not find its way to my body. So it is my belief that we will all remember these days.”

“But Link will not,” Urbosa adds. Mipha shakes her head.

“No. I do not think so.”

That leaves them all silent for a moment. 

“Hey princess,” Daruk says, breaking the silence. Zelda is so grateful he’s here. “Next time, think you can do something about this?” He pats his own chest, where a wide slash has turned shiny black, remnants of Fireblight Ganon’s attacks. “Not that I mind too much, but it’s pretty brittle, could be annoying.”

“I will try,” Zelda says, although she privately thinks there’s very little she can do about it. The Divine Beasts indicated themselves when the champions were done healing. There might be no way to undo the remaining damage of the Blights.

“Well, at least one of us got out of it okay!” Daruk continues, nodding at Revali. Revali snorts, folding his wings.

“If you truly think so, you really have not been paying attention.”

Saki said something similar, back in Rito Village. Zelda does try, but no matter how hard she looks, Revali looks like he always has. As if Ganon’s Blight left no lasting effects on him at all. He scoffs when he sees them all looking.

“Well, rest assured, it will not slow me down.”

Zelda turns away from him and stares down at her hands, trying to call up the power of the Goddess. It is there, certainly, but much diminished. She won’t be able to heal the champions now. She might not even be able to do so if… when the cycle repeats again.

“… I don’t think I can do this again, next time,” she confesses. “I do not have the power for it. I need more time to recover.”

Revali makes a face, but Daruk doesn’t look bothered.

“Might be good, give the little guy some time to get caught up!” 

He has a point. They have no idea what exactly Link will remember. He will need time, and so will Zelda. They have plans to discuss and strategies to work out. Link has many friends across Hyrule. She just hopes that realization didn’t come too late.

“And how long do you intend to take?” Revali asks, scathing. She should have left him in Rito Village, he seemed much happier there.

“I do not know,” she says, letting the power around her hands dissipate. Revali opens his beak for what will undoubtedly be yet another barb at her very existence, but Mipha cuts him off. 

“That is okay.” she says with a soft smile. “You and Link should take as much time as you need. If you do not wake us up, I imagine we won’t even remember.” 

But this endlessly repeating cycle has left Zelda tired, now more than ever. She wants to bring an end to this as soon as she has the power to do so.

“I will try to contact Link when he wakes up,” she says. She hopes she’ll still have the power for this, at least. “But if I cannot, and if you see him first, let him know what happened, okay?”

Link is liable to try and repeat their last plan again. It is a plan that has gone through some drastic changes. Now she can only hope that they will be able to bring it to fruition. 

It is another beautiful day. Zelda looks at the bright morning sun and prays that tomorrow, it will be covered by Malice again.

Chapter Text

The sun rises above Rito Village, and Link does not rise with it.

He only blinks awake an hour later, when the sun on his face can no longer be ignored. For a long moment, he feels utterly disoriented. He is back in Rito Village, cold Hebra winds cutting through the inn, and Cecili puttering around making breakfast. 

He’s back here again, but he remembers… He remembers…

What does he remember? 

He sits up gingerly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Cecili looks up and gives him a cheerful wave, which he hesitantly returns. The cycle has repeated itself, that much is clear. But why? 

He tries to focus past the haze clouding his thoughts. He fought Ganon, yes. He felt— He felt the champions’ gifts disappear. Zelda must have succeeded. So then why?

Link?  

“Zelda?” he says. Cecili hums a question which Link ignores, focused entirely on the voice in his head. It is Zelda, undoubtedly. Zelda, who is now back in the castle, holding Ganon in check again. What happened?

Thank Hylia you’re— 

Her voice cuts out there. It sounds feeble, coming from very far away. Whenever she warned him about Ganon’s Blood Moons in the past, he could understand her perfectly well, even if he couldn’t reply. Fear grips his heart. Is she okay?  

“Zelda?” he asks again, and waits for several anxious seconds as no reply comes. Then, again, from what seems like the other side of Hyrule:

I used too much power… Talk to Mipha, or… will explain…

With that, her voice disappears, and even though Link waits for several more minutes, it doesn’t return. Gripped by sudden anxiety again, he shoves on his boots and grabs the Sheikah Slate before running up to the landing. But from what little he can see of the castle, it is still as he remembers it. Swathed in Malice, yes, but Ganon has not yet escaped Zelda’s grasp. She hasn’t used up so much power that she can’t do this anymore.

He sits down, legs hanging over the edge. His memories are still frustratingly out of reach. If Zelda succeeded in bringing back the champions, that means it wasn’t enough to break them out of these loops. Their gifts are back, settled under his breastbone, but even their usual warmth now leaves him cold. He’s sure that Zelda brought them back. Why wasn’t it enough? Just what else happened?

The details of this last loop are lost in a haze. He definitely fought Ganon. He thinks he defeated that first form, but by now he’s done it so often that all the fights blur together.

… But no, he remembers now. Being stranded in the castle without Zelda there. Having to chase after the Dark Beast, only to be confronted with—

Ah. 

So the Guardians got him after all.

Link rubs absently at his chest, but he doesn’t remember the Guardians that shot him down at Fort Hateno and he doesn’t truly remember these ones either. The knowledge only leaves him deeply disappointed. They were so close. They must have been.

And the presence of the Guardians raises more questions, more worries: Who fought the Calamity and its forces if he fell to it? What if it laid waste to Hyrule in his absence? Zelda was able to subdue it once before, but she must have been exhausted after bringing back the champions. If Link and the Divine Beasts weren’t enough to weaken it…after Link fell, there would have been nothing to keep Ganon’s attention on Hyrule Field. There would have been nothing to stop the Calamity from sending its corrupted Guardians out to every corner of Hyrule, to finish the destruction it started a century ago.

Has time turned back because there was nothing of Hyrule left to salvage? He wishes Zelda had told him more. Go to Mipha, she'd said. But why Mipha? Does she remember, somehow? Does anyone else?

He spends several long minutes sitting on the landing, staring unseeing out at the Hebra mountains in the distance. Bedoli appears on the landing at some point and greets him cheerfully, but he can’t bring himself to give her more than a cursory nod in return. She doesn’t take it as an offense. He knows she enjoys spending her time on the landing, and she knows he enjoys the silence here. 

He should probably hurry it up and make a decision already, especially if Zelda’s power has been reduced again. In the far distance, he can just make out a monster camp, awash with activity. He knows he cleared it out before fighting Ganon that first time, so many months ago. Have the monsters returned stronger now? Then…

Fear grips his heart. It is already much later than when he usually leaves Rito Village. And near Rito Stable, there’s a traveler who’s never learned to avoid Moblins. Never got the chance to. 

He flings himself off the landing, unfolding the paraglider mid-fall and peering across the lake for any sign of the traveler or the Moblins. He’s almost too late.

The Moblins are black when he finally spots them, and the traveler is down on the ground, already out cold. Link fires an arrow to draw the monsters’ attention away. He won’t be able to chase them off this time; they are too strong and too self-assured. Fortunately, the lure of new, more interesting prey is enough to draw them away from the unconscious man.

But Link has been fighting far more dangerous creatures than them. Killing them is a work of minutes. He regrets doing so, but he cannot leave them alive.

He rushes over to the man, who has regained consciousness, if only barely. Are you okay? he wants to ask, but the words stick in his throat. Clearly he’s not, and that’s Link’s fault, even though the traveler won’t know it. So instead he helps him up and hoists an arm over his shoulder. 

“Thought I was a goner there,” the man mumbles as Link helps him back to the stable. “And I just left the stable! They swore up and down that there wouldn’t be any monsters on this road, can you believe it?” 

Yes, yesterday they would have been entirely right. He makes a vague assenting noise and hopes it hides the guilt he feels. Fortunately, Rito Stable isn’t far off and Ariane rushes over when she spots them. Together, they get the man inside and onto one of the beds, where Ariane is quick to reassure him that they have it handled. 

But the image of the man prone on the ground leaves Link unsettled, out of sorts. His mind is still hazy, but that sight provoked… something. He shakes his head and wanders over to the bridge that leads back to Rito Village. He should follow Zelda’s advice, and talk to Mipha, but…

But he wants to talk to Revali.

HIs anger is no longer the white-hot thing it used to be. Revali kept his promise last time, only firing after Zelda had already brought him back. He thinks… He thinks he might be ready to have a conversation again. 

Still, the thought of galing to alert Revali of his presence still feels too large and too scary. Revali won’t remember anything that happened last time… Or what if he does? He circles back up to the top of Rito Village and finds the familiar handholds. The climb up to Vah Medoh is long and challenging, making it the perfect way to get his thoughts in order.

He wishes he could have seen the champions, last time. It has been far too long since he last saw them in the flesh, healthy, alive. And even before that, his memories are patchy and frustratingly devoid of context. He desperately wishes to make new ones. 

Zelda succeeded, and it’s only through Link’s failure that the champions are tethered to their Divine Beasts again. They’d have every right to be angry. But at least they can be revived. Even if this isn’t the way to break these endless loops, at least he’ll have them back.

The unease in his gut doesn’t quite fade, but at least the climb gives him time to think about what he wants to say to Revali, and what he wants to ask. He wishes Zelda had been able to tell him more. Were the champions okay? Did they suffer any lasting damage, the way Link did? And… And do they remember? 

He speeds up when he nears the top, a pre-emptive peace offering. He has been slower. For once, Revali would be entirely justified in calling him out on his dallying. He hoists himself over the top with a tentative smile, bracing for the familiar words.

Those words never come.

“You!” Revali shouts. “You— How dare you!”

He reaches for Link to— grab him? Punch him? Link dodges to the side on instinct, but Revali cannot touch him. For a moment, he looks devastated. Then anger overtakes his features again. Link gets up and holds up his hands in a placating gesture. 

“Do you have any idea what you did!?” Revali continues. Link steps away from the edge of the spire before Revali can make any other sudden movements. So Revali does remember. He doesn’t know what to say. Revali was awake, alive, free to go wherever he wanted. And now he can’t anymore. Link has taken that from him by failing to break the cycle. No wonder he’s angry.

“I’m sorry,” he says, repeating the words with his hands. Revali scoffs.

“Do you even know why?”

“… I died,” Link says, not meeting Revali’s eyes. Revali paces, wings fluttering.

“At least you remember that much. Or did the princess have to tell you?”

Link shrugs in a way that he hopes conveys ‘both’. He still doesn’t truly remember the moment of his death, but he can imagine it well enough. 

“Were you okay?” he asks, a far more pressing concern. 

Revali snorts bitterly. “Were we okay? Were we okay? Sure, we were alive, weren’t we?” He folds his wings. “For all the good that it did.”

“But Ganon was defeated?”

“Oh, sure. Her Highness made quick enough work of it.” Revali doesn’t meet his eyes, instead staring out at the castle in the far-off distance. Link can only imagine what devastation Zelda had to face in his absence. 

There was a time when he thought his death would finally break this endless cycle. He has been proven wrong. “I’m sorry,” he says again. What else can he say? They lived; he didn’t, and that’s why they’re all here again. 

“Don’t say you’re sorry!” Revali tears his eyes away from the castle, wingtips fluttering. “Just don’t die!”

Link shakes his head — he never intended to die. He was so close to meeting the champions again, being able to see them away from their Divine Beasts, to touch. His eyes linger on the blue of Revali’s wings, as always untouched by the glint of early-morning sun. 

Revali glances at him sidelong. “What do you even remember?” he asks, voice strangled and hesitant after his earlier outburst. Link grimaces and shakes his head again.

“Not much,” he admits. He barely even remembers meeting up with the champions and explaining the plan to them. He must have, for them to have been brought back successfully. He thinks, given time, he might remember more. Zelda’s few words already triggered memories of the Guardians and the endless waves of blue surrounding them. 

Revali looks… He can’t really figure out Revali’s expression. Disappointed, maybe? Or relieved. Before Link can ask anything about it, Revali scoffs, softly. Link doesn’t think it is aimed at him.

“Well, perhaps that is for the better. Has the princess informed you of the plan?”

Plan? Link mutely shakes his head. Zelda barely had the energy to talk to him at all, let alone explain everything that happened in the days he missed. For there must have been multiple days he missed. If Zelda was able to subdue the Calamity, then she and the champions must have lived out the rest of the loop before being forcefully returned here.

“I’ll do better this time,” he tells Revali. He can do better, he knows it. The Guardians were an unexpected complication. He will be ready for them next time. 

“I imagine you will, since you won’t be alone,” Revali says. He is still watching Link from the corner of his eyes, gauging his reaction. Link freezes, throat clogging up again. 

“What do you mean?” he forces out, before falling back on his hands: Why? Revali can’t mean to fire Medoh's cannon again before Zelda is able to bring him back, can he? The Divine Beasts do not have the energy to keep him alive after firing. Zelda would never have agreed to it. 

“Well, perhaps not this time,” Revali amends. “I’m sure you have noticed that the princess does not have her previous reserves of power. We will proceed as you are used to. Just defeat the Calamity like you’ve been doing.”

Link takes a couple deep breaths. Defeating the Calamity has become second nature by now, but leaving the champions to die once again? Last time, he had been convinced that he was done watching them die. That they could finally pick up their lives where they’d left off and regain the time stolen from them by Ganon and his Blights.

He ruined that for them. He doesn’t want to abandon them again. 

“And next time?” he forces himself to say. Revali takes a long time to reply, beak opening and closing several times before he speaks again.

“It has become abundantly clear that without the princess’ presence, the Calamity is a far more formidable enemy,” he begins. Link’s hackles rise. He can defeat Ganon, with or without Zelda and the champions’ help. Even if he has to do it a dozen times over. 

But Revali doesn’t give him time to speak. “And since we cannot come to your aid quite as fast as would be advisable,” here he pauses again, swallowing and staring off into the distance at Hyrule Castle, “we have found additional help. The people of Hyrule will fight with you.”

Link feels as if all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Revali gives him an incredulous look. “They have already agreed. Unless you are so eager to remain stuck in this cycle.”

“They’re not part of this,” Link manages to say, fighting against the rapidly-disappearing words. If he dies — if the champions die — time will turn back. But what if anyone else dies? What if he cannot save them? Fighting the Calamity is his burden. No one should be forced to shoulder it for him.

“They agreed,” Revali repeats. He makes a half-turn, gaze straying from the castle to the edge of Hebra and the Flight Range. “They are quite eager to help.”

Of course they would be. They have no idea what they’re getting themselves into. “They don’t remember,” Link retorts, and as he says it, his throat unthaws just a little bit. Yes, they don’t remember, and as long as Zelda is stuck in the castle and the champions are tied to their Divine Beasts, they will never know. 

Revali makes a strangled sound. He whirls on Link, wings fluttering in agitation. 

“Are you truly so eager to die?” 

Link shakes his head, teeth clenched. “I won’t stay dead,” he says, and hopes Revali understands the rest of it. He won’t stay dead, but everyone else just might.

But Revali splutters, green eyes manic when they meet Link’s. “We had to see you dead!” he shouts. Link sucks in a quick breath, taken aback. “I had to— I had to tell everyone you were gone! How do you think they reacted?” Revali gestures at the village below. “How do you think that felt?” 

If he’d spent any thought on it, Link would have assumed his body had been obliterated by the Guardians or the Dark Beast or both. He never considered that Zelda and the champions might have found him. 

I’m sorry, he gestures again, but that isn’t nearly enough to appease Revali. 

“That doesn’t mean anything if you go charging off alone again,” he says bitterly, tearing his eyes away from Link. Link wants to reach out to him, but refrains. It would be pointless. Another Revali once broke his promises and hastened his own death just to keep Link from dying. If it truly means that much to him… There has to be a way to defeat the Calamity without endangering anyone else, but Link is so tired of being angry.

“They all agreed?” he asks, a tentative peace offering. Revali scoffs, folding his wings, but at least he relaxes a little bit.

“Well, not the Gorons,” he says, unaware of the relief that brings Link, “but everyone else, yes. There are a lot of people who would be more than happy to get in a few hits on the Calamity, you know. It’s caused us all more than enough grief.”

That much Link can agree with. It is, sadly, no surprise that many of the races across Hyrule would be eager to take down the Calamity personally. 

“… I’ll think about it,” he says. It’s a lie; he very much doesn’t want to think about it. But at least it seems to appease Revali just a little bit. 

“Talk to the others,” he says. “They want to see you. Who knows, maybe they can actually get through that thick skull of yours.”

Link’s mouth pulls into a smile unwillingly. This, at least, feels like familiar ground. He pulls out the paraglider. It feels like an eternity since he’s held it, even though it can’t be more than a few days. Revali’s eyes widen at the sight of it, wingtips fluttering as if wanting to reach out.

“Make sure you keep that in good shape, got it?” he says, voice strangely weak. “It’s not easy to fix.”

Link shakes his head. He has no intention of letting his paraglider come to harm; it’s one of his most useful and treasured possessions. 

“I’ll visit the other champions. I’ll see you…” he trails off. Probably not until the next loop. Even though he knows there is no way to save the champions this time around, it still stings. Revali shakes himself out of the daze that the sight of the paraglider caused and scoffs. 

“Next time,” he says, unfolding his wings as Link unfolds the paraglider. He looks ready to fly off alongside Link. “And when you see the princess, tell her she can’t keep me out of the fight again.”

Link will never say so to Daruk or Yunobo’s face, especially now that the Gorons have proven themselves to be the only sensible people in Hyrule, but he never much liked Death Mountain. Too hot, even at night. If he doesn’t want to wear the heavy and clunky Flamebreaker armor, he has to waste hours and hours chasing after lizards and hoping he can brew them into a decent enough elixir to resist the heat. He still vividly remembers the first time he trekked up Death Mountain after waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection. How the temperature went from uncomfortably warm to burning hot in mere minutes. It’s a good thing that the Gorons are made of literal rock. Only a very few rare creatures can live comfortably in the volcanic heat. 

Usually, the opportunity to talk to Daruk in person made it worth it. But now he approaches Vah Rudania with no small amount of trepidation. He doesn’t think Daruk will be angry; he’s not that kind of person. But it’s still Link’s fault that Daruk is back here again, trapped like all the other champions.

Daruk is already waiting for him when he nears Vah Rudania.

“Good to see you still know your way here!” he says, his smile just as big as it always is. But the edges of it are brittle, and his voice is not quite as boisterous as usual. Link is once more glad that the Flamebreaker helm hides his nerves. Hello, he gestures, movement made clumsy by the heavy gauntlets. 

Daruk’s smile dims a little, eyes softening. He sits down so that they are at eye level. “How’re you feeling, buddy? What do you remember?”

Link tilts his hands from side to side. “Not everything. I died,” he says, “and I woke up again. I’m fine.” 

“And thank Hylia for that!” Daruk looks him up and down as if checking for injuries, though the Flamebreaker armor quite effectively hides every part of Link from sight. “We were pretty happy to feel you this morning,” he says, poking one see-through finger at Link’s chest. “We were worried…”

But he doesn’t finish that sentence. Link presses the palm of his own hand to his chest, where Daruk’s Protection and all the other gifts are settled once more. Of course, if they feel it when he uses their gifts… Was that how Revali knew he was coming?

“So, have you talked to the others yet?”

Link nods and says: “Revali.” Daruk chuckles a little. 

“Figured as much. He told you about the plan?”

Link grimaces, unseen. He’d rather hoped to avoid talking about the plan, or even thinking about it. He nods and Daruk slumps a little further. 

“You’ll have my support, of course,” he says. “The Gorons, though… Well, it’s not my place to force them. Don’t blame them for it, okay?" 

Link shakes his head vehemently. “It’s fine,” he says. It’s more than fine: it’s the one little bit of hope that’s kept him going after Revali explained this terrible idea to him. He can understand why it may seem like a good idea on the surface, but if anyone dies fighting the Calamity for him, they might never come back.

“We Gorons are no warriors,” Daruk continues, as if he still needs to justify himself to Link, “but you’ll have plenty of others on your side! And who knows, you should try talking to them. They know you a lot better than they know me or the little princess!”

Link shakes his head again. “They don’t need to!” he argues. Daruk’s expression, apologetic before, turns into a frown. As is so often the case, he seems to read Link with uncomfortable accuracy.

“What’s the problem there, buddy?”

Link wants to remain silent, but out of everyone, Daruk might be the only one who understands. Revali certainly didn’t, and Zelda won’t either. Urbosa has always been on Zelda’s side, and he fears that even Mipha won’t see where he’s coming from this time. 

“If they fight, they might die.”

Daruk nods, a sideways tilt of his head that doesn’t so much look like agreement as an apology.

“They might, yes. They’ll know that. Just like we did.”

Link makes a protesting noise: there’s no point in comparing him or Zelda or the champions, with all the special gifts allotted to them, to the rest of Hyrule. Sidon might be strong, but he cannot heal like Mipha does. Riju is clever and quick, but she cannot summon lightning with a snap of her fingers. Only Yunobo has inherited his predecessor’s gift, and Yunobo is one of the few people actually wise enough to stay out of this.

“And Link, I’ve seen you think. If anyone can come up with the best strategy, it’s you.”

Him? Link scoffs. Yes, somewhere within him, there is the knowledge to draw up strategies for entire armies. He can already see where he’d put the pieces in a fight against Ganon. But these aren’t pieces, they’re his friends and civilians whose worst fight should be an errant Bokoblin. 

“I’ll come back if I die. They won’t.”

Daruk looks deeply pained. “Link, do you really think we want to see you die again?”

Link shrugs. No, he knows they don’t. But isn’t it the far better alternative? 

Even if he can’t see Link’s face, Daruk seems to read his answer anyway. His frown only deepens. “Buddy, they want to help you. If you don’t want them fighting Ganon, at least let them help out with something else.”

That gives Link a moment’s pause. 

“Like what?” he asks, turning the idea over in his head. He doesn’t know what help they could possibly offer him specifically. If he had the Sheikah Slate on him, he might have requested weapons. But if he had the Sheikah Slate on him, he wouldn’t have fallen in battle in the first place.  

“Those Guardians, for one,” Daruk says. “They came from all over Hyrule, d’you know? Had to knock down a couple myself.” 

He hadn’t known that. He’d been busy enough with the Guardians that emerged from the pillars surrounding Hyrule Castle. He’d never given too much thought to those pillars whenever he was roaming Castle Town. Now he wishes he knew a way to destroy them before they released the Guardians inside. But he’s set off enough bombs in Castle Town and dodged enough Guardian attacks to know that even the most powerful of impacts have no effect on them. 

But perhaps Purah could figure something out…

He makes a noise of reluctant consideration. There might be some merit to the idea. The Guardians have been his downfall twice over now. If he doesn’t have to deal with them, that should be enough to take out the Calamity once and for all.

“I’ll think about it,” he tells Daruk. Daruk smiles, not quite as wide as usual but looking distinctly relieved.

“That’s all we’re asking,” he says. Link has no reply for that. It might be all that Daruk is asking, but he’s quite sure that the same can’t be said for the other champions.

He had known not to expect sympathy from Mipha this time around. After all, she was the one Zelda had pointed him towards in the first place — of course she would be in favor of Zelda’s plan. Still, the reality of it hurts. Mipha, like Daruk, has always been unfaltering in her support. But any argument he puts forth falls flat in the face of her conviction: she, even more than Revali and Daruk, is absolutely certain that this is the right way to proceed. 

“What about Sidon?” he tries desperately, when nothing else seems to sway her. “What if he dies?”

Mipha’s expression wavers, and Link feels a moment of triumph. But then she sets her jaw and looks up at him. 

“It was my brother’s idea, you know?” she says softly. “Or rather, he is the one who gave Zelda the idea. When he learned you had died…” She swallows. “He wished he could have fought alongside you.”

Sidon had told Link as much in the past, whenever his travels took him through Zora’s Domain. Link had always nodded and vowed never to call upon his aid — or anyone else’s. He feels vaguely betrayed that Sidon just had to express that same sentiment after he’d already died.

“Please do not think me callous, Link,” Mipha continues, pressing a hand to her stomach. She steps up to the edge of the cliff, where Zora’s Domain glitters below. “The thought of Sidon battling that monster terrifies me. I wished, when I saw him, that I could go back to protecting him from the Octoroks in Zora River. But he is no longer a child. He is older than I ever was. So this choice is his to make, and he has chosen to stand by your side.”

“I won’t really die,” Link tries, even though that logic has already been dismissed by every champion he’s met today. And indeed, Mipha’s eyes turn steely. 

“You did die. I begged you once to tell me if it became too much for you, do you remember that? But you never have. And if I am to be honest,” she lets out a soft, pained laugh, “I did not expect you to. But you fighting the Calamity over and over again terrifies me as much as the thought of my brother fighting does.

“I worry, every day, about the toll this is taking on you and Zelda. You may think you can keep doing this, Link, but it will destroy you. It will destroy us. Had it not been for Daruk and Revali, you would have already died many loops ago. You did die last time, no matter how much you wish to deny it. So please. Let us help you. Let us end this.”

Link feels bowled over, not just by her words but by the knowledge they contain. How does she know about Daruk and Revali firing their cannons to save him? Even if the sting of it still lingers, that was several loops ago, when they had attempted — and subsequently failed — to bring the champions back for the first time. 

How? he gestures, words momentarily out of reach again. Mipha pushes away from the edge of the cliff, steps small and measured even when they don’t truly touch the rock below her feet. She walks back to Vah Ruta and Link follows her, confusion lingering in his mind.

“I imagine Zelda did not have the opportunity to tell you this. When Purah discovered we were still alive — I remember it. You had returned my gift to me, so I remember it.”

Oh. Link makes a soft noise of comprehension. Yes, he supposes that makes sense, in some weird twisted way. He wishes she didn’t remember. Bad enough that all the champions remember what happened last time. He does not wish to burden any of them the way he and Zelda have been burdened. 

“So I have seen you moments from death once already. Now I have seen you fall to the Calamity because there was no one left to aid you. Link,” she turns around, see-through tears welling up in her eyes. “Please. We cannot do this anymore, and neither can you. You must let us ease your burden, before you crumble beneath the weight of it.”

It is an uneasy truce with which he leaves Lanayru. Had it not been for their desire to see him, and his own need to make sure they are okay, Link would have skipped visiting the champions altogether and gone straight to fighting the Calamity, the sooner to get this loop over with. As it is, there is only Urbosa left to visit. And there is absolutely no chance that she would disagree with Zelda’s plan. She has always acted for Zelda’s benefit, and she and the Gerudo have a personal bone to pick with Calamity Ganon. 

Fortunately, when he arrives at Vah Naboris and Urbosa expresses her relief at seeing him alive, she doesn’t bring it up immediately. Instead, much like Mipha, she stares out across the landscape. For once, it isn’t the castle she is looking at, but Gerudo Town.

“You were right about Lady Riju,” she says with a small smile. “Young though she is, she has all the makings of a capable leader. Even despite the circumstances, I was relieved to find Gerudo Town thriving.”

Gerudo Town, where most people only know Link as a Hylian vai, is one of the few places in Hyrule that offers true anonymity. And Riju is always pleasant company, even with the burdens of leadership she has to deal with. Link knows full well how much Urbosa’s praise would mean to her.

“Your death upset her greatly,” Urbosa continues, “as it did all of us, of course.”

Link doesn’t bother meeting her eyes, piercing as they probably are. Yes, it upset everyone. He supposes he should be fortunate that only the champions remember, and he doesn’t have to go through the same song and dance with every single person he knows.

“I have been informed that you have visited the other champions already,” Urbosa says, a teasing lilt to her voice. Link ducks his head. He’s quite sure that the champions have kept each other up-to-date on his progress all day long. The sun is already low in the sky over the Gerudo desert. Even without news, it wouldn’t have been hard for Urbosa to guess.

“I have also been informed that you have concerns,” Urbosa continues. Ah, there it is. Link works very hard on keeping his face neutral, the way he used to in the presence of the king or — back then, at least — Zelda and the other champions. Of course they would have told her that too. He’s almost impressed; he always assumed that the Divine Beasts could only pass on the most basic of messages.

“Be as that may,” Urbosa says as if he actually voiced any of his objections, “I do hope you understand the severity of the situation. Knowing now what you and Zelda have been going through, we cannot in good conscience let it go on any longer than it needs to.”

Link says nothing — what point is there? He knew from the start not to expect any sympathy from Urbosa. Perhaps Purah and Robbie can come up with some way to disable the ancient columns before the battle. That way, he can focus solely on the Calamity without interference from the Guardians.

Urbosa sighs, reading his expression correctly. “Last night, at midnight, I found myself back with Vah Naboris,” she says. Link struggles for a moment to keep up with the sudden shift in subject. “It was disorienting, admittedly. And my poor little bird had to do it so many times…”

Link nods with a grimace. While he gets to fall asleep by midnight and wake up a few hours later in the safety of the Swallow’s Roost, Zelda gets no such consideration. She has to wake up within minutes and wrestle the Calamity back under control. 

“Until that moment, we did not know if time would turn back or if you were lost to us forever. It was such a relief to open my eyes here and feel that my gift was back with you.” 

Yes, why did time turn back? Apparently the Goddess wasn’t satisfied with just having the champions back. If his death had been the price for rescuing the champions, he wouldn’t have minded, exactly, but he is still glad to be here again. He still hasn’t been able to meet them again properly, to reach out and hold them.

Zelda must have had that chance already. It’s hard not to feel jealous.

“So Link, I know you don’t agree. I’ve known you for a long time, so I think I can even guess your reasons.” Urbosa chuckles wryly. “But please, for your sake, and for Zelda’s, talk about it. Whatever your thoughts and objections are, share them with her. Whatever you may think, you are not alone in this.”

It feels strange, arriving at the castle without any of the things he’s become used to. He hasn’t been to Purah, doesn’t carry with him the upgraded Sheikah Slate and certainly didn’t spend days in the Shrine of Resurrection watching Purah and Robbie dismantle it. All he has are the requisite medicinal herbs for his poor horse and an extra set of clothing for Zelda.

He hasn’t bothered with the Guardians in Castle Town either. It makes him just the slightest bit uncomfortable, like he’s tempting fate by leaving them untouched, but Zelda will be there. She will prevent any of the Guardians from assisting Ganon. 

He does take out the Guardians on the ramparts while he makes his way to the top of the castle, just as stress relief. He should be scared of them, he thinks when he parries a turret’s attack, or at least more anxious than he actually is. But the Guardians are so predictable in small numbers, and Daruk’s and Mipha’s gifts are settled comfortably within his chest. 

He has barely entered the Sanctum when the Divine Beasts attack.

They attack with a fury hereto-unseen, cannons so strong that Link is pressed against the wall by the force of it. He didn’t think the cannons could muster up this much energy. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? The Divine Beasts always preserved part of their energy to keep their champions alive. He charges at the Calamity and carefully doesn’t think about what that will mean for the end of the battle.

Even with all their power, the Divine Beasts still aren’t enough to defeat the Calamity. It’s not even enough to force it into its Dark Beast form. Once again, Link mourns the plans they made a century ago. Fighting the Calamity has become routine. If he’d had to fight it head-on before Zelda had awakened her powers, he would have been dead.

So he fights, dodging the Calamity and calling upon the champions’ gifts whenever he cannot. Through it all, he sees the fear in their eyes, the panic when the Calamity gets a little too close to him. He wishes he remembered more about the circumstances of his death. He tries to muster the same fear they feel, but he just can’t. He’s fought the Calamity too many times already. It’s just the same as it always is. 

It is almost laughably easy to defeat its first form. Zelda is quick to send him the Bow of Light, and in her voice he hears that same fear, as well as her frustration: she cannot participate actively in this fight, not when her powers are so depleted, and she has to save every scrap for the end of this battle. Link doesn’t actually mind. The exertion clears some of the fog that’s been clouding his mind ever since he woke up in Rito Village.

His horse, of course, is the same one it’s always been. He now knows perfectly well how to steer it to avoid the brunt of the Dark Beast’s attacks. That doesn’t stop him from feeling guilty. It’s such a gentle creature, neither fast nor strong, and certainly not the kind of horse he would ever choose to ride into battle. Yet here it is, every time. It shows no fear when Link steers it close to the Beast. He wishes it would. He wishes it wouldn’t blindly follow him into battle.

But this time, he brings down the Dark Beast without any harm coming to his horse. And when he jumps off and sends it away, when he faces the Dark Beast head-on, he thinks of the champions. Of their fear when they can’t see the battle clearly.

So he uses Gale.

Revali spares him a glance, relief warring with anger aimed at the Beast. The winds keep Link steady as he draws the Bow of Light one last time and shoots. And then it’s just Zelda, ready to finish it off once again.

It has only just gone noon when Zelda touches down upon the plains of Hyrule Field once more, the light of the Goddess fading. This is the fastest they’ve ever defeated the Calamity. 

“Oh, Link!” Zelda launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Link catches her, staggering back a few steps at the sudden weight. “Thank Hylia, we were so worried!”

She buries her face in his shoulder, shaking. Link wraps his arms around her. What did she see, when she arrived on the battlefield last time? How close did Link come to letting Calamity Ganon run rampant on Hyrule?

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, Zelda shakes her head, tears seeping through Link’s champion’s tunic.

“No, I’m sorry! I should’ve been faster, I should’ve…” she swallows heavily, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Link. We didn’t know if you’d be back. I was so afraid…” 

She raises her head, catching Link’s eyes. Her face is wet with tears. The press of her arms is a heavy, comforting weight around his shoulders and Link has missed her. The last time they truly talked was in Hateno Village, already more than a week ago for Link and longer for her. Back when they still thought that this time, they’d got it right. That this time, they’d finally break this curse put upon them. 

“How do you feel?” Zelda asks, green eyes still wide with worry and unshed tears. “You remember, don’t you? We weren’t sure if you’d remember.”

“Not everything.” Link grimaces, loosening his grip. Zelda seems reluctant to do the same. “Flashes. The Guardians.”

They both turn to look at the pillars surrounding Hyrule Castle. Inactive, but more ominous now that they know what they truly contain. Zelda lifts one hand to rub at her face.

“Purah and I spent so much time looking for those Guardians,” she says with a pained laugh. “Before, I mean. We knew there had to be more, that the ancient Sheikah had preserved them somewhere. But we had no idea… And when those things appeared, it was already too late.”

She shakes her head, running a hand through her hair and snagging on the tangles there. “Link, did you talk to the champions?”

Link nods, chest already growing tight at the inevitable follow-up questions. Or, no…

“Did they—“ Zelda begins to ask, but Link cuts her off by raising one hand and pressing the other to his chest. The tightness there increases, turning into a far-too-familiar burn that gives way, abruptly, to emptiness. It’s too early. It’s too early.

Zelda lets go as Link scrambles for the Sheikah Slate, watching with wide, worried eyes. “Link, what’s wrong?”

Link opens the map, confirming what he already knew. Before his eyes, the icons of the Divine Beasts blink out of existence, within moments of each other. They’re gone. Unlike all those previous loops, where the disappearance of their gifts only heralded the countdown until their true deaths, they are already gone now. They used all their energy to speed up a battle Link had already proven he could win.

Zelda sucks in a trembling breath. “Already?” she asks, voice subdued.

Link nods, abruptly feeling the embers of anger flare up. “Did you plan this?” he asks. He needs to know. The loss doesn’t feel as permanent as it once did, but it is still a pointless one.

Zelda shakes her head. “We didn’t. Not this, specifically, but I imagine they agreed upon it between themselves.” She meets his eyes. “If I’d had the power to spare, I would have helped you earlier myself. We did not wish to see you suffer again. You understand, right?”

Oh, he understands, sure. The champions’ gifts would have disappeared in a few hours anyway; their Divine Beasts would have run out of power in a few days like they always did. But that doesn’t make the loss feel any less like a waste.

Ever since Zelda became aware of the cycle she and Link were trapped in, the days after Ganon’s defeat were always the ones she most looked forward to. Those five days where she could be free of the castle and its all-consuming Malice, where she could be with Link and travel across Hyrule, no matter how desperate their search for a solution became. But waking up in the castle again two days ago? Zelda hadn’t realized how afraid she was, and how desperate she was for time to turn back on itself, until she felt that oppressive power fighting her again. She was back in the castle, which meant Link was hale and healthy and alive, safely ensconced within Rito Village. 

In her relief, she almost forgot the danger the Calamity itself presented. When she opened her eyes in the castle and breathed in the malice as if it were early-spring air, she almost lost control of the Calamity itself. It took her several long minutes to bring it back to heel. It reminded her of those first blood moons after Link woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection, when the Calamity was more desperate than ever to stop him before he regained his old skills, and Zelda was too worn down after a century’s struggle to do more than warn him.

She had exhausted her power bringing back the champions and defeating the Calamity, and she had seen every hour of the nights that followed, unable to sleep with Link’s fate still uncertain. It was only by grace of her long experience that she managed to bring the Calamity back under her control at all. 

She had ached to talk to Link after that, but hadn’t dared to wake him up. Instead, it was the champions she reached out to. There was no conversation to be had — the strange in-between form that the champions were confined to didn’t leave them with any way to talk to her. But it had been enough to confirm that they too were back, and relieved to be back. They still remembered. Would Link?

What brief words she could exchange with him when he woke up were only enough to confirm that he was safe and sound, if confused. But that was enough. Having him back was enough.

So when Link attacks the Calamity and the Divine Beasts do too, with much more fury than she’s come to expect, she isn’t surprised. If she had the strength, she would have fought the Calamity herself. But she can only watch anxiously as Link charges at the monster, hoping, praying that nothing goes wrong this time around. That the Calamity doesn’t catch him unawares like it did before.

It doesn’t. Link defeats it with an ease borne from repeated battles, but Zelda still feels an overwhelming rush of relief when she finally gets to seal it away again, where it can do no harm to Link or anyone else. It’s only when she gets to touch Link, hug him and check him for injuries, that she can finally let herself believe that he’s here again, alive. The Goddess, terrible though she can be, has not been so cruel as to take Link from her. 

Losing the champions — again, already — feels like a small price compared to that. She understands, she truly does. She would have done the same if she could have. 

“You talked to them?” she asks Link again after a few hesitant minutes, when their loss has truly set in. Link turns away from her to tend to his horse, jaw clenched. He only gives her a curt nod that she barely catches. It’s not the reaction she had hoped for.

“Link—“ she starts to say, but Link cuts her off.

“Where do we go?” 

Where…? When she had realized just how dangerously low her power was running, she hadn’t made any plans for these five days. It would be a wasted loop, only good because it would return Link to them. What was the point of upgrading the Sheikah Slate when they didn’t have anything to do or anywhere to be?

Link turns back and wordlessly hands her the Hylian traveling clothes he’s been keeping in the Sheikah Slate for her. Zelda accepts them, trying to catch his eyes when she does so, but Link has already turned away again, fiddling with the Sheikah Slate to get out his Master Cycle. He keeps his back staunchly turned while she changes clothes. 

She tries to get his attention again once she’s switched out of her tattered dress.  “Link, about the plan,” she begins. “The champions told you, right?”

Link clenches his hand around the reins of his horse, head bowed. “Talk later,” he says. He leads the horse back towards her, handing her the reins without looking up. “You should rest.”

“I— Yes, of course.” She tries to meet his eyes, but he stubbornly refuses to look at her. “But Link—“

“Later, please.”

Zelda doesn’t push. She gingerly mounts the horse as Link starts up his Master Cycle Zero, the noise of the engine immediately drowning out any chance of conversation. It doesn’t take her long to recognize the route Link is taking: towards Wetlands Stable. Despite everything, it brings a smile to her face. She still remembers that first interminable trek. The first time she’d been free of Ganon, when she had been left floundering with no idea how to move on. 

Now, at least, she might not be alone. Provided that Link is willing to follow their plan, of course. She glances down at him from the back of the horse. He’s looking straight ahead, eyes firmly focused on the road. 

With a healthy horse and the Master Cycle, the trip to Wetlands Stable doesn’t actually take them long. It is mid-afternoon when they arrive. Link hands his horse into the stablehand’s custody and goes to order food before Zelda can bring the subject up again. She finds that she actually is hungry enough to forgo conversation just a little bit longer. 

But even Link can’t keep their meal lasting forever. Once he’s scraped his bowl clean and Zelda has put her spoon down, he finally meets her eyes again. She does not like the resignation she sees there. 

“Can we talk outside?” he asks. Zelda nods. She has become more used to the noise of travelers all around her, but this still isn’t a conversation she wishes to have in the middle of a crowded inn. Everyone has seen their battle against the Calamity and is excited to talk about it.

Link stacks their bowls and hands them to the stable owner, leaving their table to some other group eager to share the latest gossip. Zelda follows him outside and across the road, towards the shrine near Wetlands Stable. As always, it is a cloudless day and the sun shines down warmly when she sits down on the dais of the shrine, waiting for Link to join her. Link does so eventually, leaning back to stare up at the sky.

“They told me,” he says. Zelda makes an encouraging noise. “I don’t remember all of it, but… Some of it. The Guardians.”

Zelda shudders, remembering the battlefield she arrived on. The swarming Guardians and Link broken on the ground. Link doesn’t look nearly as bothered as she feels.

“We weren’t sure what you would remember. Mipha thought you might not remember anything, but… I suppose the Goddess thought it important that you did,” she says. If Link had died in those early loops, back when they were still unable to tell each other about their shared plight, it would have been much harder for him to change anything without his memories of the previous attempts. Maybe that is why he was allowed to keep his memories when Mipha wasn’t. Or maybe there’s some other reason that the Goddess, inscrutable and mysterious as she is, won’t see fit to share with Zelda either.

“I know what happened. I’ll be more careful,” Link says, shaking his head. “It’s fine. It’ll work next time.”

Zelda frowns. “Link, it’s dangerous. Let them help you, it will be much safer that way!”

But if that argument could convince him, the champions would have already managed it. Link shakes his head once more, more vehemently this time. “I’ll be fine!” he insists.

Zelda swallows and tries desperately to suppress the image that rises in her mind’s eye: the Guardians. The Calamity. And Link, dead on the ground. “You died!”

“ They’ll die!” Link retorts, voice raised. He looks at Zelda, eyes wide and manic. “If they die, they won’t come back! I will!”

“We can’t see that happen again!”

Link makes a frustrated noise, hands clenched around the hem of his champion’s tunic. He swallows heavily, mouth opening around words he clearly can’t quite form. “It doesn’t matter,” he says after several tries. “I’m supposed to fight the Calamity. No one else.”

It is what she thought herself for so long. “When I was a child,” she says softly, “my father impressed upon me the importance of the Goddess’ powers. How I was destined to face the onslaught of the Calamity, the Chosen Hero at my side.”

Link makes a face. Zelda can’t help but grimace as well. 

“I thought… Having the champions and the Divine Beasts by our side was already more than we could have hoped for. But that’s not true. Don’t you see?” She is desperate to make him understand. “We were never alone. There are so many people willing to fight by your side!”

“It’s not their fight.”

His words give Zelda pause. She would have agreed, until very recently. The powers of the Goddess were her birthright and burden. The moment Link drew the Sword That Seals The Darkness, he had been named the Hero of Legend, whether he wished to be or not. 

“We never had a choice.” 

Link looks at her, eyebrows furrowed. Zelda continues, voice slowly gaining strength as her conviction grows. “We never had a choice, did we? Who we wanted to be, what we wanted to do… It never mattered. All that mattered was defeating the Calamity. But Link,” she meets his eyes, trying to convey her meaning, “they do get to choose.”

Link stares at her, uncomprehending — or not wanting to understand. She takes a breath before continuing: “If they want to fight the Calamity, if they want to stand with us, then that’s their choice to make, so… So we shouldn’t take that choice from them. Let them make their own decisions.”

“Because we didn’t get to,” Link mutters. He’s tugging at the hem of his champion’s tunic as if to see what it would take to tear it apart.

“You see?” Zelda asks carefully, after several long moments during which Link stares down at his lap unblinkingly. Link nods with clear reluctance, but that doesn’t measure up to the relief flooding through her body. She doesn’t know if she could have handled it if Link took on the Calamity by himself again. Or if the champions could have. If Revali was any indication, they would have stormed the battlefield upon being brought back and probably died for real this time. 

“What should we do next?” she asks. Link lifts his head, eyebrows raised in silent question. 

“What’s the plan?” Zelda elaborates with a slight smile. “I don’t know them. I have no idea what they can do. But you do. So what’s the plan?”

Link doesn’t reply right away, nor did she expect him to. She has only met the people of Hyrule briefly. But Link has been traveling the land for over a year. He knows what his friends are like and what they’re capable of. Zelda may excel in figuring out the secrets behind the Sheikah technology, but she has no real head for strategy. Link, however, does. And out of all the things he’s forgotten, this isn’t one of them.

He stares ahead, eyes distant and deep in thought. She can just about see the ideas flash through his head. 

“What about the champions?” he asks at long last. “They didn’t say… Were they okay?”

Zelda sighs. “The Divine Beasts healed what they could, but all of them were left with scars. I do not know if it would be wise for them to join…” Even if they most certainly would want to.

“Revali said that you couldn’t stop him from joining,” Link says with a wry smile. Zelda scoffs. 

“Not like I could stop him last time,” she says, annoyed. Leave it to Revali to start making demands before they even have any plans. “Link?”

Because Link is staring ahead, looking distinctly bowled over. He shakes his head when she calls his name and gets up, hands finally letting go of his tunic. 

“Kakariko Village,” he tells Zelda. “That’s where we should go. We need Impa’s plans.”

Zelda would have been perfectly fine spending the night at Wetlands Stable, but the conversation has lit a new fire within Link. He is eager — insistent even — to get on the road again and head straight for Kakariko Village. He must be tired after fighting the Calamity, but that doesn’t deter him. It is nowhere near sunset yet and Link is convinced that they can reach Kakariko Village before night truly falls.

Traveling by horse after so many loops of using the Sheikah Slate feels almost indulgent. They have places to be, but for once the urgency is lost. The four days afforded to them should be more than sufficient for Link to draw up whatever plans he needs. 

They make their way to Kakariko Village at a steady canter, crossing over Sahasra Slope and into the canyons surrounding the village just when the sun fully disappears beneath the horizon. In the fading light, Zelda can see the flickering torches of the Sheikah guarding the canyon leading to the village. They have been spotted. Zelda shares a look with Link when they hear noise coming from the village and smiles. It had felt daunting, the first few times she’d entered Kakariko Village. Now, with Link safely by her side again and the prospect of finally leaving the loops behind them, she looks forward to getting to know the people here properly.

They round the bend to the Sheikah clan’s cheers. Link stiffens up, but relaxes again after just a moment, even when the villagers swarm them. Zelda tries to make out the questions shouted their way, but she is still grateful when Impa’s granddaughter makes their way over and comes to a halt at Link’s side.

“You really did it!” she shouts. “I knew you would!”

Paya, her name was. She truly does look incredibly like Impa. 

“Thank you,” Zelda says. “You must be Impa’s granddaughter. It would please me greatly if you could bring us to see her.”

“Yes, of course! I’m— I’m Paya, Your Highness,” Paya says, face going suspiciously red. Zelda manages to turn her giggle into a benevolent smile. “We are so grateful for everything you have done for us! Grandmother is eager to see you, will you join us?”

“Of course. And I am sure you have been told before, but you truly resemble her a great deal.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Paya says, face still suspiciously red. She brings them to Impa’s house, where Link exchanges a few quick words with the guard on duty. Zelda tries to remember his name, but it’s been too long ago. She will learn.

Even though this isn’t the first time she’s seen Impa in recent memory, the sight of her still takes Zelda’s breath away. Impa is her most acute reminder of how much time has passed, more than Purah, who was always weird enough to turn herself into a child, and Robbie, who, despite his age, has maintained most of his former energy.

“Impa,” she says, and she still can’t help choking up. “I am so glad to see you.”

“Princess, it is such a great pleasure to finally meet face-to-face again,” Lady Impa says. Zelda tries to help her up, but Impa waves her away. Instead, she leads them again to the low table where they have spent many hours already. “I imagine you are surprised to see me this way. That one —“ she gestures at Link, “— didn’t even remember anything. Good thing we Sheikah can hang around so long, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes.” Zelda exchanges a look with Link, who nods in support. “Impa, we came for advice. The Calamity hasn’t truly been defeated yet. And we will need your support to bring it down for good.”

Despite the speed with which they traveled to Kakariko Village, there isn’t actually much for Zelda to do. Her biggest task for the four days remaining to them is… sleeping. Sleeping and eating, so she can regain her strength to bring back the champions and finally seal the Calamity for good. 

Link throws himself into planning with a fervor she’s only very rarely seen of him before. It might take weeks, perhaps even months before he’s gained enough support across Hyrule to fight the Calamity. It means that Zelda might be stuck in the castle for much longer than she’s become used to. She is already terribly bored with lounging in the Shuteye Inn all day and only seeing Link and Impa for meals, but she will need the energy. She just wishes Link would at least leave her the Sheikah Slate, but he claims to need it to work out the best strategy.

As it is, the only thing that alleviates her boredom are quick conversations with the other people in the inn, all of whom look up to her as Princess Zelda, the rightful ruler of Hyrule returned. The prospect isn’t quite as daunting as it once was, but she would appreciate not discussing politics in these few free days she has.

Link’s explanations in the evening are much more interesting. Zelda, of course, will need to bring back the champions, with Purah and Robbie by her side. 

“And bring them to the castle,” Link says. Panic wells up in Zelda’s gut.

“You really want them to fight?”

“Do you think we can stop them?” Link asks with a wry smile, echoing her own fears. She grimaces. Yes, she’s already seen the alternative. The champions will fight anyway. If Zelda brings them, at least they won’t have exhausted themselves before even reaching the battlefield. 

Urbosa will be first, they’ve decided. Her lightning, while powerful, isn’t as crucial to Link’s survival as the other gifts, and she can command it at will during the battle itself. Then Revali, whose gusts of wind won’t see much use within the walls of the castle. Daruk will come third, and finally Mipha as Link’s last line of defense. 

“You have to bring supplies too,” Link says, fiddling with the Sheikah Slate. “Weapons, medicine.”

Yes, Zelda is already intimately aware of what happens when Link doesn’t have the Sheikah Slate. She’s willing to do whatever it takes to prevent a repeat of that disaster.

Her next few days pass similarly, with Link spending all his time talking to Impa, and sometimes Paya and Impa’s Sheikah guards as well. Zelda, instead, sleeps in and goes on walks that never stray far beyond the boundaries of the village. She understands the necessity of it, but it chafes at her. Is this how Link felt all the time?

On their last day, she wakes up to rain. This comes as a surprise to her — the early days in Kakariko Village were always characterized by bright weather, as if even the land itself were celebrating Ganon’s demise. She has never spent this particular day here. Maybe it always would have rained. There is no one to ask who would know the answer.

Usually, Link is already long gone by the time she wakes up, but today she finds him out on the balcony, watching the rain as it falls in slate curtains. He glances at her when she gets out of bed, but doesn’t come inside. Zelda wraps a cloak around her shoulders and joins him underneath the awning.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, tilting her head towards the sky. Some of the raindrops find her face, a refreshing wake-up call.

Link hums in reply and makes a quick, one-handed gesture: alright. His other hand taps out a disjointed rhythm on the balustrade. The gray skies make it hard to tell time, but Zelda’s stomach tells her it must already be close to noon. Just a few more hours until she will be back in the castle. 

“After this,” Link begins. Zelda makes a questioning noise. “What will you do?”

Zelda sighs, stepping forward into the rain. She wipes the raindrops away and takes hold of the guard rail. What will she do? The first times she traveled through Kakariko Village, Hyrule had felt like an entirely unfamiliar country to her. How was she supposed to ascend a throne that didn’t even exist anymore? 

The country and its people no longer feel unfamiliar. It won’t ever be the Hyrule she grew up in, but she could feel at home here.

“I wasn’t sure, the first times we did this,” she says, not quite looking at Link. “I didn’t know anyone except for you and Impa, and I had no idea what Hyrule needed. But now… If the people still wish for a queen, then yes, I would not be opposed.” Her smile feels tremulous, but it is a smile nonetheless. The prospect still frightens her, but she has ideas now. She has learned so much and she has so many plans. “I have received much more support than I ever could have hoped for. I talked to Lady Riju. She has many plans for a world without the Calamity, several of which concur with my own.”

Lady Riju was a font of inspiration, despite her young age — or perhaps because of it. Part of it, no doubt, was her desire to make her mark as chief of the Gerudo in the presence of Urbosa. But many of her plans have great merit. Zelda finds herself looking forward to working with her in restoring the kingdom. Well.

“I don’t imagine that my kingdom would be very big,” she says with a quick laugh. “How many Hylian settlements are left? Two?”

“And the stables,” Link says. 

“Right.” The state of Hyrule pains her, but there is nothing to be done about it. She wishes for nothing more than to move forward. “I am hoping… Perhaps Castle Town can be rebuilt. Some of the rubble of the castle can surely be repurposed.”

Link looks at her, surprise clear in his eyes. She sighs. “I imagine my father would wish to see the castle itself rebuilt, but what purpose would it serve? There is no royal guard or retinue. What use is a castle for just a few people?”

Link’s face shutters at her words. “I can’t stay,” he says and immediately corrects himself: “I won’t stay.”

Zelda… isn’t surprised, exactly. She always knew how much court life chafed at Link and how dearly he longs for the time he spent on the road. He too deserves the choice that was taken from them so long ago. But she won’t deny that it hurts. She sighs and moves past him, sitting down on her bed, heedless of her wet clothes. Link follows behind her, closing the balcony doors again. 

“I did assume as much,” Zelda confesses. Link sits down on his own bed, facing her, their legs almost touching. “I had hoped… But I will not keep you tied to the castle. I merely ask that you visit when you are near. And,” she chuckles, “that you lend me the Sheikah Slate for a little while. I hope to replicate it, or at least part of its functionality.”

Link nods quickly, relief plain on his face. That stings a little: did he really think she would force him to stay? 

“I could visit people. Talk… Well.” He laughs. “Or check what they need. I know them.”

He looks unsure at the suggestion, but it lights a fire in Zelda’s mind. “Yes, like an envoy! I have some idea of what Hyrule needs, but there are places I have so little knowledge of. I shall visit them, of course, but you know them far better than I do. They will talk to you .”

It is such a surprisingly simple solution: Link gets to do what he loves most, and she gets to keep him by her side. She has seen first-hand just how hard Link’s loss impacted the people of Hyrule; he will be able to reach those people she cannot. 

Link smiles and holds out his hands. Zelda takes them, squeezing as the patter of the rain continues on the roof and against the window. A few more hours. A few more weeks. And then, hopefully, the rest of their lives.

Chapter Text

Link wakes up in the Swallow’s Roost with barely-restrained energy thrumming through his body. It is early, much earlier than usual. The sun has only just begun to rise when Link jumps out of bed, ties his hair back and tugs on his boots. Cecili, sleepily lounging at the front desk, offers him a yawned Good morning when Link adjusts his Snowquill headdress. Link nods in greeting. It’s not her fault. The beds in the Swallow’s Roost are among the most comfortable in Hyrule. He still hopes he will never wake up here again.

No word from Zelda reaches him. He doesn’t know how long it will take to gather all of Hyrule. Weeks, months perhaps. This may be the longest she will be trapped in the castle since he fought Ganon for the first time. 

Part of him still wants to tackle the Calamity on his own, or only with the champions’ support. But they have a choice. The same choice that was taken from him when he was four-twelve-seventeen, before he even knew there was a choice to make. Zelda never had a choice to begin with, chained down by her birthright and the dozens of Zeldas who came before her. But Hyrule. Oh, the rest of Hyrule still does.

He climbs the stairs, pausing at Revali’s Landing. The early-morning sun hasn’t even crested the hills yet, casting the landing in long shadows. His eyes linger on the symbol painted on the wood. The same symbol that his paraglider carries. 

Revali had come for him. 

He hadn’t remembered it, not before Zelda had brought it up, but his memories of the events leading up to his death are becoming clearer with each passing day. Revali had said he’d wanted to fight by Link’s side, and then he’d flown to the battlefield with every intention of doing so. A promise broken, a promise kept.

He’s been wanting to talk to Revali ever since he remembered, but Revali was already gone. He’s back now. Gale sits under his breastbone, nestled warmly alongside the other champions’ gifts. He has so much to do, but first…

Last time, he had needed time to think. The long climb up to Medoh had helped with that. But he’s already had plenty of time to think and he cannot bear to wait any longer. Vah Medoh is only one press away on the Sheikah Slate, so this time — even though he doesn't have the excuse of a recent battle — he takes the easy option and selects it.  

Revali is there when he appears, squinting over the edge of the spire. Looking for him, even though Rito Village isn’t actually visible from up here. There’s an anxious set to the way his wings are folded, one that is surely reflected in his eyes. It’s rare to see Revali this unguarded. It makes Link want to look a little longer before announcing his presence. 

But Revali is already angry enough with him as it is, so Link steps forward and braces himself for the onslaught.

“Hey.”

Revali’s entire form tenses up. He’s already shouting before he’s fully turned around, feathers fluttering.

“You! You— How dare you!”

Link raises his hands, trying for placating even though he knows it won’t work. He’s had several days to come to terms with his own death, something he wasn’t particularly bothered by in the first place. But Revali has only just learned that time did, in fact, reset, and that Link has been returned to life.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Not for dying, not really. But for the pain it caused Revali. The pain it caused everyone.

“Do you even know why?” 

“I died.” Link meets Revali’s eyes. He’d thought, last time, that Revali was angry because Link’s death had doomed them to yet another repeat. He now knows that isn’t true, but Revali doesn’t know that yet. Perhaps it isn’t fair, getting to redo this conversation while Revali is living through it for the first time. “I know, about the plan too. This isn’t the first time since… since then.”

Revali splutters, wind taken out of his sails. He folds his wings more tightly, clutching his left wing as if holding himself back from trying to grab for Link like last time.

“Well, good!” he says, clearly off-balance. “You know what to do, I’m certain. I do hope that you have decided to call upon our aid this time.”

“Yes,” Link nods. “And—”

“Then you have no time to lose,” Revali says, talking over him. He’s turning away again, wingtips twitching until he forcefully stills them. Instead of leaving like Revali clearly wants him to, Link sits down in Vah Medoh’s shadow, watching Revali’s back. He has no outlet for his anger anymore, does he? Not when Link already knows everything that happened.

“Revali,” he calls. “Thank you.” 

Revali freezes, staring straight ahead across Hyrule. “What are you thanking me for?” he says. The words are meant to be harsh, Link thinks. Instead, they come out trembling.

“You came.”

“How do you know that?” Revali asks, voice a near-whisper. An admission all on its own. Because here is the truth of the matter, the one thing even Zelda hadn’t known when she’d told him Revali had flown to Hyrule Field: in those last moments before he’d died, he’d seen the flash of blue entirely unlike the Guardians’ eyes. Entirely like the blue of Revali’s feathers. 

“I saw you.”

“Then what are you thanking me for?”

Revali’s voice breaks on the words. Link bites his lip. He pats the spot next to him.

“Sit down?” he asks. Revali glances back at him. He’s blinking furiously, a suspicious sheen over his green eyes. For a moment, Link thinks he’ll refuse outright or disappear into Vah Medoh again. But Revali throws one last glance into the distance, at the Flight Range, and lets himself fall like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s studiously not looking at Link.

“I’m glad you came,” Link tries. Revali makes a pained noise.

“What was the point of it? I was too late.” 

Link shakes his head. He’s almost glad for it: any earlier and Revali might have been killed like him. “That doesn’t matter.“

“Doesn’t matter?” Revali says, head snapping up. His eyes are furious and so, so hurt. “I saw you! I saw you fall! If I’d been faster, if I hadn’t stopped—” 

He chokes up there, lost for words like Link so often is. He draws further in on himself, wings once again tightly wrapped around his body. Link reaches out; a futile gesture. For now, at least.

“It doesn’t matter,” he insists. “I’m glad. I wanted to fight with you too.”

Revali lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “I didn’t manage that either.” He stares up at the morning sky, blinking rapidly. “Couldn’t fight Ganon, couldn’t defeat its monster, and I couldn’t even—” he furiously brushes a wing across his face, to no effect. “I had to tell them, you know? That I’d failed, and that you were gone. The Great Master Revali, and I couldn’t even do that.”

Even before they were anything resembling friends, when Link just visited Revali every once in a while out of a sense of guilt for leaving him trapped and alone for so long, it had always been clear just how much he longed to see the Rito again. For it to have happened like this…

“I’m sorry,” he says. “They were looking forward to meeting you.”

All the fight seems to flow out of Revali. He lowers his head again, meeting Link’s eyes. 

“They were kind, even though…” He swallows. “They helped.”

Good, Link gestures. Not like he expected anything else. The Rito had embraced him without knowing who he was, or even caring to find out. They would not have turned their back on Revali, no matter the circumstances. 

“I suppose I was relieved to find the village in good hands,” Revali continues, voice wavering but slowly growing in strength. “Even if no one has yet figured out how to use my Gale. I imagine not for lack of trying.”

Link shakes his head with a smile. Teba has spent a great many hours trying to master the technique, although he has refused Link’s offers to demonstrate after seeing him use Gale once. Just as well. Using Revali’s gift is only a poor imitation of the real thing. 

“They’ll help you too, when you ask,” Revali says. Link nods. There was never any doubt about that. He wishes they wouldn’t agree, but he can no longer deny them the option. 

The sun is rising above the Tabantha Frontier, a deep orange that heralds the same bright day Link has become used to. He should get going. He feels no desire to.

In the end, Revali makes the decision for him. “They’ll be awake now,” he says, gesturing downwards at where the village lies. “You should go talk to them.”

Link lets out a long breath. He has so much lying ahead of him. The other champions are all anxiously waiting for him, and Purah will need to upgrade the Sheikah Slate before he can make any meaningful plans. He wishes he could just sit here for a little bit longer, but there will be time. After.

First, though… He opens the Sheikah Slate and takes out the Great Eagle Bow, holding it out to Revali with both hands. Revali’s eyes go wide. His hands hover over the bow.

“You’re not taking it?” he asks, an undercurrent of hurt in his voice. Link shakes his head, wondering where he misstepped.

“It’s yours. You should use it.”

Revali pulls his hands back abruptly. “Well, don’t just leave it here. Take it to Harth,” he dictates. “He can actually look after a bow properly.”

Link smiles at the insult, taking the bow back and gingerly getting to his feet again. Revali follows, so they are side-by-side looking out at the castle.

“And don’t let him fight. He’ll want to, but he’s got this wing injury…” Revali rubs his left wing and glances up at Vah Medoh with a grimace. The Divine Beast lets out a mournful sound and Link nods, biting his lip. He thought Harth had fully recovered from his injury, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen him fly. 

“I won’t.” Or he’ll try, at least. Knowing the Rito, they’ll want to fight no matter what. He unfolds the paraglider, and Revali’s eyes immediately snap to it.

“And let him look at that too,” he says, voice gone quiet again. “Make sure it’s in good shape.”

Link nods, clutching the wood of the frame. “I’ll be back soon,” he says. Revali nods too, finally looking more settled.

“You had better.”

The Moblins are blue. 

Link takes a moment to be surprised by that, then charges in with his bow in hand. The Moblins aren’t so easily cowed by his fire arrows as their red counterparts were. It takes a few more threatening swings with a Flameblade before they seek out the safety of their camp, leaving Link alone with the Hylian traveler.

“I just left the stable!” he tells Link, again. “They swore up and down that there wouldn’t be any monsters on this road, can you believe it?” 

“There was a Blood Moon.”

The man sniffs. “Then they should’ve told me that!”

Link shrugs. He’s never actually seen the rumored Blood Moon that accompanies Zelda’s return to the castle. Revali had mentioned it once; from what he'd said, it had only lasted a few minutes, if that. Easy enough to miss for someone not paying attention when it was preceded by none of the usual signs.

The man isn’t put off by his indifference. “You’ve got to let me thank you, though,” he says, already digging through his satchel. Link holds up a hand and shakes his head to ward off the inevitable spicy elixir. 

“Where are you going?” he asks. He’s always assumed that the man was heading deeper into the mountains just from the road he was taking, but he’s never actually asked. The traveler points — at the Hebra Mountains, just as Link had feared.

“Up there! They say you can use a shield to go down the mountains, wouldn’t that be cool?”

Link winces at the idea of Selmie coming face-to-face with this guy, assuming he even makes it that far. He is still woefully underdressed and his spicy elixir won’t keep him warm for long.

“That’s not enough,” he says, nodding at the man’s padded doublet. “You need warmer clothes.”

He tugs at the hem of his own Snowquill Tunic. The man, once more proving his lack of common sense, makes a supremely doubtful noise. Link tugs off his right glove and holds it out for inspection.

“I suppose I could use some gloves…”  the man says, tugging on the glove to test it for warmth. Link nods encouragingly. “Fine, what do you recommend?”

With the traveler handed off to Nekk’s care and hopefully saved from an early freezing death, Link finds himself at a loss. He had intended, after saving the traveler yet another time, to head straight to the other champions. Revali has probably already informed them of his return. Rito Village feels like a detour he doesn’t want to take just yet. Eventually he will have to come back here and talk to Teba and Harth and all the others, but it is too early. Still. 

He balances the Sheikah Slate in his hands, glancing back at the entrance of the village, before making a decision and taking the stairs two at a time. He almost runs into Molli on the way up; he just barely catches her before she goes tumbling down. She blinks up at him, not at all ruffled by her near-fall. 

“Are you eating with us?” she chirps. Link shakes his head.

“Not today,” he replies, and continues, before disappointment can fully set on her face: “Is your daddy in the roost?” 

Molli nods. “Daddy’s working,” she confides in him, “but Mom and Dad said he shouldn’t, so don’t tell them, okay?”

Ah. If it weren’t for the fact that he needs Harth’s help, he probably would have told Saki and Teba. “I won’t,” he promises. At least not today. Not when he promised Revali to have the Great Eagle Bow looked over.

True to Molli’s words, he finds Harth in the roost, frowning down at the wood of what looks to be the beginnings of a Swallow Bow. He looks up when Link enters, wings covering the wood, but relaxing again when he realizes who’s entered. He winces when stretching his left wing. Link pretends not to notice.

“Link. What brings you here?”

Link wordlessly finds the Great Eagle Bow in the Sheikah Slate and holds it out. Harth raises an eyebrow.

“Is there a problem? I checked it over the other day, did I not? You take as good care of it as can be expected.”

For a Hylian, Link hears, and it’s such a Revali thing to say that he almost giggles. He turns it into a wry smile instead. 

“I’ve been told that’s not enough.”

Harth gives him a curious look, but Link refuses to elaborate. He’ll explain later. Instead, he pushes the Great Eagle Bow towards Harth again. Harth finally accepts it, but Link quickly holds up a hand when he tries to test the strength of the string. Short of Revali, no Rito has ever been able to draw it consistently and this doesn’t look like a good day for Harth to try.

“It’s not urgent,” he says. “I’ll explain later, but, just look after it? Make sure it’s okay.”

“I do expect that explanation,” Harth says, gingerly placing the Great Eagle Bow on a side table and picking up the soon-to-be Swallow Bow again. Link nods, feeling strangely bereft without the Great Eagle Bow in the Sheikah Slate. It’s not like he usually carries it along. Most of the time, he keeps the champions’ weapons in his house in Hateno, where they’re safe from accidental damage. For so long, they were the only things he had left of them. But the bow is in safe hands with Harth, and a Rito will know exactly how to fine-tune it.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” he promises. Harth nods, already back to shaping the wood. His eyes are sharp as he watches Link leave. Link lets him draw his own conclusions. He’ll be back to confirm them soon enough.

Both Daruk and Urbosa are relieved to see him alive, and quick to guess that he already knows the details of his own death. Daruk, once more, apologizes for the Gorons’ reluctance to participate; and Link, once more, assures him it isn’t a problem. It truly isn’t. Aside from his lingering relief that he won’t be putting them in danger, Link has another role in mind for the Gorons, one he believes they will be happy to take on.

His attempted return of the Great Eagle Bow had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, something to make Revali feel better. But there’s no point in leaving the champions’ treasured weapons lying around when they cannot yet wield them, so he doesn’t offer Urbosa or Daruk theirs. He will, when the battle is closer and he’s found the support the champions so desperately want him to have. Support that may not be as easy to come by as they might hope.

“My father did not wish for us to fight,” Mipha tells him in the wake of their reunion. Link resists the urge to raise an eyebrow. Oh, she did not tell him that when they last had this conversation.

King Dorephan’s disagreement is both more and less surprising than that of the Gorons. More, since the king used to be a fierce warrior in his own right and has always kept Zora’s Domain ready for battle; and less, because he will not want to risk the safety of his children, especially with Mipha returned to him. Again, there is the urge to call the whole thing off and fight Ganon on his own. But if he attacked the castle alone, the champions would not hold their fire. Nor would they appreciate having their hand forced like this.

He needs the Zora. Short of the Gerudo, they are perhaps the largest force Hyrule has to offer. If they will not be able to stand by his side, he will need to revise large parts of the plan.

“But I do think you should ask,” Mipha continues, already anticipating his thoughts. “Even if my father did not wish it, many of the Zora were eager to fight by your side. My brother, of course, and your old friends as well.”

Link chuckles at that. As with most things, he has very few memories of the time he spent with Bazz and the other members of the brigade, but they have never been offended by his lack of knowledge. Instead, they are always eager to bring up stories of those days he spent in Zora’s Domain. And even though he doesn’t always recognize the Link they talk about, at least it sounds like that Link had fun. Fighting Calamity Ganon alongside them only sounds like the latest in a long list of ever-escalating schemes.

Some part of him, probably the same part that enjoyed those schemes, is looking forward to fighting by their side again.

“I will talk to them,” he says. Even if King Dorephan forbids it, he cannot possibly prevent all his subjects from leaving. Mipha smiles, looking distinctly relieved.

“I am glad,” she says. “I was afraid you would be opposed.”

There’s no hiding from Mipha. Whatever expression Link must have made, she reads it accurately. She sighs.

“Or I suppose you were. I am glad, then, that you were able to see the value of this plan.”

Link stares at a patch of shiny rock somewhere near Mipha’s feet. “Zelda helped,” he says, and Mipha makes a soft noise of approval. “She said… They get a choice.”

“Ah.” Mipha says. When Link looks up, she is already looking at him, amber eyes intent. “No matter the outcome, I do not regret the choice I made. It allowed me to meet Ruta, and to spend time with you and Zelda. But I am sorry that that same choice was not offered to you.”

Link tilts his head in a sideways nod. She isn’t the first person to have expressed this sentiment, and while her concern feels like vindication, it doesn’t change what came before.

Would he even have fought the Calamity if he had never been part of the Hylian army, or never drawn the Master Sword? He likes to think he wouldn’t have sat idly when the Calamity unleashed its forces, but if he truly is the Chosen Hero of Legend, then, like Zelda, his choices were already taken from him eons before he was born.

There’s no changing the past. He can only hope he gets to choose the future.

“Will you come back once you have talked to my father?” Mipha asks. Link nods. It will be a while before he actually gets to talk to King Dorephan, but it’s an easy enough request to comply with.

“I’ll tell you how it went.”

“Thank you,” Mipha says with a smile. Link smiles in return. “And when you see my father and Sidon, please tell them…” she swallows. “Tell them that I miss them, and that I hope to see them again soon.”

Link goes through Castle Town on autopilot, working his way through its many Guardians to collect the cores he needs. He enters the castle to do the same, fighting his way up the long, winding road — and then pauses, lowering his bow. He knows the castle. He remembers its passageways and shortcuts. But he won’t be entering it alone this time. 

The plan, as it stands, really is quite simple. He will use the Travel Medallion to appear at the Castle Sanctum, along with everyone who wishes to fight with him. The room where he fights Ganon lies just underneath the castle. He wasn’t aware of its existence before he fought Ganon that first time, and neither was Zelda. Yet another secret hidden from them. 

Getting out of the observatory will be harder than getting in. He cannot let the Dark Beast loose on Hyrule Field, not when the only people there will be the Rito to stem the inevitable Guardian tide. He will be taking the Travel Medallion along, but if, for whatever reason, he can’t use it, or Zelda can’t come for them, they will need other exits. 

With that in mind, he continues up towards the Sanctum. The waterfalls will serve the Zora just fine. No such easy shortcuts for the Gerudo, who may need to take the long way that Link already took once before. He frowns. It is a flaw in his plans that he doesn’t know how to resolve.

It takes him hours to track down every single Guardian in the castle. By the time he actually arrives at the Sanctum, he is exhausted and sweating through his Champion’s tunic, and he’s had to face Revali’s scorn-covered anxiety more than once. But the regular cores — the ones he’ll need for the badges — still only make up a small part of the Guardian materials he gathered. Even if he tracks down every Guardian in Hyrule, it might still not be enough. What he needs…

What he needs is a Blood Moon.

But Zelda has Ganon well under control now. He stands dawdling in front of the Sanctum, catching his breath and swatting away some errant sparks of Malice. 

Link? Is everything okay?

Link smiles. It’s really only been a day, but he is glad to hear Zelda’s voice, even if it’s just in his head.

“Yeah,” he says. He takes a step closer to the Castle Sanctum and feels a momentary flash of panic that has him shaking his head.

“I won’t, I promise.” 

Even if he did want to face the Calamity alone (and he wants to, oh how he wants to), there is no point in doing so now, without the Sheikah Slate upgraded and everything ready to bring the champions back to them. Zelda seems to realize that too. The panic abates, making way for something that feels like embarrassment. 

Will you be ready?

Link looks back down the road he came from, now utterly devoid of Guardians. “I need a Blood Moon,” he says. “Not today, but soon.”

Every Blood Moon presents a danger to Hyrule but, he thinks, the only new monsters coming back to life will be the Guardians he’s fought today. No one is foolish enough to come here except for him.

I think I can do that, Zelda replies. In a few days. I shall let you know.

“Thanks,” Link says and adds, “You’re okay?” 

I am. I am still able to preserve my power until it is needed,Zelda says. She does sound a lot stronger. Last time, she could barely get a full sentence across. He wishes he could fight Ganon sooner, but there still is a lot of work ahead of him.

“I’m going to Purah,” he says, holding up the Sheikah Slate, even though he has no idea if Zelda can see it. Zelda’s laugh tinkles in his head. 

You remember everything? Ask me if you don’t, all right? And say hello from me.

“I will. I’ll be back soon.” 

Zelda wasn’t wrong to worry — it has been several weeks since he had to tell Purah about the Sheikah Slate and their work in the Shrine of Resurrection, and some of the details have become frustratingly vague. But between Purah, Symin and Robbie, they do figure it out eventually. Purah, as always, is exceedingly enthusiastic about the whole affair. It takes Link a couple of days to spill the whole plan to her, by which point the Sheikah Slate has already been upgraded and she and Robbie are neck-deep in dismantling the Shrine of Resurrection.

“Hmm, well, have you talked to my little sis yet?” Purah asks, not looking up from where she’s bolting parts together of the device they'd devised,the one that will bring the Shrine’s healing technology directly to the Divine Beasts. Or at least, trying to. All the knowledge she has doesn’t make up for a six-year-old’s lack of strength. She makes a frustrated noise and Link steps up, taking the wrench from her.

“I have,” he says. “Last time.”

“Good, good, she always had much more of a head for all the strategy stuff than I did,” she tells him. Link gets the final part into position and bolts it down. Purah hums approvingly.

“Looking good there! So we’ll be taking this thing to the Divine Beasts?”

“Vah Naboris first,” Link confirms. He pauses, mind on the battle ahead. “Those pillars. What do you know about them?”

“The ones at the castle?” Purah asks, puzzled by Link’s sudden change of topic. Link nods. They’ve been bothering him. In the end, he would have defeated Ganon during their last attempt if it hadn’t been for the sudden influx of all those Guardians. They’re what killed him, not Ganon. 

Purah taps her fingers on the wall of the shrine. “They’re made of the same stuff as this, we’re pretty sure,” she says. That makes sense. The pillars, like the shrines and the Divine Beasts, are Sheikah in nature.

“It’s where the Guardians come from.”

Purah laughs bitterly. “Oh, trust me, I know. Robbie and I were right there at the castle when Ganon emerged.”

Link hadn’t known that. “Can you disable them?” 

“We’ve tried, but they’re not active anymore and we can’t study them properly until they are. I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”

Link frowns. He’d hoped for better news. If even Purah and Robbie have no idea where to start, then the best he can do is ensure everyone has the weapons they need to survive. There will be so many more people in need of a constant supply of weaponry and Zelda will only have moments to bring them. The Rito in particular, who will be faced with Ganon’s unending flood of Guardians, will need all the supplies they can get. Link knows first-hand how easy it is to run out of arrows, and the lightweight Rito shields will never hold up against a sustained Guardian attack. Anything heavier will render them unable to fly. Their best defense will be altitude, and taking the Guardians down before they can open fire.

Something to ask Robbie. At least, with Zelda’s promised Blood Moon coming up soon, he won’t be lacking in Guardian parts.

With the Sheikah Slate in working order and the device to bring back the champions safely stored inside, there isn’t actually anything preventing Link from fighting the Calamity aside from the promise he made to Zelda. Zelda seems to know that too, because the promised Blood Moon appears the very next night. Link spends another fruitful day collecting Guardian parts before retiring to his house in Hateno. It has now been a week since he woke up in the Swallow’s Roost again, and he can no longer delay the plans he made.

He still doesn’t head to Kakariko Village straight away the following morning, telling himself that it would be impolite to barge into Impa’s abode when the sun has only just risen. Paya, at least, most certainly isn’t a morning person. But when even an extended breakfast and an impromptu shopping trip aren’t enough to buy himself more than an hour or two, he resigns himself to the conversations to come.

He takes the long way down from the shrine overseeing Kakariko Village. Cado is the one guarding the entrance today, and he waves Link through with just a quick good morning. It is a far cry from the pomp that accompanied his visits with Zelda, and a relief because of it. Inside, he finds Impa already awake. She does not look at all surprised by his arrival.

“I was wondering when you would make your way here,” she says, a mischievous light dancing in her eyes. At Link’s questioning look, she elaborates: “My sister has been keeping me abreast of recent developments.”

Her eyes linger significantly on the Sheikah Slate tied to Link’s belt. Of course. The Sheikah network is as vast as it is invisible. 

“What did she tell you?” Link asks. Part of him resents his movements being tracked; another part is grateful that it cuts down on the explanation he’ll have to give Impa.

“She told me she has been working on the Sheikah Slate again, at your request,” Impa says, “and that you were headed to the Shrine of Resurrection.” 

There's a shrewd look in her eyes that reminds him distinctly of Purah. It is hard, sometimes, to think of Impa and Purah as sisters when their ages seem so far apart, but now it is easy as anything. Even if he wanted to, there will be no hiding the truth about what led him here. If he doesn’t tell her, she, like her sister so many loops ago, will figure it out on her own.

“The champions are still alive,” he says. There’s no avoiding it, and as long as it’s just him and Impa here, he doesn’t need to deal with the shocked reactions of an entire village. Impa’s reaction is surprisingly understated: her eyes widen briefly and her hands clench in the fabric of her robe, but she only nods for Link to continue.

“The Divine Beasts. They kept them alive. But we have to save them before we defeat Ganon, or…”

“Or they will die?” Impa guesses. Link nods. If only he’d been able to defeat Ganon on his own, then the champions would already be here with him. Then this cycle would have already been broken. 

“Zelda can save them. But I need help to fight the Calamity without her.”

“The princess…?” Even through the wrinkles on her face, Link can see her eyes narrow. Impa shifts, laboriously rising to her knees. Link rushes over to help her up. “Well. I do believe you had better tell me everything.”

The story of the cycle still isn’t one he wants spread far and wide, but Impa deserves to know. By the time he’s told her the highlights of everything he and Zelda have lived through in the past few months, including the disastrous outcome of their last attempt at reviving the champions and the plans he already drew up with Impa last time, the morning is halfway through and stumbling in the room above tells them Paya has woken up. Impa calls for breakfast as soon as she makes it downstairs, and brings in Cado and Dorian when they have finished eating.

“The Sheikah have long operated from the shadows,” Impa says. Link nods. This isn’t news to him, and their role in this massive plan even depends on it. The Sheikah will evacuate the wounded, taking them as far away from the battlefield as possible. “Back before the Calamity struck, we knew every passageway of the castle, maybe even better than you did. Yet this Observatory you speak of isn’t familiar to me.”

The Astral Observatory, where he’s been fighting Ganon almost every time, is clearly of Sheikah make, but Link hadn’t known of its existence until Ganon quite literally crashed into it. He opens the Sheikah Slate to the map of the castle, rotating it until they can get a clear view. There is a conspicuous open space below the Sanctum, with all the corridors of the castle wrapping around it. This is where the Observatory fits, below ground level.

Impa studies it with great gravitas, nodding as she uses a gnarled finger to draw a line from the observatory to the outside of the castle. 

“Do you remember the passageway to the Sacred Grounds?” she asks. Link hesitates before shaking his head. He had thought he remembered all the secret entrances to the castle, but this one eludes him.

“It will lead you from the guards’ chambers all the way past Castle Town,” she says. For a moment, she falls silent. “It is, I believe, how my sister and Robbie escaped from the castle all those years ago.”

It isn’t just Link who looks surprised. Dorian and Cado look up and Paya asks: “Grandmother?”

Impa brings her hands together, eyes distant. “On the day of the Calamity, I accompanied you to Kakariko Village, do you remember that?”

Link mutely shakes his head. His memories of that day remain frustratingly vague. He doesn’t even remember setting out from the castle, only the trek up and down Mount Lanayru and the disaster that awaited them below. 

“The princess was to return to Kakariko Village after praying at the Spring of Wisdom,” Impa continues. “Whilst you continued your journey up the mountain, I stayed behind to get everything ready for — what we hoped would be — a successful return. My sister and Robbie, as well as a number of other Sheikah researchers, had remained in the castle. For a very long time, I did not know whether she had survived. I feared the worst—”

Impa swallows heavily, and Paya wraps an arm around her shoulders. Even though Purah also told him as much, Link can barely imagine it. Purah and Robbie seem untouchable, always eager to take on any challenge thrown their way. Something like the Calamity shouldn’t be able to bring them down. But he also remembers those frantic hours he and Zelda spent on the run, trying to keep ahead of the outpouring of Guardians and save those people they still could save. 

“They escaped through the Sacred Grounds, and met up with the Sheikah tasked to take you to the Shrine of Resurrection,” Impa continues. Her tone abruptly becomes more business-like. “I believe Robbie has used the passageway to sneak into the castle since. You should talk to him. If it is still accessible, it is your best chance at getting out of the castle quickly.”

That does explain the Ancient Arrows he keeps finding in the castle. Link smiles faintly. Whenever he thinks he’s fully grasped the extent of Robbie and Purah’s eccentricities, they still manage to surprise him. 

“I will ask,” he says. Impa nods and reaches for her cup, drinking deeply. Link refills it for her before Paya can take the pitcher. 

It is nearing lunch and they are winding down their conversation when Dorian speaks up. He has been surprisingly reticent throughout the morning, only speaking when directly addressed, and Link can wager a pretty good guess why. His instinct is confirmed upon hearing Dorian’s words.

“What about the Yiga?”

He spits it out, as if the words have been burning his tongue all this time. Link thinks they might have been. Dorian isn’t looking at any of them, but Link sees understanding dawn on Impa’s face. He doesn’t know if Dorian has ever told her about his past. Link himself has never felt the need to spread the word, even if Dorian is responsible for the constant Yiga attacks he faces. At this point, they have become more of a nuisance than a genuine threat and, in fact, he hasn’t thought of them in a long time. They have never shown up in the days after Ganon’s defeat, probably hidden away to lick their wounds.

“Do you think they will attack?” Link asks, careful to aim the question at the room at large instead of Dorian directly. They never have, before, but a mobilization on the scale they’re planning will inevitably draw their attention. He doesn’t need some last-ditch effort to prevent him from reaching Ganon.

“We cannot discount the risk,” Impa replies in Dorian’s place, confirming to Link that she knows about Dorian’s past. “Although as far as I know, the majority of their forces remain within the Gerudo Highlands.”

“I’ll ask the Gerudo,” Link decides. Riju and her people have suffered from the Yiga as well; they will be more than happy to help. 

Dorian flinches at the mention of the Gerudo, but the solution seems to appease him. Link does not need him to take an active role in keeping the Yiga in check. Dorian’s skills are better used elsewhere.

It is a long day before he retires to the Shuteye Inn, taking up the same bed he used when he and Zelda stayed here. There truly is no way back now: Impa has already started preparations for the battle. The rest of Hyrule awaits. 

Zora’s Domain is cloaked in the aftermath of a rain shower when he arrives, water still dripping down the arches of the Great Zora Bridge and puddling on the walkway. Link would ordinarily prefer the shrine in the middle of the domain, but if he is to ask for the Zora’s aid, he will come to them as the champion tasked with slaying the Calamity. 

Rivan stands guard at the entrance and waves with good cheer when he approaches. “Champion!” he greets, an inside joke almost. “Dunma has just gone to fetch us breakfast. Care to join?”

Any other day, he would have been happy to, but Link shakes his head.

“I need to talk to the king.”

Rivan waves his spear up at the higher levels of the domain, where King Dorephan resides. “You know the way,” he says, curiosity clear in his eyes. “Anything I can help with?”

“Maybe,” Link hedges, following it up with a signed later. Rivan accepts that with good grace. Regardless of King Dorephan’s decision, he will probably need Rivan’s help, as well as that of his other friends.

He is a common enough sight in Zora’s Domain that no one pays him much attention as he makes his way up. It only lasts until he reaches the upper levels and Sidon spots him, of course. Link smiles, a little wryly, when Sidon calls out to him. It is because of Sidon that he stands here now, and some deep, dark part of him still wishes that Sidon had never said anything.

“Link! It is good to see you, my friend,” Sidon says, meeting him halfway. Link’s smile turns genuine, and he gestures a quick hello, which Sidon returns.

“What brings you here?” Sidon asks curiously. Link takes a deep breath. No way back.

“I need to talk to the king. About the Calamity.”

Sidon sobers. “Of course. I’m sure Father will see you right away.” He looks down at Link. “Will you be fighting it?”

Link nods, shrugging when Sidon’s frown deepens. The battle itself no longer scares him. 

“Know that you can always count on our help,” Sidon says, entirely as Link expected.

“I know.”

He follows Sidon to the throne room of Zora’s Domain, where King Dorephan sits, towering over his subjects. Since discovering that there was still a chance at reviving the champions, Link has idly wondered whether Mipha would grow to be as tall as her brother, or even taller. If Mipha ever told him about her mother, he doesn’t remember it. He does not know what became of her and he isn’t willing to ask Sidon about yet another missing family member.

“Champion,” King Dorephan addresses him, “what is your purpose for coming?” 

Link sinks into a bow, just barely deep enough for a king of an allied kingdom. Him bowing at all is a novelty, at least recently. He does not particularly like the Zora addressing him by his title, but he has come to them wearing his champion’s tunic, so perhaps it is no more than fair. 

He takes a moment to wish that Zelda was here. He knows all the formal ways to ask for aid, but so often his words fail him in these crucial moments.

“I bring news. And I have a request.”

“State it, then,” King Dorephan says, not unkindly. Like Sidon, he probably already suspects what Link has come to ask. Link glances at Sidon, who is eagerly leaning forward. The news he brings them will be a shock but, Link believes, not an unwelcome one.

“Champion Mipha is…” he swallows and powers through when Sidon’s face pre-emptively falls. “Mipha is still alive. She can be saved.”

King Dorephan half-rises from his throne. Sidon gasps, turning to Link.

“You mean it? My sister is still alive?”

Link nods. “Vah Ruta was able to save her.”

“After you appeased Vah Ruta, you told us that princess Mipha was dead,” King Dorephan says. He doesn’t sound accusatory; rather, he sounds like a man trying not to get his hopes up. Link shakes his head.

"We thought she was. It was only recently that... I learned otherwise. The Divine Beasts had a failsafe. The champions are alive."

“This is joyous news,” King Dorephan says, still sounding like he hardly believes it. He sinks back down onto his throne. “Champion, tell us, what must be done for my daughter to be brought back to us?”

“She was badly hurt. Vah Ruta is keeping her in stasis, but…” Link says, trying to get across just how close to death she still is. The Divine Beasts are nearing the limit of their capabilities even without firing their cannons. It won’t be long before their energy is irreversibly exhausted. “Princess Zelda can save her, but she has to leave the castle.”

“Thus giving the Calamity free rein,” King Dorephan deduces. Link nods, glad that he doesn’t have to explain it. “What is your request, Champion?”

“I will fight Calamity Ganon,” Link says, “while the princess heals the champions. I’ll need help.”

“Of course!” Sidon says right away. To Link’s surprise, King Dorephan nods as well. 

“Indeed. The Zora will stand by your side, to rid the land of this terror that has held us in its grip and return Princess Mipha to us. Sidon,” he says, turning to his son, “gather the Council of Elders. We have much to discuss.”

“Right away!” Sidon says. He rushes off and King Dorephan watches him go, slumping as soon as he disappears from sight. 

“They are much alike, my children,” he muses. Link doesn’t know whether he’s supposed to reply or not. “Often I fear what you inspire them to do.”

Link squirms uncomfortably. In the Sheikah Slate, he still carries the Zora Armor, an expression of Mipha’s wishes. He has not been able to fulfill them. 

Fortunately, King Dorephan does not begrudge him his silence. “I could not forbid my daughter her choices,” he continues, “even when the council begged me to. But oh, how I have come to regret it since. I wonder…” He falls silent. Link does not know how long King Dorephan has held the throne. Centuries, perhaps. Far longer than Link has been alive. He looks tired now, even despite the news of Mipha’s survival. “Ah, but she would have found a way.” 

“Mipha misses you,” Link offers. What else can he say in the face of the king’s grief? “She hopes to see you soon.”

King Dorephan smiles. “It has long been my dearest wish. For that, at least, I thank you, Champion.”

The king is content to leave him to his silence after that, which is a good thing, because Link does not know how to continue the conversation. Sidon returns just a little later with the elder Zora in tow. Some of them greet Link upon spotting him; others just glare, even a year after Link has freed Vah Ruta. Link does not expect them to change their mind about him. Even when Mipha returns, they will likely never forget Link’s failure and the century where he left Hyrule to its own devices.

King Dorephan wastes no time starting the meeting, detailing what Link has already told him. The news of Mipha’s survival leaves enough of an impact that the king has to pause the meeting mere moments after it started, as Muzu and Seggin leave the room, tears in their eyes. It takes them several long minutes to return. 

“We will do whatever it takes to facilitate Princess Mipha’s safe return,” King Dorephan continues. “Any Zora who wishes to fight by the Champion’s side has my permission to do so.”

Link had prepared himself for subterfuge after Mipha’s warnings. The king’s willingness to lend his aid is a welcome surprise, but he does wonder why his reaction is so drastically different from the one Mipha prepared him for.

“I will rely on the council, as well as Prince Sidon, to coordinate this battle from Zora’s Domain.”

Ah, there it is. Sidon sputters, turning towards his father.

“Father, surely my presence would be of more use on the battlefield?” he asks, upset already coloring his words. 

King Dorephan shakes his head. “I shan’t risk the life of the Crown Prince.”

That makes Sidon sputter even more. “Father, once Mipha returns, there is no longer any need for me to—”

“This is not up for discussion,” King Dorephan says, cutting through Sidon’s words. “You will stay in Zora’s Domain.”

Link bites his lip. Sidon’s help would be a great asset, but he also sees the fear in King Dorephan’s eyes. If this is the king’s decision, it isn’t up to him to interfere now.

But Sidon isn’t done. “You allowed Mipha to fight the Calamity when she was barely grown,” he spits out. 

Dorephan rises from his throne. “And I have regretted it ever since. My word is final. You will remain here.”

Sidon clenches his fists, glaring up at his father. The council of elders offers him no support; in fact, Link notices several of them nodding approvingly. When Sidon notices this as well, he wordlessly turns around and leaves the throne room with angry steps. Link makes a helpless gesture, wanting to go after him but not knowing how to change the king’s mind.

King Dorephan sits down again, looking even older than before. He glances at Link.

“I will not risk yet another one of my children, Champion. I hope you understand.”

Link does. Link absolutely understands. He doesn’t want to risk anyone at all.

He doesn’t see Sidon again until after he has outlined his plans in full detail. The Zora will be with him in the castle, fighting the Calamity. It means he has to go over each move the Calamity makes and how to guard from it. The Council of Elders appear to be under the impression that his knowledge comes from a mix of memories from a century ago and prophetic knowledge Zelda was somehow able to share, and Link is in no great hurry to correct them.

When they emerge from the throne room, a curious hush settles over the Zora gathered at the bottom of the stairs. The throne room doesn’t offer great privacy, and many people have noticed the council convening and Sidon storming off soon afterwards. 

“The King has made an announcement,” Muzu speaks to the gathered crowd. Link, at his side, stands stiffly, resisting the urge to fidget under the stares of so many people. “The Zora will aid the Hylian Champion in the fight against the Calamity. Any Zora who wishes to join the fight is welcome to do so. No Zora will be thought less of for remaining.”

“When are you fighting it?” Someone — Bazz, by the sound of it — shouts. Muzu looks at Link, who shrugs helplessly. That will depend on whoever else wants to help.

“A time has yet to be decided,” Muzu continues, flawlessly turning Link’s hesitance into something that sounds intentional. “You will be informed well in advance. If you wish to join the fight, please inform the council.”

“I’ll fight!” Rivan shouts, and is immediately joined by a number of other people, Bazz and Gaddisson chief among them. Trello flinches, but doesn’t protest. It’s strange, standing on the stairs and watching the Zora discuss how to help him. The thought of it still frightens him, but it’s… a strange comfort, to see so many people jump at the chance to come to his aid.

Link glances to the side and spots Sidon, halfway up the stairs that lead away from Zora’s Domain. He’s not saying anything, just watching as the crowd chatters. It’s then that Muzu gives up on trying to get anyone’s attention and the elder Zora go down the stairs to join the crowd. Link looks back over his shoulder, at the throne room where King Dorephan still sits, eyes fixed on the shape of Vah Ruta in the far-off distance.

Then he gets drawn into the crowd and is immediately bombarded with questions: what is he planning? What is the Calamity like? When will they fight it? By the time he escapes the incessant chatter, he finds himself near Mipha’s statue. Sidon is there, as he so often is when his thoughts turn maudlin. 

Okay? Link gestures when he draws near. Sidon looks down at him and then back at Mipha’s statue, sighing.

“It is truly galling, having my dear friend charging into battle while I am to be confined here,” he says. Link grimaces. He understands King Dorephan very well, but he knows Sidon too. He looks up at the carved lines of Mipha’s stone face.

“Mipha knew you would want to help,” he says. It’s needlessly oblique, but he does not want to tell Sidon the truth about the repeats when the Zora are milling all around them. “… There might be a way.”

Because even if Link still has qualms about taking his friends directly into danger, he already knows it won’t work. And if Sidon is going to join them, then Link prefers knowing about it in advance.

Sidon’s eyes sharpen. He looks at the Zora surrounding them. There is no way to have a conversation here that won’t find its way back to King Dorephan’s ears. “Let’s talk,” he says. “Lulu Lake, when the sun reaches its highest point.”

Link nods his agreement and Sidon leaves soon after. It is a good thing that Lulu Lake has a shrine nearby, because he gets drawn into conversation with Rivan and Dunma again, and is only able to extract himself and disappear when the rumbling of his stomach announces the middle of the day.

Lulu Lake lies below Ploymus Mountain, glittering in the mid-day sun. Link glides down and lands on the edge of the lake, looking around while he folds the paraglider. At first, he thinks Sidon hasn’t made it to the lake yet, but a moment later he spots a glimpse of red off to the side. Sidon is standing in front of the stone monument at Lulu Lake, eyes fixed on the carved text.

“My sister faced down the Calamity,” Sidon says when Link steps up next to him, “and my greatest achievement is defeating an Octorok.”

A really big Octorok, if the monument is to be believed, that terrorized the people of Hateno and killed many before Sidon was able to take it down. But he doubts Sidon would appreciate those words now. No one will disturb them here, not when all of Zora’s Domain is making excited plans to fight the Calamity, but Link still has another place in mind. One that he thinks will serve Sidon better.

“Here,” he says, taking out one of the badges Robbie created for the Sheikah Slate. Sidon accepts it, maudlin expression making way for confusion.

“What is it?”

“It’s connected to the Sheikah Slate,” Link explains. He mimes clipping it to his collar, and Sidon follows his lead without any hesitation, attaching the badge to his sash. “It’s how I go to other places.”

Sidon has seen him disappear into thin air often enough to need no further explanation. “Are we going somewhere else, then?”

Link nods, opening up the map while Sidon peers curiously over his shoulder. He makes no effort to hide their destination — Sidon would find out in a few moments anyway — and Sidon makes a soft sound of recognition when Link selects the marker and both of them are carried away by the ancient Sheikah technology.

Vah Ruta is a constant presence overlooking Zora’s Domain. Sidon shudders when he and Link reappear; by now, Link has long become used to the sensation, but he remembers the vertigo of using the Sheikah Slate for the very first time on the Great Plateau and sympathizes.

“Thank you,” Sidon says, startling Link out of his thoughts. He isn’t talking to Link, but to the towering form of Vah Ruta. “I am grateful for everything you have done for us. For keeping my sister safe.”

Vah Ruta lets out a rumbling noise that Link has come to recognize as ‘pleased’. 

“As am I,” says Mipha, and now it’s Sidon’s turn to startle. Link, already long used to the champions appearing out of thin air, merely smiles. “Hello, Sidon. I am so very glad to see you again.”

“Sister,” Sidon chokes out. “You are really here?”

He reaches out to take her hands, but Mipha steps back, a sad smile on her face. “Merely my soul, for now,” she explains. “But very soon, I will be able to wake up again. I trust that Link and Zelda will make it happen.”

It already happened once before, and Mipha lost that chance because of him. Link looks down, away from Sidon’s teary eyes.

“I wish to help,” Sidon says, “but Father refuses to let me fight.”

“I had feared as much,” Mipha says. “Especially since… Ah, Link, have you told them?”

Link shakes his head. This is part of why he wanted to bring Sidon here, far away from any Zora who might be capable of following them.

“Would you like me to explain?” Mipha asks. Link shakes his head again. She would undoubtedly be much better at it than him, but Sidon should hear the story from his mouth.

“Time is repeating,” he says, beating Sidon to the questions he’s already starting to ask. “I have fought the Calamity before.”

Sidon shuts his mouth abruptly, at a loss for words. He looks from Link to Mipha and back, as if asking for help.

“I do not know how many times Link and princess Zelda have lived through this fight,” Mipha says. Link signs a quick ten and she nods in acknowledgment, “but myself and the other champions also carry with us the memories of these past cycles.”

She swallows. Link already has the benefit of some distance from his own death, but for her it is still very recent. 

“It works,” he feels compelled to add. “Zelda can save them. But we need—”

“Last time, we were not able to achieve the full result we wished for,” Mipha says, which is a very tactful way of saying Link got himself killed. “Without Zelda there, the Calamity has an army at its disposal. This is why Link needs your support.” 

Link is at least grateful she doesn’t tell Sidon about his death. He can imagine all too well how Sidon would react.

“I—” Sidon still seems lost for words. He shakes his head and recovers. “I am so sorry you had to go through this, my friend. Of course I wish to help! But Father…”

Ah, and so they’re back to the reason they came here in the first place.

“I talked to Father, last time,” Mipha says. “And you, of course. Father is afraid to lose you.” 

“I know,” Sidon says, suddenly no longer the younger sibling asking for help, but a full-grown Zora, older than Mipha ever was, “but I cannot stand it. How can I call myself crown prince if I let my people, my dear friends, charge into battle while I stay behind? Besides,” he smiles, “the title is yours. I am certain Father will bestow it upon you again.”

“Ah,” Mipha smiles as well, but her smile has a wry edge to it. “I did wish to talk to you about that. I do not intend to reclaim the position.”

Oh? Link stands a little straighter. He had known, distantly, that Sidon had become crown prince because Mipha was presumed dead. And like Sidon, he had assumed that Mipha would take on the title again, like Zelda intended to take the throne.

“Sister, you cannot do that!” Sidon says, indignation coloring his words. “You are heir to the throne, I was merely taking your place!”

“I was fifty-one when the Calamity’s monster struck me down,” Mipha’s eyes are distant, “and I will be barely older when I wake up again. You are more than twice my age now, are you not?”

Sidon looks like he doesn’t want to acknowledge that fact at all. “That doesn’t matter, you are still—”

“You have far more experience than I do. You are a much better candidate than I am now.”

“What is a hundred years to a Zora?” Sidon argues. “Father will reign for a long time yet. You will have time to learn what I did!”

“I will be by your side,” Mipha tells him. She looks determined, and Link does not think either Sidon or King Dorephan will be able to change her mind. He wonders what she will do instead.

Sidon starts arguing again, but Mipha shakes her head. “We will discuss this after we have defeated the Calamity. And while I am terrified of seeing you in battle, I understand. Fortunately, I believe the solution is quite simple.” She smiles at Link, who had been happy to stay out of the conversation up until now. “I believe you have already received the badge that lets you travel with Link, have you not?”

Still looking vaguely mutinous, Sidon shows her the badge clipped to his sash. 

“Then keep it on you, out of sight. And when Link takes the Zora to the castle, just stay nearby. You will be brought along.”

Link nods to confirm her words. Sidon takes off the badge and studies it.

“It will take me along? Just like that?”

“Unless you deactivate it,” Link says. He finds another one of the badges in the Sheikah Slate and shows Sidon how to push it until the lines of light running through it fade. It’s a new feature Robbie came up with, once they realized they had to be able to evacuate people without taking everyone on the battlefield. 

“Father will be furious,” Sidon says, studying the badge with renewed interest. Mipha giggles, a gleam in her eyes that Link only very rarely sees.

“Probably,” she says, “but he will be furious at home, and you will be far away.”

Sidon grins, and for a moment Link is hit with a vague memory of a Zora child toddling after Mipha, smiling that same wide smile whenever she played with him.

“Thank you for letting me fight with you,” he says to Link and Mipha both. “I will not disappoint you!”

“You never could,” Mipha says, “Just promise me you both will be careful.”

Chapter Text

Like the Zora, there is very little doubt that the Gerudo will join in the fight against the Calamity. Link isn’t entirely clear on the history they have with Ganon: something about an ancient Gerudo king? It sounds impossible — why would the Gerudo even have kings? — but whatever the truth of it, it is a deep-seated grudge that they have carried with them for millennia.

The sun is already warmer than it has any right to be when Link enters the town, clad in the comfort of the Gerudo vai clothes. Isha waves from the doorway of her shop, and Link waves back, making a mental note to visit her after talking to Riju. Her jewelry will be a massive boon in the upcoming battle, and there are enough gems in the Sheikah Slate to at least get her started.

Here too, Link has become a common sight. The guards at the palace step aside sleepily, leaving the path to Riju’s throne wide open. Despite the early hour, she is already there, looking just as sleepy as the guards and fiddling with the ends of her braid. She perks up when she spots Link.

“Good morning!” she says. “What brings you here?”

Buliara, standing next to her, only nods briefly. Link takes a deep breath, gearing up to explain everything once more, and hoping very hard that this will be one of the last times.

As expected, Riju does take the news well. She probably has the largest army in all of Hyrule at her command, and once Link has outlined the situation, she immediately moves the discussion to a meeting room closer to the soldiers’ quarters while Buliara calls in Captain Teake. 

"So, have you finally decided to join our troops?" Teake asks when she enters. It's a joke that has been becoming less of one with each meeting; Link doubts it will survive this coming battle. She won't want anything to do with someone only pretending to be a Hylian vai when this is over.

Mournful thoughts aside, the discussion proceeds with an efficiency that makes Link suspect that the Gerudo already had their own plans to fight the Calamity, should it ever break free. Part of the Gerudo army will join Link in the castle, while the rest will stay behind to defend Gerudo Town just in case the Calamity escapes their grasp. It leads neatly into another point Link has been wanting to address.

“The Sheikah are worried that the Yiga will attack.”

The mention of the Yiga immediately gets everyone’s attention. Riju nods, putting a hand under her chin.

“We share their concern. Unfortunately, our relations with the Sheikah have never been as good as I would wish for, but we cannot take any risks.”

Understandable, when there is little to distinguish a Sheikah from an unmasked Yiga — Dorian is clear proof of that. Link still hopes it won’t lead to any problems when they face the Calamity.

“However,” Riju continues, “if you can vouch for them, I am happy to meet with a Sheikah representative to discuss this issue, both now and after the Calamity’s defeat.”

“And of course, our forces will keep an eye on the Yiga in the Highlands,” Teake adds, a vindictive gleam in her eyes. Link smiles, unseen. That should be more than enough to keep the Yiga in check for now. As for Riju’s suggestion… Paya would be a good candidate. She could enter Gerudo Town and communicate with the other Sheikah back in Kakariko Village. It should be enough to just accompany her on her first visit and introduce her to the guards and to Riju, so she doesn’t get arrested.

Despite the swiftness of the discussion, it still takes them until late afternoon to wrap everything up, mostly because the Gerudo have as many contingency plans as the Sheikah and Riju is eager to share every single one of them. When they finally make it outside again, Riju stretches her arms over her head and turns to Link, a satisfied smile on her face.

“I am glad that you came to us for aid. It will be our honor to fight with you.” 

They don’t have an exact schedule yet — while the Zora and Gerudo are always ready for battle, the Rito might need more time — and Link expects it will be another few weeks before they actually do face the Calamity. 

“Are you staying long?” Riju continues, undeterred by Link’s lack of reply. Link hums. Spending the night in Rito Village has become a precarious undertaking; the late-night hustle and bustle of Gerudo Town is a much more enticing prospect.

“Tonight. I’m heading to Tabantha tomorrow.”

Riju nods, turning her head up and basking in the afternoon sun. “Are you going to Isha now? I’ll join you.”

Isha’s jewelry might look like mere trinkets at first glance, but Link had quickly learned better. Last time, Zelda explained the damage Thunderblight Ganon had done to Urbosa, and the Zora are even more vulnerable to lightning than the Gerudo are. So while the jewels might not be enough to reduce the full impact of the Calamity’s lightning attacks, they might just mean the difference between life and death. 

They stroll through the marketplace together, Riju pausing occasionally to talk to people while Link waits patiently a few paces away. Buliara would normally accompany her on these trips outside the palace, Riju explains, but she seems to have deemed Link decent enough protection. As if Riju wouldn’t be able to take care of herself in a pinch.

If Isha is surprised by Riju’s presence, she doesn’t show it. She ushers them inside and into the shade, something Link is quietly grateful for. 

“Vasaaq,” Isha greets them. “Tell me, has anything caught your eye? Something for such lovely vai as yourselves, perhaps, or a gift for a sweetheart?”

Link blushes, looking away from the sapphire circlet on the pedestal in front of them. Even Riju looks momentarily flustered. She shakes her head.

“Link has come with a request,” she says. Isha tilts her head.

“Anything for such a loyal customer. What is it that you require?”

Link glances from the diamond circlet to the topaz earrings, deep in thought. The jewelry Isha makes is perfectly fine for any Gerudo to wear, and for a Hylian or Sheikah as well. But would it still work as well for the Zora or the Rito?

“I’ll need a lot,” Link says. “I have gems, but it’s for Zora. And Rito.”

Isha picks up a set of earrings, contemplative. “I have had requests of such nature in the past, though only rarely. It may take me some time to fine-tune my designs again,” she says. “Topaz for the Zora and sapphire for the Rito, I assume?”

“Topaz for the Zora,” Link says, “but diamond for the Rito.”

The Rito don’t do well with heat in general, but that shouldn’t be an issue when they’re out in Hyrule Field. No, the Guardians are the far bigger threat.

“Topaz for the Gerudo as well,” Riju adds. 

“I’m sure I can think of something,” Isha decides, placing the earrings back onto their cushion. “How many would you need?”

Link frowns; they have yet to decide on who exactly will be joining this battle. Fortunately, Riju is ready for the question.

“At least ten for the Gerudo,” she says, “and I imagine an equivalent number for the Zora, but less for the Rito.”

That sounds about right. Link nods and adds: “As strong as you can make them.”

“I believe I can use multiple gems… How many do you have?”

Not too many, at the moment. Link takes out the Sheikah Slate and pulls out the gems gathered within, hoping that the Gorons will be willing to mine for more.

Isha picks up a diamond and holds it against the light. “It’s pure, at least…” she mutters. “Yes, I can work with this, but I’ll need a few days to come up with a few good prototypes. It will not be cheap,” she warns. “Is that okay?”

Link has a hard time hiding a wince. Spending most nights with friends or in Hateno and foraging for food doesn't call for much money, so it’s never been a priority. Isha’s jewelry has always been a pricey expense. Undoubtedly, she won’t be happy going unpaid for her work. 

Luckily, Riju comes to the rescue: “The palace will cover it,” she says with a smile. “Consider it a small gesture of goodwill towards the people of Hyrule.”

Zelda will be delighted to hear that. Link smiles back and nods in thanks as Isha ushers them to the back of her shop to work out the details. It’s one more piece falling into place. One more layer of protection between the Calamity and the rest of Hyrule.

The Snowquill set provides a different kind of comfort than the Gerudo outfit does. Rito Village isn’t actually all that cold — barely colder than Hateno as long as the wind doesn’t come from the north — but something about the Hebra Mountains in the distance always calls for the cozy Rito clothes. 

Truly, it would make more sense to go to Death Mountain first: the sooner Isha and the Gorons get in touch, the better. But Isha will have her hands full designing her jewelry with the gems Link left her, and — if Zelda and Daruk’s explanations are true — the Gorons will not need to prepare for a battle. By contrast, there is no doubt that the Rito will join him. They will need all the practice and preparation they can get.

He intends to go straight to Kaneli’s roost, but when he passes by Harth’s workshop, he gets waylaid.

“Link,” Harth calls out in a low voice. The reason becomes clear when Link steps inside: Molli is still fast asleep, curled up in her hammock off to the side. “I’ve looked at the Great Eagle Bow for you. Do you want it back?”

Link shakes his head, sitting down cross-legged in front of him. “Not yet,” he says. He hesitates for a brief moment, then charges ahead. “I need it to be suitable for a Rito again.”

The Great Eagle Bow is, of course, a Rito bow to begin with, and even though Link likes using it, its grip has never quite fit him the way it would fit a Rito. But whenever he gives the bow to Harth for repairs, it always comes back a little more comfortable, a little more suited to the grip of a Hylian hand.

“Why?” Harth asks. If he’s surprised that Link has noticed the changes, he doesn’t let it show. “You know as well as I do that no Rito has been able to wield it since Master Revali did.”

“It’s for him. Revali,” Link says. 

“… I see,” Harth says, although he clearly doesn’t. He gets up, carefully stretching his left wing. “I do believe Teba and Saki ought to hear this.”

“Everyone should,” Link says. Harth pauses in the entrance of the roost, eyes boring into Link’s. 

“You’ll fight the Calamity,” he says. It’s not a question, but Link nods in reply anyway. Harth doesn’t seem surprised by this. He wonders how many people guessed what his goal was, when he went to visit them before he fought the Calamity for the very first time. Months ago for Link, but little more than a week for Harth.

“There’s more to it,” he says. “That’s why I need to talk to you.”

“Teba is still at the Flight Range,” Harth says, after a long moment of contemplation that has Link shifting uncomfortably. “I will fetch him. Could I bother you to keep an eye on Molli? Saki and Tulin are still asleep.”

Link agrees readily. Molli sleeps better in Harth’s workshop, Saki explained to him once. It’s a habit from when she was still a hatchling and couldn’t sleep anywhere that wasn’t near Harth, and they’ve never bothered changing it since. When Harth leaves, Link settles in more comfortably. It will be at least an hour before Teba and Harth return, possibly longer if Harth’s wing is still giving him trouble. 

Harth has left behind the Great Eagle Bow. Link picks it up, feeling the familiar weight and shape of it in his hands. He’s long intended to return the champions’ weapons, first to their people and then to the champions themselves once he learned that was an option. But admittedly, he’ll miss them. The Rito bows may not be fully suited to him, but they are more accurate and easier to handle than the ones he learned to shoot with. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s sat in contemplation, only that the sun has risen over the peaks and that Kass’ daughters have woken up. He can hear their singing float up through the village. Molli is still fast asleep and Link is scrolling through the Sheikah Slate, trying to decide on breakfast, when Saki strolls down and glances into the roost.

“Link?” she says, startled. “Where’s Harth?”

“Looking for Teba.” Link moves to the side, making room for Saki to enter. Saki grimaces.

“Oh, he should’ve woken me,” she says, sitting down so she faces the sleeping Molli. “What does he need Teba for?”

“I need to talk to you,” Link admits. Saki clicks her beak, gaze straying in what Link knows to be the direction of the castle. By Teba’s admission, the last time they talked, Harth already suspected that Link was the champion from a hundred years ago, and not his own descendant. No doubt he’s shared that suspicion with Saki too.

“Well, that can wait until they get back. Have you eaten?” Saki asks, no-nonsense. Link shakes his head, holding up the slate. 

“I was going to. Want some?”

“That would be appreciated, yes.” Saki smiles. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t really feeling up to cooking today. Let me just fetch Tulin, I’ll be right back.”

When Harth returns with Teba, Molli has woken up and is sleepily taking bites from the rice balls she’s chosen from the Sheikah Slate. Tulin is much more awake, and eager to learn more about Link’s adventures since the last time they met. It puts Link in a tough spot: so much has happened and almost none of it is appropriate for a child. He’s therefore happy for Teba and Harth’s return, even though it now means actually having to explain what’s going on.

By the time he makes it to Kaneli, just a short walk further up, it seems like the entire village already knows that something’s going on. Teba, Saki and Harth send Tulin and Molli away to play with the other kids before accompanying him up the stairs, and they’re joined only moments later by Kass, Amali, and then the rest of the village. It’s nothing like the private meetings he had with King Dorephan or Riju. Very few things stay a secret for long in Rito Village. Link braces himself for their reaction when they learn of the biggest secret he’s kept from them.

“You wished to talk to us?” Kaneli asks warmly. Link would have been happier about the warm greeting if he hadn’t waited until most of the village, even Mazli and Gesane, had made it to the top of Rito Village. He didn’t think Kaneli had such a flair for the dramatic.  

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Kass nod, and he takes comfort from it. Kass has always known exactly who he was and never treated him differently for it.

“I came for help,” he begins, skipping the formality required in Zora’s Domain or Gerudo Town. 

“As long as it is within our power, we are happy to, Champion Descendant,” Kaneli replies easily. Link winces at the term of address.

“I’m not…” he begins, which is when he catches Kaneli’s widening smile. Oh. 

Kaneli nods encouragingly, gesturing for him to go on. Link glances over his shoulder. There are some confused faces, sure, but not nearly as many as he expected.

“I am the Hylian Champion,” he explains, voice gaining strength. It’s not so much of a secret when half of the crowd already knows. “I… I was near death after the Calamity appeared. I slept for a century.”

Next to him, Saki shakes her head when Harth nudges her, expression triumphant. There are some gasps and whispers in the crowd, but no one sounds angry. No one is calling him a liar.

“Are you okay now?” Cecili shouts. Link nods, hiding his wince at her question. It isn’t Cecili’s fault that she’s the face he’s come to associate with the failure of yet another cycle.

“I woke up a year ago. Princess Zelda — the Hylian princess — is still in the castle.” 

“Are you going to fight the Calamity?” Gesane, this time. Link nods again.

“Yes.”

More muttering, though most of it sounds worried. Amali is having a hushed but fervent conversation with Kass that Link can’t quite make out. Kaneli raises a wing and the crowd falls silent.

“And this is why you need our help?”

Link nods once more, feeling like that’s all he’s doing. “The Zora and Gerudo will help as well.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Kaneli says. “You know we cannot spare many warriors, but we will be happy to support you. I do ask,” he continues, voice raised when several Rito immediately step up, “that we do not leave the village undefended.”

Mazli and Gesane shoot him a dark look. They turn to each other and, when neither of them are willing to back down, engage in a silent but brisk game of rock-paper-scissors that Mazli ultimately wins. 

“Gesane will remain here,” he says. Kaneli nods, satisfied. 

“I’m joining you,” Teba says, putting a warm wing on Link’s left shoulder. Link smiles, happy for the comfort. 

“And me, of course,” Harth says, but Teba and Saki protest as soon as he does.

“Your wing,” Teba points out. Harth glares — Link knows that it is an old discussion that he’s never been quite privy to.

“I’m perfectly capable of flying.”

“Flying to the Flight Range is nothing like flying to the castle,” Saki argues. Link decides not to mention that they wouldn’t need to fly to the castle anyway. He doesn’t want Harth in this fight either. The Guardians are fast and the Rito need to be faster.

“And then what? Link will only have Teba and Mazli to fight with him?”

“I’ll go,” Saki says in a voice that brokers no argument. Link turns to her, surprised. He’s not the only one. Saki folds her wings defensively and tosses her head back. “It may have been some time, but I assure you that I am still quite capable of wielding a bow.”

Link hadn't known that, especially given how vehemently opposed she's been to Tulin's training. Then again, no matter how quickly she'd handed them over to him, she did have bomb arrows on hand when Link first arrived in the village, back when Medoh was still terrorizing Tabantha. In hindsight, her distaste for them seems to be more about keeping explosives in her roost.

“So I am to remain stuck here and watch you both fight the Calamity?” Harth asks, voice rising. Link interrupts before this can escalate into a full-blown argument in front of the entire village. 

“Champion Revali is still alive!” he says, as loud as he can. It cuts through the burgeoning argument and leaves the village in stunned silence. 

“Master Revali?” Kaneli says at long last. Link nods.

“All the champions survived, but they are badly wounded,” he explains. “The princess will bring them back. She’ll need someone to take her to Vah Medoh.”

He looks at Harth. Harth’s expression is mutinous, but at least he doesn’t pick up the argument again.

“Is this why you asked me about the Great Eagle Bow?” he asks, voice low. 

“Yeah.”

“This is surprising news,” Kaneli says, “but I believe we would all be happy to meet the illustrious Master Revali in person. You have our support, of course. Teba, I will leave the details to you. Please report back to me.”

“Of course,” Teba says, looking a little shell-shocked. Link wonders how he’ll react to meeting the Great Master Revali he idolizes so much. How he reacted, in the cycle that resulted in Link’s death. Revali hadn’t shared many details with him, but he had spoken of the Rito with clear fondness.

It takes a long while for the gathered villagers to disperse, even when Amali handily steers their questions away from Link and leads part of them to the communal kitchen. Teba manages to get him out of Kaneli’s roost and into his own, along with Saki and Harth. They are joined by Kass.

“Will the Calamity spread its influence across Hyrule again?” he asks, clearly disturbed by the prospect. Of all the Rito, Kass probably has the best idea of the destruction the Calamity wrought, but it doesn’t take a historian to know. One look at the ruined village of Tabantha to the east would tell any Rito enough.

Link grimaces, toying with the Sheikah Slate. He wants to keep the knowledge of the cycle he’s trapped in limited to just a small number of people, but he does not think he can explain the full scope of this battle to them otherwise.

“Without Zelda, the Calamity can call the Guardians,” he says, and continues into his tale of the last few months. They listen with steadily mounting horror. By the end of it, Kass looks deeply sad, Teba and Harth disturbed, and Saki outright angry. 

“You never should have been forced through this,” she states. Link shrugs. What use is anger when it won’t change anything? Besides, it’s almost over now. It has to be.

“Do you have a plan to keep people away from the castle?” Kass asks. Link hadn’t taken that into account — or rather, he’d hoped people would be smart enough to stay away. When he shakes his head, Kass nods decisively.

“I will spread word through the stable network. Don’t worry,” he says when he sees Link’s dubious look. “I will not tell them about your plans. A few well-placed rumors can go a long way. If they believe the Calamity’s return is imminent, they will not go near the castle.”

“You should talk to the Sheikah,” Link declares. “In Kakariko Village. They travel fast.”

“I know them,” Kass says. Of course he would — his teacher was one of the Sheikah. He gets up. “I should talk to Amali and say goodbye to my daughters. At least it won’t be for long, this time…” he sighs and shakes his head. Link feels a momentary flash of guilt. It hasn’t even been that long since Kass got to return to Rito Village for good. 

“We’ll help Amali with the kids,” Teba assures him. Kass gives them his thanks and leaves them be, heading down to his own roost.

“Are you needed elsewhere today?” Saki asks. Link shakes his head. The Gorons will still be on Death Mountain tomorrow and there’s a lot he still needs to explain. 

“Good, then stay for dinner.” 

It’s not even lunchtime yet, but Link readily acquiesces. As long as he has other people around him, he won’t get distracted by the thought of waking up in Rito Village again and again for the rest of his days.

He isn't sure how to explain to the Rito why he's so eager to leave, when the sun fades below the horizon, but spending the night here isn't an option anymore. Fortunately, not all of Tabantha is off-limits. Not even all of Lake Totori. He debates returning to Hateno once he says his goodbyes to Teba, Saki, Harth and the kids, but the lure of Vah Medoh’s spire is stronger.

“Now I finally understand why you care to visit Vah Medoh so often,” Kaneli says mildly when Link readies Gale. “Do tell Master Revali we look forward to meeting him in person.”

Link ducks his head, blushing. He has always started his climb up to Vah Medoh from the highest point of the village, and never quite realized that Kaneli saw every instance of that. He doesn’t know how to tell him that he’s been making this climb since long before he knew Revali and the other champions were still alive, so he calls upon Gale before the embarrassment becomes too much. “Coming up!” he shouts, reaching out for the long-familiar handholds.

The climb is meditative, and Revali is waiting for him by the end of it. “Slower than last time,” he huffs. Link grins.

“Obviously.” No matter how fast he climbs, he’ll never beat out the Sheikah Slate.

“That one doesn’t count,” Revali says, stepping aside so Link can get up on the spire. “It’s late. Why are you here?”

Link sits down cross-legged and searches the Sheikah Slate for something to drink. How much did he explain to this Revali? How much did Zelda?

“When time repeats, I wake up in the village. Every time. I can’t sleep there anymore.” He swallows. Revali, taking this in, almost looks upset. 

“You have a house,” he says. Link shrugs. He doesn’t want to go to Hateno. He doesn’t want to be alone in a village full of people who know nothing at all. Instead, he takes out wood and flint and sets to making a fire, far enough from Medoh that Revali can’t find fault with it. Revali looks on, baffled.

“You’re sure?” he asks when Link is breathing life in the embers. Link nods and, satisfied that the small flames will grow bigger on their own, straightens up again. He’s slept here before. The Snowquill Set is more than sufficient to keep him warm out in the open. And he misses those two months where he didn’t have to worry about waking up in the Swallow’s Roost. Perhaps this is just his way of recapturing a little bit of that before life moves on again.

There’s some carp still in the Sheikah Slate, the kind only found in Kakariko Village. Link has never been quite sure whether he’s even allowed to catch it, but no one’s ever said anything. Revali looks on enviously as he starts staking the fish.

“Did you eat, last time?” Link asks. It sounded like an innocent enough question in his head, given how the Rito are always eager to get him to cook with them, but Revali cringes, shrinking in on himself. 

“Not much.”

He clearly doesn’t want to elaborate. Link gestures for Revali to sit down and Revali does so, leaning towards the fire even though he cannot feel the heat. 

“They will help you, I assume?” he asks. Link smiles, still just this side of wry.

“Was there ever any doubt?”

Revali snorts softly in agreement, sitting back. “Who?”

“Teba and Saki, and Mazli.” Three Rito — four, once Revali joins them — against an army of Guardians. Compared to the Gerudo and Zora, it can barely be called support. There are so very few Rito left. It’s a sore point for Revali in particular: From what Link has gathered, not only did Rito Village used to be bigger than its current state, but the Rito also had smaller settlements throughout the Hebra Mountains. All gone now, only preserved in a few place names here and there. The present-day Rito barely even remember their existence.

“Not Harth? Good.” Revali fidgets, left wing drawing closer around his body. “Did you give him my bow?”

Link nods. “He’s not happy about it. Not fighting, I mean.”

“Well, of course he wouldn’t be.” Revali says, staring intently at the fire. “But he’s their bowyer, and he has no apprentice yet. You can’t have a village without a bowyer.”

His words are tinged with a kind of melancholy that speaks of long-ago memories. Link turns his carp around, resisting the urge to fidget. He had assumed that the news of the Rito’s support would make Revali happy, but while he did express satisfaction, there’s something in his expression, something Link can’t even place… 

Uncertainty. It looks utterly foreign on Revali’s face. It took him far too long to realize that Revali covered up his insecurities with anger. Seeing them laid out so blatantly is novel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shifting to the other side of the fire so they’re sitting side by side, a facsimile of touch. Revali glances at him from the corner of his eyes, wings flexing. 

“Nothing you ought to concern yourself with. You have bigger things ahead.”

Link raises his eyebrows, remaining expectantly silent. If Revali thinks he can out-stubborn him… Well, they’ve never actually put that to the test. But Link has all night. He can wait.

Fortunately, Revali caves soon enough, letting out a scoff and staring up at the steadily darkening sky. 

“I will come to them as Master Revali,” he says. His mocking tone is an overly familiar one, the one Revali has always used for the Hero name that has chased Link for so long. “Beyond this battle, what care should they have for me, when I could not even fulfill my one goal and let Rito Village fall to danger?”

Link frowns. “You said they were kind to you,” he points out. What should the Rito care about something none of them were alive for?

“I was… not at my best, perhaps,” Revali says. “It is easy to show kindness borne from pity, is it not?”

Link’s frown deepens. “They won’t care,” he says, shaking his head and wishing Revali would look at him again. “I told them who I was. They didn’t care.”

He’d thought for the longest time that the Rito — Kass aside — had remained blissfully unaware of his true identity. And while his revelation may have come as a shock to some of the Rito he isn’t quite as close to, plenty of them hadn’t been surprised at all. Why would they blame Revali when his own crimes are so much greater by comparison?

Revali finally looks down, chuckling. “Of course they wouldn’t. I suppose we’ve never been very good at doing what was expected of us.” 

He’s talking about the Rito, of course. But he’s looking at Link, and Link thinks they finally, finally understand each other now. 

“No, we haven’t been.”

He only leaves Vah Medoh’s spire after breakfast, which he spent cheerfully ignoring Revali’s suggestions about what would and wouldn’t make a good meal. They may be evenly matched in a fight — and he looks forward to putting that to the test very soon — but Link is quite certain that between the two of them, he’s the better cook. Maybe he should issue a counter-challenge.

Still smiling over that thought, he warps to the shrine just outside Goron City and immediately regrets it. One day, he'll learn not to go straight from Hebra province to Death Mountain. Maybe he'll remember to detour via a climate somewhere between the two extremes, and give himself some time to adjust to being out of the freezing Hebra winds before he has to acclimatize to the searing volcanic heat. But today clearly isn't that day. Link hops from one foot to the other, hot air burning what little of his face is exposed through the armor. He likes the Gorons. He just isn't fond of their volcano. 

So between his tarrying in Tabantha, and the delay caused by acclimatizing to the scorching heat, it is already mid-morning when he takes the winding path down from the shrine to Goron City. The later hour means that the city is rife with activity. While he isn’t a frequent visitor, exactly, he’s not so rare a sight that his presence comes as a surprise. He tries to look for Yunobo, but he’s nowhere to be found. Bludo, then, even though he would much rather have talked to Yunobo first.

“Yunobo? Saw him go up the mountain this morning, he should be back any moment now!” Bludo tells him when Link asks about it. He’s alone in his house, affording Link the privacy that was entirely lacking in Rito Village. “What’d you need him for, brother?”

Link considers going out to Death Mountain and meeting him halfway, or waiting for him to return; he really would prefer to have this conversation with Yunobo around. But the heat is already turning his skin tacky with sweat and grime, and the knowledge of Daruk’s survival burns his tongue. Better to get it over with now. 

“I bring news,” he says with a formality that is entirely foreign to the Gorons. Already, Bludo raises his thick eyebrows. “And a request.”

“Go ahead then,” Bludo says, groaning as he lowers himself into his chair. Link remains standing. He wants to look him in the eye, at least. 

“Champion Daruk is still alive,” he says. The last time he’ll have to bring this news. He hopes. “He can be saved.”

“Excellent news, that!” Bludo crows. “Where is he? Stuck in that great big lizard?”

Link nods. Even with Vah Rudania calmed down, Bludo’s never really been a fan of it. 

“Well, I’m sure I can grab some people to drag him out of there! Won’t be me, my back’s killing me,” he tries to twist in his chair to alleviate some of the ache, face contorting, “but good on you for asking our help with that, brother. We Gorons are heavy folk.”

“Ah, that’s not it.” Link smiles, more at ease now. “The princess will save Daruk. I’ll need to fight the Calamity, so—”

“The Calamity?” Bludo interrupts, frowning again. He doesn’t even remark on Link’s mention of Zelda. “You sure about that? You did great against Vah Rudania, buddy, but you shouldn’t be fighting every monster in sight. That’s no good for someone as little as you.”

Much like the Rito, the Gorons either don’t know Link is the Hylian champion or are doing a commendable job of completely ignoring that fact. Link shrugs. “I’ve got help,” he says, “but I need yours too.”

“To fight the Calamity?” Like Daruk warned him, Bludo’s earlier enthusiasm vanishes like snow on Death Mountain. “We’re mining folk, little guy. I wouldn’t mind seeing how it fares against my cannons if it shows its ugly face here, but I’m not risking my workers like that. ‘sides from the guards, we haven’t had anyone going around fighting monsters since Lord Daruk himself, and that’s just some Lizalfos.”

Link quickly shakes his head. “I have help already. I need gems. For—” From the Sheikah Slate, he draws out a pair of amber earrings he bought on a whim once and wears every so often. They’re pretty enough and give him that little edge when he doesn’t feel like wearing too much armor. 

“Never understood what you Hylians like those gems so much for,” Bludo says, shaking his head. “But you need them, you say? Fine by me, there’s nothing we can do with them anyway and they keep taking up space. I can’t keep sending them off with Kairo. Just amber?”

“And topaz, and diamond,” Link says. “Anything’s fine, though.” He can sell any other gems just in case Riju’s goodwill doesn’t extend to an entire army, however unlikely that is. 

“I’ll get some of my people on it! When do you need them?”

“As soon as possible.” Link stashes the earrings away. All in all, despite the looming threat of the Calamity, this feels a lot more like a business transaction than the emotionally fraught conversations with the other people around Hyrule. No endless discussions here about who to send into a battle they might not survive. Link needs the gems, the Gorons are more than happy to be rid of them, and everyone leaves satisfied in the end. 

He knows how upset Zelda was that the Gorons refused to fight with him. He knows how guilty Daruk felt about it. But the part of him that’s still unwilling to have anyone fight for him is relieved. Here on Death Mountain, the Gorons will be fine.

He leaves Bludo’s house feeling more settled than he has in a long time. He’s told everyone who needs to know. No one has blamed him, or shouted recriminations at him. And even though far more people are ready to fight the Calamity than he would have liked, at least Daruk’s predictions have proven true and the Gorons feel no need to join the battle. It’s probably the best he could have hoped for.

He rounds the corner and almost runs straight into Yunobo.

Yunobo doesn’t look at all surprised to see him, and, judging from his proximity to Bludo’s house, has probably been waiting for him. Link’s suspicions are confirmed when Yunobo speaks.

“Fugo said you were here,” he says, not quite meeting Link’s eyes. “… I heard you talking.”

Well, that at least negates the need to repeat the whole story again, something Link is eminently grateful for. He looks at the busy city below and then back at the path. Yunobo follows his gaze and nods at his unspoken request, following Link to the bridge at the city’s entrance. Yunobo once told him that Rudania was easily visible from up here, and he’s not wrong. Rudania is still perched where it always is, balanced precariously on the crater of Death Mountain. He wonders if Daruk can see them all the way down here. Probably not. He would have mentioned it if he could.

“You’re really fighting it, aren’t you?” Yunobo asks, staring up at Rudania as well. 

“Yeah,” Link replies. Yunobo looks visibly concerned.

“Will you be fine?”

Link shrugs. He’s underestimated the Calamity once before. The presence of his allies should make the fight easier, but the prospect is still daunting. He’s used to having space to fight. He hasn’t fought as part of a group in a very, very long time.

“You didn’t ask us to help you fight it,” Yunobo says, eyes searching. He’s always been more perceptive than most people give him credit for.

“Well, would you want to?” Link asks. He had expected instant refusal, much like Bludo, but Yunobo hesitates, staring up at the statue of Daruk towering over them.

“… No,” he says at long last. “I’d just freeze up. I have no idea how you do it, it terrifies me.”

It used to terrify him too. Now the Calamity, mindless and predictable as it is, is a far less horrifying prospect than time turning back on itself endlessly.

“People think I was the one who calmed down Rudania,” Yunobo continues. “I keep telling them it was you, but they never believe it. ‘Finally remembered who you’re descended from!’” he quotes, laughing bitterly. “He’d be so disappointed.”

“He isn’t,” Link states with conviction. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, even if Yunobo doesn’t remember it. “He just wants you to be happy.”

“How can you be sure?” Yunobo asks. Link looks up at Vah Rudania meaningfully.

“He told me.”

“Maybe when you’re not going out there fighting the Calamity, but… but what if something happens to you? You’re his friend, aren’t you?” Yunobo swallows. “You said he was still alive. How am I going to face him?”

Ah, so he overheard that part too. Link would have preferred to tell him in person. He wishes Daruk were here instead. However intimidating Yunobo thinks he is, surely that impression wouldn’t last when faced with Daruk’s sincerity. Daruk has always been entirely open about his thoughts and feelings in a way that Link deeply envies.

“He doesn’t care,” Link tells him. Yunobo frowns, eyes gaining that searching look again. Link glances at the edge of the bridge, but no one is nearby. “… He’s told me. This isn’t the first time.”

“What do you mean?” Yunobo asks. Link takes a breath. The group of people who know is ever-expanding, but he thinks Yunobo deserves to be part of it. No matter what he may believe, he was instrumental in defeating Ganon’s Blight and calming down Vah Rudania.

His explanation of the cycle he and Zelda — and now the champions as well — are caught in doesn’t take him very long anymore, but by the end of it, Yunobo is left gobsmacked.

“You’ve really fought it so many times?” he whispers. Link nods, shrugging one shoulder. He’s wisely kept his own death a secret. It would only scare Yunobo even more.

“I’m sorry…” Yunobo continues. “I really wish we could be of more help, but—” he looks up at Daruk’s towering statue. Link shakes his head.

“The gems are all I need.” That, and the guarantee that at least some people will remain safe. Yunobo grimaces.

“If you’re really sure,” he says. But he doesn’t look convinced at all.

“They’re helping.”

Link leans back, staring up at the sky and trying to catch a glimpse of blue through Ganon’s malice. He doesn’t succeed, nor did he really expect to. The walkway up to the Castle Sanctum is still clear of Guardians after Link went through them last week and, despite the oppressive malice, the temperature is actually quite comfortable. 

They all agreed? Zelda asks. Link nods, and, upon realizing again that Zelda can’t see him, says: “Yes.” 

I’m glad, Zelda says. She sounds like it too. Part of it is probably relief that Link went through with their plan, and that still rankles. He’ll fight Ganon and he’ll have much of Hyrule by his side when he does.

What’s next?

He came here after talking to Yunobo and a quick visit to Daruk, unwilling to linger in the heat of Death Mountain for much longer. He’s carrying with him all the gems the Gorons were happy to be rid of and he’ll be dropping them off with Isha once he leaves the castle. 

  “We’re meeting in Kakariko Village tomorrow,” Link says. A strategy meeting with representatives of each group. It’s all he has badges for at the moment, even though Robbie is hard at work making new ones.

Do you need a Blood Moon?

“Yes, please,” Link replies. Now that he has an actual idea of who will be joining the fight, he’ll need a lot more Guardian parts.

Tomorrow night, then, Zelda decides, and Link lies flat on the stone walkway, letting time pass him by as he tells Zelda about the past few days.

“Harth is still upset,” Teba confides in Link, adjusting the beads Riju has just handed him. They’re a prototype, something more suited to a Rito than Isha’s usual wares. When Link went to drop off the gems, Isha had roped in Frita and both were having the time of their lives testing out new ideas. The beads don’t quite have the same power as her diadems, but the issue is easily resolved by adding in more.

Teba shakes his head, testing the beads’ fit. He nods, satisfied, and then says, for Riju’s benefit: “One of my partners. He sustained an injury a while ago that is preventing him from joining the battle.”

The main introductions have already taken place, and now Purah and Robbie have gone off with Impa to reconnect after years of only speaking to each other through letters. Sidon is sitting off to the side, patiently waiting his turn to try on the jewelry that Isha has created for the Zora. It doesn’t look quite as polished as the Rito version yet — Isha had lamented the lack of Zora in Gerudo Town. Bludo, whose back had only gotten worse after spending a full day giving out instructions to the Gorons, has sent Yunobo in his place with a report that the boy is now clutching tightly, taking in the sights of Kakariko with wide eyes.

“How many of you shall be joining the fight?” Riju inquires. 

“Three. Four, once Master Revali joins us,” Teba replies. Riju frowns at that, meeting Link’s eyes with concern written all over her face. Teba spots it too. He grimaces.

“It cannot be helped, I’m afraid. Rito Village is not big and we cannot leave the place entirely undefended.”

“I understand,” Riju says. “You are to keep an eye on Hyrule Field, correct?”

Link and Teba both nod. Most of the shafts Link has been collecting will go towards Ancient Arrows for the Rito. Robbie had offered them Ancient Bows too but, in a reaction that reminded Link entirely too much of Revali, Teba had refused them. They were used to shooting with their own Falcon Bows, he’d said. They did not intend to use a slower bow, no matter how straight it could shoot. 

“The Gerudo can spare a few soldiers to strengthen your numbers,” Riju says decisively. Link tilts his head. That will mean more diamonds for Isha, something that’s already hard to come by. Ancient Shields too, since the Gerudo can’t take to the air to escape the Guardians. But admittedly, the thought of the Rito not being all alone out there is a relief.  

“We appreciate it, chief,” Teba says with a half-smile. There’s something pained about his expression that Link recognizes as the same look Teba gave him when he first told him about his real age. Riju is by far the youngest person here in the room, saddled with a responsibility that is far too big for her shoulders alone.

“Let’s talk it over in a moment,” Sidon says, getting up. “I have some ideas about the Zora’s involvement as well, and I am eager to hear your thoughts.”

That seems to be the sign for everyone to join Impa in the main room. Link is quietly glad that Yunobo came instead of Bludo, since that means everyone in the room already knows about the cycle they’ve been living through. Yunobo is silent throughout most of the process, only getting involved when Riju addresses him directly to discuss the exchange of gems. The longer they talk, the more he seems to draw in on himself, face quietly concerned. Link wishes he had a way to break him out of it, but he doesn’t know the right words. 

The discussions don’t lead to any big changes in the strategy Link already developed last time; their main purpose is for everyone to get to know each other in advance. Just about the only significant change is one Robbie presents, to Link’s surprise: Jerrin and Granté have asked to join the Rito on Central Tower and make the arrows they need while the fight is on-going.

It’s a good idea, all things considered, even if Jerrin and Granté don’t have the experience of any of the other combatants. As long as they remain in Central Tower, they should be safe from all but the Skywatchers. Having a steady supply of weapons that doesn’t rely on Zelda and the Sheikah Slate will be a big advantage, so Link reluctantly agrees to it.

Hyrule is preparing for a final showdown with the Calamity: the Gerudo and Zora drills are taking up most of their days, according to Riju and Sidon, and instead of Teba, it is now Saki who spends most of her time in the Flight Range. She has a lot to catch up on, Teba confides. Ever since Tulin’s hatching and later Molli’s, archery hasn’t been much of a priority for her. 

Having everyone here also means he can introduce Paya and Riju to each other. Paya has looked intimidated by the crowd ever since Link brought them here, and even tiny Riju seems to evoke a sense of awe in her. Riju herself had been initially uncomfortable in a village full of Sheikah, but Link’s word was enough for her, and she is quite happy to accept Paya as a representative of the Sheikah. 

That’s one more problem out of the way. Now, Riju is in deep conversation with Yunobo, Sidon is engaged in a lively discussion with Paya and Purah, and Robbie is explaining the workings of an Ancient Arrow to Teba. He’s never had so many of his friends in one place. It feels more comfortable than he’d expected. He’s glad to see them getting along.

“Even with the champions, the king never quite managed to gather support from all of Hyrule,” Impa says, lowering herself carefully onto a cushion. Link bends down to help, but she waves him off. “You have come a long way, Link. I am certain that the princess will be satisfied as well.”

The Blood Moon comes and goes, and Link sets out to collect more Guardian parts, this time with Robbie in tow. He had been immediately familiar with the secret entrance to the castle that Impa had mentioned, and all too eager to show it off. 

“Not surprising you didn’t find it, frankly,” he says, circling the pillars of the Sacred Grounds and pressing spots seemingly at random. “It’s a lot harder to get into from the outside. Don’t want any invading forces finding a direct entrance into the castle, y’know?”

As he says it, the water drains from around the platform, leaving only an innocent-looking stone slab.

“Help me move this, will you? My back isn’t what it used to be.”

Link doesn’t bother putting his own back at risk. Instead, he unsheathes his sword and sends the slab flying with the stasis rune. Robbie watches it with open interest.

“How much weight can that handle, you think?” he asks. Link shrugs. Somewhere between a pebble and a mountain.

“Plenty of time to figure that out later. Come on,” Robbie says. Where the slab had been, a small stairway has been revealed. Link lights a torch and follows Robbie down.

“It used to be inaccessible for some time,” Robbie tells him while they follow the tunnel north. “Collapsed not long after we escaped, and the Guardians were a lot more active in those days, so it took me a few decades before I could clear it out. The arrows were a lifesaver, lemme tell you. Some of my best work.”

They’ve certainly saved his life more than once. Robbie’s Ancient Arrows are one of his favorite ways of getting rid of Guardians. 

It’s obvious where the tunnel has collapsed in the past, but Robbie’s repair works have held up and indeed, far faster than Link could usually make the trip even with the paraglider, they emerge in the Guard’s Chamber. It is an elegant solution to get the Gerudo to Hyrule Field quickly. How he’s going to get here when he still isn’t entirely sure where exactly the Astral Observatory is located, is another matter, and one he’ll have to figure out on the fly.

The secret entrance to the castle isn’t the only reason Link asked Robbie to come along. When they emerge outside again, Link points out the towering pillars surrounding the castle. Robbie grimaces.

“Purah mentioned,” he says, “and we did go through the Sheikah Slate for a way to stop them from activating, but we didn’t find anything. Maybe if we could borrow it off you for a few days…”

But Link needs the Sheikah Slate more than ever now, with all of Hyrule relying on him for news, and he doesn’t want to risk anything happening to it this close to the battle. Robbie accurately recognizes his expression. He shakes his head.

“I wish I had better news for you, but I’ve never seen anything make a dent in those. You’d think, with all the Guardians around here…” 

Yeah, enough shots have gone astray for Link to know that even the Guardians’ power has no effect on these pillars. They’ll just have to defeat Ganon quickly and hope that the Rito and Gerudo on Hyrule Field are smart enough to get out when it becomes too much. He can only destroy the Guardians in the castle once more and hope it provides them with enough ammunition to stand a chance.

Link had expected Robbie’s presence to be a hindrance, but he clearly knows the castle as well as Link himself does, and fighting the Guardians goes as it always does: hard at first, and then progressively easier the more of them he destroys. By late afternoon, Robbie has a whole other set of Guardian parts to work with, and they take a break at Wetlands Stable where they run into Kass.

“The stable network is spreading the word,” he tells them while Link and Robbie start on their late lunch. He lowers his voice. “I admit, I worry about these Blood Moons. You don’t think the Calamity is aware of your plans, do you?”

Link shakes his head, swallowing around a bite of mushrooms before replying. “It’s Zelda, not the Calamity,” he says, and gestures at Robbie. “We need the parts.”

For a moment, Kass looks uncomprehending. Then understanding dawns. “Oh! I see, that’s quite clever of you. Will you have enough, do you think?”

Link looks at Robbie, who makes a doubtful noise. “Could always use some more!” he says. “Wouldn’t mind having another Blood Moon or two, if the princess can pull it off.”

Since the Blood Moons are Zelda’s version of getting a break, Link is sure she won’t mind. “I’ll ask,” he promises. 

“Then if you drop me off, I’ll get started with today’s haul!” Robbie says. “I’ve got some stuff at home for you to spread around. I’m pretty sure we’re good on badges now.”

Sounds good to Link. He’s got a meeting with Bludo scheduled for the next day, and Isha soon after. She has promised a new jewelry prototype for the Zora, which Sidon has been eagerly looking forward to. And Teba has been asking for more arrows to practice with. Another week, he thinks, or maybe two. Then everyone will be ready.

Blood Moon?

“Yes, please.”

Time passes, at once too slow and too fast. There is only so long they can wait before putting their plans into motion, and so, almost four weeks after Link woke up in the Swallow’s Roost for what he hopes was the last time, Robbie has made enough weapons and Isha has made enough jewelry to supply everyone who will join the fight. They’re prepared, he thinks. Everyone has trained hard. Kass has done an admirable job of warning all bystanders away from the castle, so much so that the stables adjacent to Hyrule Field have seen far fewer visitors lately. 

But he’s jittery and he sees those same jitters reflected in the champions. Two days before their planned attack, Revali moves Medoh from its perch back to the flat plain next to Hebra Plunge, where even Harth will be able to take Zelda, Purah and Robbie. He once more refuses the Great Eagle Bow, citing the icy temperatures as his reason. The bow will be safer in the Sheikah Slate, where Zelda will be able to find it.

Daruk is of the same idea. “I’ll get it back soon!” he says, shaking his head when Link tries to hand him the Boulder Breaker. “Don’t you worry, little guy. We know what to do. We’ll be by your side.” 

He smiles, eyes crinkling like he’s thinking of a joke only he understands. The Gorons have been indispensable, and when he met with Yunobo earlier, the boy finally looked a little more settled than he had these last few weeks. No doubt the knowledge that their part of the fight is now over was enough to calm his nerves. 

Mipha refuses her Lightscale Trident as well, but for wholly different reasons.

“There will be no role for me in this fight,” she explains when Link offers, more out of courtesy now. She’s not wrong: Mipha will be the last champion to be revived. When she makes it to the battlefield, Zelda will be by her side, ready to seal away the Calamity for good. “You should give it to Sidon.”

“You’re sure?” Link asks, putting the trident away. 

“Yes. Sidon will know how to use it.” She reaches out, hands hovering over his. “It would make me feel better to know that he has a powerful weapon on him.”

It would make Link feel better too. As far as King Dorephan knows, Sidon will still remain behind, but it should be easy enough to give him the trident.

The last champion he visits is Urbosa, and he doesn’t go alone. The night before their planned attack, he takes Purah and Robbie to Vah Naboris. They are quite handy at setting up the device that will bring back the champions, but it still takes time. Zelda will come here directly once Link hands her the Sheikah Slate. Setting up the device now should save her several crucial minutes tomorrow.

“You have given Chief Riju the Thunder Helm, have you not?” Urbosa asks Link as they watch Purah and Robbie flit around Naboris’ main console. Link nods. Riju had taken the helm from him with wry acceptance. It is — still — too big for her, but it will protect those around her better than Isha’s jewelry can.

“I do not fully agree with her joining this battle,” Urbosa continues, “but I understand. As chief, I could not bear letting my people fight alone either.”

She would get along swimmingly with Buliara, who had also protested Riju’s presence on the battlefield. Paya and the Sheikah will be at the ready to take people away from the fight, should it prove necessary. Link keeps that in mind whenever doubt strikes.

“Just a little longer,” Urbosa says, clearly reading the reluctance on his face. It’s what Link clings to when he takes Purah and Robbie back to Hateno. They will spend the night at Purah’s lab, and Link will spend it in his own house. Just a little bit longer, and he, and Zelda, and everyone else, finally get to be free.

Chapter Text

Link doesn’t sleep, nor did he truly expect to. There are too many thoughts running through his head: battle plans, ways to evacuate the wounded, escape routes in case it all goes horribly wrong. Despite his army training, despite the plans they’ve painstakingly developed, he’s never had to lead so many people before. He doesn’t like it. He never wants to do it again.

He gets out of bed long before the sun has risen, far too anxious to even attempt any further rest. Were it up to him, he would have headed to the castle as soon as the risk for Stal monsters had abated. That isn’t an option today. Too many people, too many pieces to move around. The battle won’t start until late in the morning. And here Link is, in his garden at three, munching an apple and watching the early glow of the sun above the mountain. 

Today could be Hyrule’s greatest triumph, or its greatest tragedy. And they might never have the chance to change it again.

Link tosses the core of his apple off into the grass and gets up, struck by the sudden urge to just move. If he knows Purah at all — and he thinks he knows her pretty well by now — she won’t care about the early hour.

He’s proven right when Purah is drawn outside by the blue flash of his arrival. 

“Took you long enough!” she says. There’s a manic light in her eyes even beyond the excitement he’s used to seeing from her. Behind her, he spots the other Sheikah, as well as Jerrin and Granté. He hopes they got some sleep, or that the lack of it won’t impair their abilities.

“Come on in!” Robbie calls. “Help me pack up Cherry!”

Link hasn’t yet found an upper limit to what the Sheikah Slate can transport, and Cherry fits in easily. Jerrin and Granté should have more than enough time to get her up and running before the actual battle begins. It is only a matter of minutes before they are ready to depart. Symin, forced to stay behind, isn’t happy about it.

“Lady Purah, let me join you,” he argues. “I can help.”

Link doesn’t doubt that, but Purah dismisses the offer out of hand. 

“One of us must stay here. You know that,” she says. 

“Then let me go in your stead! Or,” Symin gestures at Jerrin and Granté, “I could be of help on the battlefield.”

“And lose all of our knowledge if something goes wrong?” No.” Purah peers up at him, voice laden with the weight of her true age. “We lost so much when the Calamity first arose. What little knowledge we preserved was only possible because we fled to different parts of the land... And because we took apprentices, and passed on what we knew. If today goes wrong, you must take my research, and Robbie's, and flee; cross the ocean, if you must. We cannot lose this again.”

Robbie nods in agreement and Link finds himself nodding as well. Without Purah, without Robbie, he doesn’t know if they ever would have made it this far. The knowledge that the Sheikah possess is invaluable and must be preserved.

Symin clearly still doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t protest when Link takes out the Sheikah Slate. Their first stop is Central Tower, where Jerrin, Granté and Robbie are quick to connect Cherry to the Guidance Stone.

“It won’t hold for long,” Robbie mutters, fiddling with the machine. “But it’ll give you enough energy for a few hours. Try not to ruin her, okay?”

Jerrin says nothing to that, side-eyeing the machine. Granté, clearly used to this old argument, checks the final few connections before declaring everything operational. It’s a sign for Robbie and Purah to go to Vah Naboris with Link, something Robbie is clearly reluctant to do.

“You’ve got the shields?” he asks Jerrin, reaching out to her. Jerrin links their hands together, nodding.

“We’ve got them. We’ll be fine.”

“Be careful, okay?” Robbie says. Jerrin leans closer and Link turns away, unable to witness their farewells when the guilt is digging its claws into his stomach. If things go wrong…

“They know what they signed up for,” Purah mutters, coming to stand at his side. “They’ve always known. Don’t think so highly of yourself, you couldn’t force us to do anything we didn’t want to do.”

Link has no good reply for that, and he’s all too eager to take Robbie and Purah to Vah Naboris once Robbie has said his goodbyes. 

Urbosa is there, looking not at the castle, but at Gerudo Town in the distance. She greets Purah and Robbie cordially and gives Link a long look while he readies himself to head to Rito Village.

“I will see you again soon,” she says. “I look forward to fighting the Calamity with you.”

“Me too,” says Link, and finds, to his own surprise, that it is only half a lie. He does not remember fighting alongside Urbosa. He will enjoy seeing her in action.

The sun has well and truly risen by the time he gets to Rito Village. In an ordinary cycle, this would be the point where he entered the castle to make his way up to the Sanctum or, alternatively, warp straight there if he’d thought to put down the Travel Medallion. 

Not today. Today Teba, Saki and Mazli meet him as soon as he appears. All three Rito are wearing the diamond beads Isha made in place of their traditional ornaments; Saki's braids hang loose, and her feathers are bound back in stark contrast to her usual appearance. Their Falcon Bows look quite a bit more reinforced than those Link likes to use himself. Harth's work, no doubt.

Harth, who is conspicuously absent.

He’d expected him to be here, and the children as well, if only to see Teba and Saki off safely. It will be several more hours before Zelda will arrive at Vah Medoh.

When Link asks, Teba and Saki both grimace. 

“The kids are staying with Amali,” Saki explains. That’s probably for the best. He doesn’t know exactly how much the Rito fledglings know of the danger their parents will be in. 

“And Harth has left already,” Teba adds. “He insisted on flying to Vah Medoh.”

A trek through some of the coldest parts this side of Hebra Peak. No wonder Teba isn’t happy. And no wonder Harth insisted.

“I would have taken him there,” Link says. He’d planned on it, even. Within the Sheikah Slate, one more set of diamond beads remains, meant for Revali. He’d wanted to take the beads to Vah Medoh himself, and now feels unusually disconcerted that he doesn’t get to go.

Teba shakes his head, a wry twist to his beak.

“It feels unfair, sometimes,” he murmurs when they cluster around Link. “I was shot just as grievously, and yet I have made a full recovery, with merely a few scars left.”

Saki sighs. Link silently agrees. Yes, Teba could barely move after being shot in the leg, but a leg heals more easily than a wing. Such a little thing, and yet it can make all the difference. Link survived, even if it cost him almost all of his memories. The champions survived, even if it cost them a century of their lives. So many in Hyrule weren’t so lucky.

He takes out the Sheikah Slate, hoping with all his heart that their luck will hold today.

They emerge on Central Tower, where the Rito quickly take up guard. It should be quite some time before they actually have to take to the air. The field is empty — Link made sure of it yesterday. 

“Be careful,” Saki impresses upon him when he hands her the beads for Revali. Link nods.

“You too.”

“We’ll see you soon,” Teba says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just focus on the Calamity, and leave the rest to us.”

Easier said than done. But Teba already knows that, so Link doesn’t mention it again.

Kakariko Village is in a state of readiness that is entirely new to Link when he arrives. New, but not surprising. Many across Hyrule may fear the specter of the Calamity, but only the Sheikah and the Zora have people who remember it. 

From where he’s standing at the shrine, he can see the village crawling with activity. On the rounded hills, plumes of smoke rise into the air: campfires of the Sheikah tasked with safeguarding the village. This is how Kakariko Village survived a century ago. This is how they intend to survive again, should the Calamity escape their grasp.

Link opts to walk instead of using the paraglider, and finds Impa waiting for him below. She is flanked by Paya and Dorian, with Cado standing close behind. Most of the Sheikah will remain to protect the village, but these three will be on hand to evacuate any of the wounded and help them escape the Astral Observatory when the time comes.

“Are you ready?” Impa asks when Link reaches them.

Ready to get this over with. “I will take you to the castle,” he says, addressing Paya. She has exchanged her usual hairstyle for a low ponytail, the kind Zelda likes when she’s neck-deep in Sheikah tech. She, Dorian and Cado are dressed in the stealth suits Link also owns.

“Have you already spoken to my sister?” Impa asks. 

“She and Robbie are at Vah Naboris.”

“I am glad to hear that. We were able to convince the nearby stables to evacuate, or at least prepare to,” Impa says. “I believe some stablehands still remain at Woodland and Outskirt Stable, but Wetland and Riverside Stable have taken refuge elsewhere.”

That’s… not great, but about as good as they could have hoped for. At least Woodland and Outskirt Stable aren’t quite as close to the castle. If the Guardians come, they might still have time to flee.

“We should go,” Dorian says. Link agrees; the sun is steadily climbing higher into the sky. He does not want to drag this battle into night and the domain of the Stal monsters.

He watches with a vague sort of detachment as Paya says a teary goodbye to her grandmother. Did anyone miss him when he went off to the army? Did anyone mourn him after he fell on Blatchery Plain?

There are people who care about him now.

Dorian’s daughters are nowhere in sight. He’s already said his goodbyes the day before, Link learns, something Koko understood the significance of and Cottla did not. He hopes they won’t lose their father as well as their mother. 

But despite the quiet worry written in the lines of his face, Dorian is determined, and so Link takes the Sheikah with him to the castle.

He has been in the castle so many times now that the Malice clouding the place is little more than an annoyance. But for the Sheikah, it is new. They cluster together, Dorian already drawing his blade.

“This is where the princess is trapped?” Paya asks in a low voice, eyes darting from left to right. Link, unconcerned, turns his back on the Sanctum.

“Yeah. It’s safe, just don’t go inside.”

He gestures for the Sheikah to follow him down the spiraling road. His excursion with Robbie means that the place is quite safe now: all the Guardians and many of the other monsters are taken care of. He avoids the blooms of Malice with practiced ease. The Sheikah are more cautious, edging their way around the large spills. 

Still, it takes them no more than a few minutes to reach the collapsed stairwell, and the Guards’ Chamber from there. The Sheikah look suitably impressed to be in the castle, destroyed as it is. Link points out the secret entrance Robbie showed him, and Cado curiously makes his way over, peering down the tunnel.

“So this goes all the way to Hyrule Field?” he asks. Link nods.

“When the Calamity is released, it will destroy part of the castle,” he says with a moment’s hesitation. “It might not be safe here.”

“We’ll stay in the tunnel,” Dorian assures him. Yes, it will be better there. Link has only ever visited the castle once after defeating Ganon, and he didn’t have the time or the inclination to take in the full scope of the destruction then. He thinks the Guards’ Chamber should be well out of the way, but he does not want to leave the Sheikah trapped in a crumbling room.

“And you’ll be fine too, right?” Paya asks anxiously. The castle has her visibly on edge. Link smiles, trying to project all the confidence he can muster. Having the Sheikah here is actually a relief, knowing that there’s someone around to help the wounded, should worse come to worst.

“I’ll be fine,” he tells her. Paya’s eyes are searching, trying to discern the truth of his words. Whatever she finds in his face must be enough, because she smiles tremulously.

“I know you will be. I know you can do it.”

Link appears at the shrine outside Gerudo Town and, for several long seconds, cannot bear to move. No vai outfit today, no matter the comfort it would bring. Today, Link will be entering the town wearing the champion’s tunic. Today, the Gerudo will find out that the vai they thought they knew has been lying to them all along. 

Today they’ll see— they’ll see him. 

There are already voices coming from nearby, the Gerudo gathered and ready to leave. Link tugs at the hem of the tunic, takes a deep breath and steps around the corner leading to the city entrance. 

“Link, over here!” Riju shouts. She’s at the forefront of the Gerudo army, all of them gathered at the gates. They’ve all seen Link now, and Link waits for the muttering to start up, for the recriminations to come. 

“The Yiga are keeping very quiet,” Riju says when Link reaches her, as if there’s nothing wrong, as if she hasn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Ah, but Riju already knew. Maybe she’s said something to the other Gerudo…? Riju has never been the kind of chief who ordered her people around. Why would she do anything different for Link’s sake?

“… That’s good.”

Riju hums. “I don’t trust them not to try anything, though. We’ve got guards out near the Highlands.”

Teake butts into the conversation: “Rest assured, Liana will keep them well in check.” 

She gives Link a thorough once-over, and Link tenses. Here it comes. Oh, they’ll join the fight against the Calamity. The Gerudo want to see it defeated more than anyone else in Hyrule. But after that? They won’t let Link enter the town anymore. No voe has ever been allowed to.

“If we’d had more time, we could’ve gotten you some proper clothes,” Teake says. “Don’t you Hylians have anything suitable?”

Link doesn’t gape at her, but it’s a close thing. “I’m—”

“Time to go, I think,” Riju says gently. She draws Link with her, and addresses her army.

“You have your orders,” she says. “You know what to do. For too long, the Calamity has been a blight not only on Hyrule, but also on our long history. Today, we will end it once and for all!”

The Gerudo cheer. Link, faced with the entire army, clutches the Sheikah Slate just to have something to hold. That’s really it? They’re just… okay with a voe having entered their town all this time?

Buliara, as always by Riju’s side, bends low. “You worry too much. The gates of Gerudo Town have always been open to any vai, even if she does not always feel that way.”   

It doesn’t explain anything, but somewhere beneath the anxiety in Link’s stomach, a little seed of relief is sprouting. They will still welcome you, it says. Even after this battle, Link will still be able to return here. 

If the constantly swirling malice of the castle frightens the Gerudo, they don’t show it. On the contrary, Ganon’s proximity has them more eager to fight than ever before. Link leaves them on the walkway leading to the Sanctum and hopes Riju will keep them from storming in. Riju is aware of the Sheikah’s presence, but she and Paya agreed that it would be better for the Sheikah to remain out of sight until their help is needed, to avoid any unnecessary conflict. 

Captain Teake, Liana and Marta don’t remain in the castle, but go with Link to Central Tower. They will join Granté on the ground and take on any Guardians that evade the Rito. 

It is mid-morning, much closer to noon than sunrise. In the Sheikah Slate, at Mipha’s request, the Lightscale Trident sits. Just one more stop.

Once, he could appear at the shrine underneath Zora’s Domain without anyone noticing. Not so today. When Link appears, Bazz is already there, and behind him, Link sees many of the other Zora peering down the stairs.

“Good, you made it!” Bazz says, wading into the pond and taking Link by the arm. “We were just about to swim down the river ourselves. Come on, the prince wants to talk to you!”

That’s convenient, because Link wants to talk to him too. He lets himself be led up the stairs and into the throng of Zora gathered around Mipha’s statue. Unlike the grim determination of the Sheikah and the Rito, and the fearless conviction of the Gerudo, the atmosphere in Zora’s Domain feels exuberant. Finally, they will defeat the monster and bring back the princess they lost so many years ago.

Next to them, Sidon stands in sharp contrast.

He remains to the side, giving instructions to the gathered fighters with an expression that is resigned and, if Link didn’t know any better, outright petulant. Link looks up, and yes, there is King Dorephan and the Zora Elders. 

Sidon wears petulance like an ill-fitting coat, but he puts up a good enough act to fool the Zora: the prince staying behind despite his protests. When he spots Link, he musters a strained smile for his father’s benefit. 

“Link, as you can see, we have prepared well,” he says, as if there was ever any doubt. Link glances back to see King Dorephan’s attention fixed squarely on them and tilts his head ever-so-slightly, back towards the shrine he came from.

“Can we talk?” he mouths. Sidon’s eyes also flit to his father.

“Of course.” 

It takes them a few minutes to escape the masses and descend back into the shrine’s chamber, but once they do, the strain on Sidon’s face vanishes and his mouth widens into a genuine smile. 

“I’m ready,” he says, revealing the badge pinned to the underside of his sash with a conspiratorial air. Link smiles in return and retrieves Mipha’s trident from the Sheikah Slate. Sidon’s eyes go wide.

“This is…”

“She wanted you to have it,” Link says, holding out the trident to Sidon. “Since she can’t be in the fight.”

Sidon’s hands hover over Mipha’s trident, hesitating before he accepts it with due reverence. He secures it to his sash. Even though Sidon has several heads on Mipha, it does not look out of place.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding choked up. Whatever else he wishes to say is interrupted when Torfeau ducks into the room.

“Prince Sidon? We’re all ready here!”

Sidon nods, sharing one last look with Link before taking the steps back up with determination. Link follows, all the way up to the higher level where the Zora Elders are gathered. King Dorephan gives the trident on Sidon’s back a pointed look.

“Whatever do you need weapons for?” he asks. Sidon bristles, once again putting on the mask of the petulant teenager he hasn’t been in decades.

“Link was kind enough to return the Ceremonial Trident to us. Am I not even allowed to show my support for our people?”

Ah, yes, the Ceremonial Trident. Indistinguishable from Mipha’s Lightscale Trident unless you wield it. And also tucked away in the Sheikah Slate. Link glances at Dento who, fortunately, is standing too far away to get a good look at it.

Sidon turns his back on his father and towards the crowd below them. “You have worked hard,” he says, in what is hopefully the last speech Link will have to face today, “now fight bravely. Fight for our land, and fight for my sister, Princess Mipha. Let us take up her arms and bring an end to this monster!”

Link does not pay attention to the cheers, instead glancing at King Dorephan again. Despite Sidon’s words, he doesn’t appear to have noticed anything amiss. A relief, surely. But as he takes out the Sheikah Slate and catches the glow of Sidon’s badge through his sash, he can only hope that he hasn’t cost the king yet another child. 

The rush of traveling via the Sheikah Slate has long become familiar to him, but the Zora stumble when they appear on the walkway. That means that, for a few moments at least, none of them notice their additional companion. Until Dunma, clutching her father’s shoulder, says: “Prince Sidon?”

Sidon grins. “I couldn’t very well leave you to fight the Calamity on your own,” he says, to general tittering among the Zora. He nods his head to Bazz.

“I am under your command, of course.”

A smart move. As Captain of the Guard, it falls to Bazz to lead the Zora into battle; yet as prince, Sidon outranks him. But changing up the familiar structure now would only spell disaster, and Sidon has clearly realized that too.

The Gerudo, gathered at the far end of the walkway, draw near. Sidon spots Riju and waves enthusiastically.

“Chief Riju!” he shouts. “Glad you could make it!”

“And you,” Riju says, although her smile is a bit more anxious than his. She and the Gerudo are quick to make their introductions to the Zora, to curiosity from both sides. Very few Gerudo ever make it to Zora’s Domain and no Zora ever go to Gerudo Town. 

Link ignores the noise and turns towards the Castle Sanctum. Here he is. Everyone is in position.  There is no more point in delaying. 

He reaches out to Zelda.

And Zelda appears, emerging in a glow of power.

A ripple of loud amazement stirs through the crowd. They take a collective step back, leaving just Link as the glow around her dims. Her right hand is still outstretched, keeping the Calamity in check. Her eyes glide over the gathered masses and some of the tension on her face fades. 

“Thank you for being here,” she says. Her voice doesn’t quite carry all the way across the crowd; in the back, some of the Zora stand up taller to hear her. “And fighting with us.”

“Princess Zelda,” says Sidon, a warm smile on his face. “It is an honor and a pleasure.”

Noises of agreement go up. Riju, next to Sidon, does not smile, but she nods to echo his sentiment. Zelda smiles shakily and looks at Link.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Link hands her the Sheikah Slate, pocketing the Travel Medallion for himself. This next part is tricky.

“Please step back, everyone!” Zelda calls out. The gathered crowd moves to the far end of the bridge, leaving Link and Zelda alone in front of the Sanctum, where the pulsing mass of Ganon is just barely visible. 

Zelda, still holding the slate, wraps her arms around him in a hug that Link readily returns. She tucks her head into the crook of his shoulder.

“Be careful, please,” she whispers. “I’ll be back soon.”

Link tightens his hold before letting go reluctantly, meeting her eyes. “I will.”

There’s a silent understanding that passes between the two of them. No going back after this moment. It’s not just them fighting the Calamity anymore. 

And as Zelda clenches her jaw and steps away, the energy keeping the Calamity under control dissipates.

The Calamity roars. Not one of the Divine Beasts fires its cannon, but the Calamity’s combined strength and fury is enough to make it crash through the castle anyway. Link takes one last look back at the Zora and the Gerudo, their faces drawn but determined, and jumps.

He chases after the Calamity as he’s done so many times before, hitting the monster with several Ancient Arrows before it’s even hit the ground. It’s a distraction, meant to keep the Calamity off-guard for the next part. 

Link lands, folding the paraglider in one smooth movement and ducking for the far side of the Observatory, hand clenched around the Travel Medallion in his pocket. He tosses it off to the side, barely waiting long enough to see its bright blue glow before darting away again. Ten, maybe fifteen seconds to draw the Calamity away. 

“Hey!” he shouts, circling the monster with his sword drawn. Ganon hears him, weapons already aimed his way. Perfect.

Link whirls around, slashing the Master Sword in a wide arc. The sword’s attack is secondary to his true goal: Urbosa and her lightning. She strikes true, leaving the monster stunned for the precious few seconds they need.

“They’re here,” she says before fading, and indeed, streaks of blue herald the arrival of the Zora and the Gerudo, Zelda in front with the Sheikah Slate.

“Spread out!” Buliara shouts and the Gerudo move, unleashing a torrent of arrows on the Calamity. Link ducks underneath the volley and finds Zelda.

“We’ve got this,” he says, pulling her to the side as the Zora charge in, spears at the ready. 

“I know,” she replies. For a moment, she looks reluctant to leave — and Link is just as reluctant to see her leave. Then she steels herself and reactivates the Sheikah Slate.

Link doesn’t watch her leave. Instead, he ducks back into the fray, catching a blast on his shield and sending it back. The Zora and Gerudo move in sync, a well-organized group, but Link has never had anyone else fight with him in this confined space. Already, he’s had to dodge out of the way of Rivan’s spear. They have a long fight ahead of them. He can only hope Zelda returns soon.

Strange, Zelda thinks, how it’s taken her this long to see Link use one of the champions’ gifts. Urbosa’s lightning crashed down on the Calamity with such power that Zelda almost wishes she could see the other champions in action as well. Only almost, because what they will get for losing the gifts is a far greater reward.

She rushes into Vah Naboris without switching clothes; not enough time, and little point besides. Link’s allies have already seen her in her tattered dress. She can no longer change their first impression of her.

She barely notices the cold, or the dust stirring up around her feet. Purah and Robbie are waiting for her, with Urbosa at their side. 

“Princess!” Purah greets her. “Good to see you again. We’re all ready for you to get started!”

Zelda throws out a quick word of thanks, crouching down in front of Vah Naboris’ main console. It might be terribly rude to ignore Purah and Robbie when they are meeting her — in their eyes — for the first time in a century, but there will be more than enough time for formalities after this battle, and anyway, she’s sure Link has explained everything to them.

She does a cursory check of their device. She trusts Purah and Robbie to have constructed it correctly, even if Link’s instructions were probably less thorough than she would have liked, but it doesn’t hurt to verify. She’s still playing with the champions’ lives. Even with Link’s life on the line again, she cannot afford to forget that. 

“Ready,” she confirms. Purah grins and connects the Sheikah Slate to the main console.

“Linky told me it’s not the first time you’ve done this,” Purah says when Zelda sends the first pulse of her power through. Zelda flinches; Urbosa nods reassuringly when she seeks her eyes.

“No, it is not.”

Last time, Urbosa was the final champion she brought back. She had had Mipha’s support then, which made up for her own exhaustion. Now, she will have no such help. Mipha is the very last champion she will bring back. That means she has to temper herself, no matter how much every fiber of her mind screams at her to hurry.

Urbosa isn’t making it easier. She paces the length of the room, footsteps unheard. The flash of ghostly green in the corner of her eyes is enough to draw Zelda from her concentration every time Urbosa passes her by again. 

Robbie saves her from snapping by speaking up first: “Everything okay there?”

“I am not sure,” Urbosa says after a moment’s hesitation — entirely unlike her. “Link hasn’t used my gift since the start of the battle.”

“Is he all right?” Zelda asks, already turning. She has only barely tapped into her powers; she can easily defeat Ganon with what she has left. It would mean giving up now, but if Link is in trouble… She’s sure the other champions would understand.

Urbosa holds up a hand, forestalling her. “He’s fine, I’m sure. I would have felt it if he wasn’t. Besides, Mipha would have alerted us.”

Zelda slowly turns back to the console, only partially reassured. Urbosa is right. But she is so worried: what if something has happened to Link? What if something has happened to the others? 

Do not rush , she tells herself. But the urge to reach out to Link herself is so strong. Only the thought of startling him in the middle of the battle stays her hand.

It takes her over an hour to bring Urbosa back, and every minute of it feels like an eternity. But finally, they’re at the point where Urbosa can take her Fury back into her soul and complete the final stage of the process. Link still hasn’t used her gift by that time. As Zelda watches the energy return to Urbosa, she hopes he won’t need it now.

For Zelda, who has already lived this process once, Urbosa’s disappearance is no longer a surprise. Purah and Robbie, however, look panicked when Urbosa’s spirit fades from view.

“It’s okay,” Zelda says, beckoning them over to the main console. “She’s in there. Can you open it?”

“Right!” Purah says, stretching to reach the console. “In there, really? To think we missed that all these years…”

Zelda hums in vague agreement, far more interested in the way the main console unfolds. And there, again, is Urbosa, stretching out her arms. She is far more alert than she was last time, already reaching for the edges of the chamber to lift herself out. Zelda reaches down and clasps her hand, reassuringly warm and solid. It hasn’t even been that long since she last saw Urbosa for real. But the sight of her, hale and healthy, still brings tears to her eyes.

“Here I am again, little bird,” Urbosa says, letting herself be hoisted out. The scarring that runs across her arm and stomach hasn’t changed. This, it appears, was not something the stasis chamber considered worth fixing.

“Now, let’s do some more damage to that monstrosity,” she announces with grim satisfaction. Zelda tugs at her hand.

“Ah, wait—” she says and focuses. Finally, she allows her mind to expand and find Link. To her eternal relief, he is still there, still okay.

Link? Vah Naboris is firing.

She gets a sense of comprehension back from him, enough to know that he’s understood her words and is getting everyone out of the way. She nods at Urbosa.

“They’re ready.”

Urbosa doesn’t need telling twice. She puts a hand on the wall of her Divine Beast, and with nary a word passing between them, Vah Naboris’ cannon powers up with a high-pitched whine, before unleashing a blast that shakes them all to their core.

It will bring Link a little relief. She is about to bring him more.

From the Sheikah Slate, Zelda brings out Urbosa’s Scimitar of the Seven and Daybreaker. Urbosa takes them with a fierce grin, testing the weight of the scimitar in her hand.

“It truly has been too long,” she muses. “Take me to the castle now, little bird. I have a score to settle.”

Using Fury or Gale in the cramped space that is the Astral Observatory was always a risky endeavor. Now, with so many people around, it is nigh impossible. Link dodges past Reeza and catches the Calamity’s sword on his shield before it can strike Gaddison. Gaddison doesn’t miss a beat — she ducks below Link’s outstretched arm and drives the sharp tip of her spear into the Calamity’s side, a move that feels like they’ve done it dozens of times before. Maybe they have. 

Reeza, looking distinctly impressed, charges in after her with her own spear. 

It feels like an eternity and an instant before he feels the warmth of Urbosa’s gift pulling from his body, the electric charge of it returning to its true owner. For a mad second, he thinks of holding on to it; wonders if he can. 

But he has no right to it, so he lets Urbosa’s Fury slip away. It should only be a few more minutes now. Riju and Buliara are on the other side of the room, directing the Gerudo to attack the Calamity from behind. 

Link slips past its attacks and finds them, muttering, “Be ready.”

Riju’s eyes go wide, then narrow; Bulliara gives him a curt nod. Link ducks out again and finds Bazz, who claps him on the shoulder before disappearing behind a pillar still left standing. Link nocks an arrow and fires it at the Calamity. 

Despite the opposition it faces, and the wounds it’s suffered, it is still just as fierce and dangerous as an hour ago. Fortunately, the same goes for the Zora and Gerudo. Their goal here isn’t to defeat it, merely to stall long enough for Zelda to bring all the champions back to them. That means they can afford to be careful.

Link? Vah Naboris is firing.

Link nods, remembers that Zelda can’t see him, and tries his hardest to get his understanding across. 

“Fall back!” he shouts, a cry that gets picked up by the people closest to him and ripples throughout the Observatory. They spread out, away from the Calamity, with the archers keeping it from coming after them. The Calamity halts, confused at the lack of opposition. Then Vah Naboris’ attack crashes down. 

It strikes at the Calamity with unerring precision. 

The Calamity rears back, screeching in horrible pain. Link gets in close enough to strike it with the Master Sword; it swirls towards him, lashing out in uncoordinated anger. Good enough for him. He needs to get it away from the Travel Medallion, so Zelda and Urbosa can safely join them. 

But the monster is too blinded by pain to follow him for long. It strikes with its sword, destroying part of the room and scattering the other fighters. When Link regains focus, it’s turned away from him, chasing after Bazz, Rivan and Dunma.

Its lightning strikes.

And Link— Link is too far away, and even Isha’s jewelry won’t be able to save them from a full strike, not when the Zora are so vulnerable. He won’t make it—

But Riju does, Thunder Helm slipping over her eyes. It draws the blast towards her and away from the Zora, leaving her stumbling as the full impact of its power strikes her.

Link shouts — he’s sure he does. It’s a shout echoed by the Gerudo as they see their Chief get struck by the Calamity. But Riju remains standing. The lightning fizzles out harmlessly. Rivan grabs Riju as she sways. They’re fine.

He doesn’t have time to let the relief sink in. Moments later, the Travel Medallion flares to life and Zelda appears, Urbosa at her side.

It’s the first time in a century that he’s seen Urbosa in the flesh. Zelda told him about the scarring that she had sustained, but now he’s seeing it for real: jagged lightning running down her body. His own scars ache with remembered sympathy. Even boosted by Zelda’s power, the Sheikah technology could not undo all the damage they sustained.

But Urbosa stands tall, eyes burning as they fall on the Calamity. “Good to see you, kid,” she tells Link, and then strides into the room, Daybreaker raised high. There is no time for introductions, no matter how awed the Gerudo look at her. The Calamity has recovered from Vah Naboris’ attack. The fight goes on.

“You didn’t use Fury,” Zelda asks. “Everything all right?”

Link nods. “Too dangerous,” he says, gesturing at the Zora and Gerudo charging at the Calamity again. Zelda nods her understanding.

“Do I need to take anyone?”

Link studies the fighters with a critical eye. There’s a nasty gash running down Tottika’s side that will need Mipha’s help to heal cleanly, and Lashley and Merina both have a variety of scrapes from where they landed badly during an earlier attack, but no one is too grievously hurt. He shakes his head. Zelda bites her lip.

“Then, I shall see you when I return with Daruk,” she says. Revali will not come to the cramped confines of the castle. “But Link, you must tell me if you need my help sooner than that. For whatever reason.”

“I will.” Had he been alone, he might not have. He’s not alone now.

The Calamity, having now noticed Zelda’s presence, turns their way despite repeated attempts from the others to keep it distracted. Link steps in front of her, shield raised, and Zelda takes the hint. She’s gone a second later. Link finds Urbosa’s eyes and she smirks, raising her left hand high. 

Her lightning strikes far more true than Link ever could have managed. He allows himself a smile. Of course, it’s always been much better off with its real owner.

Zelda dips back into Vah Naboris, where Purah and Robbie have now disconnected their device from the main console, and stores it into the Sheikah Slate before pulling out elixirs for all of them. This is the part she’s least been looking forward to. Vah Medoh.

Revali.

But the sooner she goes to Hebra, the sooner they can get this over with.

It’s not Teba who’s waiting for them when they appear next to Vah Medoh. Teba is in Hyrule Field, ready to take on the Guardians that shot down Link last time. Instead, the black Rito, the one who was with Teba and Revali when she went to the Flight Range, paces through the snow.

He stops when they approach, face smoothing out from annoyance into something more neutral. Zelda’s own annoyance, already close to the surface, chooses that moment to make its appearance. Oh, Revali already sullied her name to this Rito as well, didn’t he?

But the next moment, he smiles. Too strained to be cordial, but whatever anger he feels clearly isn’t aimed at her.

“You must be the princess.”

“Princess Zelda,” Zelda says. “This is Purah and Robbie. Thank you for your help.”

The Rito merely nods and crouches, allowing her to climb onto his back. It is not the same smooth flight as Teba’s. The Rito wavers upon taking off, even with the help of Vah Medoh’s gusts. 

Still, the flight is quick. When she climbs off his back — less gracefully than she would have liked — Revali is there, staring at the castle.

“Why isn’t he using my gift?”

Zelda forcibly tamps down on her frustration again. She may have seen Revali as a kindred spirit once, but they were never close, and any chance of changing that died along with Link. She still doesn’t understand why Link considers this champion a friend, let alone a close one.

“Would you prefer he endanger everyone in the castle?” she replies, walking towards the main console of Vah Medoh. Revali, fortunately, has no reply to that. 

She has just started plugging in the first cables when the black Rito returns with Purah, and then Robbie soon after. He watches them set up everything with great interest, but when Zelda finally connects the Sheikah Slate and sends a first, searching pulse of the Goddess’ power through, he retreats to a merrily burning campfire.

Zelda sets to her task, happy to ignore Revali’s presence entirely. Revali, thank goodness, also feels no need to talk to her. For a while, he paces, until the other Rito says something and gestures at the campfire. Revali sits, clearly reluctant, but moments later soft snippets of conversation reach her ear.

It’s there that she finally learns the other Rito’s name. Harth, yet another name from Link’s stories. The village’s… bowyer, she believes? What few sentences she can pick out certainly support that conclusion. Revali, of course, has a great many opinions on bows and Harth seems only too happy to indulge him. 

At least this way, he isn’t interfering with Zelda’s work.

“Slow down, princess,” Robbie mutters, looking at the energy readings on the Sheikah Slate. Zelda takes a deep breath and carefully reduces the flow of her power. She mustn’t rush, even if she doesn’t want to be here, in the Hebra cold with Revali for company. She mustn’t, even when Link and Urbosa are fighting for their lives, and so many others alongside them.

Perhaps the only mercy is that Revali is the lightest of the champions, and therefore needs far less time to heal from his injuries than Urbosa. It is quick going once Revali takes back his Gale, and just minutes later she gets to watch the console unfold again. 

She steps back and leaves it to Harth to pull Revali out of the stasis chamber. He pointedly ignores her, stretching his wings and adjusting the tattered scarf around his neck. Not a word of thanks, of course. She only saved his life.

Link? Vah Medoh is ready.

The feeling she gets back is one of overwhelming relief. Oh, she understands why Link didn’t use Revali’s Gale in the battle, but having no real way to keep tabs on him was still frustrating. She hopes he’s still okay.

“You can fire.”

Revali scoffs, tossing his head back. “Of course. Medoh has been ready for hours, princess.”

Zelda refuses to dignify that with a reply. Below her, the ancient machine whirs to life, gathering all its energy into one final attack on the castle. 

Revali makes a satisfied sound and rests a wing on the main console, a silent gesture of thanks. How telling, that he shows more gratitude to a machine than to the people actually around him.

“Now take me to the battle,” he says. Zelda tightens a hand around the Sheikah Slate. This needs to happen. There’s no point in expecting politeness. She tosses a badge at Revali, who snatches it out of the air with his right wing.

“Master Revali,” Harth says. “Your bow.”

“Right,” Revali says, and he takes his bow from Harth with careful hands. He runs a finger over the curve of it and folds his right hand around the grip.

“You’ve changed it,” he says. Harth nods. 

“Link insisted. Also,” he steps back to the campfire and picks up his bag, “as we understood it, you will be in need of a quiver.”

The quiver he pulls out is very much a match for Revali’s Great Eagle Bow: sturdy wood decorated with the Rito colors, with the straps fit to attach to his belt. Revali takes it with reverence, turning it around in his hands. 

The full span of it is painted with a symbol that strikes Zelda as familiar, although it takes her a moment to place it. Ah, the same symbol woven into the cloth of Link’s paraglider. A mark of the Rito, no doubt. 

“I— Thank you,” Revali says, an unusual tremor to his voice. He draws out one of the arrows already inside: a bomb arrow.

“Link gifted us a stash of Ancient Arrows, but Saki and Teba took them all to the battlefield,” Harth explains, sounding a little abashed. 

“No, this is perfect, thank you,” Revali says again, voice breaking. He clips the quiver to his belt and slings his bow across his shoulder. “Now, take me there.”

“I will join you,” Harth says, picking up his own bow. Zelda smiles and nods. Yes, some additional help will surely be welcome. 

But Revali shakes his head. “No,” he says, voice hard. “You mustn’t. Your wing—”

Harth’s face, cordial just moments earlier, turns into a mask of annoyance. “Did Link tell you that?”

Revali’s face softens, looking… guilty, almost? “This isn’t the first time we have met face to face,” he tells Harth. “I don’t know how much Link told you, but…” he shakes his head. “Rito Village needs a bowyer. Tulin and Molli need a father.”

“And you would all just have me sit here,” Harth grumbles, eyes hard. Revali shakes his head, tucking his left wing behind his back.

“Rito Village needs protection too.”

Harth isn’t appeased, but they do not have any further time to waste. Returning to Vah Medoh will be more of a hassle than Vah Naboris, so Zelda rushes in to help Purah and Robbie pack up. It’s a matter of minutes before they are leaving Harth behind to head to Central Tower.

Hyrule Field is… quiet. 

Only Jerrin is on the tower when they appear, but the flash of blue light is enough to draw the attention of the Rito in the air. Teba, Zelda recognizes, and Saki, along with a third Rito she’s never seen before. They land on the tower just a minute after they’ve emerged, eyes avidly going from Zelda to Revali.

“Master Revali,” Teba says, something puzzled to his voice. His eyes linger on Revali’s face. “It is an honor.”

“Teba, Saki,” Revali says. “And Mazli, correct?”

The third Rito nods, looking a little starstruck. “It is a pleasure to fight by your side, Master Revali.”

“Thank you for your help,” Revali replies. Saki, who has been staring very intently at Revali but hasn’t said anything yet, now turns her attention to Zelda. Her eyes are piercing and Zelda swallows, remembering the last time they talked.

But Saki smiles. “You must be princess Zelda. Link speaks fondly of you.”

Revali goes rigid. Zelda manages to bring up a smile and nod in thanks.

“Have you encountered any trouble?” she asks, leaning over the edge of the tower. Below, she spots a few Gerudo. They wave at her; she waves in return.

“It’s quiet,” Teba says, turning towards the castle. The Sanctum has been destroyed, but aside from that, it is eerily silent. No noise from the battle reaches them out here. “We witnessed the attacks of the Divine Beasts, but it appears the monster has not called upon its forces yet.”

“It might change any second,” Zelda warns. Teba nods gravely. 

“We will be ready.”

Zelda hopes they will be. Still two champions to go. Their fight is far from over.

Revali has to be on Hyrule Field now.

Link has felt Gale fade from him, bringing with it a wave of regret that he didn’t get to use it one last time. Vah Medoh’s attack was devastating, and the Calamity is now clearly flagging. A good thing too. Katta broke a leg earlier and is now being guarded by Reeza and Plokka. Tottika’s injuries have only gotten worse, and Link is furiously trying to get Bazz’ attention so they can get him away from the battle.

Bazz catches his drift and shouts something at Gaddison, who immediately ducks out of the battle to escort Tottika away. It leads to a furious but quick discussion that eventually has Tottika folding. He’s losing a lot of blood, far more than Link is comfortable with. It’s a death trap down here. The Sheikah cannot come to their aid until this form of the Calamity has been struck down.

At least they have Urbosa on their side. Her lightning has been relentless. Together with Riju absorbing any lightning that strays too close to any of their allies, she makes for an unstoppable force.

Link finds himself side-by-side with Sidon soon after, calling on Daruk’s Protection to block an attack from the Calamity’s spear.

“We need it out of here,” Sidon shouts, ducking behind the shield of Daruk’s gift as well. Everyone here knows that the Calamity has another form, one that will emerge once they defeat this one. The story of the cycle Link and Zelda are trapped in hasn’t spread, but Link has explained what he could about Ganon’s different forms and attacks. Knowledge from a century ago, he’s claimed, as well as prophetic dreams and information the princess imparted upon him. They believed it easily enough. 

Hyrule Field would give them maneuverability that the Castle doesn’t afford them, but Ganon’s Dark Beast form would bring with it all the Guardians still locked away.  

But Sidon’s right. They won’t last much longer down here.

“I’m going in,” he decides. Sidon grins, spinning the Lightscale Trident to point at the monster.

“I’ve got your back.”

Link charges forward, shield raised high to deflect the attacks coming his way. As he expected, the Calamity redirects its focus onto him. It has always seen him as the biggest threat, something he’s already exploited more than once.

He slides below the Calamity, striking at any point he can reach. Sidon is right behind him, hitting it where Link can’t. It doesn’t take long for the Gerudo archers to figure out what he’s doing: their arrows change course, arching over Link to hit the Calamity’s head. It must be almost down… It can’t be much longer…

Sidon crouches, thrusting up the Lightscale Trident with all of his might. It pierces through the Calamity’s underside; the monster screeches, a horrible scream that Link has heard far too many times already.

“Get back!” he shouts at Sidon. Sidon wrenches the trident loose and falls back with Link, covered once more by Daruk’s protection. 

“Any wounded?” Daruk shouts, eyes on the Calamity.

“A couple.” 

He fades before Link can say more, but that’s enough. Zelda will know to find the wounded here and take them away.

“Fall back!” Buliara shouts, a call that’s soon echoed by Riju and Bazz and everyone else. Link retreats, shield still raised as the Calamity writhes and screeches and finally flees from them, out towards Hyrule Field.

For a moment, there is only silence.

“Right!” Urbosa says. She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t need to shout for her voice to carry. “Well done, everyone. Link, can we get out of here?”

Link nods, grabbing onto the once-smooth walls, now shattered and perfect for climbing. “The Sheikah will be here soon,” he says, hoisting himself up. “I will meet them. Look after the wounded.”

He’s always been a strong climber, and his repeated climbs to the top of Vah Medoh’s spire have only made him stronger. He is almost to the top when he hears the frantic voices of the Sheikah closing in.

“Over here,” he shouts, hoisting himself back onto ground level. The castle is a disaster ground, but he’s come out in a spot that is hidden from sight. A good thing too. He can hear the whirring of the Guardian Skywatchers, the twisting of the turrets. All the Guardians Link destroyed before, revived by Ganon’s power.

“Are you okay?” Paya gasps, sliding onto her knees. Link nods, pointing down.

“Get the rest.”

This is something they spent a long time preparing for too. Cado and Dorian are already anchoring the rope ladders they’ve built for this exact purpose.

“Any wounded?” Dorian asks.

“A few.” Link says. “If you stay with them, the princess will come for you.”

The Travel Medallion will remain down in the Observatory until Zelda can do just that. 

Link ventures out a few steps from cover, trying to gauge the situation. A Guardian immediately spots him. Right. Exactly as bad as he remembers, then.

He ducks out of sight and hopes he didn’t draw the attention of any others. It’s a straight shot from here to the Guards’ Chamber, but they’ll be out in the open for a bit.

“Let me handle that,” Urbosa says. She’s still panting from the fight and the climb up here, but she eyes the Guardians with barely-tempered fury. Link wonders what drew her ire.

But it isn’t just the Guardians in the Castle anymore. The sky is flooding with Skywatchers. Soon, Castle Town will be swarming with Guardian Stalkers. They need to get to the Guards’ Chamber, and Urbosa’s lightning can clear their way.

“Yes, please.”

Vah Rudania is already perfectly in position when they arrive, and it’s a work of mere minutes to reach the main terminal on its back. At least someone is showing some consideration here.

“You made it!” Daruk says. He smiles widely, but the edges of it are strained. “How’s it going, huh? The others okay?”

“Urbosa and Revali are fine,” Zelda replies. She leans down to help Purah on top of Vah Rudania and gives her the Sheikah Slate. “I haven’t been able to go back to the castle, do you…?”

“The little guy’s doing pretty well!” Daruk says. “Been using my Protection quite a bit, but it looks like everyone’s still standing!”

That’s a relief. Still, the sooner they get this done with, the better. Daruk will take longer than any other champion, and she hates being so far away from the Castle, with no way to keep track of Link aside from his use of Protection.

… His very frequent use of Protection. 

Only minutes into the process, Link has already used Protection twice more. Daruk paces, clearly worried, but he assures her each and every time that Link is still fine, and so are the people with him. 

“D’you think it’s gonna call the Guardians soon?” Daruk asks. He’s staring at the castle. Zelda wishes she could do the same.

“It may be a little while longer still.”

Last time… Last time, it took three attacks from the Divine Beasts to bring down the Calamity’s first form, and only then did it call upon the Guardians. If Link can hold off long enough, Daruk will be able to provide his Protection in person. 

It isn’t to be.

“Princess,” Daruk says not even half an hour into the process, when he comes out of the trance that using Protection generates. “The Calamity is fleeing the castle.”

His voice is low and tight and urgent, and Zelda looks up, already fearing what she’ll see. 

She never did see the moment when Ganon emerged. She had felt it, of course: not just the earthquake but also the overwhelming sense of despair, of failure. But only Revali got high enough to actually see the Calamity burst free. 

Still, she imagines it looked a lot like this.

A cloud of malice, large enough to cover the castle and everything around it, rapidly coiling onto itself, before taking the shape of the massive Beast she and Link have defeated so many times before. She’s never seen it form from afar.

But the Dark Beast is the least of her worries. The pillars around the castle are activating one by one, sickly orange glow brightening until it matches the lava all around them. They’re here. The Guardians have returned. 

“There’s a sight I’d hoped to never see again,” Robbie says. His hands are clenched around the main terminal, knuckles white. Besides him, Purah takes an audible breath, body tensing up before she abruptly turns away again.

“Let’s keep going,” she says. Zelda nods, tearing her eyes away from the castle. They’ve planned for this. The Rito are on Hyrule Field to intercept the Guardians. 

“Are they okay down there?” she asks instead.

“A few wounded,” Daruk replies, “but not Link.”

“We’ll pick them up,” Zelda says, calling upon her power again. The warm glow of it suffuses her being. “They should be safe on Central Tower.”

Robbie hums, unconvinced. Zelda isn’t so sure of it herself, but leaving them in the castle isn’t an option.

“Take them to Hateno instead! Symin’s been looking for something to do,” Purah calls from where she’s seated on the terminal. 

“Oh, yes, that would be better!”

Link is still in terrible danger. The faster she works, the faster she can bring an end to this battle. Could she…? 

At the rate she’s going, it will take at least another hour before Daruk is fighting fit. An hour without Vah Rudania’s attack. An hour of the Guardians flooding every corner of Hyrule Field. She cannot in good conscience take that long. 

It is a risk, but she must take it. She redoubles her efforts, increasing the flow of her power until she cannot safely give any more. 

Daruk’s huge form needs so much more energy than any of the other champions. Whereas after Urbosa and Revali, she still felt brimming with power, now it is starting to strain at her. 

Daruk himself isn’t making it any easier.

“How much longer, d’you think?” he asks for what has to be the third time in the last fifteen minutes. He hasn’t turned away from the castle since Ganon’s Dark Beast form emerged. Zelda resists the urge to snap at him. He’s just worried. They’re all worried.

It still takes her another half hour to heal the injuries Daruk sustained. Link has stopped using his Protection entirely, and Zelda can only hope it means that he’s out of range of the Guardians, making his way over to Hyrule Field. But the silence is just as bad as it was with Urbosa and Revali.

Finally, though, she has to ask Daruk to take his gift back.

“I suppose there’s no other choice,” Daruk mutters, eyebrows drawn together tightly. He nods to himself, hands still clenched into massive fists. Zelda can only watch, with no small amount of trepidation, how the light of Daruk’s gift flows into him again. 

Daruk vanishes from sight moments after.

“All right, quickly, open it up,” she commands. The sooner Rudania can fire, and the sooner Daruk can head to Hyrule Field, the sooner Link will have the shield of Daruk’s gift again.

Purah and Robbie jump into action, going through the now-familiar motions of unlocking the main terminal and unsealing the stasis chamber that kept Daruk safe. Even despite her trepidation, it is good to see Daruk again. She hasn’t been able to heed his earlier request, she notes wryly. The marks left by Fireblight Ganon still stand out, black slashes of molten stone covering his torso. 

But Daruk isn’t bothered. He clambers out of the stasis chamber, waving off Robbie’s help. Rudania rumbles, shaking the floor below their feet, and Daruk smiles.

“Good to be back. Now, let’s make things a little easier on the little guy, shall we?”

It’s as good as an order. Vah Rudania glows bright blue, unleashing all of its power into one devastating shot —

— and misses Ganon entirely.

With Robbie, going through the tunnel had been intriguing, a whole new part of the castle he either didn’t remember or never knew about. Now, it is a source of frustration. The tunnel, at least, means that the Zora do not need to resort to the castle waterfalls. But it is built for Hylians, and too low for them. The size of the crowd makes it hard to move quickly. And all the while, the Dark Beast and all of its Guardians are converging on Hyrule Field.

The Rito and Gerudo on the field know better than to fight the Beast. But what if Ganon leaves them no choice? What if, in Link’s absence, it turns its wrath onto everyone else?

The distance between the castle and the Sacred Grounds has never felt so long. In the dark, without the Sheikah Slate, it is impossible to tell how much time has passed. Every second feels like a minute; every minute like a second.

But finally, they reach the end of the tunnel. Link halts, listening intently. Behind him, the tunnel lights up with the glow of Ancient Weapons. 

The distant sound of Guardians is unmistakable, but the grounds above them are abandoned. Link is the first to get out, sword already unsheathed. Urbosa follows right behind, lightning at her fingertips.

“Where are they?”

The answer is immediately clear. “Castle Town,” Link says, turning in a slow circle. Hidden by the trees as they are, the Guardians haven’t spotted them yet. But down the road to Castle Town, Link can see the glow of their eyes, the movement of their spindly legs. It is only a matter of time before one of the Skywatchers spots them. 

And on the other side of the grove, on Hyrule Field… the Dark Beast.

It is much closer than Link had expected it to be, trampling the trees of the Greenbelt. Against all better judgment, Link turns his back on the Guardians and moves to the other side of the grove. 

The Dark Beast is alone. That’s good. That means the Rito and Gerudo on Hyrule Field took refuge in Central Tower. It is also… confused?

“What’s it doing?” Sidon asks, coming up at his shoulder. His hands are clenched tightly around the Lightscale Trident. How much longer will it last, after that last attack?

“It’s… It’s looking for me,” Link realizes. They watch in tense silence as the Dark Beast turns, bellows, and then turns again, this time towards the castle. Whatever connection that ties him and Zelda and Ganon together, it’s allowing the Beast to find him now. 

Right now, they are caught between the Dark Beast and the Guardians in Castle Town. They have no time to waste. 

Laine and Kotta are the last to emerge from the tunnel. Riju makes to follow Link, but she is stopped by Buliara.

“Lady Riju, it’s better for you to stay away.”

Riju’s eyes immediately narrow. “I will stand by my people.”

“You do not yet have the training our soldiers have,” Buliara rebutts. “It will only endanger you.”

Privately, Link agrees. For all the power she holds and the burden she carries, Riju is still just a child. Her Golden Bow will be of little use; the Thunder Helm even less. The Dark Beast is not capable of generating lightning anymore.

But Riju’s face is stormy, and she draws herself up to her full height. Before she can say anything, however, Urbosa speaks.

“There is value in knowing your own abilities, and in trusting the abilities of your people,” she says. “Do you believe in your people, Chief Riju?”

“I— Yes, of course I do.” Riju looks at the Gerudo around her. “But I should —”

“Trust them,” Urbosa continues. Riju’s expression turns resigned. She lifts the Thunder Helm and offers it to Urbosa.

“Then, you should have this. It belonged to you.” 

“It belongs to the Chief of the Gerudo,” Urbosa says, one eyebrow raised. She pushes the Thunder Helm back, folding Riju’s hands around it. “Trust your people. Support them in the way that suits you best.”

Riju clearly isn’t happy, but she tightens her hold on the Thunder Helm. “All right. I trust you will take care of this monster. Come to me if you find yourself unable to fight.”

The Gerudo assent, and Link meets Buliara’s eyes and spots the relief there. They do not have more time to waste. Already, the sound of the Guardians is coming closer. Already, the Dark Beast is turning its massive head their way.

“It’s strong,” Link calls out, a last-ditch warning, “but it’s slow! Just keep running!” 

And with that, they leave the safety of the Sacred Grounds, angling away from Passeri Greenbelt and in the direction of Mabe Village. The Dark Beast lets out an ear-splitting roar. Link dares to glance back and, yes, the Guardians are on the move. 

The pillars surrounding Hyrule Castle are still spitting them out by the dozen. But he has no time to worry about the Guardians, because once the Dark Beast has spotted him, it turns all its attention to him.

There’s no escaping it — the other combatants might as well not exist. It focuses all its attacks on him, undaunted by the arrows coming its way. Link grits his teeth. This is the destiny that ties him and Zelda and Ganon together. A destiny he never wanted. A destiny he will escape today.

No horses have shown up for him, and without the Sheikah Slate, the Master Cycle is out of reach. But he can still outrun the Dark Beast. He can lead it to the open plains of Hyrule Field, far away from anyone it could harm. 

The sound of the Guardians, their incessant beeping, fills the air around him, impossible to ignore. They are swarming out of Castle Town now, having finally located their quarry. Omnipresent, overwhelming, unrelenting. 

Link breathes through a stab of panic. He’s not alone this time. Already, the Gerudo archers are loosing arrow after arrow at the Stalkers that emerge onto Hyrule Field. 

But that isn’t enough to stop the Skywatchers. 

They have been circling the field. Urbosa’s lightning crashes down, taking out two-three-four all at once, but there are plenty more to come. Link reaches for the paraglider. The Beast’s updrafts will give him a much better vantage point. 

But the Skywatchers reach him before he can take to the air. Two Guardians, impossible to block both. Link raises his shield —

— And the Guardians fall. 

Two arrows. One shot. A feat reserved only for the best of archers.

“Took you long enough,” Revali says. 

He’s here , afternoon sunlight turning his feathers iridescent and setting the diamonds in his braids afire. Link feels breathless. He could reach out now, if he wanted. He could—

“Master Revali!” Mazli shouts, and in one fluid movement, Revali fires again, arrow unerringly finding the Skywatcher coming up on them. Teake dives for the parts and tosses them at Mazli, who takes off with them. 

“You’re alright?” Link asks. The Dark Beast is moving away again, distracted by the other fighters. It gives them a brief moment of respite. 

“What do you take us for? Of course we are,” Revali says. Indeed, the Rito’s aim is true. Many of the Guardians aren’t making it far into Hyrule Field. It seems like there are less of them somehow. Less Stalkers, at least. Or maybe it’s because Link doesn’t have to face them alone this time.

Urbosa’s lightning strikes the Dark Beast. She raises a hand and Revali waves in return, eyes never quite leaving Link’s. Link stares back just as avidly. Revali’s finally back in his own body. Link finally gets to see him properly, not just a stolen glimpse before his own death. 

“Link!” Saki warns. The Dark Beast is no longer distracted by Urbosa and instead turns its attention back to Link. Link tears his eyes away and unsheathes the Master Sword.

“Take care of that thing,” Revali says, an arrow already nocked. “I’ll handle the Guardians.”

They can talk later. They’ll get that chance — Link will make sure they’ll get that chance. So he charges at Ganon and resists the urge to look back. They cannot defeat it without Zelda. But oh, they can wear it down.

They are slowly closing in on Central Tower again. The Rito fly back and forth, bringing parts to Jerrin and Granté and coming back with more arrows, more weapons. It is the best they have without the Sheikah Slate, but still the Guardians keep coming, spat out in endless waves from the pillars.

He has just dodged a swipe from the Dark Beast, dragging a wounded Marta with him, when the tug in his chest heralds the disappearance of Daruk’s Protection.

It’s good news. It still leaves Link feeling bereft. Without Protection, he shifts to a more defensive strategy, falling back and keeping the Beast distracted. His legs ache, but it’s far from the worst he’s ever felt. Whenever one of the Skywatchers sets its sights on him, Revali or one of the other Rito take it out before it can fire. 

Link, Rudania is ready. 

Finally. Link puts on an extra burst of speed, waving down Teba to get Marta away from the battlefield as he puts some distance between himself and the Beast.

“Rudania’s firing!” he shouts. Teba picks up the warning and retreats with Marta, alerting the rest of the crowd as he does. 

But when its opponents retreat, the Dark Beast doesn’t follow. It halts, confused, and then — runs.

The Calamity has no great intelligence left, all of it corrupted by the Malice that has consumed it. But having seen its opponents retreat twice, only to be hit by the attack of a Divine Beast… It’s learning, Link realizes. It’s going to dodge.

He runs forward to cut it off, but Vah Rudania’s cannon blast already lights up the sky — and strikes north of them. 

The pillars in front of the castle shatter on impact.

“The Guardians,” Urbosa realizes, lightning halting the Calamity in its tracks. And yes, when the smoke clears, the pillars closest to them are thoroughly destroyed, and no more Guardians emerge from them.

Nothing leaves a mark on those pillars. Not weapons, not bombs, not even Guardian attacks… except something as massively powerful as the attack of a Divine Beast. Daruk has just halved Ganon’s forces in one fell swoop.

The Dark Beast roars, and it spurs everyone into movement again. Even with the flow of Guardians halted, plenty of them still respond to its call.

A flash of light heralds a new arrival on Central Tower, and moments later another flash at ground level sees the Travel Medallion reactivating. Link is too far away to meet them, but Daruk’s towering form is unmistakable. Zelda is with them, and the Sheikah as well. They dart away towards the edges of the battlefield as soon as they appear.

Zelda raises a hand, a greeting and a question all at once. Link lifts his hand in return, a reassurance. It must be enough for Zelda, for she vanishes again. The next time she returns will mark the end of this battle. All they need to do is last until then.

But first.

Link ducks away and meets Daruk halfway, quickly joined by Revali and Urbosa. 

“That was a good plan you had there,” Urbosa says. Daruk grins.

“Yeah? It worked?”

“It worked,” Link confirms. “Thank you.”

Daruk claps him on the shoulder, a solid touch that Link has imagined feeling so many times before. “I’m glad, buddy. But you shouldn’t be thanking me, it wasn’t my idea!”

“Then…?”

“Yunobo thought of it!” Daruk says, unmistakably proud. “He came to Rudania the other day, really worried about you. I told him about the Guardians, and here we are!” He peers at the Dark Beast and the Guardians responding to its call. “Ah, you haven’t seen him, have you?” 

… Yunobo? Link gives Revali a questioning look, but he shakes his head. Yunobo had been so reluctant. He can’t truly have intended to fight the Calamity, can he?

Daruk, however, doesn’t look too worried. “He probably went to Crenel Hills. He said he was going to destroy the bridges in Forest Park!”

Destroying the bridges on Forest Park Island would cut off access for the Guardians from the eastern and northern pillars. So that’s why the number of Guardian Stalkers has been so low. It’s brilliant in its simplicity.

Daruk hefts his Boulder Breaker over his shoulder. “Yunobo can take care of himself. Now, let me get some licks in before the princess gets back!”

Mipha left. Just Mipha.

It has taken her much longer than she would have liked to reach Vah Ruta. But the wounded in Hyrule Castle needed to be evacuated. And so, she first went to the castle, where Paya and the other Sheikah awaited them. Then, after dropping off Daruk, to Hateno, where Symin could look after those people too injured to continue the battle. That’s only three people so far, and Zelda hopes with all her heart that it will remain that way.

But finally, Vah Ruta.

Mipha is already waiting anxiously when they arrive, and she flutters around them as they enter Vah Ruta. 

“Is everything all right?” she asks. “I saw Vah Rudania… Did you experience any trouble coming here?”

“Had to drop off some people with Symin,” Purah says. “My assistant. But we’re all set to go!”

“Oh no, are they well?”

“They will recover,” Zelda tells her. It isn’t quite enough to reassure Mipha.

“And Link? Sidon? They’re— They’re fine?”

“They’re fine.” Zelda did not, in all honesty, pay much attention to Sidon. But Link surely would have let her know if anything was amiss. 

Daruk’s plan — or rather, Yunobo’s, as Daruk had been very keen on reiterating multiple times — has cut down Ganon’s forces dramatically. In her heart of hearts, Zelda had been much more afraid of the Guardians than the Calamity. Link has already proven that he can handle Ganon, after all; yet the Guardians have struck him down twice.

“Has Link called upon you?” she asks Mipha. She only got a brief glimpse of Link, not enough time to ask any questions. To her relief, Mipha shakes her head. 

“There has been no need.”

“Princess? We’re ready,” Robbie says, and Zelda doesn’t waste another moment. She feels the strain right away — she used more energy on Daruk than was probably wise. But the appearance of the Guardians had rattled her. 

It’s rattled Mipha too. She’s silent throughout the entire process, hands clasped in front of her stomach. Every so often, she leaves Vah Ruta entirely to catch another glimpse of the battle in Hyrule Field. She doesn’t share whatever she sees there. Zelda suspects that from this distance, she doesn’t actually see much of anything.

They’re all tense. Even Robbie and Purah, who don’t remember their first disastrous attempt, know enough about it to understand the urgency of the situation. But all of this will have been for naught if Zelda exhausts her powers and leaves the Calamity to rampage. 

At least Mipha is so much smaller than the other champions. It is a tremendous relief when their device finally indicates that she has been healed fully. All they need now is for Mipha to take her Grace back, and they can finally bring an end to all this. Already, they’ve decided that they won’t waste time once Mipha is back. They can come back for their equipment later. What matters is getting back to Hyrule Field as soon as possible and finally bringing an end to all this. 

“Can I…?” Mipha asks. She does not sound happy about it. Her Grace is Link’s very last line of defense, and while it will only be a matter of minutes before they can make their way to the battlefield, those very minutes might be crucial.

(Zelda tries very hard not to think about how she was mere minutes too late last time, about all the tiny things that took more time than they should have. She has replayed every single second of that battle already, in her thoughts and nightmares.)

“Yes, go ahead,” she tells Mipha, and tries to inject a confidence in her voice that she doesn’t feel. She watches with bated breath as Mipha concentrates, closing her eyes as the blue light of her gift begins to gather in front of her — and frowns, before she drops her arms abruptly, practically pushing her own gift away.

“Mipha?” Zelda asks, a shiver of alarm running down her spine. “What’s wrong?”

Mipha gasps, bringing her hands to her chest again, her eyes very, very distant. It’s a look Zelda has seen before, on every champion, but most recently Daruk. It means — 

Zelda feels the blood drain from her face.

“Link! Is he — Did he —”

 If they took Mipha’s gift when Link needed it, then all of this was for nothing, then she has failed him again at the worst possible moment. 

“He’s — He’s fine, it’s fine,” Mipha gasps, hands still clutched to her chest. “He pulled back, I was in time. I thought…” 

If they’d been a single minute faster, if Link had needed Mipha’s Grace and hadn’t been able to reach her…

They wouldn’t even have known until they got to Hyrule Field. 

Zelda tries to calm the racing of her heart. Mipha slowly, almost clumsily, lowers her arms again.

“All right,” she says to herself, and then repeats, “All right.” Her eyes snap to Zelda’s. “I can’t lend him my Grace anymore now. Let’s do it.”

No, a part of Zelda says, but Mipha is right. Link has no use for Grace now. She nods, tense, as Mipha gathers the light of her gift again and brings it to her.

It’s time.

The one thing Link hadn’t counted on was running out of weapons.

Sure, he doesn’t have the Sheikah Slate on him, but Cherry can spit out new weapons almost indefinitely. There are still plenty of Skywatchers making their way to Hyrule Field, only to be shot down by the Rito. 

But the loss of over half of its forces has made the Calamity furious, and it blocks their access to Central Tower at every turn. Already, most of the melee fighters have had to fall back, and Revali has switched to his trusty bomb arrows, leaving the Ancient Arrows to the other Rito.

The Ancient Weapons might do some damage, but they are nowhere near as effective as Zelda’s Bow of Light. Fortunately, the Dark Beast makes no effort to get away from them. If it chose to rampage through Hyrule, they would not be able to keep up with it.

The familiar exhaustion has settled deep in his bones. Link tags out with Bazz, who ducks around the side of the Dark Beast and attempts to stab it with his spear, to no avail. The malice swathing the beast is too strong for him to get through.

He throws his spear instead. If it does any damage, Link wouldn’t be able to tell. It merely leaves Bazz without a spear. 

When Bazz pulls back, Link charges in, ignoring the strain in his arms. The Dark Beast swipes at him, but Link dodges its tusks and lands an arrow between its eyes. 

Momentarily blinded, the Dark Beast turns, rampaging at the closest thing it can find — Bertri. Fear grips cold around Link’s heart. She won’t survive a direct attack from the Dark Beast. He rushes forward even as she raises her spear and shoulders her out of the way. 

Ganon’s tusks slash at him, ripping through his Champion’s tunic and tearing open the skin underneath. The pain of it slices through him. Someone’s shouting, many people are shouting, but he’ll be fine, he still has —

Grace slips from his grasp.

He holds onto it with all his might, wrapping an arm around his chest as if that will prevent it from leaving him. He can’t — Not now —

And Grace slams back into him, anchoring in the space below his heart. Mipha appears before him moments later, eyes wide and frantic.

“Link, I’m sorry, I —”

Whatever else she wants to say gets lost as Grace takes effect, erasing the pain in his side as well as the screaming of his aching muscles. Bertri pulls him upright and out of the Calamity’s path. Daruk is with them seconds later, shielding them both from Ganon’s retaliatory attack. 

“You okay, buddy?” he shouts. Link gestures okay, and unfolds the paraglider to get out of the Dark Beast’s reach as Bertri is evacuated by Buliara.

“Have you gone mad?!”

Ah. Link smiles lopsidedly at Revali and tries to shrug, a difficult endeavor with the paraglider. That familiar tug starts up again. The last of the champions’ gifts. He can’t use it anymore now, not when Mipha would have needed to regain her energy anyway. Let it go back to its owner.

Revali opens his beak, eyes tightening to knifepoint, but Link interrupts what was undoubtedly going to be quite a creative diatribe: “Mipha’s almost back!”

Revali’s beak shuts abruptly. He gives Link an angry look, but tilts away from the Dark Beast, presumably to spread the word. Link himself veers off towards Sidon, landing into a crouch. 

“She’s almost back,” he tells Sidon. Sidon’s eyes grow wide; in them, Link sees the little Zora running after his sister again. 

“You’re certain?” he asks. Link smiles and nods.

“Then I will get everyone ready. Thank you, Link,” Sidon says, and it sounds much more sincere than the simple message warrants. Link gets it. They’re so close.

Link?

“I know,” Link says out loud, trying to project the message all the way to Vah Ruta. Mipha is back. Once Vah Ruta fires, this will all be over. He waves at Buliara, who understands right away, and shouts orders at the other Gerudo. In the far distance, the towering form of Vah Ruta begins to glow. 

But the Calamity has not forgotten — and while Vah Rudania’s attack was not aimed at it, Vah Ruta presents an immediate danger. It halts, head turned towards the Divine Beast.

Vah Ruta fires. 

And Ganon moves.

Even as Link runs towards it, even as Urbosa calls upon her lightning, he already knows they’re too late: the Calamity is going to dodge. Vah Ruta’s attack will go to waste. 

Bomb arrows impact against Ganon's flank. The resulting explosion is just enough to make it stumble, preventing its escape. The roar of Vah Ruta's attack strikes true — 

And Revali, so tiny compared to the hulking Beast, comes crashing down on the ground. 

Link is running before he realizes it. Overhead, Teba and Saki abandon their positions as well. They converge on the spot where Revali went down, Teba picking off stray Guardians so that Saki and Link can reach him. He's already struggling upright, clutching at his left wing. Saki lands and supports him.

Link's relief at seeing him alive — just stupid — doesn't overcome that jolt of fear. *"Have you gone mad?!" he screeches, far louder than he thought he was capable of. 

Revali’s look is pained, but triumphant. "I got it, didn't I?" 

"Master Revali — " Saki begins, admonishing; but she is cut off by the Dark Beast's agonized shriek. Vah Ruta's attack did more damage than any of their weapons ever could have. It looks truly wounded now.

It's desperate, and furious, and that makes it more dangerous than ever. Ganon turns, and the Gerudo scatter as it charges towards them.

"Go," Saki says, starting to pull Revali away from the battlefield. Link swallows. He charges back in.

The Gerudo have all evaded the Beast, and it screeches again, casting around for a new target. Turning again, blinded by pain and hate, it finds Rivan and Dunma retreating.

 Sidon intercepts it, thrusting the Lightscale Trident at the Beast’s leg — And the trident shatters, leaving Sidon defenseless as the Beast rounds on him.

Link breaks into a sprint. From the corner of his eye, he sees Daruk charging in too, desperately trying to get there, but they’re too far away, the distance is too great —

The Ceremonial Trident strikes true.

It shatters on impact, but it’s enough: Sidon rolls out of the way and, as he’s pulled away by Rivan, Link sees past him.

Mipha. Mipha and Zelda. They’re here, returned to the battlefield, still aglow with the Goddess’ power. 

And as Link watches — as everyone watches — Zelda’s power explodes from her in one final burst. It floods over the Dark Beast, then coalesces into a seal it is helpless to escape from. Screeching under the final wave of power, the Beast disappears. 

Ganon is gone. 

It’s over. 

Chapter Text

They’ve won. 

Zelda lowers her arms, dispelling the very last sliver of power still remaining to her. The Calamity has been sealed away. Everyone is still alive. They’ve won.

Mipha runs towards her brother and with that, all the noise that Zelda had shut out comes rushing back in. The battlefield is full of shouting, of confusion, of tentative cheers. With Ganon’s defeat, all the remaining Guardians have shut down. Something to deal with later. She will not let this become another Blatchery Plain.

After Vah Ruta’s attack, she had pushed the Sheikah Slate into Purah’s hands and brought herself and Mipha straight to the battlefield. A good thing too: Zelda had frozen upon seeing the Beast bearing down on Sidon, but Mipha had not. The trident she had demanded found its target. 

Now, Mipha has reached her brother and is fussing over him, hands aglow with her healing power. Sidon looks quite fine in Zelda’s opinion, merely tired. She goes in search of Link instead.

Link, who is… he’s fine, of course he’s fine, because Mipha brought him back from the brink of death mere minutes ago. But his tunic is torn open along his right side, blood soaked into the edges. So close. They were so close to yet another disaster. Just the very thought of Link dying again, of being unable to save him again, leaves her weak and shivering.

But he meets her eyes and detaches himself from the Zora milling around him. 

“They’re back,” she whispers when Link comes within earshot, reaching out to take his hands.

Link smiles brilliantly. “You did it.”

“We did it.”

They’ll only know for sure in five days, if she doesn’t wake up in the castle again. But she’s confident. This time, for sure. 

Silently, she squeezes Link’s hands and turns towards the castle. It cannot be recovered. It has sustained far too much damage. But it is still the place she grew up in, and still the place that served as her prison for over a century. She has loved it and hated it in turn; she doesn’t think these complicated feelings will ever fade.

Even with her gaze fixed on the castle, she almost misses sight of him: there, at the tower that once made up her study, a speck of blue-green stands out against the sunset sky. Zelda swallows hard, tears stinging at the corner of her eyes.

“Be well, Father,” she whispers.

Link looks at her and then at the castle, tightening his grip on her hand in a quiet gesture of comfort. Together they stand, watching until the spirit of her father becomes a shimmer in the air and then vanishes completely. Only then does she let go of Link and turn around.

Urbosa is there, and Daruk, watching them both with pride in their eyes. Mipha, meanwhile, seems satisfied that her brother is unharmed; she turns to the nearest group of fighters, enquiring after and healing any injuries that require immediate attention. She pauses to talk with a Gerudo captain who points her in the direction of the Rito. They have formed a cluster around Revali. He's seated but looks quite displeased about it, and is having a dispute with Teba and Saki that comes to an abrupt halt when Mipha reaches them.

Link heads in their direction, a worried set to his mouth. 

Reluctantly, Zelda follows — Revali does look worse for wear, feathers rumpled and relying on Saki to keep him upright. Teba says something that makes Revali scowl, but after an imploring look from Mipha, he deigns to let her check him over.

Mipha moves her hand, aglow with Grace, from his leg to his wing; she gasps.

“Oh, Revali! Is this…?”

Link speeds up. Daruk and Urbosa start moving closer as well, and Revali grimaces now that everyone's focus is squarely on him.

“There’s nothing you can do about it, so don’t bother.”

“About what?” Link asks, a sharp edge to his words. Revali meets his eyes for just a moment, then abruptly looks away. 

He won’t explain, Zelda thinks. He’s never been one to explain anything. But Revali surprises her: he reluctantly lifts his left wing, parting the feathers. Link lets out a distraught noise, and Zelda leans closer against her better judgment.

There, in the middle of Revali’s wing, right in the meat of it, lies a circular scar that goes all the way through, large enough that it must affect his flight. Revali hastens to brush the feathers back into place, ignoring Teba’s reproachful, “Master Revali.”

“And you didn’t want Harth to fight?” Link asks, that same edge still to his voice. Teba goes quietly alert. Revali shrugs, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“He could have died. I would have come back.”

It’s Link’s reasoning word for word, and Link seems to realize it too, because he makes a choked-off noise, hands fluttering over Revali’s wing and coming to touch the feathers that cover the damage. 

“Don’t do that again,” he whispers, smoothing the feathers out. 

Revali goes very still.

“Don’t give me a reason to,” he replies, staring at where Link is touching his wing. Zelda gets the abrupt feeling that she shouldn’t be here and doesn’t particularly want to be here either.

“Could you help me look for Yunobo?” Daruk asks, gently drawing her away. Zelda grabs onto the excuse with both hands.

“Of course! … Is he not here?”

Daruk shakes his head. “At Crenel Hills, I’m sure.”

Despite his wide smile, there’s a strain to the corners of his eyes. Zelda looks around, spotting Purah and Robbie coming up in the distance, and goes to meet them halfway.

“Could we borrow the Sheikah Slate, please?”

“Will you ever let me keep it?” Purah complains, but she hands over the Sheikah Slate easily. “Going somewhere?”

“Just picking up my grandkid!” Daruk says, smile still just a little too wide. 

Purah waves them off. “We’ll see you soon, then! Ah, that’s gotta be my grandniece over there!”

Zelda spares a prayer for Paya as she looks for a shrine near Crenel Hills — and finds one, fortunately. It is hidden away, she learns when she and Daruk arrive, giving them no clear view of their surroundings until they emerge from the crevasse. The hills themselves are quite silent, with only the skittering of now-harmless monsters in the distance. No sign of Yunobo.

Worry makes Daruk’s steps speed up, until Zelda needs to jog to keep up with him.

“Yunobo?” he shouts, voice booming across the hills. For several seconds, there is only silence, and the sound of Lizalfos scampering away when they jog down the path. Then, from far down, comes Yunobo’s voice.

“Over here!” 

Daruk visibly slumps in relief. He picks up speed as they crest the hill towards Yunobo.

The road to Thims Bridge is littered with broken-down Guardians. And between them, shaken but unharmed, is Yunobo, wielding a smaller version of Daruk’s Boulder Breaker.

“Are you alright?” Daruk asks urgently as soon as they are within earshot. Yunobo nods, giving him a tentative smile. He glances at Zelda, abashed, and then at Daruk again.

“What happened?” Zelda asks, eyeing the husks of the Guardians. While some look like they deactivated upon Ganon’s defeat, many were clearly destroyed before that.

“I wanted to go back to the city, but then I got here and all these Guardians were coming to the bridge? I couldn’t really get close enough to destroy it as well, and I didn’t know if there was anyone left in Wetland Stable, so,” Yunobo shrugs. “I figured I might as well stay here. Their shots rebounded when I used Protection, y’see.”

He smiles, still a little abashed, despite taking out more Guardians single-handedly than most people will ever see in their life. “Did it help?”

“You’ve saved people’s lives out there,” Zelda tells him. She never would have expected this from the Goron she met a month ago. But then again, Daruk hadn’t had any doubts, had he? 

“Aw, it was mostly Rudania,” Yunobo replies.

“But it was your plan!” Daruk thumps him on the back with a wide grin. Yunobo, unlike most, has no trouble staying upright. “We’ve got everyone at Hyrule Field, wanna join us? They’ll be happy to see you!” 

Yunobo looks at Thims Bridge and beyond, up at Death Mountain. But then, with a quietly determined smile, he nods. 

A kind of elated exhaustion blankets Windvane Meadow when they return, their allies all clustered together and disinclined to move. A few people call and cheer when Zelda reappears with Daruk and Yunobo, and Zelda waves in response, entirely too conscious of the tattered dress she is still wearing.

The sun is already setting, darkness creeping in from beyond Dueling Peaks. By all rights, she should thank people for their help, make plans for the days to come and set about getting everyone home. But this, everyone exhausted but alive, together, how can she bear breaking that up?

Daruk seeks out Link, who has thankfully prised himself away from Revali, and excitedly begins relating Yunobo’s adventures, booming voice already drawing a crowd. Link grins widely and talks to Yunobo, who is slowly getting into the swing of telling his own story, gestures growing to match those of his grandparent’s.

Zelda is happy to watch it from afar, but her own solitude doesn’t last long. It is Paya who approaches her, having escaped her great-aunt. She’s accompanied by one of the other Sheikah… Dorian, if memory serves her right.

“Your Highness? Um, I’m Paya, I’m —"

“Impa’s granddaughter, I’m aware. You do resemble her very much.” Zelda smiles warmly. Seeing Paya is always a strange experience, like watching Impa brought forward in time. “Thank you for all your help.”

Paya fumbles, eyes darting from side to side. “It was our pleasure, Your Highness. By your leave, I would report back to my grandmother. She is anxiously awaiting news.”

Zelda suppresses a grimace at the formal address. She does not want to be an unreachable figure, least of all to the people who fought with them. But Paya has always been flustered in her and Link’s presence. She can only hope it will improve with time.

“I will join you,” says Dorian, eyes fixed on some of the Gerudo nearby. “I wish to see my children.”

“You are of course welcome to stay!” Zelda hastens to say, “… But I would appreciate it nonetheless. Please give Impa my regards when you see her.”

“Certainly, Your Highness,” Paya says. She looks relieved to be free of the conversation, and she and Dorian disappear soon afterwards.

But aside from them, no one looks eager to leave. They will, eventually. Like Paya and Dorian, they have homes to return to, families to reassure. Months ago, the first time they defeated the Calamity, Zelda had no idea where to go. Now, at least, she isn’t alone anymore.

With everyone’s attention squarely on Yunobo and Daruk, Link sneaks away and finds her again. He’s smiling, eyes bright and a flush high on his cheeks from the lingering excitement.

“We’re making food,” he says. “Can I have the Sheikah Slate?”

Zelda gladly hands it over. She feels absolutely no shame in admitting to her complete lack of cooking ability, and she will happily eat anything that Link makes. The reminder has her take notice of the hunger gnawing at her stomach. She hasn’t eaten since leaving the castle, so she eagerly watches as Link starts pulling wood from the slate. He’s quickly joined by several others, helping him in building enough campfires to make food for so many people.

Zelda stays back. She’d only get in the way. Mipha, along with Urbosa and the young Chief Riju, clearly had the same idea, for they beckon her over. From what Zelda remembers of Urbosa’s cooking skills, that is probably a wise decision.

“Let me introduce you,” Mipha says, pulling them towards the Zora. “Have you met our Captain of the Guard? He and Link used to play together as children!”

Which is how she meets the Big Bad Bazz Brigade and its members Rivan, who is helping Link along with his daughter, and Gaddison, in the middle of a very vigorous discussion with a Gerudo who Riju identifies as Reeza.

Bazz greets Zelda with enthusiasm, and is delighted to see Riju.

“I must thank you for saving our lives. Your courage is impressive, facing down the Calamity as you did!” he praises her. “Would you like to join our troop? We could always use new members, especially,” he raises his voice, “since our fourth member keeps disappearing!”

At the campfire, Link laughs and raises a hand full of mushrooms.

Riju giggles. “I cannot promise I will be any more present than Link, but I would be delighted to visit Zora’s Domain.”

Zelda sits back, happy to let the conversation wash over her. She garners plenty of curious looks, but her obvious exhaustion and the presence of Urbosa by her side are enough to deter any questions. A little ways away, Mazli is espousing about a dragon he once saw with Link to an indulgent Teba and a less-than-enthusiastic Revali. All around her, people are talking, laughing, happy to be alive.

Soon, she will go out, unite Hyrule and forge bonds with all these people. Soon, but not today. Today they’ll rest, today she’ll return all the champions home.

She’s had ample time to develop her plans for Hyrule, but whether she’ll actually be able to put those plans in motion…?

It will be five more days until she can be sure.

They go back to Hateno.

Link and Zelda do, anyway, after bringing Mipha to care for the wounded in Purah’s lab and then taking everyone home. Although it hurts to let them out of their sight, the champions all have people to return to. If all goes right, they will have plenty more time to catch up later. If it goes wrong, they will at least have these stolen moments to keep them going.

(If it goes wrong, then… then Link has no idea what else to try.)

But Hateno, for now, is quiet. News will spread soon enough, but in the early hours of morning, there is no one to see two Hylians stumble into the old house on the edge of the village.

Zelda, exhausted, falls asleep right away. But Link lies awake, staring out of the window and contemplating the days ahead. 

Already, he misses the champions. Already, he fears the sight of them returned was nothing but a mirage. His hands itch for the Sheikah Slate. It would be a matter of seconds to find them, to see them again… But they promised, all of them, to find Link and Zelda again before the end of the fifth day. They’re finally reunited with their people without the weight of Link’s own death hanging over them. They deserve that time.

Link lets his head fall back onto the bedroll. They’ll need another, proper bed if Zelda intends to stay here often. But until they can be certain that Hylia has released them from this cycle, such a thing feels foolish at best.

He thinks he sleeps, in the end, even though the battle repeats behind his eyelids whenever he closes them. Riju taking the hit for the Zora, Revali attacking the Calamity, Sidon nearly dying… So many things could have gone wrong. But they’re all still here. All alive. Even the gravest wounds were no match for Mipha’s power. 

The Calamity has been defeated. And the champions have survived.

When Link next opens his eyes, it is well into the morning and the distant sounds of Hateno’s market filter in through the open window. He braces himself for the soreness he’s become used to, but Mipha’s last-minute aid has erased all the exhaustion of the battle. 

Zelda is still fast asleep, and Link won’t be the one to wake her up. He smiles fondly at her sprawled form. She, more than anyone, deserves her rest.

He writes her a note and leaves it on his desk. The Sheikah Slate still has plenty of food in it — strictly speaking, he doesn't need to go to the market — but he's struck with the sudden urge to see the village for himself, to check just how far word of Ganon's defeat has spread.

The market is bustling, already at its busiest time of the day. Link, who prefers the earliest hours of the morning when the crowds are still sparse, loiters near the edges of it. There are some faces he doesn't recognize among the milling crowds. Then, with a jolt, he realizes that he does recognize them: travelers he's often seen near Riverside or Wetland Stable, who must have heeded the rumors Kass spread and kept away from their usual routes. He's surprised to see them as far out as Hateno Village.

The villagers keep to their routines. If they are bothered by the newcomers, they don't show it.

Their concerns come instead in the small complaints: fish that the travelling merchants didn't bring, supplies that didn't go past the central plains. The Blood Moons: Koyin, whose sheep were once stolen by a gang of bokoblins, expresses worry. The old folk remember the times when the fields burned, and fear that those days are coming again. Even from Hateno, people saw the moment yesterday when evening turned into the threat of Malice, heavy across the mountains to the west.

They fear a danger that will never come. 

Link wishes he could put their minds at ease. Yet, selfishly, he wants to guard his and Zelda's peace just a little longer. 

They only get a brief respite, in the end. News of Ganon's defeat is spreading, and soon enough it reaches Hateno. Word of the returned princess and her lost knight follows hot on its heels, and Zelda, a newcomer in a village of people who have known each other all their lives, now sticks out like a sore thumb. For months, the people of Hateno have thought of Link as a travelling merchant, and Link has never seen the need to correct that impression. Now, even he comes under scrutiny. 

Soon, Zelda will reveal herself. But not yet. Not until they’re sure. So they find their refuge in the Ancient Laboratory instead. The lab is still mysterious enough that no one thinks to look for them there, and the Sheikah Slate makes for a convenient means of transportation.

Zelda has plans for the Sheikah Slate. With nothing else to prepare for, all her ideas are bubbling up. They are only just starting to uncover the secrets of the slate. She and Purah are fully intending to make another one.

But the original one, she has promised to return to Link.

It’s not entirely altruistic, she admits. The Sheikah Slate, found at the Shrine of Resurrection, belonged to the Hero of Legend. Only Link can use it to its fullest potential. So once Zelda has found everything she needs, Link will have the slate back.

Tarrey Town, he’s already decided. He’ll go to Tarrey Town, and then Lurelin Village. Places that were largely unaffected by Ganon’s influence, and therefore unaware of Zelda’s return. They will need someone to fill them in. And after that…. There are some islands across Lanayru Sea that he’s never been able to reach.

But today, he and Zelda are sitting outside, overlooking Hateno Bay. Link has the Sheikah Slate open in his lap and Zelda is pointing out shrines, asking about their location and any dangers nearby. Overly optimistic, maybe, but even if they haven’t yet escaped the loops, Zelda will still be able to use the knowledge at a later time.

“Sha Genma?” she asks. Link pictures the shrine, its location.

“There are Lynels there,” he says. “Many. I don’t think it’s safe.”

Or maybe it is? The Lynels always struck Link as far more intelligent than any other monster. Freed from Ganon’s malice, could they be reasoned with?

Better not risk it yet. Zelda crosses off the name. 

“Sheem Dagoze, then? It would be a good waypoint.”

“That’s fine.” Nothing more dangerous there than the atrocious weather of the Scablands.

“Hila Rao?”

“No.” Link shudders emphatically. His explanation is cut off by the sound of wings. A second’s hope fills his chest, to be replaced by a vague sense of disappointment when Kass lands in front of them. He’s happy to see Kass, of course. It’s just —

“I’m glad to have found you here,” Kass says before Link can think on that any further. He nods his head towards Zelda. “I am Kass, bard of the Rito. It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

“Likewise,” Zelda says, with a faint smile. 

“Thank you, for defeating the monster that plagued us. Everyone I’ve spoken to is relieved to be freed of its terror.”

“Did you come from Rito Village?” Link asks. Kass looks at him, faint amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I did. I was only briefly able to meet Master Revali before I set out, but I believe he was settling in well. I, however, thought it wise to… make sure the rumors were as accurate as the situation allows. The stable network is very good at spreading news, but not always proficient at verifying its truthfulness.”

“That is very kind,” Zelda says. “What rumors have spread?”

“The Calamity has been defeated, and the princess and the hero have returned, along with the champions.” Kass looks down the path at the village. “I did not let anyone know about your likely location; however, I imagine it won’t remain a secret for much longer.”

Zelda shakes her head. “That’s fine. We only need one more day. After that, I may need to rely on your help to spread the word properly.”

“I would be honored,” Kass says with a bright smile. “I would wait it out with you, if you don’t mind my company.”

Link shakes his head, patting the spot next to him. Kass folds himself down, remarkably graceful for a Rito his size.

“Ah, Link, Amali was asking about a recipe you learned in Lurelin?”

Link is woken not by the rising sun, nor by any sounds coming from Hateno, but by soft knocking on his door. He feels his way up to the window, frowning. No one would be so rude as to bother them in his own house, right? 

The knocking comes again, and Link squints out of the window into the darkness of pre-dawn. Two figures at his door: one small, and one much, much larger.

Ah.

He grins, ambling down the stairs and opening the door. 

“I apologize for waking you up so early,” says Mipha, “but we did not think it wise to be seen.”

Link steps aside, letting her and her brother inside. Sidon has to duck deep to clear the doorway. Up above, Zelda sits up, reaching for the lamp.

“Link?”

“Good morning, Zelda,” Mipha calls to her. “Please, do not get up on our behalf.”

“Oh, Mipha!” Zelda does get up. She stumbles towards the stairs, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “We didn’t expect you yet!”

“We traveled through the night,” Mipha says, her smile just this side of abashed. She’s exchanged her Champion’s sash, tattered and torn as it was, for a white one. Both she and Sidon are carrying Silverscale spears.

“Father was… quite unhappy upon our return. He did not want us to leave,” Sidon adds. Ah, so they got grounded. Link grins. It might take a while before King Dorephan forgives his children for the stunt they pulled.

“We had to sneak out. We swam down Afromsia Coast, then around to Hateno Bay.”

“And no one noticed you?” Zelda asks. Mipha and Sidon gain near-identical, mischievous smiles.

“If our Captain of the Guard was exhausted after battling the Calamity, surely no one could blame him,” Sidon says, and adds to Link, “He hopes you’ll come visit soon. As do we.”

He’d be happy to, as soon as King Dorephan won’t have him banished for dragging both of his children into battle again. Link gestures for them to sit down and rifles through his kitchen for a pot.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. But we caught some fish on the way!” Sidon tells him, happily presenting him with several fresh Porgy. Link quickly sets about skewering them. If it weren’t so early, he probably would have gone for something a little more elaborate, but he thinks Mipha and Sidon would prefer a quick meal after their all-night swim. 

“We promised we’d come to see you,” Mipha says, after they’ve eaten and Sidon and Zelda are both dozing off again. Zelda snaps to attention. “Especially since today…  Today is the last day…”

Link nods. Having Mipha here so early is a welcome surprise, but he can’t help but hope, wonder… He glances at the Sheikah Slate. 

Mipha follows his eyes. “They’ll be here soon,” she says, reaching out a small hand to pat his. “I’m sure of it.”

She’s right.

Only a few hours later, when they have moved out to the garden, Link hears the sound of wings again. He looks up, expecting Kass, and can only grin helplessly when it’s Revali who touches down instead. He stumbles upon landing but recovers before Link can get up.

“Took you long enough,” Link teases. Revali glances at Mipha and Sidon and huffs.

“If I’d had my way, I would have been here last night. Someone insisted he needed sleep.”

That someone comes into view minutes later, when a harried-looking Teba lands as well.

“Master Revali,” he says, voice full of reproach. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard.”

“I am perfectly well-rested,” Revali insists. Teba exchanges a helpless look with Link, but doesn’t push the topic further. Instead, he exchanges greetings with Sidon and Mipha and Zelda. Link sneaks a furtive glance at Revali. He looks better than before, and much more like himself, even if he’s exchanged his armor, broken and worn down as it was, for the much simpler daily wear of the Rito. His tattered scarf is gone, but the blue strip still adorns his Great Eagle Bow. 

Link is relieved to see him looking genuinely well.

It is a pleasant day, and they spend it outside, sharing a meal much more sophisticated than skewered porgy at the pond in Link’s garden. Kass appears by mid-afternoon and spends some time updating them on all the rumors going around in the village and the rest of Hyrule.

But Urbosa and Daruk don’t appear, not even when afternoon edges towards evening. Zelda looks troubled, and Link feels that same unease in his gut. They don’t need to be here, of course. Whatever Hylia decides, it will happen regardless. But they promised. How can they face the end of the day without everyone here?

But finally, when the sun is already low in the sky, Daruk’s booming voice comes from the bridge, followed closely by Urbosa’s laughter. Zelda is up like a shot, and Link follows, a deep sense of relief suffusing his entire being. 

“Over here!” Zelda shouts, rounding the corner of the house. They’re greeted with the sight of not only Urbosa and Daruk, but also Riju and Yunobo.

“Here we are, little bird.” Urbosa smiles, accepting Zelda’s hug one-armed. She and Riju are leading horses by the reins. Link quickly takes them and brings them to his stable, removing their tack.

“We ran into each other at Dueling Peaks!” Daruk says. “I’d been showing Yunobo around a bit.”

“You are both very welcome to visit Gerudo Town!” Riju says. As they make their way towards the others, Link spots a few of Hateno’s villagers staring at them from the other side of the bridge. Urbosa notices them too; she grimaces.

“I must confess, we weren’t entirely inconspicuous entering the village. I doubt they will bother us, but nevertheless, I apologize.”

“Then perhaps we should move,” Zelda suggests, while Mipha and Revali come up to greet their fellow champions. Link agrees. He does not want to deal with his neighbors on one of the most important nights of his life.

“The lab, then?” he asks, already taking the Sheikah Slate. They’ve all kept the badges that connect them to the slate, except Kass, but there are plenty of spares remaining. 

Purah is outside when they appear at her lab. She appraises the group, grinning widely.

“And here I thought I was going to have to walk all the way down!” She ushers them to the back of the lab, overlooking the village, where the setting sun is casting everything into shades of copper and gold. “Well, since you’re all here anyway, wanna take a picture? I’ve been tinkering with the camera, it should look way better now!”

Oh. Link finds himself nodding vigorously. Yes, yes, that’s something he’s been wanting to do ever since Kass first handed him the picture on his wall, and every time he’s seen it since. 

“Yes, please,” Zelda says, with that same longing in her voice. Link holds out the Sheikah Slate to Purah, but Purah puts her hands on her hips.

“Nope,” she says, taking Link by surprise — he's never known Purah to turn down an opportunity to mess around with the Sheikah Slate. “This time I wanna be in it too! You all missed my birthday last week, you’ve got to make it up to me!”

 Link wonders how any of them were supposed to know, and whether the salvation of Hyrule counts as making it up to her. Knowing her, probably not.

“Then allow me,” Kass says. He accepts the Sheikah Slate from Link with open curiosity, while Purah ushers everyone together. Link finds himself wedged between Revali and Zelda, Riju crouched in front of him and Sidon and Daruk at his back. Revali is casting suspicious looks at Daruk, who grins widely.

“No tricks from me, brother!” he promises. With Purah perched on his shoulder, Link highly doubts that he would produce a repeat of last time, anyway. He smiles, wider than he’s remembered smiling in a long time. Zelda takes his arm to his left and Revali is a warm, soft press to his right. This is the picture he’s wanted for a long time.

They do not return to Hateno afterwards. Night falls quickly, but Link cannot bear to sleep now. He is wide awake, staring out into the dark of Necluda Sea.

He doesn’t realize it right away, not until he tears his eyes away from the distant waves, but… Revali’s gone. Link casts around, searching for blue in the dark, but all he finds is Teba dozing off and Kass engaged in a hushed conversation with Riju. Link gets up, quelling a moment of panic.

“Link?” Zelda asks. He tries to give her a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be right back.”

She doesn’t begrudge him his quiet, instead moving to sit with Mipha. Link wanders up to the edge of the cliff. Where does one find a wayward Rito? Revali has been out of sorts all afternoon, keeping to himself or only talking to Teba and Kass. But he wouldn’t have left, not after all the effort he made to get here. Neither would he have gone to the village. So where…?

Off the path to Hateno Bay, beyond a copse of trees, there’s a small pond. A bit of a walk on foot, but a matter of moments for someone with wings… Or a paraglider. 

He jumps, relishing in the feel of the paraglider catching his weight. In flight, he spots the familiar figure of Revali easily. He’s sat at the edge of the pond, moodily staring at the fireflies. Link doesn’t bother hiding his approach, and Revali doesn’t stop him. 

“Hey.”

“And here I thought I’d be granted a moment’s peace,” Revali says. He crosses his wings, but he obligingly makes room for Link to sit down. It’s strange. They’ve spent so much time together on Medoh’s spire, but never with Revali so tangible next to him, a solid warmth, feathers ruffling in the evening breeze.

“How’s your wing?”

Not the best topic, probably, but Link still remembers how out of sorts he’s been all day. More, he still vividly remembers him crashing into the ground after attacking Ganon. Revali’s grip on his wing tightens; he sniffs. 

“It’s fine. Don’t concern yourself with it.”

As if Link could ever do that. He waits. Either Revali can’t see his expression, or he’s choosing to ignore it, but Link has gained enough patience to outlast him.

“... It healed improperly. The princess' technology fixed the rest, but it clearly didn't register a problem with this.”

“Does it hurt?”

“There’s nothing to hurt anymore,” Revali says, and Link also hears what he isn’t saying: There’s nothing left to heal anymore. The damage Windblight Ganon inflicted will never disappear. For Revali, who loves his flight so much… Link’s paraglider, if destroyed, could be repaired. But a wing is a different matter altogether. He’s seen Revali fly. He’s seen Revali shoot. But he’s also seen Revali stumble upon landing. No wonder Teba insisted on accompanying him to Hateno.

“I can fly. I can use my Gale. I’ll figure out the rest.”

“The Rito will help.”

“Of course,” Revali replies, but there’s something so entirely fragile to his voice that Link wants to reach out. He shifts closer; Revali lets him. 

“I didn’t go to the village, last time,” he continues after a moment of brittle silence. Last time, for Revali, was the cycle that got ruined by Link’s death. The one that no one wants to talk about. But Revali had met Teba then, and Saki and Harth. If he really hadn’t been in the village, then where had he stayed? 

Revali turns his head. Link can see him squinting, but this far down from the lab, only the moon and the fireflies provide any kind of light. “I cannot complain, I suppose. They have been more than welcoming. Not that they would have been anything else to Master Revali.”

There it is again, that bitterness. Fortunately, it is easy enough to waylay. 

“Teba worries about you. He’s seen what such an injury can do.”

Revali visibly startles. “He— I don’t need to be coddled,” he says, so mulishly that Link can’t help but laugh. 

“I could talk to them, if you want.” Not that it would ever be needed, but perhaps it will help put Revali’s mind at ease.

“What point would that be?” Revali says, and Link shrugs. “Besides, I imagine the princess will not let you stray from her side again.”

He refuses to look Link’s way, something so deeply resigned in his voice that Link cannot let it stand.

“I’m not staying,” he says. Not once Zelda is done with the Sheikah Slate, and she’s found a solid base of operations.

Revali makes an incredulous noise. “And the princess is aware of that?”

“She knows. She’s fine with it.”

“And where are you going?”

Link shrugs. Everywhere. Nowhere. Wherever his mood strikes him. There was a time Revali traveled along with him, if only in spirit. He thinks he’d like that again, but Revali’s longing for Rito Village is so obvious that he can’t bring himself to ask. Maybe later. If they see the sun rise tomorrow, they’ll have all the time they want.

“Well, at least pass by Rito Village. Or the kids will miss you.”

He’s a tense line against Link’s side, but he hasn’t moved away yet, and maybe that’s what gives Link the courage for his next question.

“How about you?”

Revali goes still for a very long moment, assiduously avoiding his eyes. Then he lets out a slow breath.

“Yes, I suppose I would too.”

Link leans back on his hands, looking up at the darkened sky and the stars dotting it.

“Then I guess I’ll find the time.”

They find their way back up to the lab eventually; this close to midnight, there’s no way that Link wants to be away from the others. But the later the hour grows, the more palpable the tension becomes. Daruk and Sidon both make half-hearted attempts at breaking the silence, but any conversation quickly peters out again.

Link finds himself sitting with his back to the wall of the lab, the Sheikah Slate open on his lap with the picture Kass took facing him. 

He looks happy in it. Happiness stopped being a strange sensation during the year he spent traveling, but it is such a marked difference from the picture on his wall, from the Link who could only ever be content at best. 

“I wished for this,” Zelda says softly, sitting down next to him. Her gaze is fixed on the picture. In the light of their campfire, her eyes look glassy. “That first time, when we were in Hateno. I thought everyone was gone, and I just wanted us to be together again.”

“So did I.”

He remembers, vividly, thinking of that picture on his wall. Remembers wishing they could all be back together. Zelda lets out a pained laugh.

“Maz Koshia said that to me, you know. ‘A shared wish’. I do wonder… Could we have worked this out sooner, if the Goddess weren’t so unwilling to speak to me?”

Link shakes his head. “We worked it out anyway,” he says. What do the whims of the Goddess matter now, when they have everyone with them again? So long as he finally gets to see the sunrise of tomorrow, he does not need Her intervention ever again. 

“We did, didn’t we?” Zelda smiles, and Link is glad to see that the old hurt seems to have evaporated for the time being. It is very close to midnight now, the moon and the stars the only spots of light in the all-encompassing darkness.

He fights every suggestion of sleep, terrified that each time his head nods forward is a herald of that preternatural sense of fatigue sneaking up on him again. When midnight finally strikes, he takes Zelda’s hand and squeezes. 

It should be over now, right? But dawn is still so far away. He needs to be sure. He needs to see… 

It feels like an eternity, Zelda tense next to him and the champions all huddled around them, a silent waiting game. But finally, finally, there is the sun.

It crests the far horizon, the first rays hitting Link like a revelation. Zelda lets out a dry sob, her hand clutching his to the point of pain. 

“It’s morning,” he allows himself to say, and Zelda echoes his words. It’s over. Dawn has come and they’re all here, all of them awash in the hope of a new day.

They’re finally free.