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The night was young but hardly still. The weary sun had just dipped behind the horizon and summoned forth the eager nightlife. Restless crickets pulled themselves from the chilled earth to chirp their song and buzzing fireflies illuminated the tall grass with their flickering abdomens. The diurnal critters ceased their foraging alongside the setting sun and allowed the hooting owls and croaking frogs to rise with the gleaming moon. The grand round beacon rose tall and ornamented the sky, signaling both the end and beginning of its timeless lunar cycle. The bobbing lanterns weaving through the grass offered vague guidance for the solitary boots trudging through the whispering blades.
No horse hooves had met Hyrule’s Great Plateau in some time. Truly, no visitors outside the plateau had occupied it in some time. Jagged cliffs kept Hyrule’s birthplace an isolated ecosystem from the rest of the kingdom, though the plateau had not always been so removed from the rest of the kingdom. A massive stairwell once provided a direct pathway through the high cliffs, but at some point in time this had crumbled beyond simple repair and collapsed into itself. Now any journey into the Great Plateau required deliberate effort and fortitude, both of which were not foreign concepts to its sole adventurer hiking up its slopes.
The air was crisp but not frigid; a small campfire would suffice for warmth and the intended destination contained a sufficient source of wood and flint. Not that the boyish hero lacked in supplies like he had when he first stepped foot out onto the precipice extending towards Hyrule Castle’s foreboding umbra. The imposing structure had felt so distant then, shrouded in mystique and evoking a sense of familiarity and curiosity throughout his journey. And until now, it felt wholly unapproachable.
Sure, he did not perceive the castle as the impenetrable fortress quite like he had when freshly resurrected, and he galloped across Hyrule Field between destinations with relaxed shoulders and a little more leisure nowadays. But now that the side quests had dwindled and the diverging paths all converged into one single road forward, the castle’s towering spires brought about a different kind of uncertainty. It felt like the finale to this journey required a level of steadfastness and introspection that he was not entirely confident in.
On this very same plateau, without memory or experience to fall back to as he emerged from the Shrine of Resurrection, he had found guidance and revelation. Perhaps he could find it once more while settled at the edge of the overhang crouched beside crackling flames. Their fiery tongues gently lapped up into the air and sent embers over the cliff side towards the beckoning structure centered against the horizon. Impossibly blue eyes studied the snaking malice enveloping the castle, and he wondered how it might have felt to gaze upon it as he was one hundred years prior, before it became the dreary ruin it is now.
Princess Zelda’s former attendant, Impa, had instructed him to seek out triggers for his past memories. She had handed over the mysterious Sheikah Slate and pointed out the old photos still contained within the device, insisting that finding the locations pictured would bring forth at least a sense of familiarity for him if nothing else.
And she had been correct.
Each location flooded his mind with images of a life that felt so distant now. He now knew that he had been present by Princess Zelda’s side when she snapped these photos using the Slate’s enigmatic technology. He had been by her side a great deal outside those photos too; much to her dismay, he had been assigned as her knight attendant. Even from his fuzzy recollection, he could quickly parse out that the princess was not immediately impressed by her forced companion. She saw him as a juxtaposition to herself—confident and resolute in the destiny he had been assigned the day he pulled the Master Sword. Perfectly settled into his role without fear, doubt, or flaw.
But that was not correct.
Or rather, that image back then was a façade and his presentation to Princess Zelda a misunderstanding. The same destiny and its subsequent expectations weighed heavy on them both, they had simply carried it a little differently. She understood her purpose and desperately wanted to fulfill it, but her powers evaded her. The goddesses seemingly would not commune with their mortal sister.
And he seemingly stood now just as he did then: endlessly blessed and divinely guided, even if only vaguely. The Goddess Hylia never left his prayers unanswered, and his perseverance granted him extraordinary strength and vitality. Yet, despite his outward success, his role still evaded him in this second chance at life. Being a hero now felt equally as uncertain the second time around, and he feared that whatever it was he lacked would earn him the same tragic ending that befell them on Blatchery Plain.
When he saw Impa next, she had extended an arm towards a large painting on her wall depicting the grassy landscape. Now that he had found all that the Sheikah Slate offered him, she instructed him to this final place to witness his final moments. Her voice was resolute, as if this memory would tie-off his hero’s journey and lead him straight into an epic finale—the end to the Calamity and the beginning of Hyrule’s era of peace and renewal.
But it did not feel earned.
A degree of revelation or transformation typically preceded the end to a hero’s journey, but he didn’t feel as if he had acquired that. An atonement for past missteps was surely in order before taking on such a holy title he had previously proven himself unworthy of, but he had no concrete way to determine if he had properly achieved that either. He had freed his fellow Champions’ souls from the blights imprisoning them, but his friends aided him all the same now as they had one hundred years ago; they did not have much to show for their goodwill then, and without his victory they might never.
Hyrule’s Hero did not detour away from Blatchery Plain to entirely avoid the destiny which called him, but instead ensure that he wholly understood it this time. His defeat in battle was not unknown to him, but there was an anxiety filling his chest that told him that he could not yet comprehend its meaning. Witnessing it in his current state would be fruitless.
So he found himself back at the beginning—to his initial call to adventure, though he did not initially experience the Great Plateau under the rule of the moon. Nightfall brought the plateau alive in a whole new way, filling the air with a melody of chirps, trills, peents, and haunting calls, all of which gave a sense of reassurance that the setting sun was not an end but merely a transition into something different and no less beautiful. A night breeze caught the surrounding trees and swayed clusters of susurrating leaves into a gentle ambience. The ebb and flow of the night lulled him into a trance, so much so that he did not hear the quiet rustling of grass bending around boots that trekked up the hill to reach him.
“Greetings, fellow traveler!” an unfamiliar voice called out enthusiastically.
The young hero startled from his daze and dropped the stick of tinder wood he’d unconsciously fidgeted between his fingers.
The stranger guffawed and casually plopped down beside him, lifting their gloved hands to warm them by the fire. “Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare ya! Don’t mind me, hope some company won’t disrupt you too much.”
Their form was mostly indistinguishable, hidden behind a heavy, hooded cloak that draped down to shadow their face. A bulky cowl was pulled up to their eyes, but even these were hard to distinguish in the dark of the night. This traveler’s ambiguity seemed so intentional that had they not acted so oddly chummy, they’d likely be categorized as a potential threat.
The stranger ever so slightly shifted their hood to peek over at the hero with one eye then quickly retreated behind the thick fabric once more. “Wow, it really is you! Hyrule’s Chosen Hero, here in the flesh, garbed in the blue prestige of our old royal family. You’ve made quite the name for yourself, Link, it’s an honor to share this campfire with you.”
The stranger cackled at Link’s flummoxed expression, but the comment had genuinely taken him by surprise; it was not often that Link was recognized in public nowadays, and the fact that this person seemed to have the idea that he was famous across Hyrule was curious.
“You’re not another ghost, are you? I haven’t been famous in quite some time” Link replied indifferently, but cautiously eyed the stranger from his peripherals. He still couldn’t be sure of their motives hiking around a secluded plateau. Though, if they were a ghost, he would not mind a second round of spectral guidance on Hyrule’s Great Plateau.
“A ghost?” The stranger gave themselves a quick pat down. “Not that I’m aware of!” They pointed a finger towards Link who had already returned his focus to the piece of tinder. “And don’t act naive! People might not know your face so much nowadays, but everyone still speaks of Hyrule’s Hero. Your return was anticipated, and rumor of your reappearance found the kingdom’s every corner! There isn’t a soul who doesn’t know of your existence in some way or another.”
“Hm.” Link gave them a small nod in acknowledgment. If this was a Yiga assassin, they would have undoubtedly revealed themselves by now. But if this stranger did not intend to kill him, then that meant he inevitably had to navigate a conversation with them. And unfortunately, this person was one of the few people who could put a name and title to Link’s face and intended to converse with him about it. He fought the urge to sigh and instead let the air slowly escape his lungs through his nose; his eyes drifted away from the tinder wood and back to the horizon in an attempt to refocus his meditation.
“So, what brings you out here?” the stranger inquired. They leaned in as if to match their line of site with Link’s. “Ah, the castle? Makes sense! They say Our Princess was swallowed whole by the beast of malice there to keep its full power at bay until the Chosen Hero’s return. So, is that your next stop, then? Gearing up for that final battle?”
“Ah, yeah, something like that…” he replied passively, hoping his disinterest would be perceptible. He didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to pretend to be a confident hero in front of this stranger either. Especially not now of all times.
Silence fell over them, though the cadence of the night still carried on. A whip-poor-will’s forlorn call rose above the chorus, solemn and persistent as it serenaded his brooding.
“Having doubts? That’s alright, you all had your doubts at some point in your journey.”
Link’s brow scrunched and he turned his head away from the looming castle to face the stranger.
“You all?” he inquired, unsure if he had heard them correctly. The stranger looked up from the fire and nodded.
“Yes, all of you! That’s an old spirit you have, you know? Shared by all the heroes before you. Different people, different adventures, but plenty of similarities. I’ve yet to see any one of you without a little bit of uncertainty!”
Link was baffled by their answer. They spoke so casually, as if they personally knew every hero of legend. If they weren’t lying about being a prodding ghost, then that meant he was likely speaking to someone entirely delusional—and he wasn’t sure which possibility was worse. Uncertain how to respond, he silently returned his attention to the horizon.
“So what’s your hang up? Strength? Preparation? Hmm…” The stranger looked him up and down with a pensive hand to their chin. “No, you’ve got the look, the sacred Master Sword, the warrior’s spirit—a different aesthetic, sure, but iconic nonetheless…”
“Uh…” Link fumbled for a generic answer to promptly quell his guest’s curiosity, but a quick glance over confirmed that they were already rummaging around in their cloak for something and clearly intended to prolong the conversation. They finally pulled out a map and brandished it before them.
“Covered every nook and cranny of Hyrule, I presume?”
“What?” Link leaned over to peer at their map but it quickly tilted out of his view.
“No cheating! You’ve upturned every suspicious stone, uncovered every hidden hole to find all secrets, sites, and wonders this kingdom has to offer to an eager adventurer? Perhaps deciphered a few hints or old tales to find them?”
“Well, I mean…maybe?” Link recalled his many ventures that often had led to him stumbling over a mischievous korok, an old chest stowed away in a grotto, or an unexpectedly scenic view while climbing up a mountainside. There was satisfaction in discovery, though flickers of old memories reminded him that he did not always do such in solitude. He had always accompanied someone close to him out in the wilds, all the way up until his tragic end…
He’d almost lost himself to the thought and had even leaned forward to rest his chin on one hand, but the stranger continued their interrogation:
“And in all that adventuring you’ve surely come across an array of monsters and enemies to hone your skills with all those weapons and knick-knacks you’ve picked up along the way?”
“Plenty of that, sure…” Most weapons fit familiarly into his hand thanks to his formal training decades prior, and between muscle memory and a little practice he found himself able to wield all kinds of swords, axes, and bows proficiently. The Sheikah Slate’s abilities, however, required quite a bit of trial and error. Sheikah technology had been Princess Zelda’s specialty and Link had little prior experience utilizing it—that fact was likely obvious to the shrine monks witnessing his pitiful efforts to earn their blessings.
“Mhm. Muddled through tedious riddles and mundane tasks for the sake of your fellow people?”
“If I was able to assist at the time, I never minded completing a favor or two...” Link confirmed with a nod. Some quests required a little more effort than others, and some were undoubtably more monotonous, but there was joy to be found in helping those in need. Whether it be as grand as taking down a moldura or as simple as collecting frogs for a Zora child, the scale of gratitude he received all seemed the same; Link smiled at the communities that welcomed him wholeheartedly even without the fancy titles of his past; then cringed at the thought of handing over a handful of crickets to a Hateno resident intending to woo the village’s unsuspecting innkeeper with the squirming insects.
The stranger dropped the map and raised both arms above their head victoriously.
“Sounds like a proper hero to me, as proper as any other! You’ve got nothing to worry about!”
Link let out a halfhearted laugh. “Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it…”
He pulled his attention away from the stranger beside him and brought it back to the castle sitting against the horizon. The distraction had been appreciated, but the gloomy sight allowed that same sense of dread to creep back in.
“What’s got you so worried, then?”
Link flinched at the sudden proximity of the stranger’s voice. They had leaned in quite close—so close, he could nearly make out their eyes shadowed by their bulky hood. Their persistence was unnerving, or perhaps it was their ability to sense his inauthenticity that troubled him more. He slid over to widen their distance and tried to minimize the shock contorting his face.
“It’s just…” He hesitated. It felt ridiculous pouring out his insecurities to someone whose nameless face he couldn’t even see, but their consistent earnestness offered an odd sense of reassurance. He swallowed and considered his words a little more sincerely. “…I had all of that before. And more. I was trained thoroughly. I was well aware of my title and the responsibilities it came with. Everyone knew the legends, knew about the impending Calamity, knew how it had been defeated in the past. On paper, there shouldn’t have been any reason for me to fail.”
The aftermath of his failure pulled his gaze back once more to rest on the murky towers in the distance. “But I did.” His fingers rolled the tinder wood between them one final time before tossing it to the flames. “And…even now, I don’t know why. I don’t know what to do differently this time.”
The stranger hummed in acknowledgement. “Understandable. You did everything by the book exactly as instructed by those who claimed they knew best. And yet…” The grass squeaked beneath their boots as they twisted around to face him fully. “So what motivates you? Back then, and now?”
Link wanted to respond immediately, but he couldn’t; the answer seemed obvious, and yet it didn’t quite settle confidently in his mind when he tried to grasp it firmly and put it into words. And he wondered if he had felt the same way so long ago when he likely had to state them before the Calamity as well:
“The safety and security of Hyrule and its people, of course.”
The stranger burst out into a hearty laugh and held their shaking chest. “That’s an expectation of your role, not a driving force! Of course you and every other citizen of Hyrule care about the safety of your fellow people, but not everyone becomes a hero to show that. Do you honestly believe that every hero before you operated without selfish motives? You were a simple person before you were a noble hero, and you still are one even when you embody the image of a hero. Be a little more honest with yourself!”
Link stalled much longer this time. He carefully filed through every snapshot and emotion he could recall from his life before the Calamity—what had motivated him then? Did he feel a sense of duty to protect a kingdom he served, or did he wish to save his beloved home—or perhaps even those he had grown closest to in his efforts to fulfill his lofty role? Had he chosen the wrong motivation befitting a noble hero, or perhaps even a simple person—had that been why they failed to fight back against the Calamity?
The stranger must have heard the pensive grinding of Link’s teeth and snapped him back into reality with a prodding finger against his chest. They chuckled under their breath and continued their commentary as Link swiveled his head away from the campfire’s dwindling flames to look their way:
“I will say that the previous heroes of legend started out a little differently than you did. There was no checklist handed to them to become a hero, that was something they had to find all on their own. But you weren’t allowed that chance back then, were you? You and the princess, you both were placed into some pretty rigid boxes to fit your destined roles. It’s hard to grow in there, isn’t it?”
The stranger promptly stood up and dusted themselves with both hands. Despite how stubbornly they had stuck around, they seemingly could prepare for departure just as freely.
“But, you didn’t do things by the book this time! And I think if you seek out that final memory you’re currently avoiding with that in mind, you’ll realize how different things turn out when you act in accordance to what you, the person that you are, believe is the right thing to do.”
With a jovial wave and a sincere “See you on your next journey, Link!” the stranger disappeared just as cryptically as they had came.
And now Link was once again left alone with his churning thoughts. He could feel his heart beat steadily against the chorus of the night; the tenacious whip-poor-will’s call sounded more and more like a hopeful omen with each successive chant.
As Link lifted his eyes to the horizon, this time, he felt the nagging cloud of uncertainty drift away. With his vision unhindered, he could gaze upon Hyrule Castle’s grand structure unobscured.
His heart was weighted with guilt for the demise of his fellow Champions—and friends. He could not change their fate, but he could still aid their spirits and allow them the chance to rest peacefully.
And he could not give Zelda back those one hundred years she waited for him. Nor could he erase the undeserved shame she endured before that. But he could free her from her stasis, and perhaps see her smile once more like she did when out on her research surveys; and allow her the chance to grow beyond that rigid box she had been assigned.
And if nothing else at all could come from his victory, then those alone felt like reason enough to face Calamity Ganon.
So Link, too, pushed himself up from the ground to brush the dirt from his Champion’s uniform. He readjusted his equipment to fit his standing position and used one boot to kick loose soil over the campfire’s flames. With the detailed map left behind by the mysterious visitor scooped up into one hand, he set his sites on Blatchery Plain and stepped out into the vibrant night with a clear sense of resolve.