Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue

It was difficult to remember the time before. Before his power was sealed. Before everything had gone disastrously wrong. Before his armies had razed the land of Hyrule. Before the land had been granted its extended reprieve. Before he was imprisoned in the land’s depths.

In the ancient past, long before the Sheikah developed their technology that mimicked divine power, long before the Calamity had been born of his malice, and prior even the construction of the castle atop his crypt had been built, the Demon King had waged a relentless campaign against Hyrule and her king. Triumph followed triumph, until treachery, not might, became his undoing.

However, his defeat had neither been conclusive nor without enormous cost. The fact that the kingdom of Hyrule had survived at all had been anything but certain—a testament to the strength of his conviction. The Demon King’s malice endured, his power contained but unyielding, a relentless current flowing through his veins.

And the seal, though strong, bore the weight of impermanence. It fractured, weakening further with every passing day. Though it had been countless millennia since the Demon King last felt sand under his feet and the sun's touch upon his brow, his influence persisted, leaving scars etched deep into the fabric of the land. Oceans surged, mountains sundered, and the very ground disgorged fire—an unequivocal testament to his power, even while he remained confined.

As eons slipped by, the demon’s power grew—an insidious miasma that strangled life wherever it seeped up from beneath the earth. Creatures lived and died. His minions, once feral beasts, became a cohesive force. Hope fled, replaced by discord and fear. An ominous pall seemed to hover over the land, filling all who walked the earth and flew in her skies with indefinable dread.

All the while, the Demon King, a creature of unwavering patience, waited. He did not despair the ages spent in captivity but anticipated his eventual counterstroke. He knew that each day that passed was a day nearer his ultimate prize. The time bought by Hyrule’s protectors approached its end, while his reckoning drew inexorably nearer. His power remained.

Within his emaciated chest, his heart still beat, consuming his limited senses with its rhythmic thumping. With each thud, his power ebbed and flowed in pools and swirling mists. Over the generations, that power had occasionally congealed, coalescing into something closer to a sentient being. Mere phantoms of the true King. They had each been defeated in time, and yet each time their raw, savage power had nearly brought the entire land of Hyrule to her knees.

If they could have, his blackened, cracked lips would have drawn up into a smile. If only the denizens of Hyrule could know the true threat—the power—that lay in wait beneath their feet. Very soon, the people who had scorned and opposed him would witness a true king’s revival and the birth of a new world.

The Demon King knew his captivity would soon come to an end.

For the time now approached that the seal on his power would fail. The ancient magic grew increasingly impotent with each passing moment. He waited with anticipation for the moment of his resurrection while, unbeknownst even to him, the two who would forever oppose him drew near.

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Darkness Beneath Hyrule

Zelda slept fitfully. Nightmares were nothing new for her, but her dreams as of late had a certain ethereal quality to them. They were full of dark, amorphous shapes, beings of light and power, and the sound of rushing wind. Over everything was an ominous pall—feelings of dread and hopelessness. Fear.

Such dreams were exceedingly rare in her life. In fact, there was truly only one period of her life that she could recall ever having such foreboding visions in her sleep, and that knowledge terrified her far more than the dreams themselves.

“Zelda…”

She had been younger and far more naïve when she’d had dreams like this in the past. She could remember waking alone in her room in Hyrule Castle, confused and scared, but quick to dismiss the dreams as products of stress. She hadn’t wanted to ponder their meaning then, concerned as she was about the coming Calamity.

“Zel…”

A century had passed since then. Though in body, she was still young, barely into her twenties, her mind was far older. She’d feared her dreams then, but now they truly and deeply unsettled her to the core. Thankfully, that wasn’t the only change in her life in the last century, however. After all, she no longer had to bear these nightmares alone.

“Zelda, wake up!”

A hand grabbed her shoulder, giving her a gentle but firm shake to rouse her. Zelda woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open, fingers briefly grasping at her bedroll before calming. Her eyes found Link’s blue eyes directly over hers, faintly illuminated by the soft blue light of luminous stone.

“Link, I—I’m okay.” Zelda reached up to place a hand on her husband’s, which remained on her shoulder. “Thank you for waking me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Link withdrew his hand, sitting back on his heels. He frowned at her as she sat up, reaching up to run her hand through her jaw-length blonde hair. Her brow was wet with sweat, and the loose tunic she wore to bed stuck uncomfortably to her back.

She had been sleeping on hard stone, her bedroll providing little cushion. The area around them was almost completely dark, save for the soft glow of the veins of luminous stones and the pale horns of their pack animal. She could faintly see the lights reflected off the thin stream of water they’d camped near, which had been a welcome sight, considering how deep underground they were.

She looked up, eyes searching the darkness overhead. The previous day, they’d emerged into this massive underground cavern. She had no idea how large it was or even where they were located, in terms of the land above. She couldn’t even make out the ceiling, save for the occasional enormous, low-hanging stalactite.

She shivered. The thought of being so far beneath the surface was… intimidating, to say the least. She desperately wished this foray into the depths of the land wasn’t quite so necessary.

Zelda finally turned to look at Link, who still sat on his heels, waiting for her to tell him of her nightmares. The sight of his concerned expression, coupled with his patience to wait for her to gather her thoughts, warmed her heart. How had she ever found this man’s quiet nature to be so infuriating?

“I had the dream again,” she said, exhaling heavily.

“The same one?”

She nodded. “The same, as far as I can remember.”

The dream was hazy in her mind, but she could recall watching from above as shadow covered the entire land like a thick cloud. There had been figures that moved within the shadow, but it had been far too dark to make out their details. Some had been smaller while others had been hulking and serpent-like.

In the center of the land, six beings of light stood, seemingly there to push back against the tide of darkness. They had seemed so very small in opposition to the shadow, and Zelda was not at all certain they could prevail. In fact, even as she’d watched, one of the figures seemed to be overcome by the shadow, their light all but snuffed out before she woke.

All the while, Zelda had heard a sound like rushing wind in her ears. She thought that the sound originated from the shadow blanketing the land, but she couldn’t be sure. It had seemed to come from all around her.

There had been other elements to the dream, as well, but these were less formed in her memory. Sounds of familiar laughter, deep and intimidating. Flashes of faces—some known and others unknown. And above all, that feeling of foreboding—the knowledge of something terrible approaching.

Zelda prayed to the goddess that she was wrong.

Link was silent for several seconds, and Zelda did not doubt that he was thinking the same thing that she was. If Calamity Ganon were to return now, a mere six years after they had sealed it away, then Hyrule would be woefully unprepared.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and calm. “We defeated the Calamity.” He reached over, laying his hand on the beautiful sword lying on the ground beside him. It was a masterwork of a weapon, with a scabbard of deep violet and gold inlay, a long, silver blade, and a purple, winged cross guard.

The Sword that Sealed the Darkness. The Sword of Evil’s Bane.

The Master Sword.

“If it has somehow returned, then we’ll defeat it again.”

She suspected that his words were more for her benefit, rather than spoken with true conviction. Knowing Link for as long as she had—and being married to the man for six years—she could tell when he was putting on his confident ‘hero’ mask. The fact that he had even retrieved the Master Sword from its resting place in the Lost Woods at all spoke volumes about his concerns. She chose not to challenge him, however, and before too long, Link rose and began to prepare their breakfast.

As he stoked a small campfire into being, using wood they’d brought along for their journey, Zelda dressed and walked down to the small stream, where their pack animal was lapping at the cool water. She reached out, placing a hand on the creature’s armored back, patting it appreciatively.

The dondon was a fascinating creature, one Zelda played a role in discovering—or rediscovering, really. During an expedition to Faron, while investigating rumors of Yiga activity, she and Link stumbled upon a hidden cave system. Inside, they encountered this gentle beast for the first time.

The dondon was nearly as tall as a horse but far bulkier, with thick leathery skin and bony armor along its back. Two massive horns reminiscent of an ox, though far thicker, extended out from each side of its head, and its large mouth also sported a pair of wide-set, vertical tusks.

She had never seen anything of its like. Link had initially prepared to defend her, but the creature seemed utterly disinterested in their presence. The beast had merely made a chuffing sort of sound before laboriously bending down to munch on a glowing luminous stone.

Zelda had been smitten by the giant animal ever since.

She still had no idea how dondons could somehow metabolize luminous stone, which not even Gorons would eat, nor how they somehow… produced various other kinds of gems from their bodies. Nor did Zelda know for sure how many dondons even still existed—thus far, she had only found six, present company included.

“Hey, Zel, come here,” Link said from behind her, and she turned around to face him. He was kneeling on the ground, holding something that she couldn’t quite make out in the dark cavern.

Frowning, she approached him. “What is it?” Link didn’t answer her verbally but instead stood and held out what appeared to be a small, wedge-shaped rock to her. She took it from him and knelt by the small fire to look at it in the light.

At first, she thought it was just a piece of broken stone. One side of it was rough and jagged, while the other side was relatively flat, though pockmarked with age. She was about to ask Link what he found so interesting about it when the realization snapped into place.

“Where did you find this? Could we have brought it with us from the surface somehow?”

Link pointed at a spot nearby. “I just found it lying over there. Kicked it, actually. It’s not a rock, is it?”

Zelda shook her head, looking back down at the small, jagged stone. Or, as she suspected, the broken piece of a brick. The flat side was a little too evenly smooth—it had clearly been cut, much like the massive stones that made up so much of Hyrule’s pre-Calamity buildings. Except that this brick appeared to be hundreds, if not a thousand feet beneath the surface, separated by miles of natural caves and caverns.

Their journey had begun in the bowels of the destroyed Hyrule Castle, in the secret, forbidden tunnels that even Hyrule’s royal family barely knew existed. The only reason she knew about them at all was because she’d come across a mention of them as a teenager while devouring history books in the castle library.

Those passages, which were referenced in the book with cryptic, almost mythical warnings, had extended below the castle, beneath even the deepest dungeon. She’d half-expected to find remnants of old Sheikah tech as they made their way down, but whether by design or accident, this hidden passage never intersected with old Sheikah facility under Hyrule Castle’s Sanctum.

However, the manmade passages had abruptly ended after leading under the castle’s foundations, giving way to the natural stone cave system that she and Link had followed ever since. It had been days since they last saw anything crafted by Hylians or otherwise. Their travels had taken them far deeper than Zelda had expected—deep enough that if they didn’t find something soon, they would need to turn back up to the surface or risk running out of provisions.

So how, in Hylia’s name, was there a brick here?

“And you’re sure that we didn’t bring it with us?” Zelda asked, continuing to look over the stone.

Link knelt beside her. “You and I both went through our packs before we left. And I can’t see how it would have ended up over here, when our packs are over there.” He nodded in the direction of their bedrolls.

“And it doesn’t look like the building materials primarily used in Hateno Village,” Zelda mused, feeling a spark of curiosity and excitement at the discovery. She stood quickly, nearly knocking Link over in the process, and walked purposefully over to their packs, retrieving an unlit torch. She lit it in the fire and looked expectantly at Link. “Come on! Let’s see if we can find out where it came from.”

Link grinned up at her, still not standing. “Maybe we could eat some breakfast first?”

“Oh.” Zelda considered the lit torch in her hand and then gave Link a sheepish smile. “Very well. After breakfast.” She went to dip the burning end of the torch in the stream.

Zelda stared at the bridge in awe, hand to her mouth as she took in the ancient structure that, by all accounts, should not have existed.

Illuminated by massive outcrops of luminous stone on the cavern walls around it, the arched bridge spanned a large chasm, at the bottom of which was a large, underground lake that Zelda suspected led to the very stream they camped by the previous night. The lake was fed by a waterfall somewhere in the distance, consumed by darkness, save for its roar.

The bridge, made with hewn stone blocks and held aloft by six large pillars, was topped by an iron railing on either side, though sections of it appeared to have rusted away with age. In fact, the entire bridge appeared… ancient. Moss grew up its support pillars, and she could see places where chunks of stone had fallen away, not only in the supports, but in the arch of the bridge itself. However, despite the age and deterioration, it still stood and appeared stable.

“Oh Hylia…” she whispered, eyes traveling over the dimly lit structure.

Link stepped up beside her, holding the dondon’s reins, looking at the bridge with equal awe and confusion. “How… Who made this?”

Zelda shook her head silently. She had no idea.

Their search for the source of the brick had led them deeper into the cavern, eventually leading them down a side passage that looped around and up a long incline that emerged into the cavern containing the bridge. There was a stone outcropping that jutted out from the wall, which formed a path all the way up to the bridge. Zelda stepped closer to the edge of the outcrop, eyeing the steep drop-off to the black waters below.

“Careful,” Link intoned, and Zelda complied, feeling her stomach leap at the sight of the drop. She was not nearly as accustomed to or comfortable with heights as Link. She would never, in all her life, understand that man’s enjoyment of rock climbing.

“Come on.” Zelda continued to walk up the incline towards the mouth of the bridge. As she approached, she became increasingly convinced that the bridge was not made by Hylian hands. It also clearly wasn’t of Goron or Zora origin, nor Sheikah. Yet it did bear a certain familiarity that she struggled to place. She couldn’t quite make out the reliefs on its surface from this distance, as dim as the light was.

However, as they approached, and the light of her torch cast shadows on the bridge, Zelda gasped, the torch nearly slipping from her fingers. “It’s the Zonai…”

Link stopped beside her, frowning as he looked at the bridge. “You think so?”

Zelda stepped forward, eyes on the bridge. She stepped up to the edge of the outcrop, now only a handful of steps from the bridge, and held out her torch to better illuminate it. Her eyes traveled over the stones that made up the pillars, studying them.

“It must be. Look—do these not look like the dragon statues in Faron? They’re not the same, but they bear many identical symbols. You see that rectangular spiral pattern there?”

Zelda’s heart raced with an excitement that she hadn’t felt in quite some time. The Zonai were an ancient race from antiquity, predating even the Calamity from 10,000 years prior, said to have come from the sky with divine power. Almost all information and lore about them had been lost to time, save for a few paltry ruins still bearing their symbols and carvings and plenty of conjecture by historians. Yet they had clearly once spread across the entirety of Hyrule, with their ruins being found in nearly every major region of Hyrule.

“Historians have long since contended that the Zonai were likely wiped out by some cataclysmic event before recorded history, but what if—” She looked back at Link, eyes wide. “What if they didn’t die out, but merely ventured underground? Link, we very well may be on the verge of discovering the truth of what happened to them!”

The disappearance of the Zonai was one of the mysteries that had long vexed Zelda. When she was a child, much of her interest had been turned toward ancient Sheikah technology, but it always bothered her that there was not just one, but two ancient civilizations in Hyrule that had seemingly been eradicated or irreparably changed with almost no facts about them preserved. The Sheikah were sparse enough, but the Zonai were a complete mystery.

She had been so curious about them that, after the Calamity was defeated, Zelda had organized a team of researchers to begin studying Zonai structures to see what could be gleaned from them. She hoped that, if nothing else, these modern researchers, some of whom had never even read many of the great historians from the pre-Calamity era, might bring fresh ideas and concepts that had been overlooked in the past. It was a small hope, yet the work had given Zelda a sense of purpose.

And now here she stood, at the mouth of an ancient Zonai bridge, shielded from discovery for thousands of years. In that moment, the cold dread she had been feeling for weeks evaporated. Her dreams, her fears, her worries—all eclipsed by the joy of this singular discovery. She looked back at Link, lips forming a broad grin.

“I must begin documenting this.” She held the torch out, and Link quickly took it without a word, allowing Zelda to pull the Purah Pad from her waist. The device, though a redesigned version of her old Sheikah Slate, did not have nearly all the same functions as the previous device. After the deactivation of all Sheikah technology three years prior, the Sheikah Slate had likewise ceased functioning entirely. Purah had built this new device herself, incorporating technology derived from the ancient Sheikah, but new all the same.

But while the Purah Pad lacked many of the more mystical abilities of the Sheikah Slate, like the ability to seemingly create matter from nothing or to freeze objects in stasis fields, Purah had managed to recreate one of Zelda’s most cherished features of her old device.

She turned on the tablet’s screen, navigating to the camera button. Once she pressed it, the screen briefly turned black before displaying, in perfect clarity, the bridge beyond it. The effect, though achieved through science and technology, still seemed magical to Zelda. Purah had once tried to explain it, but Zelda had not understood the science behind it at all.

She began to take pictures of the bridge, getting as many angles as she could. She zoomed the image in, greatly enhancing the clarity of some of the reliefs carved into it and muttered to herself as she snapped picture after picture.

“Oh, I wish Purah could have been here… She would have loved—”

“Zelda.” She felt Link’s hand take her arm in a firm grip, and she looked up from her Purah Pad to realize that she’d been stepping rather close to the edge of the outcrop. She felt that brief sensation of vertigo again as she looked down at the dark water below and immediately stepped back.

“You know, Link, one day, I shall let you retire as my protector.” She looked back at him and gave him a smile, and he responded in kind. She kissed his cheek and turned back to her investigation of the ancient bridge, though from a safer distance.

“Of all the things I might have expected to find here, an ancient Zonai structure was not one of them,” she said while kneeling on the bridge several minutes later. She held the chipped brick in her hand, examining it against the stone of the bridge. She wasn’t certain that the brick came from this bridge, but it was certainly made from the same material. “Incredible. But why would a race that supposedly came from the heavens make their home underground?”

“Do you think there could still be Zonai alive down here?” Link asked. He stood close by her, holding tightly to the dondon’s reins with one hand and holding the torch aloft with the other.

“Alive?” Zelda looked up at him and frowned. “No, I can’t imagine… Well, no. That would, perhaps, be too much to hope for.” She stood, gazing out over the arched bridge. “The construction used here was solid, which is likely why it has survived the millennia, but it has still clearly fallen into disrepair.”

“So you don’t think they’re somehow responsible for the… Gloom?”

Zelda felt her heart sink at the word. Gloom. It hadn’t been long at all since the word would have meant little to her, but the last few months had changed that. Now the mere word sent a spear of fear through her heart.

She supposed it had been about six months since she first heard rumors of the strange miasma that seeped up through the ground near Hyrule Castle. A reddish mist that rose up some nights at dusk, which sapped the energy from anyone who came in contact with it.

Initially, she merely chalked it up to superstition. Since the battle with Calamity Ganon six years ago, there had always been odd stories from travelers that ventured close to the castle. Stories of strange whispers on the wind or screams in the night. Shapeless forms that moved through the shadows or phantom lights in the castle windows. Ghost stories.

But when the rumors became reports from her research teams, she began to worry. The descriptions she received from them were far too close to that of Malice, the substance that had been born of Calamity Ganon’s evil power. It, too, had occasionally appeared as a red mist, especially near the castle, where the beast’s power had concentrated.

However, despite the similarities, there were odd differences as well. She had never heard a story of Malice, in its gaseous form, causing any actual harm. While it could leave burns on any exposed flesh that touched its concentrated liquid form, she’d also never heard of it making people sick with a wasting illness that rendered them weak and, in the worst cases, bedridden and delirious.

Then there was the matter of this new miasma disappearing in the sunlight. During evening hours, the red mist would rise, but it would fade again upon dawn’s first light. Malice had never behaved in such a way.

Zelda’s researchers had taken to calling it Gloom, at least in part for the effect it had on those who inhaled it. She was grateful for the name, even if she thought it a very uninspired term. At least, it let her pretend that she wasn’t terrified that this might be a sign of Calamity Ganon’s imminent return.

The question remained, however. What was Gloom, and why did it appear near the castle? Why did it make people ill? Why was it similar to Malice in some ways, and different in others? And, perhaps most worryingly, why were Link and Zelda seemingly immune to its effects?

She and Link, when he held the Master Sword, had been resistant to Malice as well.

However, that immunity had meant that she and Link had been the only ones who could embark on this expedition. Even now, Zelda could see wisps of Gloom that gathered near the ground or floated through the air. It was hard to make it out in the darkness, appearing more black than red, but it was still there at the periphery of her vision. It never seemed to approach her, however. Just as Malice had pulled back from her presence when she first went to confront the Calamity over a century ago.

“I truly do not know,” she said, meeting Link’s eyes. “Even if there were living Zonai beneath Hyrule, I still do not see how that would explain the Gloom.”

“Could they be responsible for Calamity Ganon?”

Zelda wasn’t certain how to respond to that. It was a novel idea; one that she didn’t think she had ever heard proposed before. Of course, before this moment, there had never been any suggestion of a link between the ancient scourge of Hyrule and the forgotten Zonai people.

“I… think it best we avoid to jumping to any conclusions,” she said, after a moment’s consideration. “We do not even know for certain that the Gloom is connected to Calamity Ganon in any way, nor why there is Zonai architecture here.”

Link grunted softly and nodded. His expression had grown serious, and she could see in his posture and set of his jaw her own worries reflected. They both had sacrificed so much to overcome the Calamity. The thought of facing that again was horrifying.

“Come on,” she said, reaching out to take the torch from his hand and beginning across the bridge. “Let’s press on. Perhaps we will find more answers ahead.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: The Corpse

“How many flights of stairs have we gone down now?” Link asked, looking up towards the ceiling, which had long since passed out of view. “Ten?”

“Eleven,” Zelda said.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Link could have sworn he’d only counted ten flights of stairs, but he knew better than to question Zelda’s memory.

When they had crossed the bridge up above, they found themselves on the top floor of a massive Zonai tower, or perhaps, a shaft, that appeared to have been built directly into the rock. The walls and floors were made of the same grey stone that the bridge had been made of and were inlaid in several places with some kind of script that Zelda claimed to be Zonai, though she was unable to read any of it.

Each floor of the tower consisted of a wide, square walkway surrounding an open center, with a single staircase that alternated sides on each floor. Built within the walls of each landing were numerous alcoves and rooms, most of which were empty except for a handful that had contained strange Zonai artifacts unlike anything he or Zelda had seen before.

It took a long time to descend. Zelda, of course, wanted to look at everything, but there was also the fact that this structure, like the bridge outside of it, had deteriorated over time. Several of the staircases, and even some entire floors, had crumbled away.

They’d already had to leave the dondon behind at the bridge, so that wasn’t a concern, and thankfully their paraglider was enough to see them over those gaps. That was hardly ideal, however. It could hold the two of them aloft just as well as one, thanks to whatever magic had been woven into it, but it was nearly impossible to control.

Link was determined to try to find a way to get Zelda her own someday. The thought of her slipping and falling down the massive shaft in the center of this structure terrified him. They hadn’t often been in situations that required them both to hang onto the paraglider for dear life, but the fact that it happened at all concerned him.

Of course, that wasn’t his only concern. Nothing about this expedition sat right with him. Link wasn’t a scientist, and he certainly couldn’t be sure of how far they’d traveled or even how long they’d been underground, but the fact that they were, once again, descending ate at him. How was it possible that they’d ventured so far underground? None of this felt like a normal cave system, even before they encountered these strange Zonai ruins.

It's almost like we’ve entered an entire other world down here, he thought, looking around. How long had it been since they’d seen the sun? How far underground were they? Were they even still in Hyrule? And would they be able to make it back up again? It reminded Link of the Lost Woods in all the worst ways.

“I think I see the bottom!”

Link’s gaze dropped back down to look at Zelda. She held the torch over the edge of the walkway, looking down into the shadows. When he joined her, he could see that she was, indeed, right. The unsteady light of the torch barely illuminated what looked like a chunk of a fallen staircase below. It wasn’t the ground, exactly, but it was close enough.

They continued their descent until, finally, they reached the bottom. When Link looked up, he could see nothing but blackness. There was no hint of the upper floors or the ceiling. He knew that the ascent would be even harder to manage and didn’t look forward to what it would entail. They had brought plenty of rope with them, and it would be up to Link to scale the walls where the walkways were broken and help pull Zelda up after him. At least they’d brought plenty of food and water in their packs.

“Let’s rest for a bit,” Zelda said, slipping the heavy pack off her back and onto the ground. She rolled her shoulders and neck, groaning softly, before settling down on a broken stone.

Link followed suit, relieved to drop his burden and retrieve one of his waterskins, guzzling down several gulps before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “So how many, in total?”

“Seventeen,” Zelda said, after corking her own waterskin again. “Seventeen floors. Wait, no, eighteen, if you count the ground floor as the first.”

“Do you think this was a natural shaft that they just built into?”

She didn’t respond for a few seconds before she sighed, her shoulders slumping. She looked defeated, all of a sudden. “I don’t know. How did the Sheikah build an entire facility for constructing Guardians beneath Hyrule Castle’s sanctum? It’s clear the Zonai, like the Sheikah, were advanced in ways that we never knew.”

Link grunted but chose not to follow up that point. The subject of the Sheikah and their technology was still a source of deep pain for his wife, even several years after she and the other Sheikah had made the decision to shut it all down and either bury or dismantle the ancient machines, lest they be coopted by dangerous forces, such as the Yiga Clan or, Hylia forbid, Ganon again. Even with Purah’s attempts to create new technology without the vulnerabilities of the old machines, Zelda’s part in that decision still weighed heavily on her.

He could still remember the way she’d wept when the towers retreated back into the ground and the lights on the Sheikah Shrines went out. She didn’t speak with him for days following that event, drawing deep into herself. She spent hours at a time locked away in her study within their small home, emerging only occasionally and never for long. She refused to eat, barely drank, and often fell asleep at her desk. Link hadn’t a clue how to help her.

And then, after days of this, she emerged from her study, a determined expression on her exhausted face. Her hair was disheveled, clothing and skin dirty, and she’d clearly lost some weight. Yet, within her hand, was a notebook full of cramped writing.

Lesson plans for the school she would build.

They found themselves descending yet another tunnel. There were stairs at their feet, but the walls around them were mostly natural rock, except for the occasional angular Zonai pillars. Around them, the Gloom seemed to have grown thicker, and the torchlight seemed weaker as a result.

Zelda paused to watch as the dark mist swirled around in the wake of their passing. Like before, it did not seem to want to approach them. It disturbed Link, watching the way the Gloom responded to their presence. He remembered all too well the way Malice had surrounded him, but remained just out of arm’s reach when he claimed the Master Sword.

Gloom may not have been the same as the Calamity’s essence, but it was clearly close enough. Link was certain that they had to be related.

“I think we must be getting close,” Zelda said, turning to look back at Link.

“Why do you think that?” Link looked down the dark tunnel, left hand balling into a tight fist.

“I can’t explain it, I just… I feel as though we’re being watched.”

Link felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at her words. He’d been feeling that very sensation, though for far longer than just upon entering this tunnel. He’d felt that way all day. The dread one felt when being stalked. The feeling that prey felt right before being pounced upon.

“Just stay close to me.” Link reached back and drew the Master Sword. As always, the blade felt natural in his hand. An extension of Link’s arm, of his very being. It was a comfort to hold the sword, even if he’d hoped to never need to draw it from its pedestal in the heart of the Great Deku Tree’s glade again.

They continued down the stairs, with Zelda walking to Link’s right now, leaving his left side clear, in case he needed to attack. It was a practiced motion—one born of their travels together, both before the Calamity and after. Zelda held the torch in her right hand, away from Link’s direct line of sight. It still provided ample light to see their next steps by, but this way he wasn’t blinded, just in case something came at them from the front.

Zelda even fell into step with him, their footfalls sounding at almost the exact same time. It made Link think of the way he and the other squires had drilled with each other and their respective knights, day in and day out. Yet despite countless exercises, those drills had never felt nearly so natural as the way he and Zelda moved together.

Together, they had faced evil and horror. Monsters, beasts, and a godlike entity determined to destroy their entire world. Before the Calamity, Link had been Zelda’s protector, and he still was now, but that dynamic had evolved over the years. Zelda was no fighter, yet she had saved Link’s life many times over, whether by good use of the old Sheikah Slate’s offensive and defensive abilities or simply by being a second set of eyes to catch that which he missed.

Link found himself reaching out with his right hand, taking Zelda’s, and giving it a firm squeeze before releasing it again. If they did come face to face with the Calamity again, they would prevail. Together.

“Look, more Zonai construction!” Zelda said, abruptly. Link had seen the outline of the brick archway a split second before, and as they approached, the arch gave way to a long, corridor-like room, made of cut brick, as the earlier structure had been. Lining the walls were angular obelisks placed in alcoves between support pillars, and Link could see more of the ancient Zonai text carved into their faces.

“Incredible…” Zelda traced her fingers over the text on one such obelisk. Link thought that he could see hints of what may have once been gold trim within the unfamiliar letters. “I hope Tauro will be able to translate some of this when we get back to the surface.”

As she took pictures with the Purah Pad, Link wandered a few paces from her, examining another monolithic statue, though this one had fallen on its side. It was flatter than the obelisk, and while its front still had lines of the Zonai text, it also bore a symbol in its center. It took Link a moment to realize what the various curved lines with the large emerald at its center depicted, and when he realized it, he only found himself more confused.

“Zelda, come here.”

She knelt beside him a moment later, holding the torch out to better see the symbol carved into the fallen statue. “It’s… an eye.” She reached out, running her fingers along the stone. “It isn’t the Sheikah eye—or, at least, not as we know it now, but the similarities…”

She trailed off and began taking pictures of this artifact as well. Link didn’t know what to make of any of this. Ancient Zonai, never-ending caverns, the resurgence of Malice—he didn’t care what Zelda’s researchers called it.

Her preoccupation with the strange eye design did not last long, and she was soon drawn to an entirely different kind of statue.

The statue depicted a tall figure, bipedal, with arms that rested at its side. That was where the similarities to a Hylian ended, however. Its neck was far too long and ended in a head that appeared animal-like, with big eyes and a snout, along with enormous, triangular ears that stretched out to either side, each larger than its head.

“Could this be a Zonai?” Zelda whispered, reaching up and touching the statue. A pair of them stood on either side of another archway that led deeper into this building. “No one has ever found a depiction of them like this. Most scholars tended to think that the Zonai were just an offshoot of Hylians, but this… Look at its ears. They make me think of a fox.”

“I think its face looks kind of like a goat, though,” Link said, frowning up at the statue.

Zelda glanced at him and then back up at the statue, tilting her head. “I don’t know… Zonai ruins on the surface often have depictions of dragons, owls, or boars… I’ve never seen anything like a goat.”

“What about a fox?”

“Well, no. But I was merely stating that its ears reminded me of one.” Zelda began taking pictures again, capturing the statue from each angle. “I actually think its face looks almost feline.”

“So you think the Zonai were… cat people?”

Zelda snorted. “I didn’t say that. Though that would be better than goat people.”

“Goats are more useful than cats.”

“I fail to see how that bears any relevance to what a Zonai looks like,” she said. He saw her lips beginning to form a smile, however. “And besides, I disagree. I think cats are quite useful. They are natural rodent hunters, after all. I remember the castle kept quite a few cats around to keep the rat population down.”

Link leaned against the arch. “Uh-huh. I seem to remember you sneaking dinner scraps to some of the cats. You know, that’s a terrible way to encourage them to hunt rats.”

“Oh, is it?” Zelda asked, clearly feigning ignorance. “It’s amazing, the things my tutors failed to adequately teach me.”

She glanced towards Link, her teeth showing in a bright smile. Link felt his own smile grow in response. “It probably didn’t help that you knew more than your tutors by the time you were ten.”

“Don’t be absurd. I didn’t surpass them in knowledge until I was thirteen, at the earliest.” Link barked a laugh that echoed off the stone walls and straightened as Zelda clipped the Purah Pad back to her waist. “Come on,” she said, after situating the device. “Let’s see what this next room has to offer.”

He nodded and stepped through the dark archway into a much more spacious room, though the presence of the Gloom in the air made it difficult to judge its size. He flinched as a few keese took flight and flew past him, squeaking, and he heard Zelda give a soft yelp behind him as they darted out the archway into the room they’d come from.

“I’m surprised we haven’t seen more of those,” he remarked, stepping further into the room, eyes alert for any potential threat.

Zelda stepped up beside her, running her fingers through her hair. “You know, that’s a good point. We’ve encountered very little life down here, haven’t we? Even insects and other creatures you’d expect to thrive down here—I haven’t seen many of them in quite some time. Have you?”

Link shook his head, eyes fixed on a point in the distance. He thought it was the opposite wall, but it looked oddly textured. Not at all like the simple, grey stone that had made up most the other walls, nor the natural rock of the tunnels.

As he and Zelda took another step forward, however, and the torch finally cast its illumination on it, he understood. It was the wall, but rather than brick, it was covered with an enormous carved mural. Zelda gasped and rushed forward until she stood right before it, looking up with wide eyes.

“Link, look,” Zelda said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What… Is this the…”

Link stepped up beside her, looking up at the relief carved into the wall, surprised at just how much he could make out. While other sections of this structure had crumbled to ruin, this mural was still mostly intact. The paint that had been used to give it additional detail had mostly faded over the years, but the carving was still sharp and clear.

And unless Link was sorely mistaken, this particular mural depicted some kind of war between Hyrule and a force of monsters. He could see surprisingly accurate depictions of bokoblins and moblins, as well as winged creatures of a sort he wasn’t familiar with.

Fighting the force of monsters was a paltry force of what he thought to be Hylians, though they were dressed somewhat like the statues of Zonai had been. They raised swords and shields to the tide of monsters, but Link also saw quite a few of the figures lying prone on the ground. The monsters took up the majority of the mural, with the remnants of red paint seeming to coat the ground all around them and the fallen Hylians. Blood, perhaps? It looked as though tendrils of it were reaching out to the Hylians still opposing the monsters.

Hovering over the battlefield was what looked like a black sun, and behind the horde of monsters was a massive humanoid figure with a pair of spiked horns and a wide, open-mouthed grin beneath a thick beard. It looked to Link as though the man was commanding the army of monsters.

Looking at that man, Link felt a sudden and visceral urge to fight. He gripped the Master Sword tightly, and he felt gooseflesh erupt all down both of his arms. The man’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hatred and evil delight as the horde of monsters overran the embattled Hylians.

“Zelda? What… what is this?”

Zelda reached up, touching the mural with a trembling finger. He heard her whispering to herself. “The Calamity? But no… No, that doesn’t…”

Suddenly, she turned, and only then did Link realize that there was more than one mural. Beside the mural depicting the battle was a smaller one, though this one was also dominated by the same hateful-looking man, though this one lacked the horns. In this one, he held up his hand, and some kind of teardrop-shaped object floated just above it, while more of the red blood-like substance formed a wave that crested overhead. There was also a woman in this image, bent over backwards, with long hair spilling down towards the ground.

Zelda paused at this mural as well, but only momentarily before moving on to the next mural in line, and then to the final mural. Link followed, growing more unsettled by the moment. He looked behind himself, half expecting to see some dark creature oozing out of the shadows, but found nothing.

“Link, I… I think that this might be showing the birth of the kingdom of Hyrule.”

He turned his attention back to Zelda, looking up at the mural. This one depicted a Zonai, or at least what Link thought was a Zonai, based on the statues outside of this room. It stood or sat on some kind of floating platform, hands outstretched to either side, with seven of those teardrop-shaped objects floating in a semicircle around its head.

“The birth of—I don’t—” Link started, confused, but Zelda pressed on, excited.

“Look! This mural depicts a Zonai. Legends say that the Zonai came from the heavens, and I think that’s what this is showing! See? Those swirls above—those must be clouds.” Zelda’s head twisted this way and that, as if she were racing to see as much as she could within a short time. She motioned at a group of people at the bottom of the mural. “And these figures look like Hylians! And here are mountains—could this be Death Mountain? And look here!”

Zelda moved on to the next mural in the line, this one depicting the Zonai and who he thought to be the woman that was bent backwards in the other one. “The legends of the royal family state that our bloodline was born from the union with gods who had descended from above. And this mural… I think it might be depicting that, but instead of gods, as we think of them now, it shows a Zonai and a Hylian…”

Link could see what she meant. This mural depicted the Zonai and Hylian woman looking at each other with their hands crossed between them while a pair of the teardrops shone above their heads. Below them were several other Hylian figures, hands raised and crossed with those beside them.

“So you think that the Zonai were gods?” Link asked, reaching out and taking the torch from her so she could begin taking pictures once again.

“I don’t know. That’s just what our legends say now—that the royal line has divine blood. Perhaps I’m misinterpreting these murals, but this certainly looks like a union between the Zonai that came from the heavens and Hylians down below, does it not?”

Link frowned. “But don’t you literally have Hylia’s divine sealing powers?”

That gave Zelda a moment’s pause before she shook her head. “That may be so, but that hardly means anything! What if Hylia was a Zonai? For all we know, we Hylians have simply gotten it wrong or wanted to fashion her to be more in our likeness after the Zonai disappeared.”

She began taking pictures rapidly, musing out loud as she did so. “Or maybe Hylia, herself, was simply a Hylian woman who wed a Zonai, and the details were muddied over the years? That would turn so much of the royal history on its head, but I cannot deny the—”

“What about these ones?” Link asked, moving towards the two murals with the ominous-looking man.

Zelda stepped up beside him, looking up at the depiction of the woman bent over backwards. She considered it for several seconds before speaking. “This figure… I can’t say for certain, but there is a legend that stretches back to the earliest days of the kingdom.”

She continued taking pictures of this image while speaking. “The legend spoke of a great war called the Imprisoning War between the allied tribes of Hyrule and someone only ever referred to as the Demon King…”

Once again, Link felt a shudder run through him, and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing around to ensure they were still alone.

“At first, I thought that this mural was depicting the first Calamity. But no… No, it doesn’t line up. There are no Guardians, no Divine Beasts, and in Impa’s tapestry, the Calamity is shown to be more bestial. No, this war scene depicts a man, save for his horns.”

“A demon,” Link said, turning his attention back to Zelda.

“Exactly! A demon king. And look at this one!” She drew his attention back to the mural with the figure she called the Demon King and the woman. “He doesn’t have his horns here, but it looks as though he, perhaps, took that teardrop object from the woman! Could it be that this shows the birth of the Demon King? Here, he is born, and then this mural must depict the great war recorded in the royal histories!”

Zelda’s excitement was palpable now, her words spilling out rapidly. “Link, this is incredible! These murals both simultaneously confirm our history, as well as completely turn them on their heads!” She spun to face him, eyes wide. “This is a huge discovery! Why, I could fill an entire library with books about the implications of everything we’ve found down here!”

Link opened his mouth, but Zelda had already turned her back to him again, staring at the mural. “And then if this depicts the Imprisoning War, then this—”

She walked past the large war scene but stopped short. There appeared to be seven total murals that covered this wall, but the final three had been hidden behind a massive pile of stone. Some of the ceiling had collapsed here.

Zelda stood still, staring up at the rubble, her smile fading, replaced by a deep frown. Link could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to work out a way to somehow clear the rubble to see the murals behind. She reached out, pushing on one of the massive stones, but it didn’t shift in the slightest.

“I… I’ll have to bring a team down here. I’m sure I could bring a Goron or two—they would make quick work of this. And my Zonai researchers—they must see this. Tauro will be positively ecstatic.”

Again, Link felt that spike of dread and anxiety, that certainty that they weren’t alone, and he spun, ready to face whatever was creeping up on them. And once more, he found nothing there, save for the empty room.

“Link!”

He looked sharply back at Zelda, eyes scanning, but when he saw her, she looked right at him with wide, even fearful eyes. Except, when he followed her gaze, he realized she wasn’t looking at him.

She was looking at the Master Sword in his left hand, which had begun to shine with a pale blue-white light.

Link stared at the blade, his mind blank with shock. In the past, it had only responded like this when near Calamity Ganon or the entities it possessed, such as the Guardians or the resurrected monsters during the Blood Moon. Link hadn’t seen it do so since defeating and sealing away Calamity Ganon.

Suddenly, he understood the ominous feelings he had been having ever since coming into this room. It was a sensation that he hadn’t felt in over six years—the spirit of the Master Sword reaching out to his mind, conveying its own thoughts and emotions through the mystical bond he shared with the sword. And those feelings that it conveyed to him were exactly the sort of feelings it had shared with him when fighting Calamity Ganon.

His hand tightened on the hilt of the Master Sword, knuckles growing white. He met Zelda’s eyes, which showed a new degree of fear. There wasn’t terror in her eyes—not like he’d seen in the early days of the Calamity—nor did he feel the blind terror himself any longer. The two of them had defeated the Calamity at the height of its power, which gave him a measure of confidence. But neither of them could deny the fear they felt.

“If it’s back, then…” Zelda took a deep breath, steeling herself. Link could see in the way her expression changed, her efforts to wrestle her emotions back under control. “If the Calamity has truly returned, then it must still be weakened from our battle.”

“Will the Master Sword be enough?” Link asked. He hated speaking that concern aloud, but it needed to be said. It had been years since Zelda had felt even a hint of her former power. It was certainly possible that her power would return now, as it seemed to be tied to the need, but he didn’t know if either of them could rely on that.

Zelda winced noticeably at his question, and she took several moments to respond. When she did, her eyes were downcast. “It may have to be. I wish I could confidently say I will be able to call upon my divine sealing power again, but it seems now that even that was hardly enough to truly seal the Calamity away.”

“Zelda, don’t.” Link stepped closer to her, shaking his head. “Don’t blame yourself. If it is back—and we don’t know that for sure yet—then it isn’t your fault. Ganon is craftier than either of us thought possible; it’s possible that it had a backup plan that no one knew about all along.”

Zelda nodded stiffly and met Link’s eyes. “You’re right. It won’t do either of us good to worry about what we could have done differently.”

Link handed her back the torch while giving her a tight smile. “Okay. Are you ready?”

“No.” Zelda took another deep, steadying breath. “But I must be. Let’s keep going.”

Together, they turned away from the murals and made their way to the only other way out of the room, descending yet another series of stairs in a much more claustrophobic tunnel, with natural stone walls closer than Link’s outstretched arms.

“The Gloom is growing thicker,” Zelda said, just behind him.

Link had noticed. This particular tunnel seemed to be choked with the stuff—a thick fog that made it difficult to see more than a few feet out. The added light emanating from the Master Sword helped to cut through the darkness somewhat, and as always, the Gloom pulled back as they ventured deeper. But as soon as they passed, the fog drew close behind them, the torch’s light now only showing the shifting cloud.

“Zelda, if we get down there and—”

“I’m not leaving you, Link.”

He glanced back over his shoulder, mouth still open in an unfinished word. He met her eyes and cleared his throat. “I was merely going to suggest you hang back. If I have to fight something, I don’t want to have to worry about your safety, too.”

“Oh,” she said. “I will.”

Link hoped his words didn’t come off as callous, but at the same time, there had been many situations over the years that he’d had to split his attention between keeping himself alive and ensuring she was safe, too. The most significant of which resulted in his being mortally wounded, and Zelda subsequently awakening her powers.

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that again.

But he also knew that he couldn’t send Zelda away. As much as he loathed putting her in harm’s way, she very well could be key to stopping the Calamity again, if that was indeed what they were about to encounter. And the two of them were partners—where she went, he went, and vice versa.

They continued. As they did so, the only sounds that Link could hear were their rhythmic footsteps on the ancient stairs. He could see nothing, except for the stairs and the rough rock walls on either side. His heart pounded, and he adjusted his grip on the Master Sword. His hand was sweating.

We’re almost there, he thought. He didn’t know how he knew that, but it was plain as day to him. Any moment now, they would reach their destination. The source of the Gloom and whatever it was that had woken the Master Sword.

Zelda drew closer to him and took his right hand in her own. He would have rather kept that hand free, but he could hardly begrudge her. The walls around them only seemed to grow closer and more claustrophobic the further down they traveled. And he was comforted by the feel of her hand in his, too.

He finally saw the end of the tunnel below—an archway that appeared to be a black maw that grew as they approached. He gave Zelda’s hand one final squeeze before releasing it, instead taking the Master Sword in both hands, holding it low so as not to blind himself with its light.

This was it. He took one final step down, his eyes finally descending to the threshold of the archway, giving Link his first view of what lay beyond. And what he saw made no sense.

It was an enormous cavern, large enough that Link couldn’t see the walls on the other side. He also couldn’t see the floor, as their tunnel emerged out onto a narrow outcrop of rock that overlooked a pit of undeterminable depth. The ceiling was high and dominated in its center by an inverted pyramidal-shaped structure that jutted out from the rock in the center of the cavern. And, finally, suspended over the center of the pit was a rock island, held aloft by three stone bridges, one of which was at the bottom of another flight of stairs from Link and Zelda’s outcrop.

Of course, in that moment, Link didn’t see any of this. Instead, at first, all he saw was the strange, blue-green swirl of misty energy that flowed up in a slow, expanding spiral to the ceiling and that inverted pyramid. Within the spiral were odd shapes that looked like runes that faded in and out of existence.

At the heart of the spiral was a disembodied hand that glowed with the same brilliant blue-green light. The hand was positioned palm down, fingers curled in a claw, with its forearm upright. It was from this arm that the powerful energy swirl originated from. At first, Link thought that the hand merely floated in the air, like a ghostly specter.

But then he saw the corpse.

The desiccated body under the hand was hard to make out, largely due in part to the massive amount of Gloom that seemed to be pouring out of the body in all directions. The Gloom flowed out from the body’s chest like a rolling fog, pooling on the ground of the suspended island before expanding, floating up into the air and flowing over the sides into the darkness below. The dark miasma seemed to originate from right beneath the glowing hand, as if the hand were attempting to staunch the flow—or, perhaps, was releasing it.

“Oh, Hylia, what is that?” Zelda said, stepping up beside Link. She stared down at the ethereal scene with wide, confused eyes. Neither of them had known what to expect when venturing down beneath the castle, but this…

Link had no idea what to make of this.

He began down the stairs, which zigzagged down until reaching the level of the suspended platform. Even closer, it was still hard for Link to make out any details about the figure in the center, thanks to the sheer amount of red-black fog pouring out of it. He could see that it wasn’t lying on the ground, but was instead bent over backwards, its feet still on the ground while its torso was parallel to the ground. Was the hand somehow holding it up to keep it from collapsing?

As he and Zelda began to cautiously cross the stone bridge, some of the details began to come into view. The body was, indeed, something of a mummified corpse of a man. What skin it had was dry and dark grey, pulled tight over its skeleton. Its face bore no lips or nose, and it looked more as though Link could see its desiccated muscles, rather than a layer of skin. It still had ears, but its eyes were empty sockets. A long mane of hair grew from the back of its head and reached all the way to the ground. Though it was hard to make out in the darkness, Link thought its hair had a reddish color.

Its arms were outstretched to either side, each bony finger ending in claw-like nails. Its feet were bare, and its toenails, too, were long and claw-like. It wore the tattered remnants of a clothing style that Link wasn’t familiar with, which consisted mostly of a skirt-like wrap around its waist that reached down past its knees, as well as a strip of cloth that hung over one arm. It was covered in golden jewelry—multiple bracers and rings on its arms and hands, a large, ornamental necklace that rested on its chest and shoulders with multiple jeweled pendants, and finally a starburst-shaped headdress that rested on its forehead. The center of the headdress held a teardrop-shaped gem that seemed to shine with a very pale light.

“I don’t…” Link started but then stopped when the glowing hand shifted. Its forearm drooped, and then the entire thing fell over sideways, off the corpse and to the ground. The bright light emanating from it faded, and the spiral of energy dissipated, casting the cavern into further darkness, save for the Master Sword and Zelda’s torch.

Something broke free of the back of the hand—something that clicked across the ground and caught the light of the Master Sword as it bounced past Link’s feet. It looked to be a gemstone of sorts, but Link paid it little heed.

His eyes were, instead, on the corpse, which somehow remained in the same position, feet planted, back bent over backwards, head forward, mouth open in a silent scream. Frozen in time.

Behind him, Link heard Zelda say, “What’s this?” Overhead, the last of the green spiral disappeared, just as the light from the fallen arm faded completely.

The corpse’s outstretched hand flinched.

The body moved. It didn’t fall, as one might have expected, but instead its hands and arms began flexing, their joints cracking audibly. Its chest began to move, and Link watched in stunned silence as it began to straighten from its bent position. Its movements were jerky and strained. Before it could fully straighten to a standing position, it suddenly fell backwards again, its back bending so much that its head hung limply upside down, hair spilling to the ground around it, some of its jewels dangling. Yet its feet were still planted on the ground.

Everything after happened too fast.

The corpse’s head turned to look at Link and Zelda, its empty sockets shining with the light of a pair of orange, slitted eyes. Its mouth moved. The Master Sword pulsed in a sudden, desperate warning, and Link thought he heard the sword’s voice in his head. Gloom erupted from the corpse’s chest like a sudden, red-black flame, tendrils reaching high into the air above Link and Zelda before descending towards them in a rush.

Link acted. Even as the tendrils of Gloom reached for Zelda, he pushed between her and it, swinging the shining Master Sword to intercept it. It felt like he struck something solid, and the sword rang out as if it had struck a stone wall. The Gloom pulled back for just a moment, as if hesitating, and then it rushed forward once again.

The Master Sword pulsed with its brilliant light—the light which dispelled the darkness. The light that Calamity’s Malice could not bear to even touch. The divine light of the Goddess Hylia.

And the Gloom consumed it. It flowed down the sword, blacking out its light completely, and then reached his hand.

Link screamed.

His arm burned as if he’d thrust it into an open flame. It was all he could do to keep hold of the Master Sword as the red-black tendrils of power coursed up his arm, completely burning away the sleeve of his tunic, all the way up to his shoulder. He tried to pull his arm back from the incredible pain, but the tendrils of Gloom wrapped around him like hundreds of gripping, slicing claws.

And then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

Link nearly collapsed, grabbing his now useless left arm in his right, the Master Sword held limply at his side. He spared a glance down, barely comprehending the lifeless, colorless, charred-looking flesh that made up his left arm. It still felt as though it were ablaze with fire, and smoky wisps of Gloom rose from it.

The wisps floated up from the Master Sword, as well.

The sword’s blade was tarnished, its light dimmed. Link could see dark patches of Gloom coating parts of the blade. He could hear a voice screaming in his head—the spirit of the Master Sword was in agony.

“Link!”

He looked up to see yet another eruption of power bursting from the dead man’s chest, rushing towards him. Link’s body moved of its own accord, recalling its years of training, even as his mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

His burned arm swung the Master Sword with one final burst of strength, and the tarnished blade arced to meet the tendril of Gloom. The sword and the dark power met once more. Link heard the wail of determination and pain—the sword’s intent aligning with his.

He felt it happen. The lurch as the sword’s weight and balance abruptly changed. There was a brief burst of light. The wordless voice in his head was silenced.

The Master Sword shattered.

He watched, dumbstruck, as the ancient, holy blade broke under the weight of this creature’s power. One shining shard flew forward, carried by the momentum of Link’s swing. The shard passed by the corpse’s face, cutting a shallow, red line in its cheek. Gloom, not blood, bubbled from the cut as the shard of the Master Sword arced and passed into darkness.

Link couldn’t speak. He stared, eyes wide in horror, at the broken sword in his hand. Gloom still clung to it, seeming to eat away at the half-blade that remained. The Master Sword’s light went out completely.

He heard Zelda cry out his name behind him, fear and concern laced through her voice, but it sounded so very far away. He felt her hands on his shoulders, bracing him. Was she the only thing still keeping him upright?

The Master Sword had shattered.

The corpse spoke. Its voice was a rasp, distorted by its lipless mouth. And yet its words were clear and understandable. “Was that the sword that seals the darkness?” Slowly, it began to stand up straight again, each of its joints crackling. “I expected more. A blade that shatters so easily cannot hope to save you from my power.”

Link grimaced, his legs shaking from the effort to stay standing. The pain in his arm was unbearable. The pain was spreading, traveling now into his shoulder and across his chest. He had to grit his teeth to keep himself from groaning.

The man finally stood upright. Its eyes flicked past Link, and there it briefly paused before speaking again. “Zelda…” Ice ran down Link’s back at the use of Zelda’s name. How did this thing know her? But it wasn’t finished. Its eyes turned again to Link. “And you, who carries that fragile sword—you are Link, are you not?”

“How…” Zelda whispered.

The corpse gave a short, gravely chuckle. “Rauru placed his faith in you, and that was the best you could do?” The skin around its eyes crinkled in what Link thought was indicative of a smile, though the skin around its blackened teeth didn’t move.

Zelda found her voice. “How… how do you know our names? Who—who are you?”

The creature brought its hands together over its chest, and Link saw it beginning to gather its power once more, Gloom compressing into a writhing mass between its fingers. He wanted to tell Zelda to run. To get away, as fast as she could. He would do his best to buy her time.

But he couldn’t. Link simply couldn’t. His body wouldn’t move. His mouth wouldn’t speak. The broken Master Sword hung limply in his hand. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he recognized the symptoms of battlefield shock.

The man suddenly thrust his hands up, toward the ceiling and the inverted pyramid. Gloom burst free like before, but this time it slammed against the roof of the cavern, expanding out and covering everything above. The entire cavern began to shake violently, and a low, deafening rumble filled the air.

Chunks of stone broke free of the roof, one of them slamming into the island platform that the corpse had been on. The platform began to collapse, yet the creature’s power continued to flow up and into the roof of the cavern.

“Link!”

Zelda’s voice finally broke him from his shock. He spun to face her, horrified to see the ground beneath her feet beginning to give way, too. She reached for him with one hand, eyes wide in terror.

And then she fell.

Years of training did not compel Link’s body to move this time. No training would have made him do what he did, after all. No, this time, it was something entirely different that caused him to throw aside the broken Master Sword and dive, headfirst, after his falling wife.

He couldn’t lose her.

“Zelda!”

She was right there, falling, one hand still outstretched towards him as she descended into the darkness, her other clenched into a fist against her chest. He lunged with his damaged hand, blackened and bleeding fingers desperately reaching for his Zelda. He spared no thought for what would happen, even if he caught her.

Their fingertips brushed.

Something suddenly grabbed Link by the right arm, wrenching him to a painful halt, and he watched in horror as Zelda continued to fall, their eyes meeting for the briefest of seconds. She didn’t make another sound.

He thought, for the briefest of moments, that he saw a golden halo of light surround her, just like he’d seen on the killing fields of Blatchery Plains over one hundred years ago, but then she was consumed by darkness and passed out of his sight.

“No!”

Tears blurred his eyes, and he screamed, but his voice was drowned out as more stones from the ceiling fell all around him. He had to get down there. He had to find her, to get her out of here before the entire cavern collapsed on them. She would be okay. She had to be okay.

The thing that had grabbed Link’s arm tightened, and he finally looked up to see that the disembodied hand from earlier had come back to life somehow. It had been the thing that caught him. The thing that prevented him from grabbing Zelda’s hand.

“Let go…” Link mumbled, tears blurring his vision. He tried to reach up with his damaged hand, but he could no longer even move it. “I need to find her—let me go. I need—Zelda—I need to—”

The hand began to lift Link higher, even as his babbles grew incoherent. His vision grew even blurrier as more tears formed. The blackness at the edges of his vision was a sign that he was losing consciousness.

“Zelda… Please…”

Overhead, the ceiling crumbled away completely, and Link thought that he could see a faint light overhead. Far, far overhead.

Daylight. How could he be seeing daylight?

Everything went dark as he finally succumbed to the pain and despair.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Islands in the Sky

Link opened the door to the oven, letting the smell of freshly baked bread waft out. Outside, a snowstorm raged, but the inside of their home was warm and cozy and full of delicious smells—just as he liked it.

“Oh, that smells good,” Zelda said.

He looked up to see her peering down at him from the loft overhead. She was dressed in a thin, white shift, and her hair was the kind of messy tangle that only came about after a particularly good night’s rest.

He smiled warmly. “I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

“Oh, I’ve been awake for a while.” She made her way down the stairs, stifling a yawn that made Link think she hadn’t been awake that long. “I was watching the snow for a bit.”

“It’s coming down fast.” He kissed Zelda briefly when she reached him before turning back to the open oven to inspect the bread. “I’m going to have to dig us out when it’s done.”

“Link, you must find me.”

“What?” He straightened and looked back at her, frowning.

Zelda raised her eyebrows. “I said I wondered if the Cryonis Rune could, somehow, be used to clear away the snow.”

“Oh, I thought—” Link shook his head, smiling. “Never mind.” He turned back to the oven. “And, personally, I think the Bomb Rune would do the trick nicely.”

“And scorch the side of our house in the process!”

“Eh, it probably needs to be repainted this year, anyway.” He used a wide spatula to scoop up the bread and pull it free from the oven, satisfied by the golden-brown coloring of its crust.

“Link, you must find me.”

Zelda’s voice, right in his ear, made him jump with a start, causing the bread to bounce off the spatula and onto the floor.

“Zelda, what—!” He looked back at her, only she wasn’t there any longer. There was no one behind him at all. “Zelda?”

He looked around, confused. “Where did you go?”

Their front door was open, and a frigid wind blew in, howling through the rafters and snuffing out the lamps. Outside was pitch black. The storm still raged, yet it was so dark that Link couldn’t see the snow falling.

“Zelda…?” His voice quavered some as he stepped towards the door. His heart began to race as, again, she failed to respond. “Zelda!”

As he approached the door, a blast of icy wind hit him, pushing him back. He crashed into a chair, and they both toppled to the floor in a heap. He heard dishes being blown off the table, and something heavy crashed to the ground hard enough to cause the ground to tremble.

Link groaned, lifting his head, and looking again towards the door. There, just on the other side of the threshold, mostly obscured by blackness, stood a skeletal figure with long, red hair and orange, glowing eyes.

The creature laughed, and Link screamed as his arm burned away to nothing.

“Zelda, no!”

Link jerked awake, body going rigid before his head came back down, striking painfully on stone. Stars burst before his eyes, and he cried out in pain and shock. He reached back, rubbing the back of his head with a groan before pushing himself up into a seated position.

He was sitting on the floor in a dark room. The floor was stone, but around him on all sides and above were what looked like thick tree roots. The barest glimmers of light filtered down from above, through the roots. That’s right, I’m underground with Zelda and… Except that he could now see stone walls behind some of those tree roots. And there hadn’t been roots earlier, had there?

His memory was fuzzy. They’d used the passage underneath Lookout Landing—an old tunnel that had existed to get the royal family out of danger, in the case of an attack. To this day, Link still wondered if Zelda’s father, King Rhoam Bosphoramus, had managed to escape Hyrule Castle when the Calamity appeared, only to die in battle later, or if he had been among those first killed.

We went down into the lowest basements of the castle and then found the tunnel.

Getting the dondon in after them had been challenging. They ultimately used one of Purah’s travel medallions to teleport the dondon in once they found the cavern system that led down beneath the castle, and it became clear that it would not be a quick trip.

It all came rushing back. Their expedition, the Zonai structures, the corpse. Zelda, falling. Zelda, disappearing into the darkness.

Zelda.

A low moan bubbled up from Link’s core as he replayed the images of that moment over and over in his mind. Zelda’s fearful eyes and the way she’d met his. He’d seen surprise in her eyes as she fell. Surprise and terror.

Their fingertips had brushed. Why hadn’t he stretched just a little further? Why hadn’t he moved a little faster?

“No…” He felt sick. His stomach writhed in horror at the memory, and he reached up, covering his face. “No, no, no… No, Hylia, it—it can’t—I need to—” He remembered the brief flash of light that he thought he’d seen as she fell. Dare he hope that she’d rediscovered her powers in that dire moment? That’s how it had been during the Calamity, after all—they didn’t surface until Zelda had stared death in the face.

He clung to that thread of hope like it was the lifeline keeping him from careening over the edge of a cliff, himself. He hadn’t imagined that light, and the light must have meant something. She’d regained her power there, in her moment of desperation, and…

But where was she? And where was he? His thoughts were still confused, but he could remember the hand grabbing him. Stopping him from following Zelda into the abyss. She got her powers back, he reminded himself, determinedly not considering any alternatives. The hand grabbed me and brought me… here?

He looked around again, taking more note of his surroundings. He could see the remnants of stone walls behind the tree roots—wherever this was, it was an old, underground structure that nature had decided to reclaim for itself. Vines hung down in several places, and there were places on the ground where weeds and other plants had broken through the stone bricks.

It didn’t look anything like the chamber he and Zelda had found the living corpse in. The one that attacked me with Malice, he recalled, grimly. And only then did he think to look at his left hand. The last time he’d seen it, it had been scorched and blackened by the Malice—or Gloom, whatever it was called. It hadn’t just been burned, though; it had been emaciated, as if all his muscle had been eaten away with the sleeve of his tunic.

That wasn’t how it looked now.

He inhaled sharply, eyes wide in shock and bewilderment, as he took in his arm’s appearance. His entire arm, from just above the elbow to the tips of his fingers, was a dark grey color with a tinge of green. It wasn’t blackened or scorched, as had been the case earlier, and instead the skin appeared whole, albeit different. It was covered in an intricate, coppery-colored bracer that wrapped around his forearm in an odd lattice of geometric lines and right angles, leaving as much of his arm exposed as was covered. This bracer extended up to the back of his hand.

Even this was no longer recognizable as his. Besides the color, the hand at the end of this arm had longer, thinner fingers than his own, and each ended in sharp, pointed nails that very well could have been claws. Each finger was almost bony, with its knuckles standing out starkly. Each was adorned with a ring of various sizes, all made of the same coppery metal.

Link’s eyes traveled up his arm in the other direction, up to his shoulder, where he finally started seeing the pale tan of his natural skin color. But, even here, things had changed. The grey-green skin continued in a similar pattern to the bracer, up his bicep and shoulder, and even onto the left side of his chest. It looked almost like a tattoo, and Link found himself wondering if he’d somehow fallen victim to a prank. Could someone have applied a tattoo to him while he was out?

For several seconds, he couldn’t do anything but examine his hand. He could feel it—when he clenched it into a fist, the nails felt sharp, and he was certain that he would pierce his palm if he kept squeezing. Beyond that, the arm ached. It was a phantom sort of pain, reminiscent of the burning sensation he’d felt in that underground chamber, and he hadn’t felt it until he noticed the arm. The pain ebbed and flowed, and he grasped his shoulder, where the new arm had seemingly been fused to his body, with his right—and still normal—hand.

Here, especially, hurt. It felt like a thousand stabbing needles. He winced and clenched his jaw as the pain throbbed throughout his replacement arm. But Link was no stranger to pain, and he endured it with deep, steady breaths until the pain subsided. Only then did he finally acknowledge that he had seen this arm before.

The arm that had, seemingly, been grafted onto Link was the exact same arm that had been with the living corpse underground. Then, it had glowed with an ethereal, green light, true, but this was, undoubtedly, the same one. He recognized it as the hand that had grabbed him as he fell.

“Ahh, Link, good. I see you’re awake.”

As he heard the voice from behind him, the arm pulsed with a soft, green light. He gasped and leaped to his feet, spinning around. As he did so, he reached back to draw his sword, but his hand found only empty air. Unwilling to consider the implications of that for the time being, he focused, instead, on the very tall figure in front of him, who also happened to be dead, if his transparency and pale-blue glow were any indication.

Link had encountered spirits and ghosts before, but this spirit was quite unlike any that he’d seen before. For one, this spirit was a creature that Link only knew from his expedition underground with Zelda. Though the statues they’d seen had been stylized and artistically crafted, the similarity between the statues and the person standing before him was undeniable.

He was looking at the ghost of a Zonai.

The Zonai raised his hands, palms forward, in a gesture of peace. “Oh! I’m sorry, I did not intend to startle you.” He chuckled softly to himself. “Though I suppose turning around to find a spirit would be shocking for anyone.”

Link opened his mouth and licked his lips before clearing his throat. Even so, when he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse and dry, and he wondered how long he had been unconscious. “That’s… not nearly so shocking for me as you might think.”

“Still, forgive me for appearing to you in this manner. This is, unfortunately, all that is left of me.” The man’s lips pulled back into a bit of a wolfish smile before he continued. “You are Link, are you not?”

Link nodded, trying to size up the ghostly Zonai floating a few inches off the ground in front of him.

He was tall—at least head and shoulders taller than Link, though not quite as tall as a full-grown Zora. Perhaps about as tall as a typical Gerudo. His body was not unlike a Hylian’s or the other races of Hyrule, with two arms and two legs, but his torso seemed elongated when compared to his relatively shorter legs. That, however, was where the similarities truly ended.

The Zonai had a distinct snout, with a long, flat nose and a protruding mouth, a pair of large eyes where one might expect, and what looked like a third eye in the center of his forehead, though this one remained closed. He had enormous, pointed ears that each extended out from his head, parallel to the ground, and four stubby horns stuck out of his forehead. He had a long mane of thick, white hair that began at his scalp, covering his ears like fur, and extended all the way down his back to his feet.

“I know you must have many questions,” said the Zonai. “First, let me start by introducing myself. My name is Rauru. I am the one who brought you here.”

Link’s eyes fell back to Rauru’s hand, and another piece to the puzzle fell into place. “This is your arm, isn’t it?” he said, looking down at his new arm. As he did so, he felt that same throb of pain as before, like something writhing under his skin.

Rauru inclined his head, his expression grave. “Yes. Your wounds were… severe. I did what I could to purify your body and encourage your recovery, but your arm was beyond any hope of saving.”

The spirit held up his own left hand, and Link noticed that this had a brighter glow to it than the other hand, as if even his spirit recognized the loss of his own hand.

“But… why? Why replace it? Why give me yours?”

Rauru met Link’s eyes again. “If I had not removed your old arm, the wound would have festered, and the infection would have spread. I managed to isolate much of Ganondorf’s power in your damaged arm, but not all of it. The arm you have now should still have some of my power, and it can keep his dark power at bay and prevent it from spreading further.”

Rauru paused before saying, “And besides, I think you have much greater need of it than I do now, after all.” He motioned at his spiritual form. “Zelda has told me much about you, and I—”

“Zelda!? You’ve seen her?” Link whirled, looking around wildly, heart racing like a drum in his chest. He had intended to ask about the one Rauru named Ganondorf, but that was driven from his mind in a heartbeat. Was Zelda here? His lips parted in a grin as he waited to see her walk around one of the tree roots, whole and well. He didn’t think he had ever felt so relieved as that moment.

“Link… There is much to tell you.” Rauru’s voice sounded grim, and the relief Link felt diminished.

“Where is she? Where’s my wife?”

“I do not know,” Rauru said, ears drooping slightly. “When I met her… Link, I met her eons ago. Long before your time. My wife, Sonia, understood her plight much greater than I, but as I understand it, when you encountered Ganondorf beneath Hyrule, Zelda somehow managed to transport herself back through time to my Hyrule.”

Link struggled to understand—Sonia? Ganondorf? His Hyrule?—but he seized on the last thing Rauru said. “She… traveled through time? Into the past?”

The Zonai nodded. “Yes. I do not know how far back, exactly, that is, but she made it sound as though it was long, long ago.”

Link’s mind spun with this revelation. Zelda had survived the fall, which comforted him, but everything else… “I don’t… but where is she now? And how? How did she end up in your time?”

“That… is a long story, and I’m not sure how much time I have left in this world.” He raised his hand when Link opened his mouth to speak. “But I will tell you what I can. Come, however—let us leave this place. I have had no opportunity to see the sun since sealing Ganondorf, and I will not pass from this world to the next without seeing it at least once more.”

Link nodded, and he turned to follow Rauru as the Zonai passed around a large tree root and through some vines into what appeared to be a more open room. But before he could follow, his eyes fell on a glint of metal in the shade of one of the roots.

“Oh no…” He hurried forward, crouching on the ground to see it up close. There, on the ground, lay what remained of the Master Sword.

The blade was broken. Not only broken, but it looked to have been melted and eaten away. It was less than half as long as it once was, now ending in a mangled, distorted mess. Shriveled and blackened, not unlike Link’s damaged arm had been. Only nearest the hilt was the metal still intact, along with the hilt itself. It was that silvery metal that he had seen beneath the root.

With a trembling hand, Link reached out, wrapping his fingers around the hilt and lifting the Master Sword. He stood, looking down at the sword in sorrow. He couldn’t feel the spirit of the sword in his mind. The Master Sword appeared to be nothing more than a broken sword.

A dead sword.

Rauru floated closer to Link, examining the sword. “Zelda once spoke to me of the Master Sword. She said it had been damaged in your encounter with Ganondorf. Is… that it, then?”

Link nodded solemnly. He tried to quest out with his mind, seeking the connection that he’d always had with the sword. With her. He felt nothing in return.

A lump formed in Link’s throat, and he closed his eyes tightly. I don’t have time to feel this right now, he told himself, walling off the part of him that mourned the loss. He didn’t dare consider the implications if the Master Sword was truly gone for good.

He opened his eyes, turning his gaze to Rauru again. “You were going to tell me about Zelda.”

Rauru nodded and passed through some stiff vines that Link had to push out of his way. “It is as I said. Zelda traveled back in time to my age. I am a Zonai, and in my time, I was only one of two. The rest of my people were lost.” He grew quiet for several seconds. “The rest of my people are lost.”

Link didn’t know what to say. What could you say when speaking to the last ghost of a forgotten people?

After a short silence, Rauru continued, his voice growing firm. “I knew I was the last long ago. But that doesn’t matter now. In my time, Zelda came to me, confused, and seeking help on how to return to you. She feared you were in further danger after she fell.”

He looked back at Link, smiling. “Little did I know then that I would eventually be the one to save you.”

Link couldn’t bring himself to smile, for he didn’t feel saved at all. His arm was gone, and his replacement felt wrong. He kept poking his palm with his nails. Furthermore, now that he was upright and walking, he already felt fatigued. His muscles protested even the simple act of walking, and he felt the beginnings of a headache in his forehead and behind his eyes.

And he still didn’t know where Zelda was.

“Ahh, Link, I have something I want you to try,” Rauru said ahead of him, past another lattice of thick vines that Link had to force out of his path.

On the other side, he emerged from the overgrown tree roots and vines to discover a large, open room. After what he’d seen underground, Link immediately understood the room to be Zonai in design. Everything from the way the square support pillars were thicker near the ceiling and thinner near the ground, to the Zonai text carved into several of the stones, to even the choice of stone itself.

One wall was largely covered by a large wheel that made Link think of the water wheels one might see in a river—or the wheels that made up some of the inner workings of the Divine Beasts. It sat inert, however, and he couldn’t see where any water might fall on it. The other wall was devoid of this wheel device, but that was because the wheel had fallen off and lay on its side on the ground.

In the middle of the room was some kind of statue. It looked like a pair of long dragons rising from the floor and curving to form a circle large enough for him to walk through. Zonai text was etched along this, too. It looked like an archway, though it stood alone, in the open.

Rauru floated by this statue, waiting. As Link approached, suddenly a green image appeared in mid-air, within the circle. It glowed, giving off pale green light, and consisted of a double-ring of Zonai script, along with several other symbols that Link couldn’t hope to understand. But in the center of the circle was a big, stylized eye, and beneath the eye was the unmistakable design of a hand with long, thin fingers and thick knuckles.

Link looked down at his left hand, comparing it to the image floating in the air in front of him. Then he looked at Rauru. “What do you want me to do?”

Rauru nodded at the image. “Touch it with your hand.”

Link did so, reaching up with his Zonai hand and placing it against the projected image. He half-expected to touch something solid, but his hand easily passed through the green projection. However, as he did so, his hand pulsed with light, and the image followed suit, the pulse beginning where he touched and spreading out. As the pulse of light spread, the image broke apart, as if shattered into pieces, each piece fading away moments later.

“Excellent. I had hoped you would be able to interface with Zonai technology. And if you have that, then perhaps…” Rauru reached up to stroke the underside of his jaw.

Link frowned at him. “What do you mean? What was that?”

He got his answer a moment later, however, as a door on the other side of the chamber that he hadn’t noticed before began to part from the middle. Each half of the door slid open sideways, and, as the door opened, he caught sight of a bright light at the end of a short tunnel.

Sunlight.

Link didn’t wait before rushing forward, feeling a sudden, overwhelming need to get out there. How long had he been underground? Weeks? Months? It had been impossible to tell, and both he and Zelda had largely given up trying to keep track of the passage of time after a while.

“Ah, Link!”

He ignored Rauru’s voice, hurrying out the door and down the hallway, that bright spot of light growing in size and intensity as he approached. Despite the situation, Link found himself smiling, breathing deeply of the fresh air flowing into the hallway from the opening. How long had it been since he was able to smell the outdoors?

The light was blinding after being in the dark for so long, but he didn’t care. He hurried forward, into the brilliance, shading his eyes with his hand and relishing the sudden burst of warmth he felt on his skin.

“Link, be careful!”

Rauru’s warning came just in time. The light was so bright that Link nearly failed to see the cliff’s edge in front of him. He stopped, barely, his toes protruding over the edge. What he saw stunned him far more than anything else he’d seen that day.

He saw clouds. A distant horizon. And he saw mountain peaks that seemed almost level with him.

Link stood on an island, floating in midair, amid a group of other flying islands, and the islands were flying far, far above the land of Hyrule, which he could make out through breaks in the clouds.

The clouds beneath him.

“What in Hylia’s name is this!?” Link backed away from the edge and spun to face Rauru, eyes wide in alarm. “How are we flying!?”

The Zonai approached, floating up to the edge and looking down thoughtfully. “I haven’t quite figured that out, myself.”

“What do you mean you haven’t figured this out? This whole place is Zonai-made, isn’t it?”

Rauru nodded. “Oh yes. I recognize it from my time. Do you see that building down there?” He pointed to a large island some hundreds of feet below them—and it still was hundreds, if not thousands, of feet over Hyrule’s surface. At one end of the island was a massive building in a style that he’d never seen before. “That building is called the Temple of Time, and it was considered a holy place in my era.”

The structure was tiered, but in reverse, with the smallest tier at the bottom, with each successive tier, of which there were four in total, growing larger in turn, like an inverted pyramid. The building was a rectangle, and the shorter walls curved out slightly while the longer sides bowed inward.

Is that concave? Or convex? he wondered. Zelda would know.

Finally, the building itself seemed to hang out over the edge of the floating island, somehow staying aloft despite its only support being a thin, mostly broken bridge leading to it.

“The Temple of Time?” he asked, looking at Rauru, frowning.

“Yes. I believe Zelda said you have one, too?”

Each time he casually mentioned speaking to Zelda sent a jolt of an uneasy jumble of emotions through Link. It sparked both hope and concern. He hadn’t finished his story yet, after all.

“Yes… But it doesn’t look like that.” Link stepped closer to the edge of the flying island, looking down with trepidation. He wasn’t afraid of heights, but this… “I don’t understand. How are we flying right now?”

“Refined Zonaite, I would assume. I am really not very knowledgeable on the matter, though—that was more Mineru’s area of expertise.” Rauru continued to stroke his chin. “What I am most curious about is why these buildings and islands are flying.”

“Why they are flying?”

“In my time, these were all on the ground, Link.” Rauru looked at him. “This was the ground. For some reason, entire sections of the ground were ripped up and placed in the sky.”

“And you don’t know why?”

“I have been in that chamber with Ganondorf since we fought him in my time. When I brought you up here, I will admit that I was not thinking straight. It had been so long since I’d had any freedom to move or even think that I moved by instinct more than anything. I could faintly sense the remnants of Zonai power in the skies, and so I brought you here.”

Rauru considered the view before them. “I did not inspect this place closely as we flew up. My chief concern was getting you to a safe place and stabilizing you. I did not even realize that we were near the Temple of Time, but… perhaps that was what I sensed, all along.”

Link looked down again, and a new thought occurred to him. “How do we get down?”

“That is another question that I have been considering,” Rauru said, turning his attention back to Link. “And I have an idea that should work, now that I’m certain your arm still holds some of my power.”

“What do you mean by that? Your power?”

“I will explain, but not until we’ve gotten off this island.” Rauru floated closer to Link, looking down at Link’s Zonai arm. As Rauru approached, the arm responded, glowing with an inner, ethereal light. “Yes. I can still… feel it, though my connection to it has grown weak.”

“Rauru?”

“Link, you must trust me now. I believe that, with your arm, you may be able to access certain abilities that we Zonai were capable of.”

Rauru stretched out his spectral left hand, leaving it hovering just above Link’s own hand, which was also extended. Link couldn’t remember stretching out his hand like that, though. Had it… moved of its own accord? Had Rauru moved it?

“With our power, we could build magnificent structures and devices in mere minutes, we could lift boulders with a mere thought, and we could even pass through solid objects as if they were water.”

Link watched, perplexed, as Rauru lowered his ghostly hand into Link’s hand. As he did so, Link’s hand pulsed brightly, and suddenly the Zonai was gone. But he wasn’t gone. Though his ghostly form had vanished, Link could still feel him within his head.

“We do not have time to explain right now,” Rauru said, still sounding as though he were right beside Link, despite no longer having a form he could see. “I fear that, if I remain attached to your arm, it may ultimately reject your body. But the longer I stay apart from it, the fainter my connection to it grows.”

Reject my body? Link thought, deciding right away that he didn’t like the way that sounded. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

“Jump off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Link, you must listen to me.” Rauru’s voice had grown sharper, and as he spoke, Link noticed a new, burning sensation in his shoulder. The feeling radiated out from where the Zonai arm had been grafted onto him. “I know that it makes no sense to you now, but I assure you that you will be quite safe, as long as you do not fight me on this.”

Link stepped up to the edge of the sky island, looking down and taking a deep breath. “So you just want me to… jump.”

“Yes. Jump, Link. Fall. You will not be harmed.”

Link was no stranger to risk-taking. He was an avid rock-climber, usually with nothing but his own bare hands and feet to keep him from falling dozens of feet. He didn’t know how many bones he’d broken over the years, and it was probably a miracle that he could even still walk. And all of that was before one considered his combat experience and triumphs. He’d fought monsters that towered over him, creatures of pure power and malice, and came out on top each time.

As such, he knew he would do what Rauru said. Even though he feared it might be suicide, he would do so. He had never gotten anywhere in his life without taking a leap, after all. This was no different.

I sure wish I had the paraglider right about now… he thought, smiling wryly.

“Hope you’re ready to catch me, Rauru.”

Link leaped.

Immediately, his stomach ended up somewhere in the region of his mouth. He spread himself out, arms and legs outstretched, falling facedown towards the island far below. There were patchy clouds between him and it, though, and he watched with amazement as he fell towards one of them.

“What do I do?” he called into the air. He could barely hear his own voice, but Rauru appeared to be able to hear him just fine, and when the Zonai spoke, Link too could hear him over the noise.

“For now, just enjoy the view. This was always one of my favorite things to do.”

Link shut his mouth and had to squint his eyes against the wind he felt in his face. He wished he had some of the goggles he occasionally wore when seal surfing out in the Gerudo desert. The air was cold, too, and it only grew colder—and wetter—as he passed into and out the other side of the puffy, white cloud.

But passing through that cloud gave him a view that was… breathtaking.

The pain in his arm was forgotten. The way his eyes stung was unimportant. Even the fact that he was falling through the sky was pushed to the recesses of his mind.

He could see everything.

Link had stood atop Death Mountain, Hebra Peak, and Mount Lanayru, and none of those heights had ever given him such an incredible view of the world. He was high enough that he felt he could see from one end of Hyrule to the other. He could see Death Mountain, smokey haze rising from its mouth, and Zora’s Domain. There were the Dueling Peaks, far below, and the Great Plateau. Mount Lanayru, the Gerudo Highlands, and even distant Tabantha.

And he saw that this set of islands wasn’t alone in the skies. He could see dozens of floating islands all around. They were sparsely spread out in all directions, some large and others small. Some islands were solitary, individual pinpricks in the distant sky, while others were part of island chains extending thousands of feet into the air. Where had they all come from?

He passed another floating island, and he saw his own shadow briefly flash across its rocky surface. And, finally, he broke. His lips pulled into a grin, and he began to laugh. He was still terrified, yes, but in that moment, he didn’t let himself feel it. That moment felt the same as that first time he’d stepped off and flown with the paraglider. Or like the first time he’d galloped Epona across an open field. He wasn’t falling, he was flying.

By changing the position of his hands, he could make himself turn in the air. He could speed his fall by going into a dive. He could even control the direction of his descent, he found, by angling his body.

Distantly, Link heard a roar, and he looked around, stunned to see a dragon below him. It weaved through the air like an eel, near the Temple of Time. The dragon’s body was long and sinuous, like a serpent, but with four thin legs that moved as if propelling the dragon forward through the air.

Its white scales shimmered in the light, and blue, crystalline spines protruded along its back. Its tail grew thicker, with more of the spines growing along its sides, making it look quite dangerous. The dragon’s head was long and narrow, with a beak-like snout. It had brilliant blue horns reminiscent of a deer’s antlers, and behind its head was a mane of golden hair.

Link realized with a start that he’d never seen this dragon. At first glance, he’d thought it to be Naydra, thanks to its similar coloring, but Naydra’s snout and horns were completely different than this one. Nor was it Dinraal or Farosh. This dragon was new. Had it hidden among the clouds, just like these islands seemingly had?

“Link!” Rauru’s voice rang out in his head, drawing Link’s attention back to the present. He was startled to see that the ground was rising up very fast now.

“What do I do?”

“Dive, with your left hand outstretched!”

“What!?”

“Do it, Link! Now!”

Link did so. He angled his body in a dive, realizing that there was a body of water directly below him. Surely, Rauru didn’t think he could just dive into the water and be unscathed? Link was no cliff diver, but he’d heard of people attempting dives off cliffs, thinking to use the water to soften their fall. The water broke their bones, instead, and took their lives nearly as often.

Those cliffs were quite a bit lower than the sky island he’d just jumped off so recklessly.

The water rushed up to meet him, and Link forced himself to keep his eyes open. He stretched his Zonai hand out, and he saw now that it was glowing a brilliant blue green, far brighter than it had before. It looked just as bright as it had in the dark cavern, despite the bright sunlight.

His hand opened, palm out towards the ground, and Link realized that he hadn’t done that. Rauru had, seemingly, taken control of his hand. And, as he approached the flat surface of the water below, close enough now to make out big lily pads and water grasses, he felt a change.

Link’s hand pulsed with an unfamiliar sensation, but it spread throughout his body. It felt, at once, like he’d passed into a pool of cool water, but without the sensation of being wet. And he realized that he no longer felt the wind blowing against him, and even the sound of it had greatly diminished. He felt lighter. Then he struck the surface of the water.

Except… he didn’t.

Link passed through the water, but felt none of it, nor did it slow his descent at all, as if it were all an illusion. Through the hazy water, he could see the lakebed rapidly approaching, and he began to prepare himself for impact. He released the broken Master Sword from his right hand and tried to pull his left arm back, but heard Rauru suddenly cry, “No!” in his head.

He relinquished control of his arm again and passed into the ground under the lake. At once, everything went black. Darkness was all around, and Link couldn’t breathe. But he could still feel his Zonai arm as it angled up, and Link thought he felt his descent slow—and then stop.

However, he was still in the dark. He was still in the ground.

He felt the first fingers of panic overtaking him. He was underground. No, he was in the ground. He’d somehow passed through a solid surface and was now buried Hylia knew how far underground. Could he dig his way out? He couldn’t tell if he was surrounded by dirt or stone.

“Link!” Raura’s voice in his ear again. “Link, listen to me! You are all right, but I need you to swim.”

Swim? What does he mean to swim? I’m in the ground!

“Link, trust me! With my power, you can pass through solid objects. But it’s more than that—you can move through them. I’ve always viewed it like swimming, and that has worked for me. Pretend you are in a pool of water and swim.”

Link closed his eyes, but that made no difference. He couldn’t see anything, anyway. His lungs burned, but when he tried to breath, there was nothing to fill his lungs. He feared he would die here, having survived his fall, but killed by strange, Zonai magic.

He began to swim. He kicked his legs and reached out with his right arm, and as he did so, he felt some resistance. Not anything solid, yet it did feel like he was swimming through water suddenly. He propelled himself, trusting his outstretched left hand to know the direction he needed to go.

“That’s it! Keep going, Link—you’re almost there.”

He pushed himself, somehow kicking off of solid stone to propel himself faster, and soon began to pull himself with both hands, hoping he was heading in the right direction. His lungs screamed for air, and his thoughts grew increasingly panicked. But he swam, through stone, through dirt, and then water.

He resisted the urge to breathe when he suddenly saw the shimmering light of the sun above him, through the water. He’d passed back out of the ground and into the pool of water that he’d dove into. Lungs straining, he swam the last ten feet, twenty feet, and finally, his head broke the surface.

Link gasped sharply, his long hair covering his face, blinding him again as he gulped down the sweet, fresh air. He filled his lungs twice, three times, four times, before he finally reached up and brushed the hair from his face.

He was surprised to see Rauru floating just above the surface of the water in front of him, smiling broadly, no longer within the arm. “Excellent!” he said. “I worried that wouldn’t work.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Four: Fulfilling a Purpose

Link needed a break after the excitement and terror of the fall. Before climbing onto the surface, however, he dove down to retrieve the Master Sword, which he'd released before passing into the ground. Thankfully, the lake wasn't that deep where he'd dropped it, so retrieving it wasn't difficult.

Makes me wish I still had Magnesis, though, he thought as he climbed up out of the pond. He carefully set the Master Sword down against a rock and then began to strip his wet clothing off. His tunic was already in tatters, and his trousers weren't much better.

He laid out his clothes in the sunlight and then sat on the ground, wearing nothing but his underwear. The wind blowing across the sky island was chilly, but the summer sun overhead helped offset the chill enough to be bearable, quickly drying his skin.

"You've said it several times now," he said, looking at Rauru's floating form. "You think you don't have much time left?"

Rauru shook his head, and Link thought he heard the soft chiming of bells as the spirit did so. "I think not. My sister understood these matters far better than I, but the way I've heard it described is that my spirit can remain so long as it has an anchor. For me, that was my failing body. I… died eons ago, but my power remained, largely thanks to my Sacred Stone."

Link had no idea what a 'Sacred Stone' was, but he didn't stop Rauru as he continued his explanation.

"Even as my body deteriorated, my spirit remained, bound by the same sealing magic that bound Ganondorf. When that failed, however, we were both freed, as you experienced. My spirit was no longer bound to him, but it was still bound to my remaining arm. And, when I gave that arm to you, my spirit was left adrift."

Link looked down at his Zonai hand. He examined the bracer and the spot on the back of it where that tear-shaped stone had rested. Ah, Sacred Stone, he thought. He looked back up at Rauru. "Are you sure? You sealed that… thing—Ganondorf? You sealed him for so long—could you do it again?"

"No. No, not without my Sacred Stone, and even with it, I doubt I could manage it now. He had been growing stronger for a long time before you and Zelda arrived, and my power was failing." Rauru looked at him. "This is for the best, Link. Zelda felt that you would be Hyrule's only hope in your time. I'm more than willing to make this sacrifice to give you that chance."

It pained Link to hear this. He was the hero, dammit, was he not? He couldn't bear the thought of others sacrificing for his sake. Even if he knew they were right. "I… thank you." He fell silent for a time before, finally, he spoke up once more. "Tell me about Zelda. Was she… okay?"

Rauru grew pensive. "The last I saw of her was the same place that I saw her in the present. Our battle to seal Ganondorf. She was essential in allowing me to get close enough to Ganondorf to do so."

"And she was able to time travel?"

The Zonai nodded. "Yes. Your Zelda was—became—the Sage of Time." He paused, expression growing distant. "When she appeared before Sonia and I, we could sense immediately that she had great power. Not only that, but—"

Distantly, from the direction of the strange Temple of Time, a loud gong sounded. A flock of birds took flight from a nearby, yellow-leaved tree. Rauru turned to look out towards the Temple of Time, expression thoughtful. "Interesting. One would think that, after so long, the mechanisms that control that would have stopped functioning."

"Was she—Zelda, was she able to return home?"

The Zonai looked back at Link. "I don't know. She was trying to find a way, and Sonia believed that, once Zelda mastered her powers, she might be able to. But then, so much went wrong." Rauru's ears drooped slightly. "I do not know what happened after I sealed Ganondorf."

Link fell silent. It was all so much to consider. Zelda survived her fall, only to be thrust back into the ancient past, where she happened to meet a Zonai—the very one who would seal that creature beneath Hyrule and save Link's life. It made him think of the concepts of fate and divine machinations—things he had been happy to spend the last few years trying to forget.

He had so many questions, but Rauru's words that his spirit had only a little time left gave him pause. What do I absolutely need to know before he's gone?

Finally, he said, "I want to know who this Ganondorf is, but first, I think you need to help me understand what else can be done with your hand."

"Yes, I agree."

Link pushed himself to his feet, exhaling heavily. He still felt fatigued—irritatingly so. Perhaps it was just the altitude? Except he'd been high up before, though he may not have been this high when flying upon Vah Medoh. His exhaustion felt deeper than thinning air, however. He felt it in his legs, in the muscles in his back, in his arm, especially his Zonai arm. His body felt worn and overexerted.

He didn't have a choice, though, as he gathered up his damp clothes. They hadn't been given nearly enough time to dry in the sun, but he did not particularly want to stay in his undershorts for this, either. He slipped his tunic back on, grimacing at the way one sleeve was just gone. He left the lopsided undershirt off entirely. Next followed his trousers. These showed more wear than he'd expected to see—holes were worn into the knees, and several places were noticeably frayed and thin. They hadn't been like that before, had they?

He swept his hands back through his mane of hair, wishing he had a hair tie. He had one down in the caverns, but somewhere along the way, it had been lost. It was distracting, the way his hair kept falling over his eyes.

Once Link was ready, Rauru led him away from the pond, past more of the trees with yellow leaves, and to a wide-open clearing. As they walked, Link found his curiosity piqued. He didn't recognize these types of trees. The grass, too, was a bright, golden-yellow color, despite feeling lush and healthy. And those weren't the only plants that he didn't recognize from his travels in Hyrule—there were bushes containing unfamiliar fruit and strangely-colored mushrooms growing on the ground.

Rauru paused in the center of the clearing, and Link saw his ears perk. When Link opened his mouth to speak, the Zonai held up a hand, silencing him. Then Link heard it too. A soft whirring sound, followed by a shrill keening sound from right behind him.

"Link, look out!"

Instinct took over, and Link dove forward, tucking into a roll and coming up on the other side of Rauru. He whirled to see the foe before him, the broken Master Sword held tightly in his left hand. There, where he had just been, was a machine. At least, that was what Link thought it was.

The machine, floating a couple of feet off the ground and standing about as tall as Link, seemed to be constructed entirely of rings of various sizes stacked atop one another. Its torso, head, and arms were made of these bands, appearing to be crafted from green and tan stone. Its head and arms floated above and out from the sides of its torso, somehow connected by crackling blue energy. Each arm ended in a hand with three fingers. It had no legs.

Its torso was short, thinner near the bottom, and wider around the arm connections, while its head was slightly larger, possessing a cylindrical shape that tapered in the middle. The center of its face featured a stylized eye symbol reminiscent of the designs Link and Zelda had encountered below. It was topped by a sharp, blade-like horn that seemed more than capable of causing harm, even without the odd sword it held in its hand. The sword had a cylindrical hilt, with a blade composed of the same blue light energy that held the machine's body together.

It came at Link, still warbling its shrill alarm, eye glowing bright red, and swung its sword at him. Its arm could extend, and Link had no choice but to give up ground, lest he find out whether light could cut flesh. In his experience with ancient Sheikah weaponry, it would be able to.

It approached again, relentlessly, and as it wound its arm back to strike, Link jumped forward, stabbing out with the broken Master Sword, striking the machine right in the eye.

The Master Sword bounced off with a sharp clang, and part of the melted and warped blade chipped off, the shard spinning off into the grass.

The machine swung its blade-like horn down, nearly cleaving Link's head in two, and he barely got the Master Sword up in time to block. Too slow! He tried to put distance between himself and the construct, but it swung out at him with its energy blade again. Link's block was sloppy, and the blow was strong enough that it broke his grip, sending the Master Sword spinning away.

He was aware of Rauru saying something commanding, but nothing he said made any sense to him. Either Rauru was speaking in a different language entirely now, or Link just didn't catch what he said.

Defenseless, Link cursed and ducked under another series of swings. He glanced around, looking for any sign of something he could use in retaliation. Unfortunately, all he saw was a handful of fallen branches, and those would be worthless in this fight.

Could he use his hand somehow? He glanced down at his Zonai hand, which pulsed with green light, but he failed to see any way it could be used. Perhaps he could pass through the machine and confuse it, but that still didn't give him a way to counter its armor. He would be willing to bet that the only thing that could pierce through its stone armor was its own energy sword.

That gave him an idea, however.

He stopped retreating and waited for the next attack. As he hoped, the machine wound its arm back and then thrust forward, its blade aimed right for Link's heart. As the blade approached, Link moved to the side, focusing his senses on that weapon.

Everything around him slowed, though his ability to react wasn't hindered. From his perception, time crawled, and the machine's thrust was easy to avoid and capitalize on. He'd never discovered the reason he had this ability, which was thought to be related to the Ancient Sheikah, but after so many years, using it was second nature to him.

It had its limits. Though he could easily change the flow of battle in moments with it, moments truly were all he had to use it. Time would reassert its dominance over him soon enough, so he had to act quickly and decisively.

He reached out with both his hands, wrapping them around the machine's three-fingered hand, sword hilt and all. Despite having arms made up of rings connected only by crackling energy, he felt a great deal of resistance as he worked to turn the blade. He thrust all his weight behind his attack, even as time lurched back into motion, much sooner than he expected. However, by then, it was too late for the machine to react as Link turned its blade back on itself, thrusting it into the construct's chest piece.

The machine died instantly. The crackling energy that held its head and arms aloft fizzled out, and its body fell to the ground in dozens of pieces. Link was left holding its disconnected hand and the cylindrical hilt of its sword. The sword's blade had disappeared as soon as the machine died, as well.

He panted, sweat beading on his forehead. The entire fight had been over in a matter of seconds, yet his body felt as though it had been much longer. His heart raced as if he'd been running, and in the aftermath of using his time-slowing abilities, he felt lightheaded. His legs shook slightly, and the muscles in his arms burned. His left arm, in particular, felt as though it was being stabbed by dozens of tiny needles.

Gods… What is this? Is this the Malice, or the altitude?

"Excellent job, Link! I see now why Zelda spoke so highly of your combat prowess." Rauru floated closer, inspecting the crumpled machine. "It was extremely clever to use its sword against it like that."

Link sat on the ground, still trying to catch his breath now that the adrenaline was fading. He looked up at Rauru. "I feel weak. I should have more stamina than this. That fight was over so fast."

Rauru frowned as he gazed down at Link. "Yes, I see." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"But you must recall—the damage done to your body by Ganondorf was significant. It is entirely possible that, while I managed to save your life by replacing your arm, there was still significant harm done."

Link grimaced, pressing his hand to his chest. "How am I supposed to fight if I get winded after seconds?"

"You'll regain strength in time. His power loses its effectiveness when exposed to sunlight, and I do think my arm should counteract it as well. You won't get worse, but it may take time for your body to recover."

Link nodded. It wasn't that different when a soldier needed to recover from a near-fatal injury. Blood loss, physical trauma, broken bones—all sorts of injuries could weaken the body overall. He knew that…

He just never truly expected it to happen to him.

"I don't have Mipha's protection to keep me going anymore," he muttered, scowling bitterly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing." Link turned his gaze on the hand and sword hilt he still held. He pried the construct's fingers off the narrow cylindrical hilt and dropped the hand to the ground. He inspected the sword, turning it over in his hands. It was colored green and gold and was rounded on one end, while the other end had three fins that Link figured acted as an emitter for the energy blade.

He frowned as he continued his inspection. Finally, he looked back up at Rauru, who was gazing down at the broken machine. "Do you know how to work this?"

Rauru glanced back at Link, eyebrows raising. "Oh. I don't believe you can."

"It was just working a minute ago."

"Yes, but it was being powered by this construct." Rauru motioned for the heap of scrap on the ground. "Without that source of power, that sword is little more than a useless baton."

The Sheikah did it better, Link thought, scowling. "Great. That's… that's just great. And do you know what that thing is?"

Rauru nodded. "Yes. It is a Soldier Construct. I was there when it was made—or at least others like it."

The fact that the machine was Zonai in origin didn't surprise Link, considering all he'd seen today, but Rauru's words gave him pause. "How old is it?"

"I don't know." Rauru bent down, kneeling by the construct, although his legs still hovered a few inches off the ground. "But I do not believe there was any way to manufacture these near here—unless things changed after I sealed Ganondorf. Which would suggest that this machine has been active far longer than we ever expected it to be."

Link grimaced, his thoughts traveling back to the ancient Sheikah Guardians, and the way those machines had turned on their makers and those they were created to protect. Link had what he considered to be a very healthy distrust for anything mechanical in nature.

"And now they've turned hostile."

"Oh, no. That construct acted exactly as I might have expected." Rauru looked around at the distant Temple of Time. "We created them, Link. My sister, Mineru, designed dozens of different types of constructs. There were Soldier Constructs, such as this, which existed to protect this sacred ground. Others were created for other purposes."

"Like what?"

"I had a steward construct." Rauru shook his head. "Insufferable machine. I'm quite certain that Mineru programmed it specifically to annoy me. But we also had constructs to cook, to clean, to build, to mine ore. Any number of uses, really." He paused, looking again at the broken machine. "If the Soldiers are still active, I wonder if others are, too. I never imagined they might continue to carry out their tasks indefinitely, even after all purpose is gone."

Link could see a deep frown forming on Rauru's brow, and he decided to let him be for a moment. Instead, he rose and trudged over to where the Master Sword had flown. He found it easily and was grateful to see that the sword hadn't been broken any further by the blow that sent it flying.

When he turned back, he found Rauru's attention upon him again. Link slid the Master Sword into his belt—he had no scabbard for it now—and stepped closer to Rauru. "Okay. Let's talk about what I can do with this hand."

"Hmm… yes. I have an idea for that. You still have the construct's weapon, do you not?" Link nodded and produced the hilt from a pocket in his trousers. "Excellent. Next, I will ask you to remove the blade from the construct's head."

Doing so proved difficult, but Link finally managed it after wrestling with it for a time. He effectively broke it off the construct's head by stomping on it. It was a clean break, however, and afterwards, he was left with a blade about as long as his forearm. It was sharp on only one side, and it had a golden sheen to it, while the dull edge was green. It matched the coloring of the sword hilt he held.

"Good. Now, Link, I'm going to try to teach you how to fuse the blade to the unpowered hilt."

Link looked up at Rauru in confusion. "What? What do you mean by that?"

Rauru floated closer. "Zonai have an affinity for the forces of nature, especially the connection between objects. You've already seen how you can pass into and through solid objects. I will now teach you how you can fuse two objects into one."

"Like glue?"

The Zonai chuckled. "In a way. Though far stronger and long-lasting than any sort of glue I've ever encountered."

"Okay. What do I need to do?"

First, Rauru had Link do his best to slide the blade in between the trio of fins atop the hilt. That was easier said than done, but with some effort, Link managed to wedge it between two of them. That left the blade slightly lopsided, but it was about the best he figured he could manage.

"Good. Now, I want you to take the sword in your left hand. You are to hold it and focus your thoughts. Imagine that the two parts of the sword are inseparable. They want to be one."

"They want to be one?" Link asked, eyebrows raising as he transferred the cobbled-together sword into his Zonai hand.

The Zonai shot him a look. "Yes. They want to be one. Apart, they are incomplete, but together, they form a new whole."

Link's gaze fell back on the sword, and he attempted to do as Rauru asked. He gripped the sword hilt with his Zonai hand tightly, and he impressed upon the sword just how nice it would be if it were whole.

The blade fell off, sinking point-first into the ground by his feet.

"I guess it disagrees with me," Link said wryly, as he bent to pick it back up.

"You cannot force it with thought alone," Rauru said as Link wriggled the blade back into place. "You must feel it. The certainty that you hold one, single object in your hand."

Link sighed and returned his mind to the task. Yet after several more minutes or attempts, the sword was no more a single weapon than it was when the blade was still attached to the construct.

"You could just… enter my arm again," Link said after sitting down on the ground. "Show me how to do it."

Rauru shook his head. "Could you pass into the ground right now, if you wished it?"

He considered that and had to admit that Rauru was correct. Despite knowing it could be done, Link had no idea how to activate that ability, either. Finally, he said, "Maybe it doesn't work for me. The only time your abilities worked was when you were in control."

"Perhaps. But perhaps we merely need to change tactics. I am quite certain that your arm still holds the remnants of my power within it." Rauru floated in a circle, pacing. "Okay, let us try another ability."

"Great, what's this one?"

"I am going to teach you how to extend your arm's influence beyond its flesh."

Link looked up at Rauru, not understanding in the slightest what the Zonai meant by that.

Rauru smiled. "I am going to teach you how to use telekinesis to manipulate objects without touching them."

Link felt stupid.

He stood there, in the middle of the clearing, left hand extended forward, fingers outstretched. His right hand was braced against his left bicep, helping keep his Zonai arm aloft. It had begun to strain after just a couple of minutes, weighed down by its strange bracer.

He focused his eyes on the Master Sword, which sat on the ground perhaps ten feet away. And, as he stretched his new hand toward it, he drew up the image in his mind of reaching out and plucking it from the ground. He imagined the grey-green fingers of his left hand wrapping around the hilt and lifting it cleanly into the air.

The Master Sword sat resolutely still.

Link exhaled in frustration. "Dammit. This isn't working."

The Zonai looked frustrated, as well. He'd grown irritated with Link's lack of progress with any of his abilities, despite assuring Link that he still believed the abilities should work. Link wasn't nearly so certain at this point. He'd even tried to shove his hand through a tree, but that power had proved just as elusive.

"You must visualize yourself picking up the sword, Link. Picture in your mind—"

Link growled. "I know. I know. But I don't think it is going to work."

"My arm still holds my power—of that, I am certain."

"Maybe so, but clearly I can't tap into it."

Rauru's ghostly ears angled backwards—an indication of his frustration, from what Link had been able to pick up. "If Zonai technology, such as the door mechanism earlier, responds to you, then you clearly can."

"And how many times have you lopped off someone's arm and stuck yours on instead?" Link shot back, cheeks growing heated. The Zonai looked taken aback, and Link immediately regretted his words. He sighed. "Rauru, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It is quite all right. I understand your frustration—your anger, even—"

"I'm not—"

Rauru spoke over him. "And I acknowledge that I am probably pushing you faster than should be reasonably expected." He looked down at his own ghostly left hand. "I fear I do not have much time left now."

Link felt even guiltier about his words and sighed, walking over and plucking the Master Sword off the ground, replacing it at his waist. When he turned back, Rauru's back was to him, eyes on the deep blue sky above.

"When Zelda appeared in my time, Sonia and I did not know what to make of her," he said, and his words sent a jolt of energy through Link at his mention of her. "She seemed young, yet her power was great. However, she had no concept of how she had used it to travel through time, nor how to use it again."

Link stepped up beside Rauru, joining him in looking up at the sky. A bird wheeled overhead, wings outstretched as it rode the currents of air. "Did she tell you about Calamity Ganon? Her struggles to awaken her powers?"

Rauru nodded. "Hmm, yes. And I sensed some of that same frustration in her as she attempted to master her own abilities over time. I suspect the difference then, however, was that she had a teacher in Sonia."

"So she mastered them?"

"As well as one could hope, in the short time that she had to learn them."

Link remained silent for several more seconds before he sighed. "I guess, after everything she went through to master her powers, I don't have anything to complain about."

Rauru looked down at him, smiling faintly. "You are ready to try again?"

Link blew out a heavy breath and walked over to where he'd set the two pieces that he'd been attempting to fuse into a sword earlier. "Well, I figure I still need a weapon." He worked the blade onto the hilt and held it in his left hand.

"Do your best to relax," Rauru said as he floated over. "The power is not about brute force, or even mental willpower. For a Zonai, it is simply an extension of our bodies."

That made Link think back to his days of training with the sword. The way his father and then his formal instructor impressed him to think of the weapon. It was to be more than a tool to swing around—the sword needed to be an extension of his arm. Only when he could truly begin to see and feel the sword as part of himself could he master it. At the time, there had been numerous exercises and drills that Link took part in—something he didn't have time for now. But perhaps…

This sword is more than a tool and more than a weapon, he thought, as he ran the fingers of his right hand along the blade, careful not to dislodge it. It is a part of me. Apart, we are both defenseless and vulnerable, but together we are the weapon that protects the kingdom.

In his mind, he stopped seeing himself as holding the two parts of the sword-to-be. Rather, he envisioned all three of them—himself, the hilt, and the blade—to be one whole. Individually, they were broken, but together…

He felt it happen. As Link immersed himself in the familiarity of his sword training basics, he could sense the moment that his Zonai arm began to shine with the blue-green light. He felt the two pieces of the sword, where they met, where they failed to align. He felt them down to the smallest piece of matter, down to their base components, down to the very materials they were crafted with. He didn't have words for what he found, and yet he understood them in a way he never had before.

Become one, he told them. In his mind's eye, he saw the completed sword—shorter than the broadswords he preferred, but no less deadly when combined with his skill. He felt the blade align itself with the hilt, shifting slightly to straighten itself in response to his mental image.

There was a flash of blue light, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that the sword glowed softly, but the light faded quickly. And it was a sword in his hand now. The blade was well and truly attached to the hilt, by what appeared to be blue-green light. When he attempted to wrench them apart again, he found that the blade was firm. The two had become one.

"Yes, Link. That's it," Rauru said, hovering closer to admire Link's handwork. "Perfect!"

Link gave the sword a few practice swings, considering its balance. The hilt was thinner than he was used to, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it would shatter from one good blow, but it would do in this dire circumstance.

Finally, he looked at Rauru, meeting the spirit's eyes, and smiled. "Well, I guess you were right."

An hour later, Link thought that he was starting to get the hang of the abilities granted to him by his arm. He thrust his hand out, now pulsing brightly with inner power, and lifted a stone from the ground. Despite being a good ten feet away, he could just barely feel the stone's weight in his hand.

Once he had the stone hovering in the air, he rotated it and then thrust his arm to the side, sending it zipping off to the side. He attempted to arrest its movement, to bring it back in an arc like a very misshapen boomerang, but he lost his mental grip on it. The stone sailed through the air a few more feet before falling to the ground.

"Ah, almost had it!" Link said, reaching up and wiping sweat off his brow. The glow in his arm faded as he released the power.

All around him were strange sights that certainly would not have occurred in more natural settings. There was an upright stack of ten rocks, each set atop each other, with the bottommost fused to the ground. There were broken branches that had been fused back together. In the center of the clearing was the construct, upright with its head fused to its body, arms formed by a pair of long sticks. It looked like a ridiculous snowman.

Link thought Zelda would find it funny.

He had also begun to get a feel for how to use the ability to pass into solid objects. It wasn't that functionally different than fuse, in that it required him to visualize himself as being a part of whatever he wished to pass through. But of the powers granted to him by Rauru's arm, it was the one he felt least comfortable with.

Mostly because he couldn't quite get a feel for how to move once he had passed into the ground. More than once in his experimentation with it, Rauru had to take control of Link's hand to help him keep from falling straight through the ground of the sky island and out the other side.

But it was progress, at least.

"Let's take a break," Rauru said. He turned and began floating away, following a path that would take them out of the clearing of trees.

Link didn't argue but instead looked to the place where he had set his Zonai sword on the ground. He reached out with his hand, picturing what he wanted to happen in his mind. At once, the sword leaped up off the ground and flew into his outstretched palm, hilt first. Grinning, he turned and followed Rauru out of the forest.

The sun had risen in the sky now, and Link plucked an apple from a tree as they emerged. The rest of the sky island lay before them, and Link found that there were several things that he hadn't noticed before. Such as the fact that, while there was a large central island, there were easily a dozen or so other islands around or above it, as well. The central island, which held the Temple of Time, had numerous ponds, groves of trees, and a handful of dilapidated old buildings.

"Rauru, how long ago was your time?" Link asked, frowning at the buildings. Most of them, other than the Temple of Time, were in various states of disrepair, true, but that any of them stood at all was surprising.

Rauru stroked his jaw. "I do not know."

"But it was more than 10,000 years ago, right?"

The Zonai looked at him. "You are referring to the event called the Great Calamity? Yes—that happened sometime after I sealed Ganondorf, though I could not tell you how long."

"Then how is the Temple of Time still standing? And the other buildings—like those ones, or the one you brought me to?" Link asked, glancing back up and around at the floating island far above them.

"Hmm… I suspect it must be the caretaker constructs. Look—" He pointed out towards a grove of trees. Link frowned and peered closer, and only then did he see a machine with an axe approaching one of the trees. There were several felled trees near it, as well. "See? Some continue to work, despite the ages that have passed. I suspect that, for a long time, they maintained and even rebuilt many of the buildings here."

Link watched the machine swing its axe at the tree. It was similar in size to the soldier construct, but had a different design, with a longer neck and arms. It was too far away to make out any better details, however.

Rauru began to float down a set of stairs that had mostly been overtaken by nature, which grass poking out of cracks in the stone. At the base of the stairs, Link noticed an odd statue of sorts. It was mostly green, with a cylindrical base, ending in a rounded dome. It had four identical attachments arrayed around the dome, each looking like a big, white egg atop a lampstand. As he got closer, he noticed that each of the 'eggs' bore a texture that looked like a lizard's scales.

Or maybe a closed lotus flower? Link thought, thinking of some of the flowers he'd seen near the Lanayru wetlands.

The statue's cylindrical base was hollow, comprised of three wide rings stacked atop each other, with an opening down the center of each. He saw one of the Zonai eyes on the front of the dome—orange amidst the green. Below the eye was a white section that formed a curved band that protruded from the rest of the dome slightly.

The whole thing was made of similar stonework as the soldier construct had been, with various circular and swirl patterns carved into it. It was made entirely of this stone, except for a black circle of glass in the middle of the white band.

As soon as he approached the statue, that black circle lit up with a bright, yellow symbol, though it was somewhat obscured by the accumulation of dust. It was a circle, with… well, Link wasn't sure what was in the middle of it. It looked somewhat like a feather duster or a broom. Maybe a bell?

The statue shifted, causing dust to fall from it, and he swore, jumping back and drawing his Zonai sword. The thing shifted again, causing more dust to fall, and Link heard a soft whirring sound emanating from it.

"Peace, Link. This will not be a threat to you," Rauru said, his voice betraying curiosity.

Suddenly, the statue expanded, the front of its 'dome' extending and rising on a long neck of floating rings held aloft on a crackling beam of blue-green energy. As this occurred, a pair of long arms, each ending in a four-fingered hand, extended out from within the rings of its base, which had also separated and extended. The whole thing had begun floating a few inches off the ground.

The construct's 'head' dropped, its long neck bending to lower it to be level with Link's eyes. It had two of the lotus flower shapes on either side of its oval-shaped face, with a pair of what he thought were large, stone earrings in the shape of the Zonai eye dangling from each lotus.

Link stood his ground, still gripping his sword tightly in his left hand, but didn't attack. He couldn't see any sign of a weapon on this construct, which he thought must look just like the construct he'd seen chopping down trees.

The construct's head retreated, lifting and gazing down at him, now standing about as tall as Rauru would have, had his feet been on the ground. Then it spoke.

"Please confirm that you are the one called Link."

Its voice was mechanical, not unlike the machine Robbie had made, which he called his Ancient Oven or Cherry when his wife wasn't around. And it spoke in perfect Hylian, lacking even the accent that Rauru had.

"What?" Link looked from the construct to Rauru, who looked equally as surprised as he felt.

"Please confirm that you are the one called Link."

"I—yes. Yes, I'm Link."

The construct whirred softly for a moment. "Link. I have waited for you."

"Waited for me? How? Why? How did you know I'd be here?"

"Zelda instructed me to wait and to give you her Purah Pad when you arrived."

Once more that day, Link as though the ground had given out beneath him. The sword fell out of his limp grip, clattering on the stone ground.

Zelda.

"What? Zelda spoke to you? When? Where?" His heart raced with the implication. Zelda had been here. She'd spoken with this very machine.

The white band across the machine's torso slid forward, revealing itself to be a drawer. Link took a step forward, looking in amazement to find Zelda's Purah Pad within, pristine and whole, resting on an old cloth.

Link reached in and picked it up with reverent hands. It was a bit dusty, and he wiped some of that away before turning it over to see the ancient Sheikah eye glowing on its glass face. Zelda…

Dread grew within Link. The construct had not said how long it had been waiting for Link to arrive, and the presence of so much dust on it suggested that Zelda hadn't spoken to it earlier that day. He looked sharply back up at the construct. "When did Zelda give this to you? How long have you had this?"

"Link…" Rauru said, voice soft.

The construct tilted its head at Link once more, whirring softly. "My internal chronometer ceased functioning an indeterminable amount of time ago. I am unable to ascertain how long it has been since that failure. However, my records indicate that 1,724 years passed from the time that Zelda placed the Purah Pad into my care before my chronometer ceased."

"No…" Link trembled with this new blow to his hopes of finding Zelda. Why would she have given up her Purah Pad if she had discovered a way to make her way back to the present? He looked down at the device again, horrified.

"Zelda also wished for me to inform you that she is waiting for you within the Temple of Time."

Hope burst alive within Link once more. "She is? She's here?"

"This is the Garden of Time. She is waiting for you within the Temple of Time."

Rauru grinned broadly. "So she did find a way to return."

Link laughed and took off running.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five: Recall

The journey across the sky island was far more exhausting than Link had anticipated. For one, he ended up needing to dive off one island and onto another shortly after leaving the construct. Rauru had encouraged him to try this himself, but ultimately Link convinced the spirit to aid him. It wouldn't do to break his neck up here, mere hours from reuniting with Zelda.

He also encountered more of the soldier constructs, which seemed more active the closer he got to the Temple of Time. Even with his newly forged sword, they were more than a handful to deal with, mostly because of their armor. So, he handled things the way Purah always claimed he did—mostly by beating on the machines until they broke. He found that interrupting the stream of energy from a construct's torso to its limbs was a good method to disrupt them, which gave him openings to land more critical strikes.

In the end, Link amassed two more of the Zonai energy swords and a spear that he used as a makeshift walking staff. He also found a wooden shield on one of them, which he gladly relieved its broken owner of.

But the effort was taxing. Even though the trip to the Temple of Time was only a few miles, at most, he found that he needed to take breaks often. Sweat dripped down his brow in heavy rivulets, and his clothing remained damp, despite the afternoon sun overhead. There was a cool headwind that blew across the island, both helping cool Link but also slowing him down further.

He figured that he was, maybe, a mile from the Temple when he took what he hoped to be his final break. He wanted to keep going, but the prospect of encountering more of the constructs gave him pause. He figured Zelda could wait a few extra minutes.

He removed the Purah Pad from his waist, looking down at it thoughtfully. He hadn't taken the time to inspect it since retrieving it from the construct, so excited was he to see Zelda again. But now he turned it on, watching the Sheikah eye appear and then disappear, replaced by a handful of icons on a black background.

There were only a couple of icons now, and Link found that he wished some of the older icons were available. The Bomb Rune, certainly, would have come in handy against the constructs, as would Stasis. But those, like the vast majority of other Sheikah equipment, had ceased working when Zelda and the Sheikah shut down the ancient technology. It was the right decision, in Link's mind, considering the threat that the Yiga Clan posed with their technological advances, as well as the possibility of other threats.

He knew how badly Zelda had lamented that decision, comparing herself to the king of old, but they also experienced just how destructive that technology was when co-opted by evil intent. There wasn't a soul in Hyrule alive today who didn't bear the physical or mental scars from the Calamity, either from its first emergence or through the final battle against it and its minions.

But Purah's machinations would never have stopped there. The day after the technology was shut down, she had already begun work to salvage what she could to build along a new path that she claimed would have security from outside influence in mind from the start.

She rebuilt the Sheikah Slate from the ground up, salvaging components from the old ones, and had gifted Zelda with it one year after the shutdown. At the time, it only had the camera and rudimentary map runes, but it was something.

Since then, Purah had been hard at work, he knew. How that woman managed so many projects, he would never know, though he was aware that she had recruited several other Sheikah as research assistants and project leads. Robbie and Jerrin, the husband-and-wife pair of researchers who had helped Link so much during his fight against the Calamity, had been folded in, as well as several other proteges.

The Purah Pad, in its current state, only had four runes—the camera, the gallery, the telescope, and the map; all of them had been improved and iterated upon since their creation. Link first pressed the gallery, both curious and wary of what he might find, but surprisingly, found only photographs he knew about. There were photos from before he and Zelda ventured below ground, as well as pictures from their journey. There were photos of the Zonai statues, and the final image was that of the large mural they'd discovered.

Frowning, Link exited the gallery and attempted to access the camera, but that rune seemed to be non-functioning. As soon as he pressed it, the Purah Pad went dark, rebooting itself. When it turned back on, a line of text scrolled across the screen. "Check it! The Camera Rune is broken. What did Link do to it this time? Bring it to me and I'll fix it up."

He rolled his eyes, smirking. Leave it to Purah to find ways to ridicule him, even in the machines she made. He moved on to the map, bringing up a detailed map of Hyrule. It did not seem to know where he was, however, as the dot that usually signified his location was missing. Not surprising, considering I'm up in the sky.

He wouldn't be surprised if Purah decided to send some of her minions up to some of the sky islands somehow. If these were to stay in the skies over Hyrule, he suspected she would want to map them out and start researching the old technology up here.

He noticed with some satisfaction that he could see the handful of permanent teleportation locations that Purah had established. There was one in Central Hyrule, in the small settlement that had sprung up as a hub for ongoing building efforts across the region, as well as ones in Hateno and Kakariko Villages. As long as the Purah Pad's teleporting functionality still worked, Link should have a way off this island.

Like everything related to the ancient Sheikah, the ability to teleport across Hyrule in an instant had stopped working. Each of the Sheikah Shrines had gone dark, their travel pads inactive, just as they had been before, and Purah had made it a priority to find a way to recreate that technology.

Only very recently had she finally achieved the breakthrough needed. Unfortunately, there was no option to reactivate the old shrines and the old transport network that Link had helped create. Instead, Purah had managed to craft more portable teleportation points that could be placed and activated.

"Rauru, did Zelda ever show you this?" He turned to look at the Zonai spirit, but frowned when he didn't see him anywhere nearby. "Rauru?" Link stood, frowning deeply. "Rauru!"

"I'm here." Rauru reappeared, seeming to fade back into existence. He reached up, placing a hand against his head, though, and looked confused.

"Where were you?" Link asked, both relieved and concerned by Rauru's reappearance.

"I… don't know." Rauru met Link's eyes. "We were traversing together, and then I was here." He looked at the Temple of Time. "I do not think I was gone for long."

"That you were gone at all is—are you all right?"

Rauru's expression grew weary. "It is like I said, Link. My time grows short. I suspect my consciousness is beginning to fade as my connection to your arm weakens."

To hear that pained Link, but he had enough experience with spirits to have at least some understanding of what Rauru meant. He clipped the Purah Pad back to his belt and stood, grabbing up the Zonai spear. "Then we'd better keep going. I'm sure Zelda will wish to say goodbye as well."

The Temple of Time towered over Link, with each of its four tiers larger than the one beneath it, creating a structure that appeared far too top-heavy to be stable. This was especially true since much of it seemed to float in the air, off the side of the sky island. The underside featured multiple inverted stone spires, although some had crumbled, exposing metallic rods within. According to Rauru, it was these rods that allowed the Temple of Time to hover as it did, and Link would likely discover similar spires and rods beneath all the floating islands.

Getting up to the entrance of the temple was a challenge, largely due to the stairs leading up to it having crumbled. Thankfully, the broken stone hadn't been a difficult climb for Link, and soon he stood before the doors, winded, but pleased.

The massive, two-story doors were primarily made of the same white stone that the rest of the temple was, with Zonai text etched into it on both sides. Various other designs were present too—swirls, circles, and one large, golden eye. At eye-level, however, split between the two doors, was a large circle of green stone, surrounded by a gold ring. As Link approached the doors, the same glowing projection of the Zonai eye and hand symbol appeared, overlaying the circle of stone beneath.

Link exhaled slowly, approaching the door, looking down at his left hand. He wondered what Zelda would think when she saw it. Doesn't matter, he thought, smiling, and then placed his hand up to the projection.

Just like before, the projection flashed, a pulse of light originating from under his hand and pulsing out, dissolving the projection as the light passed. He waited, and then he heard a loud click from somewhere within. The two doors began to part slowly, dust cascading down as they opened.

Inside was a lavish, open room with a ceiling that stretched up multiple floors. Most everything appeared to have been carved from white marble, except for places that were accented with gold or other colors. There was a walkway that led up a flight of stairs to a raised section, and on either side of the stairs were tiered fountains, water splashing down in streams.

Link walked up the stairs, expecting to see Zelda appear at any moment. But when he got to the top, he still couldn't see her. The upper level, however, was unique in its own right. A pair of the wheels like he'd seen earlier in the building he'd woken in sat side by side, while a third one sat between them and perpendicular to the other two, all spinning in time with each other. Lanterns made with the closed lotus flower design cast a pale light around the chamber.

In the center of the room, upon a raised plinth, there was a white altar, and floating above the altar was a giant tear-shaped stone, which glowed with golden light. It had a design etched into it that Link didn't recognize.

"Zelda?" Link called, cupping his mouth to ensure he could be heard throughout the chamber. "Zelda!" Rauru floated into the room with Link and gasped softly. Link looked back at him, eyebrows lifted. "What?"

Rauru floated closer to the altar and the stone. "The Sacred Stone of Time…"

Link looked at the Zonai and then at the floating stone. He stepped closer to him, frowning at it. "You've mentioned the Sacred Stones before, but you didn't tell me what they are."

"They are powerful artifacts from my people. They each have the power to amplify the power their possessor has. In my time, we called such individuals sages."

"And you said that Zelda was the Sage of Time?"

"Yes."

"And this is the Sacred Stone of Time?"

Rauru glanced at Link. "Yes. And notably, it still bears her markings. It is still bonded to her. She is alive, Link."

Link's heart thudded in his chest at those words, and he looked back up at the Sacred Stone. Hesitantly, he reached up, placing his hand against its surface, finding it cool to the touch. Then the stone flashed, and Link was bathed in its golden-white light.

When the light faded and he could see again, he no longer stood in the Temple of Time's inner chamber. The altar was still there, but everything else was white fog.

And Zelda was there.

She floated in the air before the altar, eyes closed, hands clasped over her breasts in a supplicating position. She was dressed in unfamiliar clothing—a green dress with white layers, an elaborate tabard down the front, covered in Zonai iconography and golden tassels, a pair of glass earrings that looked like the lotus lamps, a necklace, bracelets, and even a circlet across her forehead with the Zonai eye emblazoned in its center. From her necklace hung the golden Sacred Stone, now a much smaller size.

"Zelda!" Link said, taking a step forward, eyes wide. But he hesitated when she didn't respond. He swallowed and spoke again. "Zelda, are you—you're here—are you all right?"

Again, she didn't respond. Her eyes remained closed, and her face passive. He noticed what looked like white teardrops that had been either painted or tattooed onto her face, beneath her eyes.

She was breathtaking.

"Zel, please… What's going on? What is this?"

Finally, she moved. She lowered her hand, holding it out towards him, as if waiting for him to take it. Her eyes were closed, and she didn't say a word. Link hesitated, looking at her hand, before he stepped forward and reached out, gently taking it in his own. Her hand was soft and warm and real.

She was real.

Link wrapped his fingers around her hand and, after a moment, gently tugged on her arm. He didn't know why she was floating there, why she wasn't responding, but he wanted to bring her from this place. To pull her into his arms.

But she didn't move. She remained resolutely in place, and though the bangles on her arms jingled with Link's attempt to move her, she gave no outward response. But her hand was warm and growing warmer.

The light from her Sacred Stone pulsed, and then her entire body began to shine before the glow coalesced behind the stone. The light traveled over to her shoulder and down her arm, towards their linked hands.

"Zelda, please, tell me what's going on," Link said, eyes on the glowing light approaching their clasped hands. "Say something!"

She didn't, but the light continued down her wrist and into her hand. And then it passed from her hand into Link's, causing his Zonai arm to shine with her golden hue. Her hand loosened in his, and he reluctantly let her go, inspecting his arm.

The light concentrated on the back of his hand, in the place that Rauru's Sacred Stone had once sat. There was a pulse of power and warmth that washed over Link's arm and body; then it faded, and the only sign of its presence was a new etching that had appeared on the bracer. It was the same symbol that had been on the giant Sacred Stone.

Zelda's symbol.

"I don't understand," Link said, looking back up at her. Her hand had returned to its place, clasping her other hand. Her eyes were closed. Her body was rigid, still floating a foot or so off the ground. And then she began to fade.

"No!" Link reached out to grab her arm, but his hand passed right through her. His heart raced as he tried again, but it was no use. She faded from view, and so too did the misty room.

In moments, he was back in the chamber at the heart of the Temple of Time. The Sacred Stone was gone. Zelda was gone.

"Dammit!" he said, slamming his fist down onto the stone altar. "Godsdammit!"

He felt Rauru's presence beside him, but the Zonai waited several moments before speaking, waiting for Link's initial outburst to pass. "I'm sorry, Link."

Link turned from the altar, clenching his fists tightly enough that he thought he might draw blood with his sharp nails. "Did you see her?"

"Yes. As soon as you touched the Sacred Stone, I saw and felt her presence, though I was… unable to approach. I believe that the vision was to be for you alone."

"What was it? I felt her hand."

"I'm not sure." Rauru rubbed his jaw. "I've never seen power manifest in that way before. The closest would be my sister's power, but this was different. It made me think of an echo—a projection of Zelda's will—but passing on her power like that…"

"Passing on her power? What do you mean?"

"Do you not feel it? Zelda, somehow, passed her power as the Sage of Time to you without giving you her Sacred Stone. I've never seen anything like it."

Link lifted his hand and gazed at the symbol on the back of his wrist. He could feel it, now that Rauru drew attention to it. There was a new reservoir of power within him, both somehow familiar and unfamiliar. It was a foreign sensation, yet it was also distinctly Zelda.

"What is it? What can I do with it?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around the new sensation.

Rauru hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not sure, but one of the most common uses I saw Zelda use was an ability she called Recall." He lifted his ghostly left hand, looking at the back of his wrist. Link could see that the etching of Zelda's symbol had appeared there, mirroring Link's physical hand. "It allowed her to reverse an object's passage in time."

The Zonai must have seen something of the confusion Link felt on his face, for he chuckled. "I truly wish I could tell you more, but I do not know much else. Zelda and Sonia could use the ability to cause objects to reverse their motion."

"What do you mean?"

Rauru contemplated his answer for a time. "Imagine someone throws a knife at you. With Recall, you could cause the knife to fly back to the one who threw it. Reverse its position back to a previous point in time."

Link tried to picture it in his head and even attempted to see it for himself, dropping his wooden shield to the ground and trying to use this new ability. Nothing happened. He could comfortably pick it up telekinetically, but that wasn't at all what Rauru had described. Yet try as he might, he couldn't quite figure out how to activate this new power available to him,

"Hm, I suppose it may take some time for you to get a feel for it. I recall Zelda struggling with it at first, even after inadvertently sending herself back through time."

Link looked up. "Wait. Could I do that, too? Send myself back to your time? Back to see Zelda?"

Rauru frowned. "I do not know, Link, but it would be unwise. Ganondorf has awoken in your time, and I can only imagine the destruction he has planned now that he is free. Zelda believed that you were the greatest hope Hyrule had to defeat him."

Responsibility settled down onto Link's shoulders like an old, familiar coat. Heavy and unwieldy, yet something he was more than accustomed to. He grimaced, looking again down at his hand. I don't know, Zel… I can barely walk a mile without needing to stop for a breather, and the Master Sword shattered in seconds against that monster. I need more than a few mystical powers.

He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He'd had many of the same doubts when presented with the task of freeing the four Divine Beasts and destroying Calamity Ganon. But he prevailed then with the help of his allies, and he wouldn't let himself dwell on his fears now. Not when he still knew so little.

For a time, he stood there, eyes closed. The cogs and mechanisms in the Temple of Time formed a cacophony that, at first, formed a dull buzz in the background of his mind—stone on stone, water lapping in pools, the sound of wind whistling through the structure. But as he stood there, he began to realize that it wasn't one steady sound; it had a subtle, but steady rhythm. The sounds seemed to ebb and flow again and again, at the same intervals.

Like a clock.

The Temple of Time, he thought, distantly amused.

Immersed in the flow of time, he reached out towards the shield on the ground again. He could feel its place, not only in space, but in time. It was there, moving right alongside him, ever forward. And yet…

His arm pulsed bright gold, and the shield stopped and reversed. An outside observer likely would have never seen the change—the shield had been sitting on the ground for several minutes now. But Link could see it. He felt the flow of time reverse around the shield, though it was not without resistance. Time, it would seem, had a current much like that of a river.

But Link pushed, and the shield continued in its backwards path. It lifted from the ground briefly before settling back down—a reverse of Link's experiments with telekinesis. It sat for a time longer. And then, suddenly, it popped back up into the air, hanging there, right where it had been when Link had dropped it.

He settled his arm into it, wrapping his hand around the grip, and released his hold of it in time. There was something like an elastic band snapping back into place—a release as the shield gained weight and momentum again, and time reasserted its hold on it.

Link released a heavy breath, eyes wide as he looked down at the shield on his arm. He'd done it. He'd used the Recall ability. Zelda's ability. And, more than that, for the briefest of moments, he thought he'd heard her voice calling out to him.

"Zelda?" He turned his head, looking for the source of the whisper he knew he had heard.

"Link…"

There it was again. A whisper in the air, barely audible among the sounds of the massive clockwork structure. He could hear it, all the same, like a voice in his soul. He stilled, eyes half-closed, listening. Searching.

Please, he thought. Please be here.

As he listened, he heard the faint tingling of bells. Rauru floated up beside him, ears perked as he looked to Link. "What is it?" he asked.

Link shook his head, holding up a finger to forestall the Zonai. He felt something. It drew him as if he were a fish caught by a hook. As he focused on the sensation, he thought the sensation originated from his arm—his Zonai hand. And whatever it was, it pulled him ever forward.

Behind the altar and raised above the water wheels was another tiered floor in the open chamber. Twin staircases on either side of the altar led up to the higher landing, where the room ended in a wall and a pair of massive, white stone doors. The circular dragon symbol that Link had seen earlier was emblazoned across the two doors in gold and green trim.

That was where he felt drawn to. Something beyond that door beckoned him, and without thinking, he began to climb the stairs.

Zelda? he thought, heart racing. Rauru had called her earlier appearance an echo—a projection. Could she be calling to him now, from wherever she was? Could Link somehow… reach her with the power she granted him? Pull her back?

He heard Rauru follow, bells tinkling in the silent wind. They sounded distant, though Link barely noticed. He climbed the stairs, passed the three water wheels, and then stood before the doors. Gold trim lined the inside edges of the doors, and he could see a sliver of daylight peeking through the gap between them.

He approached, looking up at the stone, daunted by their massive size. And yet, below the dragon symbol was the eye symbol, and within it, on either side of the golden iris, were a pair of Zonai handprints.

Link placed his hands on these, one Hylian and one Zonai, and pushed. At first, the door didn't budge, and he gritted his teeth, leaning into it, pressing with all his strength and weight. His muscles strained. His shoulders ached, and his calves burned. His left arm throbbed, and he curled his fingers, scraping his pointed fingernails against the stone.

Finally, the stone shifted the slightest amount, and then the doors began to pull away from Link, opening wide of their own accord. He gasped and nearly stumbled, righting himself and standing back up straight as the sliver of light grew, and a powerful gust of air blew in from the opening.

Beyond the door was a long, stone path that extended out, beyond the temple of Time's structure, into the open air. At the end of the path was another shallow staircase leading up, through a stone arch, to a circular platform.

There, Link thought. That's where I need to go.

He didn't know what he would find or why that pulling sensation within him drew him to that place, but he knew he must go. He took a step forward.

"Link," Rauru said from just behind him. "Wait."

He turned to look back and found the Zonai floating just within the Temple, his hair seeming to blow in the wind. He was fading, blue-green particles like motes of dust floating from him into nothing.

"Rauru!" Link stepped back into the temple, reaching towards the spirit. "Enter my arm again. I'm sure that we can find a way—"

"No." The word stopped Link short, but Rauru's face was calm and patient. He smiled. "My time has come, Link. I do not fear it."

Link closed his fingers into a fist and allowed his arm to drop. He tried to form words, but none came to his lips. He had been here before, watching an old spirit pass from this world to the next, and just like then, he knew he was powerless to stop it.

"It is quite all right," Rauru said, gazing down at his left arm. It grew increasingly insubstantial and translucent. The pointed nails at his fingertips had all but dissolved. "I have lived a very long time. I do not regret my decision to seal Ganondorf and only wish I had the foreknowledge to do so sooner, before…"

He trailed off, eyes lifting to look out at the open, blue sky. He smiled again, even as his feet and hands faded away. "It is a relief to be finished, though I am sorry for the burden you must now carry."

"There's so much I don't know," Link said. "He destroyed the Master Sword. How am I supposed to face that? How can I defeat him?"

Rauru turned his gaze once more to Link. "Zelda believed in you, Link. She never wavered in that belief, as long as I knew her. And you are exactly as she said.

"I've done all I can for you and her. I believe she has a plan—a way to see it done. Her presence here, granting her power to you—it all speaks to her wisdom."

A lump grew in Link's throat as Rauru continued to fade. He tried to think of something to say; one last question to ask. A dozen came to mind, but ultimately, he chose none of them. "Thank you for giving me this chance, Rauru. I won't forget your sacrifice."

Rauru's smile grew, eyes twinkling, even as he faded out of sight. "Though our time together was brief, I am so happy to have finally met you. Zelda's confidence in you is well-placed, my friend."

Link watched as the motes of light faded into nothing. Rauru was gone. The light that had emanated from Link's arm as the Zonai spoke faded, and he was left alone, once more.

He exhaled shakily and looked at his hand, and then around, spotting a golden leaf that had blown in through the open door. He reached out to it, focusing, and the leaf suddenly lifted into the air, floating into his waiting palm. The power granted to him by Rauru was still present, despite his spirit's departure.

He released the leaf, allowing it to drift into the Temple of Time on the breeze, before he walked back out into the sunlight. Emotions roiled within him—fear and despair and pain, mixed with a spark of hope. He still felt that pull, and though he couldn't hear her voice, it seemed to him that Zelda was calling.

As he walked, he looked to the side of the path and saw nothing but clouds and the ground far below. The stone beneath his feet felt sturdy and stable, but the further out he walked, the more the wind buffeted him from all directions. It swirled around him, sending his loose hair flying. He was careful to stay in the center of the path, lest he stumble and fall over the edge.

The further he went, the stronger and more familiar that pull became. His heart beat a rapid cadence in his chest as he mounted the stairs, crossing beneath the stone arch, and walked out onto the circular platform at the end.

The only thing he found, however, was a small, unadorned stone bench. It was rectangular and stood only waist high. It was long enough that he could have lain on it, and he suspected he knew its purpose. It looked not at all unlike a ceremonial bier, upon which a body would be displayed for funeral rites before entombment.

It unsettled Link greatly that this was where he felt called to.

For several seconds, there was silence, save for the wind rushing around him. Then even that sound stopped. Link gasped as the air grew still, and the wind ceased, and before him, just above the bench, an orb of warm, golden light burst into being. At the same time, the back of Link's hand, where the symbol of Zelda's power had been etched into his bracer, began to glow with the same light.

"Zelda?" Link said, hesitantly reaching out to the source of light over the bench. He felt warmth there and familiarity. It felt like Zelda, yet it wasn't her. There was something else—another presence that he thought he should know.

The light pulsed, and he, again, felt that pulling sensation. The presence seemed to speak, but there were no words, and he didn't understand. He opened his mouth to respond, anyway, but then another presence joined his mind.

This one, he knew.

He gasped as he felt the Master Sword rouse, as if from a deep slumber. He felt the spirit within, weak, damaged, confused, yet alive. He pulled the sword free, heart thudding in his chest as their minds touched. As always, it did not speak to him in words, but in sensations and intent.

Let go, it seemed to say to him.

He didn't know what would happen next. He didn't understand why the sword woke now, nor why it wished him to place it in that light. But if the Master Sword could be helped, if it could be healed, he would do whatever it requested.

Hesitantly, he stretched out his hand, holding the Master Sword up towards the light. His Zonai hand shone even brighter as it approached the orb of brilliance. Once more, he was struck by the familiarity of the presence, yet it was different, all the same. It made him think of Zelda, but it also seemed to reflect the spirit of the Master Sword. It was power unlike anything he had felt before.

He released the Master Sword, and the sword remained in the air, suspended before his eyes. He withdrew his hand slightly, watching with wide eyes as the golden light expanded around the sword, enveloping it.

Please, he thought, desperate. And, in response, he thought he felt a sense of purpose in the Master Sword—purpose and determination. The light pulsed one last time, as did Link's hand.

And then the Master Sword was gone.

He cried out, lunging forward, but his fingers found only empty air. The glow from both the spot over the bench and his hand faded. His fingers closed into a fist, and he released a snarl of anger, slamming both of his hands down on the stone bench.

"Bring it back! Give it back to me!"

He couldn't feel the Master Sword in his mind any longer. The golden presence, likewise, was gone. The wind blew freely around him, whipping his hair about and howling in his ears. He pounded the stone bench again and again, causing pain to flare up his arms, but he didn't care.

Everything was wrong. Everything had gone wrong! Zelda had disappeared, the Master Sword had been broken, and even his own Hylia-cursed arm had been taken from him! He screamed in frustration, closing his eyes tightly while pressing his palms to the bench. He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and he bared his teeth in a grimace of agony.

A bellowing roar rent the air, and Link's eyes shot back open. He whirled, stumbling and sitting down hard on the bench as, from beneath the clouds just below the floating island, a dragon rose high into the air.

It was the same dragon that he had seen before. Golden-maned with blue crystal formations along its back. Six legs, each ending in long claws. Its body undulated as it rose from the clouds, its long tail appearing to stretch into eternity. And then, finally, it was free of the clouds, continuing to climb high into the sky.

Link watched in awe, but his reverie was broken as his Zonai arm flared with sudden white-hot agony. He cried out, gripping his upper arm with his other hand. It felt much like before, when Ganondorf's power had first consumed it—as if he had dipped his arm into liquid fire. Tears fell from Link's eyes as his arm seemed to writhe beneath his fingers, like worms crawling just underneath his skin.

The pain lasted for nearly a minute before, finally, fading. When his arm returned to feeling normal, Link's body was drenched in sweat. He panted from exertion, and when he let go of the arm, there were already signs of bruising where he had been gripping it—a faint handprint in its bicep. His left palm bled from several small cuts, where he had pierced it with his sharp nails.

He breathed shakily, staring at the arm. The pain was gone, yet he could still feel the echoes of it. Fire. Agony. A profound wrongness that lingered. This wasn't his arm. It had been grafted onto him. He would use it, but he knew it wasn't his. And perhaps the arm knew it, as well.

"Link…"

He shot to his feet, eyes wide. "Zelda?" He whirled, looking for the source of her voice. There was no denying it this time. He had clearly heard her this time. "Zelda!"

"Link… You must find me."

Chapter Text

Chapter Six: A Champion's Return

Purah hated administration. Her sister was an administrator. Her niece was an administrator. Her former assistant was an administrator. She was a scientist and an inventor, and she was damn good at it, too.

And yet, ever since Zelda and Link decided to galivant off into the wild depths of Hyrule, administration had been thrust upon her. At first, it was questions like, "Oh, Purah, whatever will we do? Link and Zelda and been gone an awfully long time!"

And then, "Doctor Purah, the sky is falling and the castle is flying! What should we do?"

And there was, of course, "Oh my gods, we're all going to die! Purah, what do we do?"

How the hell was she supposed to know why the Castle got lifted up on a giant column and enormous islands appeared, floating, in the skies overhead, occasionally raining debris down on hapless Hylians? Sure, she suspected it had something to do with Link and Zelda—they certainly stirred something up down there—but she was as clueless as the next person!

Well, mostly.

She quickly realized that the islands overhead had something to do with Zonai—that much was obvious. Probably could have figured that out even faster if every poor sap in Lookout Landing hadn't been pounding on her door and crying about how the Calamity had returned and they were all doomed.

Snap, she hated having to figure all this stuff out. A veritable wealth of history and technology thought lost to time, basically at her fingertips, and she was stuck in a pitiful little outpost outside of Hyrule Castle Town, helping figure out where they needed their militia to go fight monsters and how to get supplies to the Rito.

Zelda would have been perfect for this. For all her blathering about not being the princess anymore, she took to leadership and administration as naturally as Link took to breaking things. Purah hoped she would be back soon.

She has to be, right? she thought, grimacing as she looked out her window at the distant castle. She and Linky are okay—they're probably just trapped somewhere. Linky is probably hitting some rocks with his sword while Zelda is admiring strata or a weird mushroom she found. Anytime now, they'll just appear, perfectly well and unharmed, to save the world again.

She truly hoped that would be the case. She didn't want to know what would happen to them all if she was wrong. There was something… wrong with Hyrule. More than the resurgence of the monsters, more than the floating islands, more even than the castle's ascension on that enormous stone pillar. The miasma that had been seeping from the ground in the night had grown stronger and more potent.

And then there were the holes.

The door to her study slammed open, and Purah whirled, scowling. "Who-!"

"Doctor Purah!" said a mousy girl with her grey-white Sheikah hair pulled into a trio of buns—one on either side and a topknot. She was dressed in traditional Sheikah garb and wore a pair of spectacles clearly modeled off Purah's own round lenses.

Josha was a bright star among the sea of idiots that surrounded Purah half the time. Though young—barely 16, as far Purah could remember—she had a mind for science and logic that rivaled Purah's own at that age. And, gratefully, she was actually good at administrative tasks and could work independently.

"Josha! What did I tell you about barging in like that?"

"Oh, sorry, Doctor! But I wanted to tell you the news!"

Purah's curiosity peaked, but she raised one thin eyebrow, trying her best to look all stern like Impa. "Well? Snap, what is it, girl?"

"I just got the report from the team we had investigating the chasm in Hyrule Field!" Josha bounded into the room, carrying a sheathe of paper with several equations and diagrams drawn onto it. The girl's handwriting was atrocious, worse even than Purah's, which honestly was saying something.

Purah snatched the paper out of Josha's hand, looking it over quickly. Then she looked up at her young assistant, skeptical. "This can't be right. 500 meters? How does a hole, 500 meters deep, appear overnight?"

"It isn't just a hole, though." Josha was practically bouncing now, teeth showing in her grin. "They reported a whole cavern down there. With an actual ecosystem. Plants and wildlife!"

Purah's curiosity was peaked, and she found herself beginning to get excited. "What kind of wildlife? And could the plants have fallen in when the holes appeared?"

"I don't know yet, but Doctor. They also found ruins. Evidence of an ancient civilization."

"Sheikah?"

"I don't—"

"Well, snap, what are you doing here? We need to figure that out!"

Josha's grin only grew, and now she did bounce. "Right! That's why I thought that I could try to lead an expedition down into the chasm. The survey team is great and all, but they aren't any good with details."

Purah didn't immediately answer, continuing to look over the paper. She reached the bottom and found a small sliver of text, written hastily near the end. Miasma sickness rendered one member of the team nearly catatonic. Team had to conduct emergency evacuation.

"Wait, what's this?" Purah asked, looking back up at Josha.

"Hmm? Oh!" Josha's voice rose slightly in pitch, and her cheeks reddened. "That was part of the report from the survey team. I guess one of them ended up getting sick from the miasma down in the hole."

The girl tried to sound nonchalant about the whole situation, but Purah could see right through it. She rolled her eyes. Josha was a genius, true, but she was also a terrible actress.

"And you want to go down there? Snap, Josha! You know that isn't going to happen."

"Oh, but Doctor!" Josha's nonchalant expression dissolved into one of pleading. "You know as well as I do that we can't rely on the survey members to give us good reports! They aren't scholars—I am."

Purah snorted. "No, Josha! You aren't going to go exploring the giant hole in the ground spewing poison. We're going to leave that to the survey team until it's safe."

The words irritated Purah just as much as she knew they irritated Josha. She wanted nothing more than to be lowered down into the hole herself, just to catch a glimpse of the world beneath. But she had to be responsible, damn it, as much as she hated it. Impa had been rubbing off on her too much.

Josha pouted but didn't argue further. Purah wasn't surprised—the young girl was stubborn as a mule, but she was still respectful about it. She did not doubt that Josha would ask again in the future, but she wouldn't argue.

Purah shooed her out, snapping at her to go get more details from the survey team about the ruins they'd seen, and then closed the door with a sigh. She reached up, taking off her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

There was a throbbing behind her eyes that she just couldn't shake today, and though she would never admit it out loud, she felt old. She might have the body of a woman in her prime, but in truth, Purah had been alive for more than one hundred and twenty years. She should be bowed and frail, like her younger sister or Robbie, but because of her inventions, she had been able to reverse the effects of aging, reverting to the form she was in now.

Well, first, she ended up being around six years old. That had been a wild adventure, but eventually she fixed what needed to be fixed and ended up in this adult body. Still full of energy and vigor, but capable of reaching the top shelf without resorting to a step stool.

She could do without the young men constantly trying to talk to her, though. She'd forgotten just how annoying that was in the eighty or so years since she had to deal with it. A sea of idiots, she thought, grinning wickedly.

Purah replaced her glasses on her face and stepped away from the door. She barely made it back to her desk when the door slammed back open, even more forcefully than before.

"Doctor Purah!" Josha cried, voice shrill with excitement.

Purah whirled, face flashing in irritation. "Josha, what—"

"It's the Swordsman! Link! He's returned!"

Purah rushed for the door, very nearly bowling Josha over in her haste. Finally! About time those two showed back up! It didn't occur to her, at the time, that Josha had only mentioned Link in the singular, so when she raced out of the house, goggles slipping down halfway over her eyes, she found herself searching for Zelda's face in vain.

Instead, she only found Link.

"Linky, it's about time that you…" She trailed off, lifting her goggles.

Link looked terrible. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, and she could see dried sweat on his brow. The brand-new tunic that Zelda had made for him before their journey was stained and torn. One sleeve and most of one shoulder of the tunic looked as though it had been burned away entirely, and his arm…

"Damn, Linky, what happened to you?"

At first, she thought his arm was burned and blackened, but upon second glance, she saw that wasn't the case at all. Instead, his arm was… different. Slightly longer than the other and covered in a weird-looking bracer. The skin underneath was dark grey—almost black—with other patches of lighter grey. The grey skin traveled up to his shoulder, where it seemed to merge with his tan skin, forming branches of grey and tan in strange, maze-like patterns.

Link grimaced, looking down at his hand with disdain. "A lot."

Purah snapped her fingers as the realization that she didn't see Zelda finally fell into place. "Okay, great, but more importantly, where's Zelda?"

His expression told her all she needed to know. Purah's heart sank.

"Thankfully, I was able to use the Shei—Purah Pad—to transport here. I don't know how she knew I'd be there or that it would still work after all that time."

Link sat in a chair in Purah's lab, looking defeated—more so than Purah could ever remember. His shoulders slumped, hair messily framing his face, while the strange Zonai arm hung loosely by his side. Bags were under his eyes, and he occasionally winced, his left hand tightening into a fist before relaxing, as if the replacement arm caused him pain.

She couldn't entirely blame him for looking exhausted. His story helped explain some of the strangeness that had happened in his absence, but none of the explanations made her feel any better.

Zelda was missing. The Zonai were strange goat-dragon people with weird powers (which seemed completely at odds with what she thought she knew about them!). The Demon King from ancient lore was both real and returned. And the Master Sword had first broken and then disappeared into thin air.

Oh, and Link had some of those weird Zonai powers now, and he was pretty sure Zelda had spoken to him, because of course she did.

Purah had demanded demonstrations of the powers as he had told her about them, and Link had dutifully telekinetically lifted a book from her floor and somehow permanently stuck an inkwell to her desk. Others, he still seemed to have trouble with. It had taken him several tries before he managed to cause a wadded-up ball of paper to fly back at Purah (it ended up striking her in the face, which she was pretty sure he did on purpose), and he didn't seem to have great control of his ability to pass through objects at all.

When he tried, he ended up getting his foot stuck in the floor for a bit before he was able to extricate himself again with the power. It would have been funny if it were not for the rest of his story.

Actually, she still thought it was funny, regardless.

"Well, snap, that all sounds terrible." Purah tapped her pencil against her lip. "It sounds like you've had just as bad a time as we have down here."

Link's expression darkened. "What's happened here? I saw some of the ruins in the distance, but—"

"Oh! Right. You've been off in the sky." Purah walked over to the table in the center of her room, where she'd compiled many of the reports that she'd been receiving, and Link followed a moment later.

"It all started a few weeks ago, when the sky islands all appeared and the castle got lifted up."

"A few weeks? I've been missing that long?"

Purah looked at him, eyebrow cocked. "Longer than that! You and Zelda disappeared underground more than a month ago!"

Link closed his eyes, grimacing. "Right. But it's been, what, three weeks since we encountered Ganondorf."

"Assuming that's when the world started falling apart, yes. Snap, Linky, keep up."

He shot her a dark look, and Purah grinned, though it faded after a moment. "Anyway, yeah, everything started just over three weeks ago. There was a big earthquake, and then the castle rose up on that column. At the same time, the islands appeared in the sky, and a whole bunch of pieces of them started raining down all over the place."

Link's expression was stricken. "How much damage was done? Were people hurt?"

Purah glanced away from him for a moment. "Some. We're still figuring out how bad it is, but I know that Kakariko Village was hit hard. Hateno seemed to be spared from any falling debris, and we've not been able to get anything out of the other races yet, other than some Zora that swam down the river a couple of days ago. They seem to be doing all right, though they mentioned some issues with their river."

Link's expression only darkened further as Purah spoke—an expression she recognized from the years she'd known him. And she responded in the only way she knew how—she rolled her eyes and scoffed derisively.

"Oh, give it up, Linky. You were unconscious and, apparently, getting a new arm attached! You couldn't have stopped any of that."

"If Zelda and I hadn't woken Ganondorf—"

"I think that was happening, either way! You know things were getting worse—that's the whole reason you went down in the first place."

He still didn't look convinced, and Purah wondered if she should slap him. Impa claimed that to be effective.

Might be kind of fun, too.

She made a motion to swing at him, and Link flinched, pulling back and looking at her with confusion and irritation. "Purah, what—!"

She grinned at him and shrugged. "Impa said it was fun."

"She did not."

"She did not. But she did say it was a good way to get things through to you. I thought it would be fun."

Link snorted, giving her a frown, but she then saw a small smile cracking his lips. He blew out a heavy breath and leaned back in his chair, reaching up to comb his fingers through his hair. He looked exhausted.

"Look, Linky… I think you need to get some sleep."

He grunted, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"Not here, dammit. I still have work to do! Go find somewhere else to take a nap."

Link cracked one eye open, smiling wryly at her. "You're so kind."

When he didn't immediately get up, though, Purah scowled at him. "You're not going to leave yet, are you?"

"Wasn't planning on it." Link looked around her study, considering. "What else is happening?"

Purah sighed and motioned for him to come over to the table in the middle of the room, which he did. Once he was there, she motioned for some of the maps she'd spread out on it.

"We've been dealing with a new resurgence of monsters. Snap, they practically appeared out of thin air and got right to work attacking supply convoys and settlements."

Link looked quietly at the maps before motioning towards a spot not too far from Lookout Landing. "What's this?"

"Monster camp. Hoz took a team out to deal with them a couple of days ago. They haven't gotten back yet."

"If I can get a horse, I can—"

"Linky? Stop being an idiot."

He turned an irritated expression on her. "I've got more experience fighting monsters than anyone else in Hyrule."

Purah tapped her pencil on the map. "And didn't you spend the last six years personally teaching people like Hoz all that you know about fighting monsters?"

Link's cheeks flushed slightly. "That doesn't matter."

Purah threw up her hands. "You're hopeless! All you ever do is think with your sword!"

While he tried to stammer out a coherent response to that, she pointed at the northwestern portion of the map. "Look, a bunch of new monsters isn't the only thing we've got going on either."

That silenced him.

"Did you see that huge storm over the Hebra region when you were up in the sky?"

Link nodded slowly, frowning. "Yeah, I did."

"And did it look weird to you?"

"Yes."

"That's because it is weird." She swirled her fingers around in a circular motion. "It's some kind of freak blizzard cyclone, from what we've been able to tell. It's left the entire region under a huge blanket of snow, and Lake Totori has completely frozen over."

"What about the Rito?"

Rito Village was at the heart of the Hebra region, just south of the mountain range that gave the region its name. The village, which was a bit of a misleading title, was the home of the Rito people, a bird-like people with wings and beaks and more pride than any one race deserved to have.

"That's the thing," Purah said, shaking her head. "We haven't heard much out of there in a while, and the storm is so strong that it took out the bridges leading up to the village."

Link's hand on the table closed into a fist. "Great. Just great," he said through gritted teeth. "So, we don't have any idea why they've gone silent?"

Purah shook her head. "Nope. We've also—well—" She hesitated, wondering if she should add more to the situation. Link already looked ready to pop.

"What? What else is happening?" Link fixed her with a hard stare, and Purah sighed.

"Well, a bunch of ruins fell and blocked off the path through the Gerudo Canyon, so we've not been able to get much out of them, either."

"Purah—"

She held up her hand quickly to silence him. "But, as far as we can tell, they're still okay! Just harder to get out of the desert right now. As long as we can get that cleared before too long, it shouldn't cause too many problems."

He frowned, considering. "Well, what about the Gorons? Can they help?"

Purah snapped her finger. "Now there's an idea. I've been trying to figure out how many explosives we need to use to clear the rubble without bringing half of the canyon down in the process."

Link nodded, some of the tension seeming to leave his shoulders. He still looked exhausted, though, and she felt a pang of sympathy for him. He'd been through a lot.

"Look, Linky… You've got the Purah Pad. Why don't you go back to Hateno and get some rest? You look like you're about to fall over."

He took a long time to answer her, eyes still focused on the map and other reports she'd been collecting. She could see his mind working, trying to piece things together and figure out his next step. And, perhaps, the Demon King's next step, too.

"I don't know what's going to happen next, Purah," he finally said, not looking at her. "I don't know where Zelda is, and this Ganondorf…" He glanced down at his Zonai hand. "He destroyed the Master Sword. It was…" He closed his hand into a fist. "It's gone."

"Well, then, we'll just have to figure out another way to take him out," Purah said, feigning a confidence she didn't entirely feel. The loss of both Zelda and the Master Sword felt like a disaster that they wouldn't be able to easily overcome. She didn't think Link needed to hear that right now, though. "Come on, Linky! After everything you've done, this will be nothing!"

He glanced at her silently before looking away, expression troubled. She saw him flexing his Zonai hand, and she wondered if it was hurting him or if he was just being reminded of its presence. She was dying to make him show her more of his abilities, but she restrained those impulses for the moment.

After a few seconds, she said, "You need to leave."

He looked at her, frowning. "What?"

"Get out of here!" She began to make shooing motions towards him. "I need to do some more research, and you need sleep. Snap, what have I told you about bothering me?"

His lips quirked into a slight smile, and he inclined his head in acquiescence. "All right, all right… Have it your way. I'll leave."

"Damn right you will. Go home and come back tomorrow."

He walked toward the door but stopped when she spoke again.

"And Linky?"

"Yeah?"

"Bring me a loaf of good bread when you come back. The food around here is awful."

Link laughed and shook his head. "You could just learn how to cook for yourself, you know, Purah."

She snorted derisively and pointed at the door. "Out!"

He left, shutting the door quietly behind himself. As soon as he was gone, Purah released a sigh and sat heavily in her chair, closing her eyes. "Oh, Zelda… where are you?"

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven: Homecoming

The day was still warm despite the setting sun when Link appeared on the outskirts of Hateno Village. He had appeared on a grassy hill, not far from the old, inert Sheikah Shrine. Like he always did, his head turned to look at the shrine, as if expecting it to be glowing with calm, blue light once again, as it once did.

He knew it would not be shining any longer—not since they shut down all Sheikah technology—but he didn't expect to find it simply gone.

In its place was a pit in the ground, oblong, slightly larger than the shrine had been, itself. It looked as though a sinkhole had opened right beneath it, plunging the shrine, foundation, and all, into its depths. He could have even accepted that, were it not for the red-black corruption that coated the walls of the hole and some of the ground around it. And beyond the dark substance, the grass looked diseased, dead, and brown, but stained with reddish spots.

"What…?" Link whispered, walking closer to it. As he approached, he felt that ache in his Zonai arm once again, pulsing alongside his heartbeat. He rubbed his arm, wincing, as he stepped up to the edge of apparent corruption. He could see a faint, gaseous miasma rising from the pit, just like he and Zelda had encountered while underground.

His stomach turned at the sour smell, like something rotten and decayed, and then he peered over into the hole. All he could see was blackness. It was a seemingly endless void of darkness with no bottom in sight. There was no sign of the Sheikah Shrine or the strange chambers that had seemingly been underneath it.

Link felt a wave of dizziness and stepped back from the edge.

What in Hylia's name?

Someone gasped sharply behind him, and Link whirled, his hand briefly lifting to grasp the hilt of a sword that wasn't there. He found a young woman standing behind him, sword at her hip, with shoulder-length brown hair.

"Link!" she said, eyes widening. "You're back!"

Nat had been one of the first members of Hateno Village that Link had met following his awakening during the Calamity. He had encountered her and her sister, Meghyn, when they had been accosted by a handful of bokoblins just outside the village, and the three of them had become friends in the years since.

Link dropped his hand back to his side and stepped further away from the dark hole in the ground, towards her. "Nat, what's—"

"Where've you—"

"The Sheikah—"

"—a month—"

They talked over each other for several moments before they both went silent. Nat blushed a little and reached up, sweeping her hair back, before giving Link a grin. "You first."

Link smiled faintly. "There's a lot to tell. But first…" He looked back towards the hole in the ground. "What is this?"

Nat stepped closer to him, grimacing as she looked towards the hole. "That appeared just a few weeks ago—just about the same time as those floating islands overhead." She motioned for the sky, and Link followed her gaze to see several smaller Zonai islands suspended in the sky above Hateno. None were nearly so large as the ones he'd travailed once waking.

"It happened overnight," she continued. "There was some kind of earthquake at night, and when we came over the next morning, we found the Sheikah Shrine missing, and that big hole in the ground."

"How far does it go down?" Link asked, eyes on the pit once more. His stomach hadn't quite recovered yet from his proximity to it.

"No one knows. Most people get woozy when they get too close, and we didn't know if anything was going to come crawling out of it. We've been taking shifts to watch the thing, just in case."

"Good idea…"

Link rubbed his left arm as that phantom pain returned. Though the pain itself seemed to originate in his forearm, he could feel hints of it that seemed to spread throughout his body. It wasn't as sharp as some of his other experiences, but it was distracting.

"Okay, now—what happened to you, Link? Where's Zelda? And—gods—what happened to your arm?"

Hateno Village had changed in the last six years.

It had shrunk in population somewhat, as more Hylians traveled towards Central Hyrule to make new lives for themselves, though it was still the largest of the Hylian towns. The destruction caused by the siege had long since been repaired, and the only signs that this had once been the site of the battle were the stone wall that had been erected around the village and the expanded cemetery at the base of the large hill. And the scars, of course. Many villagers still bore physical and emotional scars from that battle.

Many of the new buildings were built with an architectural style reminiscent of the Hudson Construction Company, while others were made of more typical brick and plaster. The result was an incongruous look that drove Zelda crazy, though she never admitted it to anyone but Link. It didn't help that the variety of colors presented by the newer buildings often clashed terribly with their neighbors.

Despite its shrinking population, it had grown in other ways. There were many more young children in the village now, the end of the Calamity having led to a population boom among not only Hylians but nearly every Hyrulean race, save for the Gorons. And then there were the migrants—descendants of those who had successfully fled Hyrule during the Calamity and subsequently chosen to travel back to their country of old once the crisis was over.

Those travelers had been an incredible boon to Hateno Village, many bringing skills and trade that Hyrule desperately needed if it were to ever grow into a nation again. One never realized just how important good wheelwrights were until travel became much more commonplace.

Link felt the dread settling into the pit of his stomach as he followed Nat out into the village proper. She'd told him how scared some of the villagers were during his absence and the other strange occurrences. Some had returned to the village and reported the way the castle had lifted into the air, and others reported monsters roaming the countryside. Some had even abandoned homes and settlements established following the Calamity to come back and stay with family.

He knew he had to give the people hope. He had to be that beacon, that savior—the Champion of Hyrule—to these people and all others. But gods, he didn't want to be. Not tonight. He dreaded the questions, the demands for answers.

Nat had suggested that he sneak back to his own home first and make an appearance in the morning, but as soon as she'd told him about the people's fears, he knew he had no choice. As he walked into town, he stood tall and even tied his hair back with a leather cord that Nat had provided.

He'd considered finding a way to cover up his left arm entirely, but decided against it. Those were questions he'd have to confront eventually, anyway, and Nat was terrible at keeping secrets. At least he'd already donned a fresh tunic, having been given one while at Lookout Landing—just in case this very situation presented itself.

Something like a genuine cry of joy went out among the handful of villagers who saw him first. Thadd was there, the farmer having traveled from his countryside farm into town. The man grinned broadly, hurrying forward to greet Link. Prima was there with her husband, Worten, her hands on her swollen belly—she'd barely been showing her pregnancy before he and Zelda had departed. The elderly Uma wiped at her eyes, overcome with emotion at the sight of Link's return.

They and a dozen others quickly gathered around Link and Nat, their voices a cacophony, their faces alight with joy and relief. Others dashed off, calling out as they ran past houses, exclaiming that Link had returned. Doors opened, voices answered with questions and alarm. And before Link even had a chance to answer a single question, the dozen had nearly doubled.

"I—" he started, but those around him hadn't stopped speaking over each other. He heard hints of questions, words without context. Every time he tried to focus on one voice, someone else seemed to jostle others for his attention.

He felt his heart quicken.

"Everyone!" cried a man from behind the crowd. "Please, let me through!"

Reede, the village mayor, pushed his way to the front. He was still a young man, perhaps ten years Link's senior, if one didn't count his century while asleep, with brown hair and a well-kept beard. He looked stunned when he saw Link, as if he hadn't quite believed his return.

"Link! You're back—thank Hylia." Reede reached out to shake Link's hand, his lips spreading to form a broad grin. "You and Zelda have been gone so long that some of us began to—"

The mayor stopped short when he saw Link's left arm. A moment later, as they, too, noticed Link's arm, the crowd began murmuring again. Link sighed and flexed his fingers, allowing his arm to fall back to his side.

"Link… what—what happened? Where have you been?"

Link steeled himself. While his heart continued to beat rapidly in his chest, he forced his face to remain calm, trying to project confidence. "I was injured, and I've spent the last few weeks recovering."

Immediately, voices from the crowd started up again.

"What injured you?"

"Is the Calamity coming back?"

"What happened to your arm?"

Reede held up his hands, trying to gain some semblance of control over the crowd again. "Everyone, please!" When the voices quieted again, he looked at Link, frowning. "What did injure you? We've all heard rumors and stories, and then there are these flying—"

"They just appeared!"

"Are they going to fall?"

Link hesitated, looking from Reede to the people around them, unsure of who had asked the questions. "I… I'm still trying to understand everything myself, but no. No, I don't think the islands are going to fall."

"But—"

"And as for what injured me…" He hesitated, wondering just how much he should share with them all. Give them hope, he thought. "It was something that just caught me and Zelda by surprise. That isn't going to happen again."

"But what was it?" said a woman from the crowd. Others voiced the same question, and Reede looked ready to ask the same when another voice called out.

"But where's Zelda?" Link thought it might have been Meghyn, Nat's sister. Immediately, others began to ask the same, her absence having just been noticed.

Link wished he'd never come back to Hateno this night. He tightened his hands into fists to stop them from trembling, and he did his best to ignore the sound of his own heart in his ears. "We—Zelda and I—we got separated in the attack—"

"Oh no! Is she all right?" asked Meghyn from somewhere in the crowd.

"I—yeah. Yes. She survived the fall, and she found a way to get a message to me that she's all right."

It wasn't entirely the truth, but he wasn't about to try to explain to everyone how Zelda had transported herself into the past, and that the only reason Link knew that was because he'd been speaking with a ghost. He hoped it would, at least, be enough to quell their concerns.

It wasn't.

"Fall?"

"She left you a message? Where is she?"

"Is she on one of those floating islands?"

Link's Zonai hand ached from how tightly he clenched it. He didn't want to be here. He needed to be away. It was a mistake to attempt this tonight. He was too exhausted, and his head was too full of worries. How could he be a source of hope for them now?

He tried to assuage the crowd's concerns, nonetheless. He began to sweat as he continued to answer questions, giving somewhat vague answers while promising that he was going to be working to solve Hyrule's problems. It all sounded so hollow to his ears, but he watched as relief seemed to wash over the villagers.

For every weight lifted off one of their shoulders, Link felt as though he had piled another stone upon his back. Another burden to carry. Another flame of hope that he had to somehow keep from going out. All the while, his left arm continued to ache.

It was some time later when Link finally found his way to his home.

"Mister Link? When will Miss Zelda be coming back?" had asked Reede's little daughter, Karin. So many of the town's children were taken with Miss Zelda, their teacher. The question had very nearly caused Link's mask of confidence to crack. After that, he'd excused himself.

Now, however, he wondered if this was really much better.

The house was dark and, despite being empty for only a month or so, looked ominous and unlived in from the outside. The flowerpot hanging from the front window was empty, and a passing storm looked to have dislodged one side of a shutter, leaving it dangling precariously. A pile of firewood sat against the side of the house, and a woodcutter's axe leaned up against it.

He looked up at the empty house, feeling the lump in his throat as he considered walking through the front door and confronting Zelda's absence. Now that he was here, he found that he couldn't quite force himself to do it yet, and instead he turned, walking around the side of the house. There, he found the small stable that he and Bolson had built together right after Calamity Ganon's defeat.

As he stepped closer, he heard a horse whinny from within. The sound brought a small smile to his lips, and as he stepped inside, he saw a brown-haired horse looking out from one of the two stalls. Spirit's large, brown eye caught sight of Link, and the horse immediately tossed his head in anticipation.

"Hey, boy…" Link said, stepping forward and reaching up to pull Spirit's face down to meet his. He pressed his forehead to Spirit's muzzle, inhaling deeply of his horse's scent. Spirit, in turn, blew out a snort and pressed forward, nearly knocking Link over.

Link laughed and pulled back, though he still held the horse's head in his hands. "I know, boy. I missed you, too."

He was glad to see that Reede's wife, Clavia, had kept up with the horses in his absence. The stable looked clean, and Spirit looked well-fed—perhaps a little too well-fed.

In the next stall over, another horse, this one all white, save for its golden-yellow mane, poked her head out, looking at Link curiously. Liberty was always more reserved than Spirit, in an ironic reversal from their masters' personalities. She knickered softly, her eye looking past Link towards the entrance of the stable.

Looking for her rider.

Link's heart squeezed in his chest, and he stepped over to the other horse, gently stroking her muzzle. "She's not here right now, girl, but we'll get her back."

Liberty whinnied softly and pulled her head back. She pawed the dirt in apparent annoyance.

"I know. I want her back, too."

Spirit blew out another snort and pressed against the door to his stall, causing the wood to creak, drawing Link's attention back to the horse. "Not yet, boy. It's already late, and I'm exhausted. I'll take you out tomorrow." He glanced again at Liberty. "I'll take you both out."

Neither horse seemed very happy about his words, but Link gave them both some oats to placate them before setting about to brush them thoroughly. The act of brushing the horses helped Link as well, settling the dread he felt in his heart.

When he stepped out of the stable some thirty minutes later, he did so feeling stronger than he'd felt when he first approached his house. Yet, as he reached for the door handle, the dread returned. He forced it down and stepped into the dark home.

Six years had transformed the small, mostly empty building into a home full of warmth. The table in the center of the large, central room had been lacquered and covered with a tablecloth. The opposite wall from the front door was taken up by a large brick oven, which often emanated the enticing aromas of whatever Link was preparing that day, though it now stood swept and cold. Shelves were lined with dusty plates and bowls, and a few bundles of dried herbs still hung over the other kitchen implements.

His eyes scanned the darkened kitchen, memories blossoming unbidden in his mind. Early in their marriage, before they had commissioned Bolson to build Zelda a proper study in the cellar, their table had often been covered by her notes and scraps of old texts. She would eagerly research while occasionally complaining about how long it took for Link to prepare their meal.

He looked towards the stairs that led up to the loft and their small sleeping area. He could remember her hurrying down those stairs, wrapped tightly in a blanket, to help Link clean up after a particularly heavy snow had caused part of their roof to cave in.

His eyes trailed to the railing that she had once leaned over, wearing not a scrap of clothing, to tell Link to come to bed. When he had tried to imitate that some weeks later, she had laughed at him and told him that she would be up when she was ready and not a moment sooner.

Link's feet carried him up the stairs, revealing their bedroom, if it could even be called as much. The bed sat in one corner, a nightstand and lamp on one side of it. A pair of old work boots rested at the bed's foot. Hung on one of the walls was a large painting—a replica of a very old photograph on the former Sheikah Slate. Link, Zelda, Daruk, Mipha, Revali, and Urbosa stood together. Daruk's large arms encircled them, pressing the other five together, causing Mipha and Revali both to stumble. Daruk's large mouth was pulled into a wide grin, and Urbosa's lips formed a closed-mouth smile, while the other four had looks on their faces ranging from alarm to confusion.

He could remember well when the photograph was taken, and he was grateful that the artist had captured each of their expressions so well. It truly was a masterwork of recreation.

His eyes settled on Zelda, who looked startled as she and Link were pressed together. They barely knew each other when this photograph was taken. The Champions' roles had only just been formalized, and fear and resentment had already driven a wedge between the two of them. What a difference just a few short months of travel would make for them, and then six years of marriage would further make.

The lump returned to Link's throat, and he blinked rapidly, the beginnings of tears stinging his eyes. He found he desperately wished he could not only see Zelda again in that moment, but all of them. Daruk had always been so good at helping Link get his mind off his burdens, while Mipha was the best listener he had ever met. Urbosa had been wise as she was uninhibited. And Revali… well, Revali was and had always been an ass. But even he would be good to talk to in that moment.

"Goddess, I don't know if I can do all of this again," he whispered, feeling every bit of the weight of his predicament settling on his shoulders once more. The fear, the responsibility, the need to fix things—it pressed down on him as much as it drove him forward.

Here, in the heart of his home, he felt he could be truly honest. His one encounter with the Demon King, with Ganondorf, had been catastrophic. The phantom pain in his left arm still burned with agony not forgotten, and the emptiness he felt upon his back was a reminder of the Master Sword's fate.

And despite the hints of her presence, he still had no idea if Zelda had managed to find a way back to the present. The thought that he may never hold her in his arms once more, may never hear her voice or see her smile, sent a frigid blade through his heart that caused the emotions to bubble up from within him.

He sat heavily on the bed, lowering his face to his hands. He wished he had any idea of what he should do next. He feigned confidence for his friends to give them hope, but he found none of that hope within.

"Hylia, what am I supposed to do now?" he asked and didn't know if the goddess was even still around to hear him.

Link awoke, aware of the presence of someone else in his home. He wasn't sure how he knew, but when his eyes opened, he was certain that he was not alone.

He moved by reflex, throwing the blanket off him and rolling out of bed, coming down to his feet in a crouch. A pale shaft of moonlight entering through the window dimly illuminated the loft. Link couldn't see anyone, yet the back of his neck prickled, and his left arm ached with that phantom pain once again.

Trying not to make any noise, he carefully reached down to just beneath his bed, fingers blindly groping until they found the leather-wrapped hilt of a sword. He drew it forth, sliding it out of its scabbard with a soft hiss of metal on leather. It was a simple steel broadsword—one that he had used as a replacement for the Master Sword in the years between the Calamity and his expedition with Zelda.

Armed, Link crept closer to the edge of the loft until he could peer down to the lower floor. There, standing right beside the kitchen table, was Zelda.

She was dressed as she had been in the vision in the Temple of Time, in the strange, unfamiliar dress, her arms and shoulders bare, the tear-shaped marks on her cheeks. She stood, hands at her sides, face turned up to look right at Link as he came into view. He thought he saw the hint of a smile on her lips in the dim light.

"Zelda!" Link cried, shooting to his feet, his sword clattering to the ground.

Zelda turned away from him and began walking. At first, Link thought she was walking towards the stairs to come up, but she walked right past them, towards the open doorway.

"Wait!" He started for the stairs but tripped on the sword, crashing to the ground in a heap. He was back up a moment later, but she hadn't slowed, continuing to cross the house towards the door. "Zelda, wait!"

He bolted down the stairs, struggling to keep his balance, but she had already stepped out of the house and into the night's darkness. He sprinted after her, rushing outside and calling for his wife again.

It took him a moment to see her; however, she was no longer standing on the ground. Instead, she was floating in midair, perhaps ten feet up. She met his gaze as he looked up, reaching a hand toward her, and she continued to rise. She began to shine with a golden light.

"No! Where are you—Zelda!"

She remained silent but kept climbing higher, glowing with increasing brightness, resembling a beacon in the dark. Suddenly, she erupted into radiance, her form dissolving as she transformed into pure light, streaking across the sky like a shooting star.

Link's hand fell slowly, the burning pain fading as Zelda passed from his sight. His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind was bewildered by what he had just seen. Had that truly been her? Was it like before—an echo of her power, as Rauru called it? If so, then why appear to him, but give him nothing? And if it was her, then why leave at all?

"Zelda?" he called to the silent night, hoping that she would respond to him in the same way that she once had. "Zelda, please… Where did you go?"

He was only met with silence.

There was no chance of sleeping again after that. He dressed himself and then took both Spirit and Liberty out for a ride before the sky began to lighten with the first hints of dawn. His ride, which took him out of Hateno Village and into the surrounding countryside, should have been a good way to clear his head.

However, because the night was wrong.

Link rode on Spirit's back, his horse's hooves clopping on the hard dirt, with Liberty trailing some ten feet behind them. Behind them, at the top of a rise, was Hateno Village, dark save for the pinpricks of a handful of candles still burning in windows—perhaps others unable to sleep at this late hour—and a pair of torches on either side of the open gate. The dirt road they walked on was well-traveled—the main thoroughfare that wove between the Ginner and Midla Woods, west of the town.

As he rounded the bend that took him out of sight of Hateno, the night grew quiet, with the sounds he expected to hear largely absent. The wind blew, yet the leaves on the trees on either side of him sounded muffled. He didn't hear any nighttime animals either—no singing insects, no owls hooting, no wolves howling. Even his horses' hooves sounded duller.

It made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. He considered drawing his sword and even began to reach for it before stopping himself. Spirit was well-accustomed to battle, but Liberty tended to get anxious when she sensed danger. He didn't want to spook her unnecessarily.

He left his hand on the hilt of his sword, however, as his eyes searched the darkness. Overhead, the stars continued to shine, but even these seemed affected by the unsettling air of the night. He would have sworn they were dimmer than they had been mere moments before, and the crescent moon, still high in the sky, almost appeared to have the faintest red tinge to its light.

A tree lay across the road, seemingly uprooted from its place beside the road. Feeling anxious, Link dismounted, moving closer to the tree, eyes scanning the darkness. He felt as though eyes followed him, and behind him, he heard one of the horses paw the ground.

He carefully approached, wondering just what had knocked the tree over. It didn't look like a particularly young tree, nor did it look old. And it hadn't been broken, such as by a lightning strike or something striking it with force. Instead, he could see some roots still attached to its base.

Termites? Maybe they weakened it, and the earthquake the townspeople mentioned knocked it over? But why wouldn't they have cleared it already?

It was dark and hard to see, but he didn't know many species of insects in this area that would feast on live trees. Still, perhaps this tree had died recently? He moved closer to the base of the tree, looking for signs of termite mounds, but found something far worse.

The tree's roots appeared shriveled, seemingly rotted from within, while the grass and other plants surrounding the tree looked unhealthy. Their leaves and stalks drooped and were marked with blotches of red on black that he recognized.

It was the same as the grasses that had surrounded the hole in the village, and Link wondered if a sinkhole was about to form right here, beside the road leading out from the village. He wondered where else holes like that were forming or had formed, and what would happen if one formed underneath a home.

Something moved in the dark.

Link's head snapped up, and now he drew his sword, the polished metal gleaming in the faint moonlight. He heard Liberty give a nervous-sounding snort whinny behind him, and he hoped she wouldn't have cause to bolt—he didn't relish the idea of trying to search for her on this night.

He waited, eyes searching. He'd caught sight of the shadow moving out of the corner of his eye, but now everything had gone still. Not even a breeze shivered the leaves. He still felt the eyes on him, and he was all but certain that something watched him from those shadows.

"Who's there?" he called, squinting.

Nothing answered.

Gritting his teeth, Link gripped his sword's hilt in a two-handed grip, stepping around the fallen tree and into the shadowy forest. He stared around, adopting a stance that would allow him to pivot to defend from an attack in any direction quickly.

No attack came, however.

The forest was silent, and the shadows were thick. Nothing moved, and the only sounds Link heard were his horses and the pounding of his own heart. The darkness felt oppressive, and his instincts screamed warnings, even though no visible danger was present.

Several minutes later, he returned to the road, frustrated, and led the horses back towards Hateno Village. He didn't relax or sheath his sword, however, until he finally began climbing the hill towards the town.

The sun was just starting to lighten the eastern horizon, and Link let both horses graze in the open field by the house. A handful of villagers were already up and about, eager to get started on the day's work.

Though he'd promised he would soon return to Purah, he found himself unwilling to leave just yet. Instead, he set about fixing the broken shutter and mucked out the stable, even though Clavia had clearly been doing that regularly.

Those tasks completed, Link lit a spark in his oven and washed himself while the fire got going. He just managed to set out the flour and water needed for the loaf of bread Purah had requested when a knock sounded at his door.

The first inhabitant of Hateno Village to show up on his doorstep brought him a basket full of freshly picked vegetables. The next, which arrived a short time later, brought him a wheel of cheese and several dried fish. Another villager arrived with a newly woven cloak of a deep maroon color. Yet another brought Link a pair of cured leather vambraces, used but in good condition.

The gifts felt endless. Food and provisions, clothing, travel necessities, even gifts of rupees. Others simply showed up to wish him luck, to express gratitude, and to promise him whatever aid they could give. The outpouring of support stunned Link. It felt like half the village showed up by the time he'd saddled Spirit and prepared to depart.

"Now, don't you worry," Reede said, standing next to Link, hand on his shoulder. "Clavia will keep an eye on your house and your other horse."

Link nodded, giving the other man a subdued smile. "Thanks, Reede. And if you have any problems at all, get a message to the Sheikah. They'll probably know how to get in contact with me faster than anyone else."

"We'll be all right, so long as those floating rocks don't start coming down atop us." The mayor's eyes turned up to look at one of the floating islands, hovering fair overhead. "Still, probably best we keep a few guards on the wall, eh?"

"Yeah," Link said. "Probably for the best."

"At least until you get everything sorted and back to normal."

"Right."

Reede patted Link's shoulder and stepped back from him, giving him enough space to safely use the Purah Pad. Once sure he was clear, Link pulled the device from his belt, opening the map and locating the icon labeled Lookout Landing. Without another word, he pressed it, and he, his horse, and their gathered provisions, all disappeared in a burst of blue-white particles.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight: Next Steps

Spirit blew out an irritated breath when he and Link appeared in the middle of the partially enclosed observation tower in Lookout Landing. He couldn't blame the horse—even for him, there was always a moment of disorientation when teleporting away from somewhere outside and into the middle of a building.

The room was a wide circle, with a very high ceiling and an arched doorway large enough to accommodate a cart. The floor was made with the remnants of a former Sheikah shrine's teleportation base—stone with metallic inlays forming a circular maze of curved lines. The fact that Purah had been able to salvage that and incorporate it into her teleportation rune had been the source of endless pride for her, Link knew.

All around the circular base were half a dozen appendages built from salvaged Guardians. Dozens of tentacle-like arms had been repurposed, creating a platform that could be lifted up to the top of the tower, making for an ideal observation post. It was a feat of engineering that Link, frankly, didn't fully trust. He could still remember when Purah had first tested the lift mechanic—with him as the test subject—and two of the arms snapped, causing the platform to lurch dangerously and nearly send him falling to the ground thirty feet below.

Purah assured him that it wouldn't happen again, but Link had refused to ride the lift since unless he had his paraglider at the ready. Just in case.

He and Spirit emerged from the tower, making their way down the short wooden ramp to the ground. Around them, the small outpost known as Lookout Landing buzzed with activity. The outpost had begun as a base of operations for rebuilding operations in Hyrule Field, following the defeat of Calamity Ganon.

It was here that Link and Zelda had defeated the beast, and it was here that Hyrule had gathered to celebrate that victory. And it had been here that the combined leadership of both the Hylians and Sheikah had wanted to begin working to rebuild the kingdom. While other small settlements had popped up on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, many still avoided the central fields, where monsters and Guardians had once roamed freely.

The outpost was built like a wide square, with thick logs, sharpened along their tops, forming the outermost wall. A catwalk circled the wall's interior to allow archers to look out at the surrounding field. There were two gates—the southernmost large enough to accommodate a cart, while the northern exit was smaller. While various buildings lined the walls or were built into the catwalk, the interior of Lookout Landing was dominated by the large, albeit broken, fountain in its center.

That fountain was an ancient piece of Hyrule's history—a ceremonial site once known as the Sacred Ground. Once, it had been surrounded by a large, manmade pond—a place where Hylia's faithful could offer prayers to their goddess or where men and women could be knighted. However, during the battle against Calamity Ganon, the pond had been drained and the fountain destroyed, though its foundation—and what lay beneath—remained.

Unbeknownst to all save the royal family and a select few Hylian soldiers, the Sacred Ground was also a secret hideaway. Under the pond was a large chamber, connected to a hidden passage that led straight back to the bowels of Hyrule Castle. It was a large chamber, spacious enough to house the royal family and a contingent of guards, with room for provisions, close enough to the castle to mount a counteroffensive and far enough to slip away from a siege.

The passage and chamber's existence were a jealously guarded secret that even Link, as captain of Zelda's guard, had never been privy to. Even Zelda's knowledge of the passage had been merely academic; she'd heard of its existence but did not know how to access it or where its entrance was. It was only due to the draining of the pond and damage to the fountain that the chamber had been found.

When they'd first ventured underground, what they had found shocked Link and Zelda. One hundred years prior, at the onset of the Great Calamity, King Rhoam had used this very passage to lead a beleaguered contingent of guards and advisors out of Castle Town, as evidenced by various personal effects and notes left behind to chronicle their flight.

It had been a final puzzle piece in the sequence of events that took place before Link and Zelda reached Castle Town—how the king had escaped the castle and led a contingent of soldiers to the Great Plateau. There, Rhoam had perished, his spirit remaining, alone, to await Link's resurrection.

The hidden chamber had become essential as Lookout Landing was built, serving as a barracks and living space while the walls and a few critical buildings were constructed. It continued to be used by the guards who maintain the outpost's defenses, despite the presence of other above-ground structures.

Many of the outpost's inhabitants took notice of Link, some waving to him in greeting, while others nudged companions and motioned towards him. His eyes, however, were drawn to one particular person—an elderly man slightly shorter than Link in traditional Sheikah garb, bald on top with a shock of messy, white hair on the back and sides. He had a pair of telescoping goggles perched on his forehead.

Robbie was one of the oldest people still alive in Hyrule—particularly if one did not count the extremely long-lived Zora. One of the most prominent Sheikah researchers in the pre-Calamity era, Robbie had specialized in the Guardians and other ancient Sheikah weapons. He and Purah had led the teams in charge of exhuming and reactivating the ancient Guardians and Divine Beasts in preparation for the Calamity's rise.

He, along with Purah and Impa, had planned for Link's eventual awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection and sacrificed much to ensure his success when that day came.

The old Sheikah was speaking to a young Sheikah woman—Josha, Purah's new assistant. Link didn't know much about the teenage girl, other than the fact that Purah and Zelda were both excited about how smart the girl was.

"Ah! Link!" Robbie said, bustling past Josha and hurrying towards him, lips parted in a wide, toothy grin. Before he got too close, however, he stopped, looking Link up and down, eyes lingering on his left arm for a time.

Finally, he said in an all-too-serious tone, "Now, take off your clothes."

Link snorted. "No."

Robbie grinned once more and crossed the last few steps until he was close enough to throw his arms around Link in an embrace. "It's good to see you again. Purah told me all about what happened to you and Zelda."

"Thanks, Robbie," Link muttered. The last thing he wanted to do was recount the events of the last several weeks again.

Thankfully, the old Sheikah either understood that or felt satisfied with Purah's version of events, because he didn't push Link to retell things. Instead, he pulled back, hands on both of Link's arms, met his eyes, and asked, "How are you?"

The question caused Link to hesitate. How was he? That was a question he'd been trying to avoid even thinking about. He didn't know that he had time to worry about how he was doing at this point.

"I'm… all right," he finally said after consideration. "Still recovering. Still figuring everything out."

Robbie nodded sagely. "Of course you are. Aren't we all?" He grinned once again and then glanced to the side, towards Josha. "Oh! Right. Link, you know Josha, do you not?"

"I do." Link gave Josha a nod and a polite smile. "We've met a few times."

"Ah, yes! Of course. Well, she and I have been trying to figure out our own problem set."

"Miasma sickness," Josha said, interjecting. She stepped forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Robbie. "We're trying to find a way to combat it."

"You mean the stuff that seeps up out of the ground some nights?" Link asked, looking between them.

"More like every night nowadays," Josha said. "And even sometimes during the day."

Robbie nodded. "Indeed. It's becoming harder and harder to avoid the stuff, especially for those of us trying to look into the oddities that have cropped up all over Hyrule."

"Like the hole in Hateno Village?" Link asked.

Robbie cocked his head, eyebrows raising. "Oh? Is there one there, too?"

Link grimaced, one of his concerns confirmed by those words. "So there's more than one?"

"Oh, yes," Josha said. Her eyes widened with some excitement. "There are at least a half-dozen that have been accounted for." She looked at Robbie. "We knew about the one in Hateno. Get with the program, Goggles."

Robbie snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

"A half dozen? Have they all appeared underneath Sheikah shrines?" Link asked.

Robbie turned his attention back on Link. "Oh! You noticed that too, did you? Yes, it would seem that several of them have opened under or very near old shrines and towers."

"We think they're drawn to veins of Ancient Energy," Josha said.

Robbie frowned, looking back at her. "And I think it's still too early to make that hypothesis. Correlation does not imply causation."

"Oh, come on, Goggles!"

Robbie gave Link a look that seemed to say, Do you see what I must deal with? Link smiled, reflecting on how often the brightest minds could also be some of the quirkiest. Zelda was certainly not immune to that, either.

"Cause aside, these holes in the ground are certainly strange. While sinkholes are certainly not unheard of, for so many to appear, and for as deep as they go, it seems extremely unlikely that they are natural in occurrence."

"No," Link said, smile fading. "The one in Hateno Village was coated in Malice. Are the others like that?"

Josha nodded quickly, her twin buns bobbing with her movement. "Yep. That's what Goggles and I have been trying to figure out. It's snapping hard to send expeditions down into them if half of them end up sick and the other half end up nearly comatose."

"Exactly," Robbie said. "One of the first things we need to understand is why some people are more affected by the sickness than others."

"Why do some people get sunburnt more easily than others? Why are some people more prone to having allergies in the spring than others?" Josha's voice grew irritable as she spoke, eyes alight with a fierce passion. "There could be any number of reasons for it, and who knows if we'll ever understand it fully."

"Josha—"

"But if we got a proper expedition put together, full of people who we know to be resistant to the worst effects of the miasma, Hylia only knows what we might find down there!"

Robbie sighed, giving Link another exasperated look before looking back at Josha. "I agree with you, Josha, but I've seen what can happen when scientific thought rushes off ahead of caution."

"Yeah, it can result in a lot of pot lids being blown up," Link said, giving Robbie a wry smile.

Robbie responded with a withering look, deep furrows appearing between his eyebrows. "Must you always bring that up?"

"Oh, what's this?" Josha asked, looking between the two of them.

Link grinned at Robbie, patting the other man on his shoulder. "You should ask Robbie about the time he gave King Rhoam and Zelda a demonstration on Guardian weapons sometime."

"The time you blew up a priceless, scientific artifact from antiquity, you mean?" Robbie said, poking Link in the side.

Link shrugged. "I've blown up a lot of priceless, scientific artifacts from antiquity in my time."

"Indeed, you have."

Link was happy that he could joke about such things more easily now. It wasn't long ago that he still occasionally woke up, coated in cold sweat, trying to shake off nightmares of pulsing, blue eyes watching him in the dark.

"Are you two done reminiscing about being old?" Josha asked, looking between them.

Robbie barked a laugh that turned into a dry cough. "One day," he said, when he'd cleared his throat and pounded his chest a few times. "When you're as old as I am, you'll understand the comfort of being able to talk to someone who has lived through some of the same experiences as you."

"Sure, sure… but Mister Swordsman, I think the Doctor has been waiting for you to get back. She said that, if you showed up, to send you to see her click snap."

"You can just call me Link, Josha," he said, smiling.

Josha shrugged noncommittally. "Okay, but you should really go see her. She'll be angry if you don't go right away."

Link snorted. "Being made to wait does Purah some good, if you ask me."

"Oh, you know how she gets," Robbie said, grinning. "You'll never hear the end of her complaints if you don't just go see her."

Josha looked mildly offended, but Link nodded. "Wouldn't want to make her complain, would we?" He winked before turning from them. As he did, he felt his smile slide from his face. Pressure. He felt the pressure again. The need to perform, to show confidence, to be that beacon of hope.

He missed Zelda. She was the only person with whom he felt truly, fully comfortable shedding all masks around. She knew him, inside and out, and he would feel far more ready to face this new threat with her by his side.

Why would she appear to him like she did in the night? Why give him her power? Why tell him to find her? Where was she?

Link made his way towards Purah's residence and research lab—one of the few multi-story structures in Lookout Landing. The main entrance was situated in line with some of the catwalks that lined this portion of the wall, with a wide porch area before it that allowed people to have an unobstructed view of the land around Lookout Landing, as well as a good view of the settlement, itself.

Beneath the porch was an open-air room, and within it, Link could see that a secondary laboratory had been set up, which looked to be full of various artifacts of interest to the Sheikah scientists. He recognized at least some of them as Zonai in design, familiar with the things he and Zelda had seen underground and what he'd encountered in the sky. He even thought he saw one of the caretaker constructs, huddled down as the one Link had met had been, though this one appeared inert and lifeless.

Link turned aside from the lab and, leaving Spirit behind, climbed the stairs up to the landing that Purah's house stood on. The house was built at odds with the other structures in the town, which were a mix of old-style Hateno and the newer style of buildings made by Hudson and his crew. Purah's house, on the other hand, had a tall, steeped, and rounded roof made with tightly woven thatch.

The house had at least three levels, not including the secondary lab on the ground level. The uppermost level opened onto a smaller porch that seemed to contain some old Sheikah technology reminiscent of the control pads that once adorned the Sheikah Towers. Additionally, like a tall hat, wooden scaffolding was incorporated into the roof of Purah's house, supporting her enormous telescope, which she had transported from her lab in Hateno Village.

All in all, despite its more traditional Sheikah appearance, the building was still very much so Purah in its design—a feeling that didn't go away when he opened the front door to reveal the spacious lab, with its scattered papers and pieces of technology littered about. It was an absolute mess, even worse than it had been the day prior, and it took him a moment to find Purah amidst the chaos.

She was there, on the other side of the room, on her hands and knees and digging through a pile of what appeared to be old Zonai scrap underneath one of the room's various desks and tables. "Where the hell is it?" she said, apparently not noticing his entrance.

Link raised an eyebrow, watching her for a moment. Then he swung the door shut, slamming it loudly. Purah cried out in surprise, jumping up and banging her head on the underside of the desk, hitting hard enough to send a pile of stacked papers and other knick-knacks tumbling down to the ground around her.

"Dammit, Josha, what-!" She pulled out from the desk, holding the top of her head, and shot to her feet. When she spun around, her owl-like goggles had slipped down in front of her eyes, slightly askew. Her lips, visible beneath the goggles, were drawn back in a snarl.

When she registered Link's presence, she lifted her goggles, placing them back on the top of her head, and glared at Link. "Do you always have to be so loud? Are you trying to give me a concussion?"

"Sorry, Purah," Link said, feeling a bit guilty. He had wanted to startle her, but maybe doing so when she was under the desk wasn't the best choice.

Purah rubbed the back of her head, continuing to glare at Link for another few seconds before sighing and shaking her head, straightening out her long, open-fronted coat. "Whatever. It's about snapping time you got back here. I figured you'd be back hours ago!"

"It's not even noon!"

"And? You were supposed to bring me some bread!"

Link rolled his eyes and reached down into the bag he'd brought with him, removing a wrapped bundle, which still radiated the oven's heat from within.

"Ah! Give it." Purah snatched the loaf of bread from his hands, walking over to the table in the center of the room. She shoved some papers aside to clear a space and then unwrapped the loaf. After inhaling deeply, she tore a piece free by hand and took a large bite. "I'm so hungry," she said, or at least, that's what Link thought she said. It was hard to make out her words with her mouth full.

"You could have eaten before now…"

Purah swallowed, smacking her lips. "No time to eat." She glanced back down at the loaf of bread and then froze, eyes on the table. "Aha! There it is." She snatched something that seemed to glow faintly green off the table. It looked to be some sort of cylinder, roughly the size of her closed fist.

"What's that?" Link asked, brows furrowing.

"No idea," Purah said. "Well, I have an idea, but I need to do a test to be sure. Do you still have that Zonai sword you got in the sky?" He removed the sword hilt with the blade he'd fused to its end from his belt, but when he did so, Purah shook her head quickly. "Not that one! The one you didn't stick a knife to the end of."

Link's frown deepened, but he produced the inert hilt a moment later. "It doesn't work. Rauru said that it was powered by the construct."

"Uh-huh." Purah took the hilt from him, inspecting it and then looking at the glowing cylinder in her hand. "Hmm… I had thought…" She turned the blade over again, and her fingers must have bumped the lever to activate it, because suddenly, a shining energy blade extended out from one end, stopping barely an inch from her own face.

Purah cried out in surprise for a second time that day, dropping the sword, which deactivated as soon as it left her hand. It clattered to the ground and rolled under the table. "Click snap, that was too close!"

"Wait, what did you do?" Link asked, quickly crouching and reaching under the table to snatch the hilt. When he stood back up, he tried to activate the sword as she had done, but like when he tried before, nothing happened. He looked up at Purah, confused.

Purah, however, was grinning and waggling the glowing cylinder at him. "I knew it! I think this must be some kind of Zonai power cell! It's different than the kinds we made to power our tech, but the same concept."

"That thing can power the sword?" Link looked from the sword to the cylinder in her hand. "But why isn't it working now? And why did it work in the first place? You didn't attach it."

Purah snapped her fingers. "Now you're asking the right questions! Sheikah tech was always powered by direct connection to ancient energy from the ground or by power cells filled with the energy, but even then, the power cells were always physically connected."

She tapped her lips, turning the power cell over in her hand, examining the green light emanating from within. "This doesn't look like ancient energy. Different color. But…" She looked at Link. "Here, catch!" And then she tossed the power cell in an underhanded throw to Link.

"Hey!" Link said as he reached out somewhat clumsily with his free right hand. He fumbled with the cylinder but managed to get his fingers around it. As soon as he did so, the sword hilt in his left hand sprang to life, its thin, blue blade extending about a foot and a half from the edge of the hilt.

The energy blade was tapered nearest the hilt and then widened in a gentle curve before narrowing to a point at its end. Its edges glowed brilliant blue, while the interior of the blade could be seen through, save for a few glowing runic shapes within. It hummed softly with life, similar to that of the Sheikah energy blades, though more quietly and at a different pitch.

"Well!" Purah said, grinning. "I guess there's one hypothesis proven right."

Link smiled, waving the sword through the air, the shining blade leaving behind a brief afterimage in his vision. He met Purah's eyes. "You're a genius, Purah. How did you know it would work?"

The Sheikah woman shrugged. "I didn't. It was mostly just a hunch that occurred to me after you mentioned not being able to power those swords."

"And where did you find this?" Link deactivated the sword and inspected the Zonai power cell in his other hand.

"It was just among the junk that's been falling out of the sky ever since those islands appeared. Did you see the stuff we have below?"

"Yeah. I recognized some of it from the ruins underground and in the sky."

"Exactly." Purah's eyes shone with excitement now, as they always did when discussing advanced technology. She and Zelda were a lot alike in that way. "This is our chance to forge a new path, like Zelda and I have been working on. If I can figure out how the Zonai made their tech work, then maybe I can apply what I know from ancient Sheikah tech and make some real advancements, instead of scraping the barrel like we've been doing for the last couple of years."

"Don't sell yourself short," Link said, reactivating the sword again, inspecting the shining runes in the center of the blade. "You managed to put together the Purah Pad and made the teleportation rune work again."

Purah waved her hand dismissively. "That was a fluke. Teleporting is weirdly different than the other runes and not as tied to other Sheikah tech as the others are."

"If you say so." Link put the Zonai sword away, pleased to have the new weapon. While it was shorter than the typical sword, and Link would always prefer proper steel in hand, energy weapons like it could be incredibly effective against certain types of armor. He liked having as many tools as possible when facing the unknown. He also pocketed the energy cell, figuring that if Purah expected it back, she would have already said something.

As Purah set about taking another bite of the bread, Link decided to broach another subject entirely. "I saw Zelda last night."

Purah coughed, nearly choking on her bread, and gave him a sharp look. She said something unintelligible and then swallowed the bread in her mouth before speaking again. "What?"

"She came to me last night. This morning, I guess. She was in our house."

"And…? What did she do? Where is she?" Purah waved her hand, urging him to continue.

"I…" Link sighed. "I don't know. She didn't say anything. She just appeared, looking at me, and then went outside and flew off."

"Flew off?"

He nodded. "I chased her outside, but then she just… floated up and disappeared. I saw her do similar things before, with her powers."

"And she didn't say anything to you? Nothing at all?"

"No."

"What, is she mad at you? Is she giving you the silent treatment? Were you in bed with another woman or something?"

"What? No! Purah."

Purah shrugged. "Just making sure. I don't think she would respond quietly in that event, anyway." She frowned, considering. "That's strange, though."

"I just don't get it. She told me to find her, Purah. She told me. And then she just appears in our house?" Link reached up, running his hand through his hair, which hung loosely around his face. He'd forgotten to tie his hair back this morning before leaving.

"Huh?" Purah's head snapped back up to look at him. "Oh. Right! That is weird. You'd think she'd at least give you the courtesy of telling you that you need to take a bath or something if she can't stand being around you right now."

Link snorted. "Thanks."

"And you're sure it wasn't a dream?"

"Yes. I was awake—I never fell back asleep afterwards."

"And she wasn't…" Purah trailed off, meeting his eyes, her expression betraying some of her worry.

"I—" Link hesitated but shook his head. "I don't think so. I've met plenty of spirits, and she didn't show any of the same signs that they did. She looked physically present."

"Then that's good! Now you've got your proof, right? She's running around Hyrule, probably working on some secret plan to defeat this Ganondorf guy."

"We don't know that."

Purah sighed. "No. We don't. But what else could she be doing?"

Link didn't respond, averting his eyes. Purah was probably right, but that only raised more questions. Such as why wouldn't she tell him?

"Look, Linky, I know there's still a lot of stuff that we don't know. But maybe that's why we should just focus on what we do know and what we can do right now."

It took him a moment, but he nodded in agreement. "I agree. Something's up with her. It was her, but… I don't know. I need to find her. I still can't shake that she needs my help."

"What?" Purah said, taken aback. "No! I mean the Rito. We need to figure out what's up with that storm!"

Link blinked, looking at her. "I can't fix the weather."

She tilted her head, fixing him with an annoyed scowl. "Really? Do you really think the giant blizzard in the middle of summer—a blizzard that has taken the form of an enormous column of snow and clouds hovering over Hebra and Hebra alone—is just some freak weather phenomenon?"

Link didn't respond, mouth shut, frown creasing his forehead.

"For all we know, somehow Ganondorf dug old Vah Medoh out of wherever the Rito crashed it and managed to get it working again. I don't know what else could be causing that storm, unless he can just do that."

Pressure. Expectation. How could something so nebulous be so heavy?

"I know." Link shook his head, glancing down at the large map of Hyrule on her table. "But Zelda—she told me to find her. I know I heard her voice up there."

"Linky—" Purah paused and then sighed. Something changed in her at that moment, and when she met his eyes, he saw exhaustion. Physically, she was young—as young in body as Link himself. But in that moment, her eyes looked old. She looked old and as tired as he felt.

"Link," she said, her voice lacking the sarcastic bite it often held. "I'm worried about her, too. Zelda's—she's my best friend. And I still have people trying to find out where she's gone off to, but…"

"I know."

Purah looked down, where her hands fidgeted with the little flute-like instrument she often carried. Link still had never heard her play it before.

"I can't do this," she finally said. "I'm not… a leader. I'm not like Impa or Zelda. I'm good at research. Inventions." She took a breath before continuing. "But Zelda's not here. Paya has her hands full in Kakariko, and Hylia only knows where Impa is. I haven't heard from her in weeks."

He wasn't used to seeing this side of Purah. There was a rawness to her voice, and he knew that she felt much of that same weight that he felt, too. And, surprisingly, it helped somehow.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're doing what you need to do."

She released a sound that was half-snort and half-sigh. "A lot of people are panicking. Most people around here were there during the battle with Calamity Ganon—they remember how close we were, and how much damage that monster did in a short amount of time."

Link closed his eyes, remembering that day all too well. An army from all over Hyrule, battling a horde of monsters, both organic and machine. And, above it all, the beast Ganon, whose power caused the ground to tremble and Death Mountain to erupt.

He had defeated that monster, but he had done so with both Zelda's help and the Master Sword.

Purah looked up at him and, when Link opened his eyes again, she scoffed and brushed his hand off her shoulder. When she spoke, it was with her normal, clipped tone. "So we need to try to do something to calm them down while we figure out the other stuff, okay? And that means you need to get over to Rito Village and see if you can figure out what's causing the disturbance over there."

Link looked at her, silent, for several seconds. Finally, however, he nodded. "Okay. You're right—I'll head there first. But Purah? If you hear anything about Zelda—anything at all—I need you to tell me."

"Right. Of course." She waved her flute and then stuck it back into a pocket of her coat before tearing off another piece of bread from the table. "You'll have to travel there on foot. The travel medallion we stuck there stopped working when the storm hit. Not sure if something's interfering with it, or it's just buried under too much snow."

Link pursed his lips but nodded. "Right. Well, if I'm going to be traveling to Hebra, I guess I should go back home and grab warmer gear." He reached over and tore off a piece of bread for himself. "Gods, I hate winter in Hebra."

Purah grabbed the loaf of bread, pulling it further away from Link. "Well, then I guess you'd better get there and bring the summer back, shouldn't you?"

He smiled. "I guess so."

Purah felt bad for lying to Link.

She hadn't intended on doing so. If he'd just arrived a couple of hours earlier, it wouldn't have even been an option! But he'd taken his time getting there, and the messenger from Kakariko Village had arrived just after dawn, carrying with him a letter from Paya.

Much of the letter detailed how Paya was handling the situation in the village. It sounded like the damage wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, as most of the ruins had fallen on the surrounding hills and mountains, rather than the village proper.

She also talked about the strange ring-shaped ruins that occupied the sky over Kakariko, which their Zonai research team had only just started trying to research when, well…

Zelda had appeared.

Aunt Purah, Zelda is alive! She visited Kakariko Village and spoke to me briefly before leaving. Link wasn't with her, which worries me, but I'm certain she would have said something about him if anything had happened to him, right?

To be honest, she did seem odd and not entirely like herself. She was cold, and her eyes seemed hollow. When she spoke, it seemed without any emotion whatsoever, and she refused to answer any of my questions. Instead, all she told me was that we needed to avoid entering the ring ruins. I asked her why, but she just reiterated that we couldn't go in them and that she would explain later.

And then she left! Just like that. She didn't say anything about the village or even speak to any of the other villagers. I am certain that she is under a great deal of stress, considering all that has happened, but she really did seem unlike herself. Has she spoken to you? And have you heard anything about Link? I'm worried about him.

"So why would Zelda speak to Paya and not Link?" she wondered aloud while chewing another piece of bread. "And why shouldn't they check out those ruins?"

She knew Link would be angry at her for not mentioning the letter to him, but she figured he would also be upset if he found out that Zelda had spoken to someone else, but not him. It had been a calculated risk, omitting this, but she really did need him to try to focus on what was going on in Rito Village.

It was a task that would be good for him. Give him something to work on while she figured out some of the other strange things going on around Hyrule, such as the rumor she heard of a pirate attack on Lurelin Village to the south, and the sandstorm that had kicked up in the desert.

Could Ganondorf have managed to reactivate the Divine Beasts somehow? It should have been impossible—all four Divine Beasts had been hidden away and permanently decommissioned. But if he'd somehow reactivated even a couple of them… Well, it could be disastrous.

Despite the danger, she found herself hoping that these strange disturbances in the different regions of Hyrule were tied to the Divine Beasts. They knew how to deal with those, and there was no one in Hyrule more qualified than Link to do so. She didn't want to consider the alternative—that Ganondorf was just powerful enough in some ancient form of magic to do all of this on his own.

She scanned the letter again, grimacing, and then shoved another bite of bread into her mouth before standing to her feet again. It was time to get back to work.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine: Monsters, New and Old

Link set out from Lookout Landing barely two hours after his meeting with Purah. He'd made a stop back in Hateno briefly to pick up his winter gear but had otherwise already packed anything he would need for a journey. He had his broadsword and shield bearing the Hyrulean crest, his bow and quiver of arrows, and paraglider, along with provisions for potentially spending weeks on the road.

It had been quite some time since Link had gone for a journey with Spirit, and despite the dire circumstances, he experienced a thrill of excitement as he and his horse walked out of Lookout Landing's gate alone. The road they traversed was familiar, having walked it many times before, and yet he could not deny the sense of discovery and adventure he felt as he gazed out at the fields around him.

He loved spending time in the wild. He always had. As a boy, he spent time exploring hidden glades, climbing rock formations, and running through open fields. Seeing new places, sleeping under the open sky, walking or riding until his muscles ached for rest… It was a part of him. He cherished his life and home with Zelda, but he always experienced a bit of relief when he had a chance to get out into nature.

Hyrule Field was the heart of the land, full of lush forests, babbling streams, and fertile land perfect for raising crops and livestock—a basin surrounded by mountains and plateaus. Once, a hundred years ago, it was dotted with numerous towns and villages, along with military outposts and way stops. Now, nature had largely reclaimed the land, which stretched for miles in all directions. Like the kingdom itself, Hylians still didn't seem to know what to do with it yet.

Small settlements had cropped up on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, particularly to the east, along the banks of the Hylia River, and Link knew of at least two families that had set out from Hateno Village earlier during the last vestiges of winter to settle the land to the south, near Lake Kolomo.

For the most part, however, it seemed like Hylians were still skittish regarding the expanse of land between Lake Hylia to the south and the ruins of the old castle to the north. For one hundred years, it had been a land dominated by Calamity Ganon, braved only by the most daring treasure hunters.

However, for the last six years, Link and others had worked tirelessly to drive the scattered remnants of the Calamity away. His monster control crew had members from all over Hyrule—Hylians and Sheikah, Gerudo, Zora, Gorons, and even Rito. Their numbers were small, but Link had personally trained each of them. As a result, though travelers may still occasionally encounter the odd bokoblin camp or lizalfo den, rarely would the monsters be a cause for concern, so long as the travelers came prepared.

He trusted that Hoz's team could address most monster bands that one might find in Hyrule Field. Yet, Link knew he would be making at least one detour as he continued west towards the Hebra Mountains and the enormous snowstorm that hovered over them.

As Lookout Landing grew small in the distance behind him, he pulled out his Purah Pad, navigating to the camera's gallery. There, he found the image he'd covertly taken of Purah's map, with the location of the monster encampment being investigated by Hoz's monster control crew. He eyed the spot, trying to determine how far away it was and how much time it would add to his trip.

The location looked to be on a rise just south of Mount Gustaf, which Link could see in the far distance. He was familiar with the area, having traveled along the road that cut between Mount Gustaf and the southern hill in the past.

Half of the trip to the monster camp would be on the dirt road, which would allow him and Spirit to make good time, while the latter half would require him to cut through the field. He thought the land would be mostly flat, so it wouldn't slow them down much.

It would take him half a day's journey out of the way, and then another half-day to get back on track. A full day would be added to his journey west, which did give him pause. Purah was right about the need to find a way to help the Rito. But… well, he knew he couldn't, in good conscience, not at least try to scout out the monster camp. With any luck, he'd arrive and find the monster control crew had already finished clearing out the camp.

Spirit's hooves clopped on the dirt as they made their way along the road, and Link found himself more at ease than he'd been in days. It felt good to be traveling, with the sun high overhead and the breeze warm and pleasant. The weeks he and Zelda had spent underground hadn't seemed as terrible at the time, but looking back, Link could acknowledge how on edge he'd felt after going so long without seeing the sun. He had never been that eager to venture into deep caves.

For the moment, Link let himself feel like everything was back to normal. A short journey out to see the Rito, just as he and Zelda had done many times, both in the distant past and since the end of the Calamity.

He could almost pretend, as long as he didn't look up to see the floating islands overhead or look to the western sky to see the massive column of cloud and snow over his destination.

Eventually, he began to see the other signs of the events of the last several weeks, which he now knew some people had begun to refer to as the Upheaval. Enormous stones and chunks of landmasses, some still bearing vegetation upon them, littered the land. Pieces of the sky islands that hadn't been able to remain floating above and so had fallen to the ground. He saw a small thicket of trees that had been crushed under one such boulder, their thick trunks snapped like so many twigs.

The damage didn't seem to be that widespread, thankfully, yet as Link passed under the shadow of one of the floating islands, he shivered. What held them in the sky? And why did some fall? Had any fallen on people? He knew Purah said that Kakariko Village had suffered damage from the initial Upheaval—should he have paid the Sheikah a visit before beginning this journey? Could he have helped them somehow?

Those thoughts plagued him throughout the early afternoon. During the Calamity, his journey had seemed… perhaps not simple, but there had been a well-defined goal from the beginning.

Free the Divine Beasts. Find the Master Sword. Defeat Calamity Ganon.

There had been plenty of twists and turns, but that story could be summed up with those three sentences. Now, however, he headed towards a destination to attempt to help against something he had no knowledge of. He didn't know if he could solve the problem of the floating islands or the way the castle had been lifted off the ground on that column. He didn't know where Zelda was, or the Master Sword, nor did he know where Ganondorf had hidden himself, or even if he could defeat him.

He felt lost. He had a goal, true, but even that felt nebulous and unattainable, and he didn't even know if it would help whatsoever in his efforts to stop Ganondorf. Was he allowing himself to be distracted by the need to help the monster control crew or the Rito?

He hated not knowing.

"Zelda, if you can hear me somehow, it would be really good to hear from you," he said to the air. His only response was a soft breeze and the sound of cicadas from a nearby tree. Link sighed and looked up, feeling none of the peace he'd been feeling when first setting out.

Overhead, he could see several floating islands of varying sizes, including the massive one that he'd traversed. The sky was dotted with fluffy, white clouds, and some of the islands appeared to be at the same height as the clouds, as they were shrouded from view as clouds passed over them.

He saw a speck in the sky and squinted, frowning, before removing his Purah Pad and activating the telescope rune. It didn't help much, but when he found the speck on its screen, he could just make out that it was one of the dragons—long and lithe, weaving its way through the sky. It was the unfamiliar one, with its golden mane and white scales.

Link supposed that was yet another thing he could add to the list of things he didn't understand. Where had that new dragon come from? Was it related to Ganondorf and the Upheaval? Had it been hidden away, just as the flying islands seemed to have been?

He put the Purah Pad away, pursing his lips and looking out at the empty road before him. "Feeling like picking up the pace some, Spirit?" he asked, patting his horse's neck. The horse responded by settling into an energetic canter.

The sun was low in the west when Link finally caught sight of the bedraggled monster control crew and their hastily erected camp. They had set up in the ruins of an old soldiers' outpost that Link thought he may have visited before the Calamity, with canvas tents erected in the shadows of old, brick walls, partially overgrown with vegetation.

Even from afar, he could tell that the crew had not fared well in a recent battle. While there were several Hylians up and about, making preparations for the night, he could see all-too-familiar battle-weary exhaustion in their postures. At least two were limping, leaning on spears for support, and several bore bandages. There were also several individuals lying on pallets near the fire at the center of the camp, seemingly asleep or unconscious.

Several of the crew noticed Link's approach while he was still too far to identify, and he saw a brief flurry of activity as several of the men and women readied themselves for the need to defend the camp. While banditry wasn't that common in the region, it wasn't unheard of, and Link felt a stab of pride as he watched the monster control crew array itself in a way that would allow them to protect the wounded near the center.

The crew consisted of only about fifteen, from what Link could see, and looked entirely made up of Hylians and Sheikah. Link had helped organize multiple crews such as this, often with representation across the spectrum of the Hyrulean races. He couldn't see any sign of Rito or Gorons at this camp, though one of the figures lying prone near the fire looked like she could be Gerudo. It was hard to tell from afar.

As he approached, a figure stepped out from the middle of the formation, and Link breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the man.

Hoz had changed some over the last six years. When Link had first met the man in New Kasuto during his travels to defeat the Calamity, he'd been an earnest man and staunch defender of the small town, but he had also been entirely untrained. It had taken a single glance for Link to know that Hoz had barely known the blade from the butt of his halberd. Since then, however, Hoz had become a leader among the fledgling Hylian militia, taking Link's training to heart and subsequently training others.

Always keen-eyed, Hoz appeared to be the first to recognize Link as he drew close. Link heard the man bark some orders and watched as the postures of the nervous crew all relaxed and even excited.

After all, Link had just arrived, and his presence always brought with it hope.

Link took a deep breath and sat up straighter in Spirit's saddle as the horse cantered up to the soldiers. He left his Zonai arm exposed—there was no use hiding it, and he thought that showing he wasn't immune to injuries might be good for some of these men, many of whom clearly bore injuries of their own.

"Link!" Hoz said, hurrying forward. The man bore a bright smile underneath his thin mustache. "It's a relief to see you. You and Zelda have been gone for so long, many of us had begun to fear the worst."

"It's good to see you, too, Hoz," Link said, dismounting and allowing one of the other members of the crew to take Spirit by the bridle. He clasped the man's right hand with that of his own, but didn't miss the way Hoz's eyes lingered on his left arm. "It looks like you've been through a lot. What's happened?"

If Hoz wanted to ask about Link's new arm, he didn't act on that impulse, and rather met Link's eyes, his expression grim. "A great deal. Have you talked to Purah?" When Link nodded, he continued. "Then she probably told you that bands of monsters have been popping up all over the place, better equipped and in larger numbers than before."

They began into the center of the small encampment, several of the other monster crew expressing excitement at Link's presence. He heard more than one exclamation about Link's new arm, but he kept his attention on Hoz as the man explained the situation.

"Do we know where the monsters are coming from?" Link asked.

Hoz shook his head. "Not really. There have been too many to account for groups hiding out in caves, though the recent earthquakes seem to have created new cave openings." The man looked at Link, face grim, and his voice lowered. "Honestly, it's more like they've been appearing out of thin air with how many we've seen."

As they reached the middle of the camp, Link saw that there was, indeed, a Gerudo woman lying on a pallet near the center of the camp, along with a handful of Hylians. Each of them bore more serious injuries than those he'd seen moving around the camp. The Gerudo looked to have suffered a head injury, from the bloodstained bandage around her head, and others had what looked like broken limbs or deep wounds.

Link felt his spirit wilt at the sight. "What happened, Hoz? Purah told me you were investigating a large monster camp near here."

Hoz nodded grimly. "It's one of the more militant groups that we've encountered. Most that we've seen have been trying to avoid fights, hiding in caves or running away when confronted, but not this one."

Hoz reached up to remove his metal helmet and placed it on a stone chunk that seemed to be embedded in the ground. It took Link a moment to realize it was a piece of stone from one of the sky islands. As Link glimpsed Hoz's face more clearly, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes and a fresh, barely healed scar running along his cheek.

"We're pretty sure this particular band of monsters is responsible for torching two farms nearby and massacring a whole herd of sheep," Hoz said, looking up at Link. "We've clashed with it twice now, but we've been driven back both times. And worse, I think it's gotten reinforced from some of the other smaller groups of monsters in the area."

Link didn't ask about casualties. He could tell all he needed to from Hoz's expression. "Purah's map showed that it had a camp a couple of miles from here. Is that still true?"

Hoz nodded. "That's right. Some folks had been trying to build a new home up that way, but the monsters drove them out and used the lumber and other materials to make some basic fortifications. Mostly bokoblins with a moblin or two, and…" Hoz looked up at Link, frowning. "They've got something I haven't seen before. It looks like a bokoblin, but… bigger. Bigger than the moblins, even."

"Hinox?" Link asked.

"No, no, not that large. It really just looks like a massive bokoblin, and the others clearly look up to it. I think it's the camp's leader."

Link didn't know what to make of that description, but he knew that the typical hierarchy of monster camps would ensure the biggest and strongest were always at the top. That was often a good way to defeat monsters—it was easy to make them panic once they saw the strongest among them fall.

"Why didn't you try to find reinforcements?" Link asked.

"Well, the monsters have hostages."

The words sent a bolt of ice down Link's spine. "What? Since when do monsters take hostages?"

Hoz shook his head. "I don't know, Link. I've never seen it before, either, but from what we've seen, they've got at least three in a cage. Animal pen, from the look of it. Probably belonged to the family that had been building there."

"Is it the family?"

"No, they ran away when the monsters attacked. Made their way south and met up with a caravan of merchants about a week ago. I'm pretty sure these are just some unlucky folks that wandered too close or maybe got picked up on one of their raids."

Hostages. Link dreaded to imagine the reasons why monsters might take hostages, and suddenly his reason for being here was that much more critical.

"I need to see the camp. How far is it?"

By the time Link, Hoz, and the eight others from the monster control crew that were still in fighting shape came within view of the monster camp, night had fallen, which served them well. They left their few horses behind and crept closer, sticking to the shadows the best they could.

The camp was as Hoz had described it. The hill it sat upon was much steeper to the west, almost ensuring that any attacking force would have to approach from the east, and the monsters had arrayed their defenses as such. Link saw piles of stones and the wooden wreckage from at least two carts, along with boards and posts that likely would have gone towards building a fence. There was an unpainted barn that looked to have been built recently, and a house that had suffered a partial roof collapse.

All of this was illuminated by a massive bonfire in the center of the camp, around which at least a dozen bokoblins and two moblins were gathered. They'd erected a spit over the fire and hung a large buck over it, its fur and skin having mostly been burned away. Link saw no sign of the larger bokoblin, though he did see the animal pen near the barn and counted three huddled forms within.

He could hear the creatures conversing in their guttural tongue, sounding more like barks and growls to his ears than actual words. He thought a couple of the loudest might have been arguing from the way they were gesturing, while the others around the fire were watching and seemed to be egging them on.

The argument culminated in something of a wrestling match on the ground, with the two bokoblins rolling about and into the legs of a moblin. A moment later, both bokoblins were flung bodily out of the ring of firelight, yelling in surprise.

Link watched it all with a critical eye, looking for weak points and things his meager force could exploit. He didn't doubt they could win this fight, but he wanted to know how to be able to do so without losing any lives.

He considered starting a fire but then discarded the idea. That would make for a fantastic diversion, but he would prefer to avoid destroying the house and barn if it could be avoided, just in case the original owners would want to return to their home.

But could he use his powers in some way? He looked down at his Zonai arm, flexing it silently for a moment. An idea began to develop in his mind.

Link pulled back with his small force of Hylians. Once they were far enough from the camp that Link felt comfortable talking with them, he looked around at them and said, "I want to try to get those prisoners out of there. Tonight."

Hoz frowned, looking around at the others, before back at Link. "These ones are surprisingly tough, Link. Tougher than your average band of monsters."

"Do you think they're too much?" Link asked.

Hoz hesitated, and Link distinctly saw his eyes dart towards his Zonai arm. But then the man shook his head. "Not with you with us."

Link smiled tightly. "Well, let's hope you're right. Now, here's what I was thinking…"

Link took a deep breath, trying to clear his head to focus on his task. He had snuck around to the opposite end of the camp, where the bonfire's light had struggled to reach. Here, a wall had been erected, ensuring this side of the camp, where the hill wasn't quite steep enough to be a barrier unto itself, would be difficult to attack from.

The level of forethought that had gone into the camp, from its favorable position to its single, controlled entrance, surprised Link. Most bokoblins and moblins were rarely sophisticated enough in their thinking to put together a proper plan for defense. And then there was the missing leader—the one that Hoz had described as a giant bokoblin. He disliked not knowing more about that one.

But he wouldn't leave those people in the cages any longer than they'd been left already. Even if the leader was of a stronger variety, Link was confident that his crew could handle this encampment. Especially if his plan worked out the way he wanted it.

Though for that to happen, he had to hope he could make his powers work.

He placed his hands on the perimeter wall of logs, feeling the rough bark beneath them. These were basically just trees that had been cut down and stacked on each other—he could even still see some places where branches had been broken off unevenly, as well as gaps due to their irregular shapes. None large enough for a person to squeeze through, unfortunately.

He exhaled, closing his eyes, and willed himself to pass through the wall. And the wall pushed back, as solid as it should have been. That was fine—he'd yet to accomplish this ability of his on his first try, anyway. He hadn't expected to this time, either.

So he tried again. Link tried to visualize himself as being a part of the wall, as moving through the wall. He thought he could feel something there—a sensation that began in his palm and spread through his left arm. But still, he found the logs to be resistant to his abilities.

Come on… he thought, growing irritated. Now wasn't the time for him to not be able to use his powers. The others were counting on him to get in there and grab the attention of the monsters so they could then rush in from behind. But every second he took increased the risk that either he or his crew would be spotted.

The long nails on his Zonai hand scraped the wood as he tried once again, doing his best to pretend that the log wasn't solid. He knew what the power felt like, he knew—

Two things happened at once.

The first was that his arm, finally, passed through the log and out the other side. Unfortunately, it was only this log that he seemed able to pass through—or perhaps it was only his arm—because as he tried to walk forward, the rest of his body met with solid wood.

The other thing that happened was that a horn blast pierced the night air. The monsters had seen something. Had they seen his arm? But no, he could hear the alarms going up in the camp—and the sounds of his crew yelling.

They'd been spotted.

Link cursed, pushing against the wall harder. His arm continued to pierce the log, and he could feel open air on the other side, but his chest, face, and knees pressed helplessly against the other logs.

He heard snarls and guttural yells from the monsters within, and then the clang of metal on metal. The fighting had already begun!

"Come on!"

He curled his left arm, trying to grab the log and pull on it to give himself better leverage, but he was trying to pass through trees. Despite what he'd already done, it felt futile and impossible. Could he, instead, climb the wall? It would take more time, but he knew he could manage it.

He was about to pull his arm out of the wall when something occurred to him. His arm had passed through one of the logs as if it were water, but now it rested atop the log beneath that one. It had become incorporeal, true, but only for the single log. Did that mean something?

Was he looking at this the wrong way? The wall had been built from multiple fallen trees. Multiple individual fallen trees. He wasn't trying to pass through a wall, but a forest—of sorts.

Suddenly, his Zonai arm slipped, passing right through the log beneath it, as it too gave way to Link's power. As he stumbled forward, he closed his eyes instinctively, prepared to slam his face into the solid wall… but he didn't.

Instead, he fell forward, landing on the ground, breaking his fall with his outstretched hands. Blinking, he looked up to see the inside of the encampment, the bonfire in the center.

On the other side, he saw that his crew had, indeed, charged into the camp, likely at the first call of alarm to try to maintain some semblance of surprise. The monsters had been prepared for an attack, however, and responded quickly, blocking his crew from emerging into the camp in full. As such, only about five of the nine had made it in while the others had bunched up behind them, unable to get through.

The five in the camp clashed with six bokoblins and two moblins, while the other bokoblins that had been around the fire looked to be scrambling to get bows and make their way up to higher ground. Link's force was outnumbered and would be quickly cut down if he didn't act immediately.

He shot to his feet and sprinted forward. He didn't bother donning his shield, as that would have only slowed him down. Instead, he drew his sword and released a battle cry, though if any of the monsters heard him, they didn't react.

The biggest of the moblins grabbed onto the haft of Hoz's halberd and used it to shove the man back into two of the other Hylians. The three of them went down in a heap, and the moblin turned the halberd over in its hands, lifting it and preparing to drive it down into the fallen Hylians.

Unable to reach them in time, Link threw his sword. The blade spun through the air, catching the light of the bonfire as it flew, and then struck the moblin in the back. It did little damage—a shallow cut diagonally down the moblins back—but it was enough to give it pause, thankfully. That was enough time for two of the Hylians in the back row to hop over Hoz and take his place near the front.

Now, however, Link's presence was noted. The moblin spun, still holding Hoz's halberd, eyes alight with rage. It saw him and reacted quickly, thrusting the weapon straight for his heart.

In battle, fear and shock were often responsible for more deaths than any skilled opponent. Many inexperienced warriors might have stumbled when seeing a sharpened halberd stabbing towards them, wielded by an enormous, nine-foot tall beast. Perhaps they would have frozen as their life flashed before their eyes, making themselves easy targets. Or maybe they would have leaped to the side, avoiding the first blow, but leaving themselves vulnerable to the follow-up.

Unfortunately for the moblin, Link was not inexperienced.

He slapped the flat of the halberd's blade aside, though not hard enough to send the moblin off-balance, relying more on speed and surprise than strength. Before the moblin could react to his move, Link was already well within its guard.

And then he passed it, spinning on his heels to halt his momentum before he ran straight into the press of bodies at the entrance of the camp. He scooped up his sword, its edge bloodied, and when the moblin turned to find him again, Link was rearmed and ready.

The moblin appeared confused. The creatures were rarely intelligent, typically nothing more than brutes with big weapons. He had often found quick, unexpected moves such as the one he had just done to be excellent ways to keep the tall monsters from gaining the upper hand.

This moblin was, perhaps, smarter than the average, however. While it had clearly been confused by his maneuver, it recovered its wits before Link could capitalize on it and swung the bladed edge of the halberd towards his right side.

If he'd had his shield handy, he could have easily deflected the attack, but without it, he was vulnerable to attacks on that side. He quickly passed his sword from his left hand to his right and swung downward, hoping to deflect the halberd down into the dirt, but only succeeded in pushing the weapon down to the level of his knees.

The deflection likely still saved him, even if it wasn't as effective as he'd wanted. In striking the halberd, Link managed to turn the blade enough that, when it hit his leg, it was with the flat side, rather than the sharp edge. It still tripped him, sending him to the dirt, but the weapon left bruises, rather than deep cuts.

Later, Link would be thankful for that. For now, he cursed in pain as he hit the ground. The moblin trumpeted in triumph, eager to land the killing blow, but Link rolled towards it and thrust upward with his sword. He pierced the moblin's thigh, and the creature's triumphant sound became a bellow of pain as it dropped the halberd.

He jumped to his feet as the moblin fell onto its backside, holding its wounded leg, and quickly put an end to the creature with a quick thrust to its chest. As the moblin died, he spun to face the other monsters, sweat beading on his forehead, and his breathing ragged.

Other monsters had noticed him now, with some turning to face him, which had the added benefit of allowing the rest of his crew to rush in, pushing into the camp proper. Link shoved his toe under the fallen halberd, kicking it up to his hand. He tossed it towards Hoz, who deftly caught it and rammed it into a distracted bokoblin.

Good, Link thought, feeling more confident now that their numbers were more evenly matched. Now, where's that other moblin?

A moment later, the moblin tackled him.

The beast landed atop him, pressing the air from Link's lungs as it scrabbled with his swinging arms. His sword made contact with the monster's arm, but the blow was pitiful, and if it even drew blood, the moblin didn't appear to be bothered. Link tried again, but this time, the moblin grabbed his sword arm by the wrist, slamming it painfully against the ground. The sword clanged free of Link's numb grip.

Swearing, Link writhed, trying to knock the moblin off, but its hold on him was firm. It straddled him, holding one arm down and then managing to catch his other arm as he tried to punch it. This, too, he pinned against the ground, leaving Link with both of his arms spread out to either side of him.

Moblins were ugly creatures. Like bokoblins, they were piggish in appearance, with a long snout nearly the length of a man's forearm ending in a flattened nose, a tall torso, and thick arms, each nearly as long as the moblin was tall. Their legs, by comparison, were short and stubby, though built with thick muscle. Atop their heads was usually a long, sometimes curved, horn.

It opened its mouth, revealing a row of sharp, crooked teeth, and sent its putrid breath wafting over his face. He tried ineffectually to kick it off again, but its hold on him was secure. Pinned as he was, his options to fight back were limited.

For a moment, they were stuck like that. Link couldn't knock it off of him, but its hands were stuck to either side, as well, holding his arms in place. If only they could have remained in that position a few seconds longer.

They didn't, however, and the moblin's leer grew as it released Link's arms, reaching instead for his neck. Link tried to beat its hands away, but each of the moblin's hands was the size of his head. His blows were useless, and the moblin got its fingers around his throat, beginning to squeeze.

Link felt his airway constrict. He clawed at the moblin's hands, but the beast was far stronger than him. He desperately cast his mind about, trying to think of a way to get out of the moblin's grip before his windpipe was completely crushed. Could he use his powers?

He reached for his sword, trying to recall it to his hand. Telekinesis or time reversal or whatever he needed—he didn't care, he just needed his sword!

Suddenly, the tip of a halberd thrust out from the center of the moblin's chest.

The moblin's grip slackened as it looked down at the weapon impaling it. It gave a pained-sounding bleat, and its eyes glazed over a moment later. It slipped to the side, falling in a heap. Standing over the body was Hoz, face bloodied from a fresh cut across his temple, expression relieved once he saw Link take a deep, ragged breath.

"Hylia above, I'm glad I got here in time!" Hoz said, reaching down to help Link to his feet.

Link stood, rubbing at his neck and wincing at the soreness. "Thanks, Hoz… It had me."

"Sir, watch out!" a voice cried out from behind Hoz.

A moment later, an arrow deflected off the top of his helmet. Both men cursed, and each dodged in opposite directions, as another arrow flew right through where they'd been standing.

Finally, Link donned his shield on his right arm and then picked up his sword for the second time that fight. He scanned around and spotted two bokoblins wielding bows standing atop the house. One of them nocked another arrow and loosed it in his direction, but he got his shield up, and the arrow bounced off harmlessly.

Thankfully, Link's crew had come prepared for this. Even as Link looked for a way up to the roof of the house, an arrow sprouted from the chest of one of the bokoblins. It screeched as it toppled off the house, and its fellow ducked low, its long ears quivering.

Link raised his fist to the member of his crew who had shot the arrow and then took the moment to judge the state of the fight. Things had turned to his team's advantage, as the two moblins were now down, along with several bokoblins. None of Link's crew were down, though he saw two hanging back, one with a wound in her shoulder, and the other bleeding from a wound on his scalp.

He prepared to dive back into the fray, eager to finish off the bokoblins and trusting to his team's archer to keep the remaining bokoblin archer at bay. But as he glanced around the camp one more time, he saw a shadow rise from within the barn.

A large shadow, and one with two glowing red eyes.

The giant bokoblin stepped out of the barn's open door. Most normal bokoblins were short, squat things—shorter than the average Hylian adult, and even shorter than Link himself, who was also several inches below the average. They had long, bat-like ears and flat noses, and tended to be thin and scrawny.

This creature bore some resemblance to its smaller brethren, but only some. It was tall, easily greater than, perhaps, twelve feet tall, with a torso shaped like a thick barrel. It had muscular arms that made moblins look skinny, each ending in three fingers, each the width of Link's forearm. Its face was round, with its beady, glowing red eyes, nearly overshadowed by its thick brows and wide mouth full of sharp teeth. While normal bokoblins usually had one or two squat horns on their heads, this one had a ring of horns, almost like a crown, around its head, and then one, longer one in the center of its head.

It was nearly naked, dressed in only a leather loincloth that wrapped around its bulk. Around its neck hung a necklace of skulls—skulls that looked quite a bit like those of Hylians or Sheikah. Its red skin was striped with yellow splashes of warpaint.

It grinned and hefted a massive single-sided axe, with a blade like a butcher's cleaver, against its shoulder. And then it charged, right at him, as well as the monster crew directly behind him.

"Scatter!" Link cried.

Thankfully, the remaining bokoblins had a similar idea. All of the fighters, Hylian or bokoblin, darted to the sides. Link, on the other hand, watched as the boulder of a bokoblin crossed the distance towards him, its axe, which had to weigh more than him held high in both hands.

Like the moblin from earlier, he thought that maybe this giant was a little bit surprised when he didn't immediately try to run or dodge. But Link had fought giants in the past. Some had been mechanical in nature, while others were flesh and blood. Some had walked on four legs, others two, and yet others had flown with no legs at all.

He knew how to fight giants.

The giant swept its axe in a diagonal chop, and Link leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding the blow. The axe slammed into the ground, sending up a shower of dirt and stone, forcing him to raise his shield to protect his face from the projectiles. He'd hoped that maybe the monster would get its weapon lodged in the ground, giving him an opening to strike, but the bokoblin grunted and wrenched its axe free with apparent ease.

The two stared at each other, Link having to look up to lock eyes with the creature. He didn't know if the others were still fighting or if everyone had stopped in order to watch the new conflict taking place.

"I take it you're the boss," Link said, settling into his stance.

The creature bellowed in response, sending spittle down onto him. Lovely. He supposed he would need to try to find a stream to launder his clothes sooner, rather than later. Perhaps he would go west and skirt north alongside the Regencia to get to the pass that led towards the Hebra mountains.

He sprang forward and the giant swung its fist for him, which he ducked under. Before he could lunge forward with his sword, however, the bokoblin swung its axe at him again in a one-handed grip, sending him rolling to avoid the blow.

The enormous bokoblin moved much quicker than its bulk would have suggested, and its attacks were quick and vicious, if predictable. As Link ducked, rolled, and leaped its attacks, he did manage to get a few strikes in, cutting shallow gashes along the bokoblin's forearms and side. Nothing that slowed it down enough to make a big difference in its attacks, however.

All the while, its red, glowing eyes unnerved Link. He'd seen eyes like that before, during a harrowing night with a red moon and an army of the dead.

The bokoblin struck his shield with its fist, and he stumbled back, his arm aching from the blow. He had to be careful—the bokoblin was likely strong enough to break bones if it landed a solid-enough blow, even with the shield.

Seeing his stumble as an opening, the bokoblin tried to chop Link in two with an overhead swing. Link let the axe fall, sidestepping it as it slammed into the ground beside him. He felt the ground shiver at the blow, and again, rocks and dirt sprayed out to the sides, pelting him.

In that brief moment, however, he struck. Link brought his sword down in a brutal chop that cut deep into the bokoblin's wrist. It wasn't enough to sever it, but the cut was to the bone, and the giant screamed. It released its hold on the axe and brought its damaged wrist to its chest, clutching it with its other hand.

Link lunged, shoving his sword deep into the thing's belly. Blood and gore coated his arms as the giant shuddered, trying to swat him away. Link leaned in, letting the beast slap ineffectually at his back, and swept his sword out, widening the large gash in the thing's belly.

As the giant tried to keep its guts from spilling out of the hole, Link stabbed once more, this time seeking the bokoblin's heart. Unfortunately, the thing's bulk and size made finding its heart from Link's position nearly impossible. Though Link pierced its belly from just under where he thought its sternum would be, his angle was off.

The bokoblin's fist found Link's side and sent him through the air, right into the spit and deer carcass over the bonfire. He felt the flames briefly lick at his exposed skin, but then he and the spit collapsed past the edge of the flames. He rolled, grimacing at a wrench of pain in his left shoulder, and rose to his feet, panting.

He flexed his left arm. It ached, but it didn't appear to be broken or sprained, thankfully. He'd also managed to keep his hold on his sword this time, which was unfortunate for the giant bokoblin, who now had another deep gash in its stomach.

It looked at Link with hatred in its glowing red eyes, lips pulled back in a grimace of pain, and took a step towards him. Its axe had been left behind, and it appeared ready to fight Link with its bare hands. It was dying, but it wanted to at least take him with it.

He sighed and swept his sword out to the side, sending a spray of the thing's blood to the ground as he adopted his stance once more. Link's muscles burned. He was out of breath. Exhausted. The only thing keeping him going now was sheer adrenaline.

An arrow whizzed through the air and sprouted from one of the bokoblin's nostrils.

The creature's eyes widened briefly as it looked, cross-eyed, at the length of wood that had pierced its nasal cavity. There was confusion in its expression and shock. Then the red light behind its pupils faded. Maybe the arrow had pierced its brain, or the blood loss had finally caught up to it. Either way, the giant fell forward, landing on and smothering the bonfire, sending out a wave of ash and sparks before darkness fell around the camp.

The monster control crew gave a cheer, and at least one bokoblin screamed in terror, bolting for the entrance of the encampment. It was cut down, and another cheer rose from the gathered warriors.

Link's shoulders slumped, his left arm slackening and letting his sword's blade rest on the ground. He took deep breaths, trying to steady himself. His legs felt like leaden weights, and his throat was parched. Every breath filled his nostrils with the putrid smells of blood and unwashed bodies. His heart beat so fast and hard that he grew alarmed. He worried he might vomit.

"Link! Are you all right?" Hoz said, moving towards him quickly. "You took a hard hit there at the end."

Link nodded, letting his sword fall to the ground. He lifted a hand to ward off Hoz and continued to take deep breaths through his mouth. Gradually, his heart slowed, and his breathing grew easier.

"I'm all right," he finally said, looking up and meeting the other man's eyes. "Just a bit winded."

"Why don't you sit down? Take a breather."

"No, the prisoners, I want to—"

"We're already handling it." Hoz nodded to where a couple of members of his crew were breaking the locks on the cages. Others were inspecting the house and barn for any stragglers. Apparently, during Link's fight with the giant bokoblin, the crew had taken advantage of the other monsters' distraction to finish them off—just as he'd taught them to do in situations like this.

Link nodded and sat down on a hollowed log that had been turned into a seat near the fire. The giant bokoblin, laying right in front of him, twitched.

How had it gotten so large? Link had never seen a bokoblin grow taller than an average Hylian. Was it just a new variety they had never seen, or was this also somehow related to Ganondorf's power? Was he creating new monsters? And if so, what other horrors might the Demon King be capable of unleashing on Hyrule?

He sat there for a time as the camp bustled around him. Finally, Hoz came to him again, placing a hand on Link's shoulder. "Link? We're ready to head back to camp, if you are."

Blinking, Link realized that he'd been staring into the giant's dead eyes for longer than he realized. The moon had moved in the sky. How long had he been sitting there?

He shook himself and rose, feeling his body protest, but ignoring it. When he looked around, he took stock of the gathered Hylians. Several had suffered wounds in the fight, but none looked life-threatening. Furthermore, the captured Hylians were there, too, huddled in blankets and looking scared.

He took another breath, ridding himself of the dire thoughts that he'd been turning over in his head, and nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten: The Lucky Clover Gazette

Link parted ways with the monster control crew the following morning. Hoz's team had seen to the captured Hylians, two of whom had been traveling the nearby road, while the other had been a researcher of sorts that Link was pretty sure he'd seen before. They didn't know why the monsters had captured them, rather than just attacked them. It was unusual behavior, but it was a mystery for another day.

He cut west to skirt north along the Regencia River, taking the opportunity to wash his filthy clothes. Even after washing them with water from the camp and then the river, however, the giant bokoblin's blood would not fully come out.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten so completely covered in gore. It didn't bother him as much as it had when he was a youth and a squire, but he still disliked the… well, butchery of it all. He enjoyed a contest and would gladly spar with any warriors, testing his skill against theirs, but he genuinely wished he didn't have to kill.

He reached the Carok Bridge and crossed out of Central Hyrule after the sun had set. All day, he'd found his eyes drawn to the enormous, swirling cloud over the Hebra Mountains. It was still days off, but it was already beginning to loom over the horizon. It brought to mind the way Divine Beast Vah Ruta had called down a perpetual rain over Zora's Domain during Link's journey to defeat Calamity Ganon.

Purah's assertion that the Divine Beast could, somehow, be responsible for it felt all the more likely. True, that technology should have been permanently rendered nonoperational, but the ancient Sheikah tech had survived being buried for more than 10,000 years. Who was to say that it didn't have some other undiscovered surprises within?

He grimaced. Of the four Divine Beasts, reaching Vah Medoh had been the most uncomfortable trip. He'd been required to ride on Teba's back while the Rito strained to carry them both into the sky. It had been highly unpleasant for both of them.

But, he thought, better something as familiar as shutting down a Divine Beast than something completely unknown. After all, there wasn't a soul alive more accomplished at disabling Divine Beasts than he.

Link was relieved when he saw the lights in the night, signifying the small village that had popped up on the North Hyrule Plain. New Serenne was one of many such settlements that had appeared after the Calamity. Based on Link's recollection, it was mostly populated with Hylians that had migrated from the north, near the Tabantha tundra, as well as from the west, near the Rito Village.

Like many others, it was a tiny, farming community, as well as a convenient way stop for merchants and travelers heading towards the Rito. During the Calamity, it had been impossible to settle this land, thanks to a handful of Guardians that patrolled near the field. Now, however, it had become an ideal location.

As Spirit's hooves clopped on the dirt road, Link noticed three tough-looking men who sat at a table near the entrance of the village. As one, they all stood as he approached, and though none of them looked unfriendly, the pair of woodsmen's axes and single pitchfork made their purpose clear.

"Late to be out traveling," the first one said. He was about as tall and bulky as Hudson, though lacking the builder's signature haircut and mustache.

Link dismounted and stretched his back, grunting. He was still sore from the fight the day prior, and spending most of the last two days in the saddle didn't help. He smiled up at the man. "You're telling me. You wouldn't know if there are any beds available in the inn, would you?"

"Aye, I suspect so. Haven't seen many travelers lately. You run into any trouble on the road?"

Link shook his head. "Not on the road from Mount Daphnes. Have you been having problems?"

The man grunted. "We've had a few run-ins. Got some monsters that set up in some caves down in the Breach. They like to come up and poke at us every once in a while."

It didn't surprise Link to hear that. That particular canyon, the Breach of Demise, had always been a hotbed, even as far back as the pre-Calamity days. It bothered him, though. Memories flashed through his head of an old stable community, burned to the ground, its inhabitants slaughtered. It wasn't Link's fault—not really. He'd accepted that. But he still felt the regret of not having done more, and he hated the idea of leaving people like this to fend for themselves.

"Where ya headed?"

"Rito Village."

"You see the storm, don't ya? I hear the whole place is blanketed in snow."

Thus far, the big man didn't seem to recognize Link, which was a relief. He'd gotten used to being gawked at, but he would never enjoy it. Unfortunately, one of the man's companions was squinting at Link, as if trying to remember where he knew him from. And, a moment later, his eyes widened.

"Bran!" said the big man's companion. "Do you know who this is? It's Link—the Champion!"

The big man, Bran, blinked, looking back at the other man in confusion. Then his gaze fell on Link again, and his expression grew stricken. "Oh! Mister Link, I'm sorry! I didn't recognize—"

"It's okay!" Link said, raising his hands. "It's fine. I'm just… looking for a place to stay the night, and then I'm going to be on my way."

"So you're heading up to the Rito to figure out the storm? Are you trying to get rid of those flying islands, too?"

Link suppressed a sigh.

The next day, Link did see some other travelers on the road. He passed by a merchant caravan that had been on the way to Rito Village but forced to turn around when they found the terrain too treacherous to continue. He also came across a musical troupe, of all things, and helped them reattach a wheel on their wagon after it had come free during a rough bump in the road.

As he watched the Stable Trotters, as they liked to call themselves, trundle off in their rickety cart, he smiled fondly at memories that blossomed in his mind. He'd first met Kass, the Rito bard, at a stable. Link wasn't at all surprised to find others emulating the way Kass had traveled to the various way stops, inns, and stables in Hyrule—the Rito had become reasonably famous in his own right.

Thoughts of Kass made other memories come to mind. He'd traveled this road with his friend while venturing out to stop Vah Medoh six years ago. He remembered the way Kass had soothed him during that tumultuous period, when some of Link's worst memories had surfaced, blending past and present and leaving him conflicted.

He wished Kass were here now. He could genuinely use the Rito's advice in light of all that had happened in the last month. Unfortunately, however, Kass was many miles away, perhaps not even aware of the turmoil that Hyrule currently suffered. It had been some time since Link last heard from him.

He camped alongside the road, under the bows of one of the tall, flat-topped dragon blood trees. He felt a thrill of excitement at seeing the trees, remembering why they were called such, and the next morning, he got a much earlier start to the day, setting out hours before dawn. He rode Spirit quickly and managed to arrive at his destination just as the sun began to peek out from above the distant trees to the east.

The stable was located right beneath a notably large tree, and the surrounding community had expanded over the past six years, mirroring the increased traffic on this road. However, it was still smaller than the village where Link had stayed two nights earlier.

Beyond the stable was the wide Tanagar Canyon, and the equally wide Tabantha Bridge, looking just as it had during his travels with Kass. The sides of the canyon sprouted with tall windmills, each working almost constantly as the canyon formed a natural wind tunnel.

He walked with Spirit out onto the bridge, glancing back again to check the position of the sun. He was certain he'd arrived in time, considering what time the sun rose in the summer months. He turned his gaze north, to the distant bend in the canyon. Everything was still shadowy there, the sun's light not yet reaching it.

Beside him, Spirit blew out a snort, perhaps wondering why it had been so necessary for them to rise so early, but Link didn't want to miss this opportunity. He always loved witnessing Dinraal's flight, even a hundred years prior. For centuries, the dragon had followed the same path each day, at the exact same time. Link had watched it with Zelda during their early travels, and he'd watched it with Kass on theirs.

The sun rose higher as he waited, and Spirit's pawed the wooden bridge impatiently, the sound of his hooves echoing off the canyon's walls. Still, Link waited, knowing that the dragon would soon appear in the distance, flying with its strange grace, and pass directly under the bridge. He looked forward to the moment that all of the windmills would snap into place, facing one direction, spinning rapidly as the wind announced the dragon's approach.

The sun continued to rise, its light cresting the eastern edge of the canyon and beginning to spill into the canyon, lighting the darkness.

At first, Link reasoned that his internal clock was off. He'd lost a month with Zelda and then in the sky, after all. Dawn came earlier in the summer, and it was still earlier in the morning than he realized. Soon, however, he was forced to acknowledge the truth.

For the first time that Link had ever known, Dinraal, the dragon so consistent that people could set their clocks in time with his passing, did not come.

He remained on the bridge for longer than necessary, feeling both confused and deflated. Eventually, the clicking of talons on wood announced the presence of a Rito behind him. Link turned and saw a tall Rito with a long, pointed beak, who wore a thick fur cap and a pair of goggles, walking up to him.

"Are you out here waiting for the dragon?" the Rito asked.

"Yeah, I thought—does she not fly this way anymore?"

"Nope. Not since the whole Upheaval! No one knows why she changed."

"Oh."

The Rito climbed atop the bridge's railing, gripping it with his long talons to steady himself, and adjusted his goggles. He looked down at Link and tilted his head for a moment. "You look familiar." But then he shrugged. "Anyway, are you coming from or going to Rito Village?"

"Going."

"You might need to grow wings if you want to get there. I heard a rumor that the storm took out the bridge! I'm heading that way too—haven't been there in weeks!"

"I'll manage. I need to speak with the elder."

"Suit yourself. Stop in at the Gazette if you need anything!" The Rito gave Link a salute with his wing. "Soar long!" And then he fell backwards off the railing, turning and spreading his wings to catch the breeze, allowing it to carry him up and out of the canyon. Link watched the Rito as he rose and turned in the air, flying north over the highlands, in the direction of Rito Village.

Link glanced one more down the canyon to the distant bend, where sunlight now bathed the rock with its brilliance. What else had changed in Hyrule following Ganondorf's awakening?

There were no other way stops on the way to Rito Village, as the environment grew rocky and mountainous, ever sloping upward. As Link walked through the pass between the Rayne Highlands and the Piper Ridge, he thought again of his journey through here with Kass, when he'd rediscovered the ancient ruins atop the highlands, and the Sheikah Shrine up there, along with some potent and painful memories.

As he considered those memories, the air was rent by a shrieking roar that echoed off the stone walls. Link had ducked, sword out in a flash, looking about wildly for the source of the noise. High up on the opposite ridge, he saw a large shadow move and take flight, huge wings outstretched. The creature, whatever it was, never passed directly over the canyon, and he didn't get a good look at it. What kind of beast had that been?

Unnerved, he continued cautiously, eyes on the sky.

The road to Rito Village wasn't completely devoid of life. Twice, he passed travelers coming from the opposite direction. Both groups said the same thing: the village was frozen over and only accessible by those with wings.

Once, he encountered a pack of lizalfos that had looked to make a meal of him and Spirit.

All throughout, the air grew colder. By his sixth day of travel since leaving Lookout Landing, it started to snow. At first, it was light—small flakes that melted on his clothes or the ground. But that didn't last, and by the time he camped that night, south of the Kotami bridge and still a full day's ride from Rito Village, he had entered the outskirts of the blizzard.

The next morning, Link woke in his tent, dreading the need to leave the comfort of his bedroll. The air was crisp, and his breath came out as a plume of steam. He finally forced himself up and dressed in his warm Rito tunic and cloak, stepping out into nearly blinding white brilliance.

Two years prior, Hateno Village had experienced what many of the old-timers said was the worst snowfall in more than fifty years. More than two feet of snow had fallen over a period of three days, and that, combined with the wind, had caused all sorts of issues throughout the town. Several homes had roofs cave in, and a child had gone missing, requiring all able-bodied townspeople to go searching for her. Link's house had a snowdrift against it that had reached the second-story window.

The snow that covered the ground at Link's meager camp was not nearly so thick, yet it promised a difficult day of travel ahead. Here, the snow was six inches deep, with drifts many times higher. The air was, perhaps, not quite cold enough for the snow to last, but the wind out of the north stung Link's face as he set about his preparations for the day.

Building a fire in the snow wasn't easy. Thankfully, Link had come prepared, gathering dry wood along the way and keeping it safely stored in waterproof bags. He still had to clear a patch of ground, however, and then get the wood to light. Despite the difficulty, Link eventually had a nice, warm fire and a cookpot atop it.

After a small breakfast, he packed up and saddled Spirit. "We've got a long day ahead of us, boy," he said, patting the horse's neck. "It sure would be easier if that transport point were working." With a click of his tongue, they set off with a slow pace, into the wind and snow.

The weather only got worse.

By noon, he suspected there was at least nine inches of snow on the ground. The road was completely covered over, as were the hillsides, and the branches on the trees. He saw few signs of life on the road—the animal life, he imagined, was confused by the sudden change in season.

He could tell that the trudging through the snow tired Spirit, as well. The horse was strong, but the constant headwind and deepening snow underfoot could not be ignored forever. By the mid-afternoon, they had covered maybe half the distance they'd gone the day prior.

Link had to keep a tight grip on his cloak, lest it blow free as the wind howled, kicking up snow and ice. His eyes stung, his nose and cheeks were numb, his toes hurt. The column of cloud and snow overhead flashed with lightning and distant thunder.

If it weren't for the rocky pass that the road wound through before reaching Rito Village, Link may have been forced to make camp another night. Thankfully, in the pass, the snow was lighter, though the wind shrieked as it funneled through. He dismounted, giving Spirit a break, and led the horse by the halter.

Disconcertingly, he noticed things in the narrow canyon that he'd never seen before. New rifts in the rock—caves and openings into darkness. And from out of that darkness came odd sounds. Whoops and grunts and barks. They didn't sound like anything he knew, and the skin on the back of his neck prickled as he passed one such cave and thought, for the briefest moment, that he saw a pair of eyes reflecting the light and looking back at him.

Nothing ventured out of the caves, though Link was certain that those eyes kept watching him out of those dark openings, even when he couldn't see them. Whatever they belonged to, they remained shrouded in the dark, and he made no effort to find out more.

As the slot of visible sky overhead darkened, Link finally reached the edge of the pass, emerging back out onto the plain and into the storm.

He knew from previous experience that where he emerged was at the top of a long, gentle decline, winding through a small forest, to the edge of a large lake—Lake Totori—which was nestled in a basin between mountains and plateaus on all four sides. In the center of that lake was the tall, spire-shaped island where the bulk of the Rito made their home. This position normally gave him a fantastic view of the entire valley, with Mount Hebra and its hooked peak to the north, the Rito Spire to the west, and Cuho Mountain to the south.

He couldn't see any of it. Here, the snow and wind were so thick that all Link could see was a curtain of white in all directions. The wind was constant, causing his cloak to flap and Spirit's saddlebags to rattle. Overhead, thunder roiled, the sky occasionally split by hazy bolts of lightning.

The snow was at least two feet deep, and far deeper where drifts gathered.

"Oh, Hylia," Link said, and his voice was caught by the wind and taken away so that even Spirit, standing beside him, couldn't hear him. "How am I supposed to stop this?"

He mounted Spirit again, and they set off down the hill.

Were it not for the constant, downward slope, he likely would have gotten completely lost out in the storm. He might as well have been blind, but there were a few key landmarks he knew he could use to get to his destination, even if he got off course.

Which he did.

His Purah Pad was not much help, as it clearly had difficulty tracking his location with the storm overhead, and by the time he got to the bottom of the large hill and found the woods that ringed Lake Totori, he had ventured far south of where he needed to go.

Night had fallen by the time he saw the first flicker of orange torchlight in the otherwise grey-white dark. They'd been trudging through the snow, skirting along the woods, for over two hours, trying to find their way again, and he had almost resigned himself to having to spend the night in the snow.

Link let out a soft groan of relief. "Come on, boy, almost there," he said, urging Spirit on. The horse was tired, head low, movements sluggish. Link walked beside him, and both of them left deep furrows in the snow that quickly faded with fresh snowfall.

Slowly, a shape appeared in the dark. It was a large, round building with a giant wooden horse head attached to its roof… or at least, it would have been attached if it hadn't been blown over. Apparently, the storm winds had destroyed more than just the bridge.

Despite the damage, a pair of oil lanterns hung at the building's entrance, flickering fitfully. Thank the Goddess, Link thought. Before going into the inn, he took Spirit around to the side of the building, where a stable stood empty and dark.

Once his horse was situated, unsaddled, and given a bag of oats, Link ventured back out into the howling wind and approached the door to the inn. That's when he saw the new-looking plaque on the door, which displayed a green four-leaf clover with the words LUCKY CLOVER GAZETTE carved through its center.

Perplexed, Link pushed the door open, stepping into the building he had once been an inn for Hylians traveling to or working near Rito Village. Now, the old common room had been transformed into something that kind of resembled Purah's laboratory, with numerous sheets of paper and boxes strewn about.

Gone were the half-dozen or so round dining tables, replaced with one large rectangular table with six chairs around it. The table was covered in various papers, along with a stack of dirty dishes and ale steins. A fireplace sat off to one side of the room, the embers cold, several chairs forming a semicircle in front of it. Around the perimeter of the room were numerous boxes stacked atop each other, most bearing that same four-leaf clover design, and the walls were plastered with large sheets of paper, with words printed on them in big, blocky letters.

As Link stood in the doorway of the dark room, he heard the distinct sound of urgent voices coming from somewhere in the back. Finally, one door along the back wall opened, spilling light out into the room, revealing the silhouette of a woman peering out at him.

"Hello? Who's there?" she said, not opening the door fully.

"Hi, sorry, I—I thought this was still an inn. It's… not, I take it?"

The woman was silent for a moment, and Link heard whispered voices behind her. Finally, she said, "Why are you out traveling so late? In fact, why are you traveling here at all?"

"I was coming to Rito Village and got a little turned around—look, did they move the inn to another building? I'm not trying to intrude."

"The innkeeper went and moved out to New Serenne. Opened a new place up there. I bought the place off him."

So that's why he looked so familiar, Link thought. Aloud, he said, "Oh. You don't… know anywhere around here I can stay the night, do you?"

The woman opened the door fully, spilling more light out into the common room. "Well, there isn't really anyone else out here but us," she said, stepping out and holding up a lantern. She squinted at Link's face, and then her eyes widened.

"Wait, I know you! You're—"

"Link. And you're… Traysi, right?"

"Oh! Yes. I didn't realize that you—right. Penn mentioned that there was some guy coming out this way. Why didn't he tell me that you're…"

Link had come across Traysi a couple of times in the last few years, first when she'd sought him and Zelda out to 'confirm rumors' that they were who they said they were. At the time, she'd been writing a kind of small magazine that reported on various unexplained mysteries and legends around Hyrule, and she'd been certain that the rumors of his and Zelda's identities were false.

Apparently, she had expanded her business since he last saw her the previous year, when she'd arrived at Hateno Village to confirm a rumor that Zelda was pregnant. Link was pretty sure she made up the rumor herself to bolster interest in her magazine.

"Sis? What's going on?" said another feminine voice from beyond the open doorway. When Link glanced around, there was another woman in the doorway. She bore a resemblance to Traysi, as both of them had similar facial features and the same shade of brown hair, though where Traysi was a bit on the shorter side, this woman was taller and slimmer.

Traysi looked back, waving a hand. "It's all right. I know him."

"Wait, is that—"

"Link. Yep—that's him. And he was about to tell me why he's come all the way out here, so…"

Well, Link supposed that was probably true enough, though he didn't think their conversation had quite progressed to that point yet. He opened his mouth to respond and do just that when the door behind him opened again, very nearly clipping him in the shoulder, and he spun, tense.

The tall Rito he'd met a couple of days ago on the Tabantha bridge stood in the doorway, his goggles over his eyes, cap drawn down over the sides of his face.

"No sign of him out there, and I think the snow is getting—oh! There you are." The Rito lifted the goggles from his face, revealing a pair of brown eyes. "I was just out looking for you."

"You were?" Link asked, eyebrows raising.

"Yep. After I got back and saw how bad it had gotten here, I figured someone ought to let you know before you came out here." He reached up, taking his furry cap off his head, and rubbed his crest of feathers there. "Guess I was a little late, though."

"Penn's been worried about the 'little Hylian guy' that he met on the bridge," Traysi said.

Link didn't think it all that fair to call him a little Hylian guy. All Hylians were short compared to Rito, after all.

"You kind of buried the lede, though, didn't you?" she continued, looking up at Penn with her fists on her hips. "You could have at least told me who was coming!"

Penn tilted his head, looking from her to Link and back. "Oh. Right. Should I… know him?" He looked at Link again. "Should I know you?"

"Wait, seriously? You don't know who he is?" Traysi said. At Penn's look of confusion, she sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, Penn. This is Link."

Penn nodded slowly. "Right. Link." He gave Link a Rito smile, which was conveyed mostly through their eyes and cheeks. And then he tilted his head again. "Wait, Link? Isn't that the name of…"

Traysi nodded significantly, and Penn's eyes widened. "Oh! Wow! Good to meet you, buddy!" He quickly extended his two wings, grabbing Link's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "I know I probably should have recognized you, but honestly, all you Hylians look pretty much the same to me."

"It's all right," Link said, shaking Penn's wings. "Nice to meet you, too."

"It's funny, because we were just about to start an investigation into—oh." Penn looked back up at Traysi. "I guess we'll have to shelf that one, huh?"

Traysi frowned, eyes on Link. "I guess so. But Link, why are you out here? Are you here to talk to the Rito about the storm?"

"I am. Have you heard anything? Do you know what's causing it?"

Traysi shook her head. "Not a clue! All I know is that the Rito have been trying to figure it out, but they're starting to run low on food, now that the lake is frozen."

"Even flying is tough," Penn said. "I nearly got blown out of the sky on the way over here after meeting you at the bridge."

Link grimaced. "Well, I'm here to hopefully help figure out what's going on. And you haven't seen the Divine Beast flying around?"

They hadn't. From what Traysi and Juanelle, her sister, could tell, the storm just appeared out of nowhere. It formed around the same time that the sky islands appeared in the sky, but it had been smaller at first and had been growing stronger over time. Penn hadn't been here at the time, having been sent on a fact-finding mission by the newspaper.

It concerned Link, the way they described the storm. When Vah Medoh had terrorized the Rito six years prior, it had done so, largely through intimidation and shooting Rito that got too close out of the sky. Of the four Divine Beasts, it had been one of the more passive, though it had been showing clear signs of increased aggression near the end.

The Divine Beast had been able to control the wind to some degree. Zelda had spoken of it back during their travels before the Calamity. The propellers on the enormous machine simply shouldn't have been able to keep it aloft in the air. All of the Divine Beasts had connected with their respective elements of wind, lightning, water, and fire in some fashion, as well as the lands in which they originated.

But while Vah Ruta had been able to create rain by spraying water into the air and creating persistent rain clouds over Zora's Domain, Vah Medoh had never shown such abilities. It wasn't out of the question, but it also didn't feel right to him, now that he was here. And if Vah Medoh was flying around, why hadn't the Rito sent for some of the Sheikah scientists?

After some pressure from Traysi, Link shared his own story with the members of the Lucky Clover Gazette, with some omissions. He intentionally didn't mention the destruction of the Master Sword, for one, nor did he discuss Zelda's time travel. He did speak of Ganondorf, and the power that he wielded, and only after did he consider that his words very well could end up as headlines in the Gazette.

"So… just so I understand things right," Traysi said, leaning forward in her chair. The four of them had gathered in front of the fireplace, each seated in a chair and drinking steaming cider. "Zelda is missing? You've seen her, you know she's alive, but she's missing."

Link winced. He wondered if he should have phrased that a little differently—perhaps indicate that she was working to defeat Ganondorf in some way. He couldn't take the words back now, however.

"Yeah. She's alive, but… I don't know where she is."

"Do you think she's been captured by that Demon King guy?"

Link hesitated. He didn't think so, but he also couldn't deny the possibility. What if she returned from the past and right into his clutches? "I don't know. It's possible." Traysi and Penn shared a significant look, and Link looked at them expectantly. "What?"

"Well… We had been planning on launching an investigative piece into your whereabouts, after you and your wife were gone so long and things started going crazy."

"Right!" Penn said, clapping his wings together. "So I'm wondering if maybe we can still do that, but more focused on figuring out what's happened to Princess Zelda."

"I—really?" Link said, surprised by this turn in conversation. "I mean, do you really think you'd be able to find anything out? And where would you even start?"

Traysi spoke up again. "Well, if you saw her, then it stands to reason that others might have, as well, right? So we can start there. Penn can get around quickly, so he can start asking around, and we can publish an article encouraging readers to send news of, I don't know, princess sightings or something."

Link frowned. "I'm not sure. I'm worried that it might cause even more fear, knowing she's missing."

"There's already plenty of fear to go around," Traysi said. "I mean, Hebra is engulfed in a freak blizzard, monsters are roaming all over the place, and chunks of rock are falling from the sky.

"Besides, people love a good mystery. If we frame it right, we could get people talking without making it seem all bad." She spread her hands in midair, as if picturing the newspaper before her. "Reliable sources tell us that Zelda, former princess and savior of Hyrule, was seen as recently as last week in Hateno Village. Where is she now, and what could she be working on? Only time will tell, but if you have any insights into her whereabouts, we'd love to hear about it!"

Link still wasn't convinced, yet her promise of help in finding Zelda was enticing. He doubted it would turn up anything, but she was right. With everything going on in Hyrule, perhaps even the hint that Zelda was doing something about it would be a beacon of hope.

Finally, he nodded. "Okay. Just… be careful what you write. She means a lot to a lot of people. I don't want to make things worse."

With that, Traysi, Penn, and Juanelle began to outline their plan.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven: Empty Nests

The bridge that had once spanned the gap between the mainland and the first in a series of three spire-like islands that led up to Rito Village was broken. Whether because of the weight of snowfall or because of the gusts of wind, Link wasn’t sure, but the old rope bridge had snapped.

“Hmm… I wonder if Penn could manage to fly down there and grab the bridge and fly it back up,” Traysi said, standing beside Link, her legs half-buried in a snow drift.

Link shook his head. “I don’t think so. It would be heavy, and most Rito I know have a lot of trouble lifting a lot of weight without a good updraft.”

“Yeah… You’re probably right. Maybe if we had a whole team of Rito, though. Hopefully Penn comes back with a bunch of them.”

That morning had begun as frigid and snowy as the night had ended. Link had slept in an extra bed that Traysi had in the back room. Apparently, she, her two sisters, and Penn all had beds there, but her other sister, Douma, was off chasing a story regarding mythical fairy fountains. After Link cooked them up a hearty breakfast, Penn flew across to see who was around in the village.

Beside the broken bridge was a large stack of boxes, which very possibly would have been buried under snow drifts were it not for the efforts being made to keep them accessible. Mostly foodstuffs, these were the supplies that Purah had attempted to send to the Rito as it became harder and harder for them to produce their own provisions.

To someone who didn’t understand, a person might have questioned why anyone needed to be concerned about the broken bridge. The Rito could fly over and get food anytime they wanted, after all! And that was clearly what they had been doing, as evidenced by a few boxes that had been emptied and tossed to the side.

The problem, Link suspected, was sustainability. The flight from the central island to the ground outer edge of the basin was not short, especially with the storm’s winds. It would take time and effort to try to sustain the entire civilization like that, especially since a single Rito could only carry back so much.

That was, of course, if the supplies could even reach the Rito. With the snowfall, the road had effectively become impassable for wheeled carts. A sled could work, but only once the snow was reached—a solution, but hardly an ideal one.

Again, Link found himself wondering how he could even help here. He’d seen no sign of Vah Medoh flying overhead, though the flashes of lightning in the giant storm occasionally gave him glimpses of something in the middle of the clouds. It might have been the Divine Beast, but the shape had seemed wrong.

Traysi sighed, drawing her coat around her tighter and burying her face in her scarf. “Figures. I finally start to establish myself as a legitimate source of information, and I’m probably going to have to abandon our office and all of our supplies.”

He didn’t point out that the Rito’s lives were far more important than her business.

He turned his attention back to the broken bridge. It had snapped near the middle, leaving two sections of the bridge dangling, one on either end of the chasm. Could he use his powers to mend it, somehow? Perhaps with his telekinetic and fuse abilities? But he would need to try to bring both ends together, and as far as Link knew, he could only manipulate one object at a time.

Could he make a new bridge, however?

He looked around. There were the boxes near him, though those wouldn’t work. But there were also trees, some of which had been knocked down or broken in the storm. Could he fuse the trunks to form a bridge that spanned the gap? Could Link even lift something like an entire tree trunk? Rauru had indicated that telekinesis could be used to lift objects far heavier than Link could do so physically, but…

“Oh, I think I see them!” Traysi said.

Link turned, squinting his eyes against the swirling snow, searching for what she’d seen. Several seconds later, he saw the hint of a dark shadow within the nearly opaque curtain of grey-white snow. That shadow soon separated into two shapes, each with a large wingspan, flapping hard.

He could tell that the wind was not easy to fly in. As he watched, a gust blew one of the Rito off course, requiring them to work hard to correct their path. The other had reacted in time, banking in the air just enough to stay mostly in line with their intended flight path.

The flying silhouettes eventually resolved into two familiar-looking Rito. One was Penn, and the other…

Link grinned, lifting a hand and waving as the pair of Rito flew overhead, landing in the snow just behind him and Traysi. He turned to follow their descent as they each landed with a flourish of their wings, kicking up a cloud of snow and ice that briefly obscured them.

The taller of the Rito stood, turning to face Link with his imperious golden-eyed stare. “Link,” he said. “About time you made your way out here.”

“It’s good to see you too, Teba,” Link said, smiling broadly.

Teba was a strong Rito, with powerfully built wings, a viciously hooked beak, and a pair of eyebrows that always made him look like he was scowling (which, to be fair, he often was). He had a crest of white feathers that stood up atop his head like spikes, as well as mostly white wings, save for the grey feathers at his wingtips.

Six years prior, Teba had been instrumental in helping Link reach the flying Vah Medoh and defeating the creature that controlled it. The Rito had not been idle in the years since, either, having spent a great deal of effort to build up the Rito forces that had been depleted by the Divine Beast’s actions and the subsequent battles at Hateno Village and Hyrule Castle.

And that was before he’d been made the Rito elder the year prior.

Teba smiled, reaching out and placing a wing on Link’s shoulder, squeezing. “And you. Where have you been?”

“It’s a long story,” Link said. “Before we get into it, what’s been happening here? How are the Rito faring?”

Teba’s eyes hardened. “It isn’t good. Food’s scarce, and it’s gotten cold, even for the Rito—especially as you get out to the mountains.”

“Are the winds making it difficult to fly?”

“They’re manageable out here,” he said, eyes darting towards Penn.  “But the ones around the storm are a deathtrap for anyone but the best fliers.”

Link frowned. “You said the mountains are too cold for Rito, and that the winds are too strong near the storm. Why go there at all?”

Teba clicked his beak in irritation, and his tone sharpened. “Because we’re trying to figure out what in the Calamity is going on.” A moment later, likely in response to Link’s frown, the Rito sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry. It’s been a long few weeks.”

“Have you lost a lot of Rito?”

Teba looked over his shoulder, towards the distant mountains and the storm. “No. A few have disappeared, and we lost one when a downburst sent her crashing into the ground. We’ve got more broken wings than we have tail feathers, though, and getting them back to the village is all but impossible. The training grounds have become a triage.”

“Has there been any sign of Medoh?”

Teba remained silent for several seconds, eyes still on the storm. Lightning lit the storm from within, and for the briefest of moments, Link again thought he saw something shadowy within. The Rito finally turned his gaze back. “Maybe. But this all feels wrong. I flew Medoh, and I never found anything to suggest it could do this.”

“The Calamity made the Divine Beasts do things that Zelda never thought were possible, either. Neither she nor the Sheikah knew Ruta could cause endless rain.”

Teba grunted, folding his arms. “Point. Either way, no, we haven’t seen Medoh flying about, but there’s definitely something in the storm. Problem is that the winds at the storm wall are strong enough to snap our wings like twigs, not to mention the ice being flung around like a bunch of knives. There’s no way to get through it and survive.”

Teba’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he fixed his glare on Link. “But assuming it is Medoh, how is it back? I thought the whole point of shutting them down was to prevent this sort of thing from happening.”

“That’s what we—"

“Didn’t Zelda promise that they were permanently disabled with no way of restarting them without rebuilding them from the inside out?”

“Teba—”

“And where in the skies is she, anyway? She needs to be here—if this thing is Medoh, then I need her to—”

“She’s missing!”

Teba’s beak clicked shut.

“She’s missing,” Link said again, sighing. “I don’t know where she is.”

“Is she…”

“No. I know she’s alive, but…” Link reached up, throwing back his hood and running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. And there’s more.”

He launched into the explanation again. With members of the Lucky Clover Gazette still there, he kept the story brief and made the same omissions that he’d made with them—he would fill Teba in on the finer points later, when they had a chance to speak privately.

Once those explanations were complete, Teba rubbed his beak thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re going to want to make your way out to the mountains, then.”

Link grimaced but nodded. “If it is Medoh, then I want to do what I can to help shut it back down.”

“And you heard what I said about the wind and cold being too much, even for us Rito, right?” When Link didn’t respond, Teba nodded. “All right then. Not sure what you’re going to be able to do, but I learned my lesson about ignoring your offers for help last time.”

Link gave him a grateful smile, recalling their first encounter, when Rito Village had been terrorized by the Divine Beast. Teba had shown no interest in accepting Link’s offer for help, preferring to gather information about the Divine Beasts and handle things on his own.

“But how did you plan on getting out there? The roads are impassable out near the mountain. The snow’s too deep, and the threat of avalanches is significant.”

“I… I don’t know. I only just got here last night—I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.”

Teba’s beak clicked a few times. “Then I guess it’ll be up to me again. Dammit, Link, it’s already difficult enough to fly—do you know how much harder it will be with you on my back?”

“Wait, really?” Penn asked, surprised. “You can actually fly with him on your back?”

Teba ignored the other Rito, eyes remaining on Link. “I think I can manage it, if you leave behind some of your extra gear and if we take a break on the north spire. It’s not going to be an easy flight, though.”

“I guess I’ll pack light,” Link said, grinning.

Teba snorted. “Well, come on. Let’s get over to the village. If we’re going to fly all the way out to the mountains, we’re going to get started up near my hut.”

It was a relief when Link’s boots finally settled onto the wooden planks of the walkway that spiraled all the way up to the top of Rito Village. The relatively short flight across the broken bridge hadn’t been easy, and Link had trudged through snow the rest of the way across the three adjoining islands and to the central spire of Rito Village, itself. Link worried about how challenging it had seemed to Teba to get him across the gap, however. There were a number of factors at play—the wind direction, the difference in elevation between the two islands, and the fact that he’d just flown all the way down from the spire to meet Link—but it was clearly harder to fly now than it normally was. Could Teba actually fly him all the way to the Hebra Mountains?

Thankfully, the bridges connecting the three adjoining islands and Rito Village were intact, albeit covered in snow and ice. While they creaked ominously, and Link feared a sudden drop followed by an icy plunge, they held as he made his way across the frozen river and up to the Rito town.

Rito Village was a bit of a misnomer. If one heard that name and had never been there, one might have considered a quaint little place—a small town or hamlet where a handful of Rito lived and worked. They wouldn’t have expected the enormous rocky spire that jutted up out of the lake, crisscrossed with spiraling walkways, with hundreds of small, round, open-sided structures in the style preferred by the Rito for their homes and shops.

Everything here was made of wood. The Rito did not mine or shape stone, instead relying on the plentiful forests surrounding the lake to form the literal foundations of their society. Once, there had been a sizeable Hylian village where the Lucky Clover Gazette now sat, full of woodcutters and carpenters, forming something of a symbiotic relationship with the Rito. The Hylians provided the wood for the Rito society, and the Rito gave them safe harbor, free of worries about roaming Guardians, Calamity Ganon, or its bands of monsters that roamed the land.

That had changed after the Calamity ended. Most of the Hylians that had spent their entire lives hearing stories of how terrible it was in other regions had wanted to see what the world had to offer, now that it was safe. They, like many Hylians at the outskirts of the land, had wanted to press inland, reclaiming the fertile lands in the center.

That had led to a number of tense moments with the Rito, who had relied on Hylians for much of their manual labor for a century. Thankfully, Link and Zelda—mostly Zelda—had been able to work with the disparate groups to find an accord, and last Link knew, Hudson was considering establishing a western branch of his growing construction business out this way.

Looking at the town now, Link thought that Hudson might need to move his plans up, as Rito Village had clearly seen better days.

On the side facing the storm, roofs had caved in, portions of the walkways had collapsed, and even some entire buildings had broken free of their supports, crashing down below and further damaging anything beneath them. The side shielded by the central spire had fared better, but even here, Link still saw signs of the damage caused by so much snow falling so quickly.

“I don’t think Purah had any idea it had gotten this bad,” Link said as he carefully picked his way past a broken section of walkway.

“I don’t doubt it,” Teba said, waiting for Link to get across. “It all happened fast—practically overnight.” He met Link’s eyes, and Link saw in them the same suspicion that he felt, himself.

Rito Village had weathered hundreds of winters in the past. While Link knew there would always be some repairs needed after a bad blizzard or windstorm, this felt targeted. Intentional. It made him think of the ways the Yiga Clan had enacted plans to weaken the Zora and the Gerudo when the Divine Beasts raged during the Calamity.

No one had seen any sign of the Yiga for years—a fact that never sat well with Link. The Gerudo had spent the years following the Calamity trying to root out hidden cells, enacting their vengeance for the destruction caused by the Yiga’s plots. They’d had some limited success in the couple years immediately following the Calamity, but the Yiga had since disappeared. There hadn’t been any sign of them for over two years.

“We haven’t found anything to indicate any supports or ropes were intentionally broken,” Teba said.

The Rito’s words drew him back out of his thoughts. Link’s face relaxed—he’d begun to scowl—and he unclenched his hands.

“So you don’t think it was sabotage?”

Teba turned his gaze towards the storm. “I didn’t say that.”

“Link!”

Link looked around to see a young Rito girl half-running, half-gliding down the walkway ahead of them. She flapped her wings and lifted off the ground, clearing the last section before dropping back down to the ground in front of Link. Before Link could respond, the girl had thrown her wings around him, embracing him tightly, her head against his chest.

“Hey, Kheel,” Link said, patting the young Rito’s head. “How are you and your sisters doing?”

Kheel looked up at him, blue eyes wide and bright, and spoke in a high-pitched, nearly shrill voice. “It’s about time you got over here, you know!”

“So I’ve been told.” He glanced over at Teba, smiling faintly.

The Rito youth released him, stepping back, looking between Link and Teba. “Oh! Hi, Teba. I think Tulin was looking for you.”

Teba merely grunted, folding his wings over his chest. He looked irritated for some reason, and Link wasn’t sure why.

Kheel turned her attention back to Link. She was a young Rito girl adorned with vibrant purple feathers and a black-tipped beak. He had known her since she was little more than a chick, having barely grown into her wings and still bearing plenty of down feathers. It still stunned him how much she and her older sisters had grown in the last six years.

“And we’re doing okay! Mama’s helping out at the mountains, so Notts’ in charge.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Detta’s keeping her real busy, though. She’s been whining nonstop since Mama left.”

Notts. Kotts. Genli. Cree. Kheel. Detta. Six Rito children that Link knew from his travels during the Calamity, or in Detta’s case, the years since. They were the daughters of one of Link’s closest friends and allies—and that thought still caused him a spike of concern and pain, which he did his best to ignore.

“Hopefully she’s not being too much of a handful,” Link said.

Kheel shrugged. “She can’t really fly that well yet, so she’s not too bad. I bet you that, if she could, she would have tried to fly after Mama, though. She’s been hanging onto her tail feathers ever since Papa left.”

And there it was. Kass. The Rito bard had helped Link immensely during the months after he woke, providing a source of companionship and comfort in the worst times. He was an eternal optimist, and his efforts hadn’t only helped Link in his darkest moments, but he had a direct hand in bringing all of the races of Hyrule together for the final conflict as well.

Kass was a hero, known throughout Hyrule for his travels, spreading tales of Link and Zelda’s successes, and inspiring many other musicians to begin their own journeys. He’d been the natural choice to travel beyond Hyrule’s borders to find enclaves of people whose ancestors had fled Hyrule during the Calamity.

Link just wished he knew what had happened to him since.

Teba cleared his throat. “Let’s keep moving. We can all catch up while we walk.”

“Oh, yeah, I want to know what’s been happening! I heard you went missing, but obviously that wasn’t true because you’re here now, and what are those floating islands, anyway?”

Link smiled as the words spilled out of Kheel’s beak as they continued their walk to the upper levels of Rito Village. It wasn’t easy to get a word in edgewise, but it was comforting to hear that she and her sisters, along with their mother, were doing well, despite the storm. Link would have never forgiven himself if something had happened to them while Kass was away.

Along the way, Link saw other Rito, but far fewer than normal. Notts and Kotts, the two eldest daughters, were in a hut sheltered from the worst of the wind, surrounded by quite a few Rito children, some of whom looked to have been barely hatched, as well as their youngest sister, Detta, who was covered in blue feathers very similar in shade to her father’s.

Genli was in a nearby hut, minding three massive stew pots and humming a song to herself that Link didn’t recognize. He didn’t see Cree, but Kheel informed him that she was probably down at the base of the spire, gathering up wood from the damaged sections of the village for fires.

He saw other children and youths around, as well as some of the eldest among the Rito, but very few of the stronger adults. Teba explained that every able-bodied Rito was hunting for food, skirmishing with monsters that flourished in the cold, such as wolfos, freezards, or certain breeds of lizalfos, or trying to find answers about the storm. Even Teba was only back to check on things before he would leave again to join the other adults.

They left Kheel behind, as she had her own responsibilities that Notts pointedly reminded her about, and as they rounded the spire once more, Link was hit by a gust of frigid wind that cut through his cloak and sent his hood back off his head. He hissed softly, pulling the cloak more tightly around him. “Teba, are you sure you can fly in this?”

Teba looked down at him, his expression stoic. “Of course I can. I’ve already made the flight plenty of times.”

“But with me on your back?”

The Rito hesitated only a moment before giving him a curt nod. “I’ll be fine.”

Link hoped he was right. He didn’t enjoy the idea of plunging headfirst down into the frozen lake below. “Have I ever told you that I’m not really a big fan of the cold?”

Teba snorted. “You just need to grow some feathers.”

Link smiled. “Good idea. Maybe I’ll—”

“Hey, Dad!” A voice cut through the wind, and both Link and Teba looked up to see an adolescent Rito flying above them. As Link watched, a gust struck him again, causing his cloak to flap in the wind, and he had a sudden fear that the Rito youth would be blown into the side of the spire. Amazingly, the Rito boy barely seemed phased by the wind. He merely banked into the wind, offsetting the gust exactly enough to stay on his chosen trajectory, as if the gust had been nothing but a breeze.

Link had seen Teba pull a similar move off earlier, but even to Link’s untrained eyes, he could tell that this younger Rito managed it with far more grace and stability than the elder. And then the youth’s words registered with him.

“Wait, is that Tulin?”

Teba growled softly. “Yes. That damn boy is going to get himself blown out of the sky. Tulin! Come down here!”

The young Rito folded his wings to his body and dropped like a stone. Right before he rammed into the walkway, his wings flared open once again, and he landed on his feet, sending up a small plume of snow and ice.

When he stood upright, his eyes went immediately to Link. “Link! Skies, you’re here!” He laughed and threw his wings around Link’s torso, squeezing him tightly.

He hugged the younger Rito in return, though his mind still struggled to understand how this Rito, who was nearly as tall as Link himself, and covered with sleek, white, and grey feathers, could be the down-covered child he’d gotten used to seeing when visiting Teba. Tulin had been growing taller and stronger, of course, and had gotten his first flight feathers a few years prior, but this youth seemed far older than Tulin could ever be.

“Tulin, you got big over the winter!” he said, looking Tulin over when the Rito pulled back from him.

Despite his growth, Tulin still bore a youthful appearance, especially around his face. His bright blue eyes shone with excitement, and his short blue-grey beak was open in what passed for a Rito grin. He had a crest of feathers on his head that he’d tied back in a tail, save for several feathers that stuck up in a spike-like pattern that he’d had as long as Link had known him.

It truly stunned Link to see him looking so much taller and stronger. His wings were wide, tipped with grey feathers reminiscent of his father’s, and his three-toed feet ended in sharp talons that Link knew all too well could do some real damage to an opponent.

Tulin beamed. “I hit a growth spurt. I’m fully-fledged now!”

Teba grunted next to him. “Not quite.”

Tulin turned towards Teba. “Do you see any down feathers on me anymore? I’m the strongest flyer in Rito Village—you said so yourself!”

“I said you had the makings to be the strongest—and I didn’t tell you that to puff you up. You’ve got to learn when it’s time to fly out front and when you’re better served in a formation. Without that—”

“Without that, I’ll always be flying into a headwind,” Tulin finished, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made him look a lot like his father. “I know, Dad.”

Teba harumphed, eyes narrowing. “Speaking of flying, why are you still here? I thought you were supposed to meet up with Gesane and Laissa to scout out some of the caves near the peak.”

Tulin’s eyes hardened. “I don’t need egg-sitters.”

“They aren’t—” The elder Rito reached up with one wing, rubbing his forehead. “I need all three of you to work together. You know the mountain is dangerous! I assigned you with them so you can provide them overwatch—neither of them can fly well near the storm.”

“Well, what about Mazli? He’s not a bad flier.” When Teba opened his beak to retort, his son quickly pressed on. “Someone has to get closer to the storm to try to see what’s inside. You know I’m the best one to do it!”

“Tulin!” Teba’s voice cracked like a whip, and Tulin’s beak clicked shut, though his eyes blazed with indignation, which was only matched by the anger in his father’s fierce stare.

“Either you follow orders, or you stay here. If you’re going to behave like a hatchling, then I’m going to treat you like one.”

Tulin remained silent, but he averted his eyes, glaring instead at the ground, feathers around his neck bristling.

“Is that understood?”

Tulin didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“Good. Now go. Gesane and Laissa have probably already set out.”

Before the older Rito finished talking, Tulin had turned, thrown open his wings, and shot into the air like a bolt loosed from a crossbow. A cloud of snow shot up in his wake, briefly forming a swirling column before dispersing, making Link wave his hand before his face to clear the air. He watched, amazed, as Tulin quickly gained altitude before turning and flying quickly towards the distant mountains.

“Damn fledgling,” Teba muttered, eyes on his retreating son.

Link glanced at Teba. “I… I haven’t seen another Rito take off like that since…”

“I know. He’s a cut above the rest of us. Our best flier, by far, and possibly our best archer, too. The problem is that he’s headstrong. He’s going to get himself hurt if he’s not more careful.”

Link raised one eyebrow as he looked at the tall Rito. “That sounds like someone else I know…”

Teba shot him a withering look. “Shut it, or you’re walking to the mountains.”

One corner of Link’s mouth lifted. “What? I was talking about Revali. Who did you think I was talking about?”

Teba grunted and turned away from him, stalking further up towards his hut. “Come on. Saki’s getting supplies ready to go. With you hanging off my tailfeathers, we’re going to have to redistribute some of the load.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve: Crosswinds

Link checked the straps on the bag on his back to ensure it was tight. The supplies he brought were limited—with the wind, the flight on Teba's back would be difficult enough without added weight, though the Rito said the wind would favor their flight the closer they got to the other side of Lake Totori and the heart of the storm.

He wished he knew something of what he was supposed to be doing. Link had no plan, no real ideas, beyond the certainty that he needed to get into that storm. Something inhabited its heart, and he needed to find out what, whether it was Vah Medoh or something else entirely. He just had no idea how to get there.

I've been here before, he reminded himself. There were plenty of times that I didn't know how I was going to proceed. One step at a time. There is always the chance that the next moment will change everything.

The thought made his heart ache. Where was Zelda now? Was she okay? Was she even alive? His certainty of her survival had waned over the last week, despite what he'd told the others. What if the woman he'd seen in their home had merely been a spirit's apparition? What if his hopes were in vain?

But where else should I be? Even if she is gone, I could never abandon the Rito without at least trying to help. Zelda wouldn't want that.

The thought didn't bring him peace, but it did reinforce his determination. He tried to set aside his fears about Zelda. There was so much that he didn't know, but at the very least, he could be confident that this was the place he needed to be right now.

"Are you ready?" Teba asked, looking back at Link. He stood near the edge of the launch pad at the top of Rito Village. He had a pair of goggles over his eyes, and Link had been given a similar set—the snow would be hard enough to see through without having it blow right into their eyes.

Link nodded. He had his heavy Rito-made cloak on, cinched around the waist to keep it from flapping in the wind, and his backpack laden with dried meat, coiled rope, and two dozen arrows that he hadn't wanted to keep in their quiver lest they tumble out during the flight. He left behind his bedroll, most of his travel rations, his cooking supplies, and anything else not strictly necessary.

Teba nodded and then looked to the side, where his wife, Saki, a bright pink-feathered Rito, stood. She, too, wore a heavy-looking bag and wore goggles. She carried the supplies she and Teba had returned to Rito Village to retrieve.

"I'm ready," she said, spreading her wings and rolling her shoulders.

"Then let's fly." Teba bent down and Link climbed onto his back awkwardly. The Rito grunted and shifted. "Have you gotten heavier, or have I just gotten older?"

Link chuckled. "Maybe six years of peace have just been good to us."

"Right."

Teba spread his wings and leaped off the edge of the platform. For a moment, Link felt weightless, his stomach turning over as he and the Rito dropped into a dive before leveling out as Teba began flapping his wings.

Link released his held breath. He'd flown on the back of Rito a handful of times in his life now, and it was always a harrowing experience, especially during that initial drop. Teba was a strong flier among the Rito, but few could just fly straight up from a grounded position. In fact, in Link's life, he'd only known a single Rito capable of that feat—until he saw Tulin today.

"So when did Tulin become such a strong flier?" Link asked, voice raised to be heard over the rushing wind of their passage.

Teba glanced back at him. "He's always been strong among his peers, and he pushes himself hard to improve. But he really started to take off about a year ago, after he had his first molt. Ever since then, his beak has been pointed skyward."

"It's impressive. Have there been any other Rito besides Revali with that ability?"

"None that I know of."

It wasn't just flying straight up. It was the way that the wind itself seemed to propel Revali and now Tulin into the air. Revali had called it his special Updraft, and it was exactly that—a burst of powerful air from beneath his feet to help fling him into the sky. Somehow, he had been able to shape the wind, and Link had never known how.

Link knew that Revali had developed the skill at a young age but had spent years perfecting it. That Tulin could already use a similar ability and with such skill was nothing less than incredible.

"You don't seem very enthused by it."

Teba was quiet for several seconds—long enough that Link began to wonder if he'd even heard him. Finally, he spoke. "That ability didn't save Revali in the end."

Link opened his mouth but found that he didn't know how to respond to that. Of course, Teba would be worried for his son. Revali, for all his skill and renown, had died alone.

"Yeah."

A strong crosswind blew across them, and Link tightened his grip as the Rito banked into the wind. Teba grunted, flapping hard, and turned just slightly into it. "Get low!" Teba barked as he fought against the wind gust.

Link obeyed, trying to flatten himself as much as possible on Teba's back. The position felt incredibly insecure, and he worried one good gust would send them both into a tailspin down onto the frozen lake. After a couple of tense minutes, however, the wind died back down and Teba leveled out.

Saki drew closer, looking concerned. Some of the curled feathers on her crest were askew. "Teba! Are you all right?"

"I'm all right. It was a strong one, but nothing I can't handle."

"You're sure?"

Teba looked over at his wife and moved close enough to her that their outstretched wingtips could brush. "I'll be fine. Just got a little distracted."

After that, their flight grew quiet. The wind gusted frequently, requiring Teba and Saki to make rapid adjustments, and Link could see the way it tired them. By the time, the rocky island that Teba called the northern spire came into view, appearing like a wraith out of the blizzard, Teba's altitude had dropped, and he had to flap hard to get back to the right elevation.

As soon as they touched down on the snow-covered peak, Link rolled off of Teba's back, stretching his own tight muscles. The Rito rolled his shoulders and flexed his wings before turning and searching the sky for Saki. She appeared a moment later, angling towards the spire from the west—it appeared she had overshot it slightly.

As she neared, a sudden gust blew from behind her, and she appeared to lose control, her back legs lifting above her wings. For a brief, heart-stopping second, Link thought she would end up somersaulting in the air, but she managed to mostly correct herself in time. She was still flying towards the island too fast, however. Link saw the way her eyes had grown wide behind her goggles.

Teba, however, was ready.

As Saki flew closer, Teba leaped at her, pinning her wings down by encircling her with his own, and together they both fell onto the thick layer of snow. They rolled several feet before each settling onto their backs, chests rising and falling heavily.

"Are you two all right?" Link asked, hurrying over to them, fearful of what a broken wing could mean out here. When he got to them, however, he found them both shaking with laughter.

"Oh, it makes me think when we were fledglings!" Saki said, rolling onto her side and looking at Teba. "Do you remember that one time at the Flight Range?"

"Don't remind me," Teba said, his voice jovial, despite his words.

"You were so cute, the way you were trying to impress me with your dance moves—until you collided with me and sprained my wing."

"And yet here we are," said Teba, rolling onto his side to face her.

Saki leaned in, touching her beak to Teba's. "And yet we are."

The two Rito remained like that for several moments—long enough that Link began to feel awkward and looked away. Seeing their affection for each other made him miss Zelda even more.

When he looked back, the two Rito had risen to their feet and were patting the snow off of each other's backs and tail feathers. Both of them seemed to be unhurt by the collision, though both were clearly winded from the hard flight.

"How much further do we have to go before we reach the other side?" Link asked as they settled down to rest sometime later. The Rito had built a wooden gazebo here on the island, with hanging curtains that could be tied down to block the wind and braziers that, thankfully, had fuel stockpiled for use.

"We're about halfway to the other side, and about a third of the way before we reach the basecamp at the Trailhead Lodge," Teba said, the back of his head against the wall. Saki was next to him, her head on his shoulder, dozing.

"Will we fly all the way there?"

Teba grunted. "I'd like to, but I'm not sure if we'll be able to manage it. We're already going to have to gain some altitude before we reach the other side, unless you feel like climbing a frozen rockface."

"Well, you know how I love climbing," Link said dryly.

"I don't. Regardless, the land is mostly flat up until the lodge, and the winds should be a little more favorable, so we'll see. Right now, I just want to make sure we can get through this next leg of the flight. The visibility is going to get even worse."

"Are you sure we'll be able to make it?"

Teba remained silent for a second, his cheek resting on Saki's head. "We'll get there. We'll rest here for a couple hours and then get back to it. Even if we have to walk the last few miles, we should still be able to reach the lodge by nightfall."

Link nodded and leaned his head back against the wooden post he was sitting against. His eyes fell on the burning brazier near him, watching as the logs within burned and cracked, the smoke rising to the opening in the ceiling.

He hoped that, wherever Zelda was, she was doing better than he was.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"So when did you know?"

Link looked over at Zelda, brow furrowed. "Know what?"

"When you… loved me." She smiled at him, cheeks flushed. "You remember, right?"

Hateno Village was in an uproar. The celebration had been going on well into the night. The last of the Goron fireworks, leftover from the celebrations following the Battle of Hateno, had been expended. Light blue banners, the exact same shade as Link's Champions tunic, had been hung from every doorway and window, as well as stretching across the main thoroughfare.

Link had no idea when those had been made. He suspected that it might have been following the battle at Hateno. Sayge must have gotten started on them basically as soon as the battle was over in preparation for the celebration following Calamity Ganon's defeat.

Music and raucous laughter permeated the air. Children ran and screamed in delight. The rains that Link had ridden through on the way to Mount Lanayru had washed away the bloodstains, and new constructions had been built where homes and shops had burned.

He and Zelda were sitting atop the roof of his house. Their house, he supposed. He had, after all, asked her to marry him only hours before. And she had, after all, said yes. They'd come up here to watch the fireworks, and now they sat up here to be alone and enjoy the warm, summer night. Stars overhead shone, surrounding a smattering of clouds and a half-moon.

He still remembered that moment. That moment when he looked up and saw the full moon, red as blood, and believed he would fail to save the village. He doubted he would ever forget that chilling sight. That horrifying realization.

"Link?"

He looked at her, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry."

Zelda tilted her head, curious. Her hair was loose, and she wore a simple shirt and trousers—she had scoffed at the idea of wearing a dress for the celebration, and he loved her for it.

How could she look so perfect after everything she'd been through? He was covered in scars—on his arms, his legs, his hands, his chest, his back—and she was pristine. After everything she'd been through, it felt as though she should have been as scarred as he, though he supposed her scars were more internal.

"I… It's hard to say, if I'm being honest," he said. "There's the first time I admitted it to myself, fully, but then there were the weeks before that when I was trying to pretend otherwise."

"Well… Tell me." She poked him in the ribs. "I want to know."

He considered quietly for a time. "Well… I guess it was around the time we went to the Spring of Power."

"I thought so," Zelda said, nodding sagely.

"Oh, you did, did you?" He raised one eyebrow, looking at her with a grin. "You knew that, even back then?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, of course not. But I knew there was… something happening, between us. Despite the fact that we truly only knew each other for a short time, already I was closer to you than anyone else, other than Urbosa."

Link reached over, interlacing their fingers, and brought the back of her hand to his lips. "So… when did you know?" he said, between soft kisses on her hand.

Zelda let out a soft laugh. "Well, it was mostly Urbosa's fault. Do you… remember when we went to the coliseum? After the Spring of Courage?"

"Of course."

"Well, Urbosa and I were talking while we were there, and I was telling her how we'd been doing, and she looked at me, smiling in that way she always did." Zelda shook her head. "And then she said, 'Careful, Little Bird. Keep this up and you're going to fall in love with him.'"

"That early?" Link asked, shocked.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't say that. Urbosa was just teasing me at the time—you know how she liked to do that—but it did get me thinking about it." Zelda looked down at their hands, still interlocked, resting in her lap. "And then, somewhere along the way, before we even got to the Spring of Power, I knew, though I tried to silence such thoughts for a time."

"Couldn't bear the thought of falling for a country rube like me?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "No. I was just trying to keep my mind focused on the task at hand. I felt I had no time for romance."

"I just kept telling myself how inappropriate it was for me, the princess's knight, to be thinking of his charge in that way."

Zelda looked at him incredulously. "Link, do you know just how many stories there are of knights in brilliant armor sweeping princesses off their feet?"

He laughed. "Bard's tales! I never considered them to be all that truthful."

"Well, at least this one is." She leaned her head to the side, resting it on his shoulder to watch the celebrations.

Link basked in the feeling of warmth and comfort her words created in him. The journey had been so very hard and arduous. A century had passed since the memories they spoke of, and the challenges they had faced could have overwhelmed them at any point.

But they hadn't, and now it was, finally, over. He had Zelda again, and she had him. They could finally be at peace.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Link still remembered that night so clearly in his mind. So much of that day had faded with time—how was it that so much could even happen in a single day?—but that memory still stood out starkly in his mind. The hope they'd had for a future not dominated by monsters and fear of failure.

"And where did that get us?" he muttered.

"What's that?" Teba asked, looking back over his shoulder at Link. They were flying again, proceeding onto their second and longer leg of the trip.

"It's nothing."

Link had his paraglider strapped to his belt, just in case. Teba had suggested he keep it close, just in case anything happened. While the winds should favor them the closer they got to the other side as they spiraled around the storm, gusts could also still be unpredictable.

He could tell that the Rito was tired. The couple of hours they had to rest had helped, but it hadn't been nearly enough. Link had offered to remain behind at the way stop to give Teba time to go on ahead to round up some other strong fliers that could carry him, but Teba had flatly refused. None of them would have an easier time of it, and he wouldn't make others do what he would not.

Link admired him for that, even if he felt a twinge of apprehension while watching the lake pass by beneath their feet. Saki had flown on ahead, less burdened, even with the heavier pack, than Teba. She planned on trying to gather other Rito that might be able to save either of them, should they fall along the way.

"How are you doing, Teba?" Link asked, after several more minutes of silence. The island they'd rested on had long since disappeared into the haze of snow behind them.

Teba grunted. "I'm fine." After a couple of seconds, he added, "The winds are getting better."

"So we're going to make it?" He smiled when the Rito looked back at him, looking annoyed.

"At least one of us will," Teba said, before looking forward again.

They both grew silent again, with the only sound being that of Teba's flapping wings, the gusting wind, and the occasional peal of thunder. Occasionally, the wind would gust hard enough to disrupt Teba's flight, forcing him flap hard to regain control, and during those moments, Link gripped his folded paraglider tightly, ready to deploy it if Teba told him to.

That didn't happen, however, and as the grey-white sky overhead gradually turned darker, Teba finally said, "I see the other side. Almost there." He began to flap harder, picking up speed and altitude.

Link strained to see through the snow, wiping his goggles with his gloved fingers. However, he didn't see the rocky wall of the basin's outer edge until they were much closer—and he saw it directly in front of them.

Link sat up sharply, and the motion seemed to disturb Teba's flight and the Rito faltered. Link's stomach dropped as he felt them dip even lower. "Teba!"

"Shut your beak!" the Rito said, flapping hard.

"The wall!"

"You think I don't see it!?"

Link gritted his teeth, watching as the wall of the basin expanded in his vision. Why wasn't Teba climbing?

"Teba! I'll use the—"

"Just hold on, dammit!"

Link held on.

Teba flapped his wings harder, grunting with exertion, and only seemed to speed up as they rocketed towards the rock. Link leaned lower, gripping tightly with his legs, readying himself to leap off, despite Teba's words.

However, just moments before they would have collided with the rock, a sudden gust of wind blew up from beneath them. Teba gasped and angled up, forcing Link to throw his hands around the Rito's neck as they were suddenly flying nearly vertically.

Despite their climb, they still got alarmingly close to the wall. Teba grunted and growled with every flap of his wings, and soon Link saw the crest of the basin's edge in view above them.

"Come on!" Teba yelled, giving his wings one final flap. Link felt a jolt as Teba's talons scraped the rocky wall, and for a moment, the Rito began running up it, wings still outstretched. And then they were clear.

Teba released a cry of relief and banked sharply enough to the side to break Link's grip and send him plummeting to the ground. He hit the snow and rolled to a stop. The snow was soft and powdery, and though he was definitely shocked by the sudden drop, Link wasn't hurt.

He looked up to see Teba hit the snow as well. The Rito tried to land on his feet but failed to do so and ended up sprawled out in the snow.

"Teba!" Link cried, jumping to his feet and hurrying the short distance to his friend.

By the time he reached him, Teba had rolled onto his back, groaning. He held a wing out, and Link took it, pulling him up to a seated position. The Rito's goggles were askew, and his feathers were coated in snow and ice particles.

Link crouched, looking at him with concern. "Are you all right?"

Teba didn't respond for a few seconds, but he spread his wings, giving them a shake to knock some of the snow free, and then dropped them back down to his sides again. Finally, he nodded. "I'm all right. Might have strained some muscles in my wings, though. Not going to be flying anymore today."

Link grimaced, not looking forward to the trek through the heavy snow in the direction of the Rito basecamp but said nothing. "Well, good job getting us here. I know it wasn't an easy flight."

Teba didn't respond. He just sat there for the next couple of minutes, breathing heavily, steam pluming out from his beak and rising from his bare wings and legs. In the meantime, Link began taking stock of his things, making sure that nothing got lost during the flight or the subsequent crash.

"Here, help me up. We need to get moving," Teba eventually said, holding his wing out. Link did so, pulling the Rito to his feet and helping him brush some more of the snow off his back.

Together, they set out. Teba, like all Rito, had an innate sense of direction, so Link let him take the lead. The snow was much thicker here than it had been near Rito Village, and the wind was certainly stronger as well.

Link looked up. The storm loomed large overhead, lightning flashing in its midst. And within the storm's center, illuminated by the lightning, he saw the massive shape within.

It did not look like Divine Beast Vah Medoh.

Teba and Link walked for about an hour before Saki's search party found them. Link didn't see or hear them coming until a dark-feathered shape landed in the snow directly in front of them, startling him.

Link's sword was already in his hand before he realized he wasn't looking at the shape of a previously camouflaged lizalfo but instead was looking at a tall Rito with black and blue feathers.

"Harth," Teba muttered, sounding exhausted.

Two more Rito landed to either side of them. Saki was at Teba's side a second later, getting under her husband's wing and wrapping her own wing around his waist. The other was a female Rito with green feathering and a black-tipped beak.

"Amali," Link said, smiling at her.

Link knew both Harth and Amali well, having met both of them when fighting the Calamity six years prior. Amali was Kass' wife and the mother of the six Rito children from the village, while Harth was the Rito blacksmith and fletcher, as well as Molli's father.

"Link!" Amali said, smiling at him and reaching out to take the backpack from his back. "It's so good to see you. How are my daughters doing?"

"They're all doing great." Link sheathed his sword and gladly handed the bag over, stretching his shoulders once they were free. "I saw them back in the village. How are things here?"

"Had to fight off a pack of wolfos," Harth said, stepping up to them. "We would have been here sooner, but the bastards tried ambushing us at the lodge."

Teba looked around at him sharply. "What happened. Is everyone all right?"

Harth waved his wing. "We're fine. Tulin caught sight of them just in time and sounded the alarm. We drove them off, and I sent a couple of scouts to follow them to see if we can figure out where they're holing up at."

Teba frowned. "What's Tulin doing at the lodge? I sent him to link up with Gesane and Laissa."

Saki made an impatient sound. "Teba. It's nearly nightfall—the three of them returned more than two hours ago!"

Teba grunted. "Good point. I'd lost track of the time."

"It's hard to tell with all the snow and clouds," Amali said.

Harth cleared his throat. "Tulin did well. I watched him put an arrow right through the alpha's eye. And his early warning might very well have saved a life or two. It was a decent-sized pack."

Teba didn't respond, but Link saw a flicker of what must have been pride pass over his face. "I'm surprised he didn't want to come out with you to find us."

"Oh, he did," Harth said, chuckling. "But I told him to stay put and make sure those wolfos don't try anything like that again."

"Good."

"Can we get going?" Saki said. "I want to be back at the lodge before it's completely dark."

Harth nodded, looking over at Amali. "Why don't you fly ahead to make sure those lizalfos we spotted aren't going to try anything. I'll circle overhead, and Saki will help the village elder here."

"Careful," Teba said. "Or the next one getting an arrow through the eye will be you."

Harth laughed, and together, he and Amali took off running, each flapping their wings until they managed to get back up off the ground. Link watched them go, reminded again of the way Tulin had seemingly mastered the ability to take off vertically from a standstill.

"You're sure you're all right?" Saki asked as they began walking again.

Teba glanced at her. "I'm all right. Just worn out. It was a hard flight."

The three made their way through the snow in the direction the other two Rito had flown. Occasionally, Harth would fly low enough to call out good-natured barbs directed at Teba. Whatever lizalfos he had seen while flying out to find them had apparently moved on or were hidden well enough to avoid detection.

Link kept his sword at the ready and his shield on his arm, just in case. He'd been caught unawares by ambushing lizalfos too many times in his life to trust Harth's word alone. The lizard monsters were notoriously good at camouflage.

Eventually, as the sky grew darker, two pinpricks of orange light appeared in the distance. "Almost there," Teba said. He no longer leaned on his wife, but Link could tell from the set of his shoulders that he was exhausted. Their flight had taken far more out of him than either of them had expected.

Thunder rolled, echoing strangely as they neared the mountains, and lightning briefly caused the white snow to glow brightly. Link looked up again, as he'd grown accustomed to doing when lightning illuminated the center of the storm.

Again, he saw the structure within. It had to be as large as Medoh, though at this distance, scale was impossible to truly judge. Its shape, however, was much boxier than the bird-like Divine Beast, and Link found himself increasingly certain that whatever was causing this storm wasn't Vah Medoh at all.

"What do you think it is? That thing up there doesn't look like Medoh at all," Link said, eyes on the now-opaque column of clouds and snow.

Teba frowned, glancing to the side at Saki before answering. "We don't know. I figure it's probably just another of those floating islands—it appeared at the same time the rest of them did."

"But you think it's the cause of the storm."

"I don't see what else it could be doing."

Saki cleared her throat. "There is a thought among some of the Rito, though. A legend that's been around for as long as anyone knows."

Teba snorted. "The Stormwind Ark fixed the weather in the legend, not caused it."

"Well, maybe we're wrong about what's causing the storm," Saki said, looking somewhat defiantly at her husband. "You can't deny what it looks like."

"I'm not denying anything," Teba said. "I'm just not putting any stock in an old hatchling's story."

Link frowned, looking between them. "So… can someone fill in the clueless Hylian here?"

Teba looked a bit annoyed, but Saki gave Link a smile and began to sing in a soft, quavering voice.

"One, a god fell from heaven, stilling the Hebra winds.

The heavens grew lifeless, just as the air below thinned.

With the world in upheaval, we pledged to help the lord.

A line of ships soaring, built as a passage skyward.

The god ascended to heaven, leaving behind an ark.

Its winds brought us new life, thanks to its great, divine spark."

Link could see why Teba called it a hatchling's song. The song was simple in its composition, repeating the same melody from one half of the tune to the other, and it was short, ending abruptly.

"Is that all there is?" Link asked, understanding Teba's skepticism. He wouldn't put much stock in an old nursery rhyme, either.

"There's a legend to go along with it," Teba said. "Not sure which inspired the other, but they've both been around for a long time."

"What's the legend?"

Teba grunted. "It's just like the song. A long time ago, some kind of god fell from the sky and caused the winds to stop, whatever that means."

Saki nudged Teba. "The god didn't cause the winds to stop. The winds stopped first, and when the Rito looked up, they saw the god descending from the sky."

"You just sang a song that said the god stilled the winds," Teba said.

"I know! That's the song. But the actual story is a little different—at least, that's how it was taught to me when I was younger."

Teba sighed, looking down at Link with an irritated expression. "Fine. The god came down at the same time the winds stopped. They weren't related in any way."

"Teba," Saki said, laughing.

Teba smiled back at her before continuing. "This supposed god couldn't get back up to the heavens, so the Rito at that time helped build him a ship that could fly through the skies."

"After they tried to fly up to the heavens, themselves," Saki added.

"Right. After that. The god and the Rito worked together to start gathering the materials and building the ship."

"Ships," Saki said. "There were more than one."

"Can I finish the story?"

"Only if you tell it right, darling."

Link smiled as the two bantered but again felt that pang of loss. I'll find you, Zelda, he thought. I swear I will.

"Fine. Ships. They built the god ships, and he used his powers to make the ships fly. Together, they rode them up to the heavens, where the Rito saw islands floating in the sky that they had never seen before."

"Islands in the sky?" Link asked.

"Yes. Don't interrupt me. Anyway, the Rito took the god back to his home and then left to go back to their home in Hebra, where there was still no wind and the earth had grown stagnant. Then, one day, the wind started blowing again, and the Rito looked up and saw a big ship called the Stormwind Ark. It had been sent down from the heavens, churning the air with its oars to make the wind blow again."

When Teba was finished with the story, he looked at Saki. "Well? Did I miss anything?"

Saki turned her beak up, not looking at him. "No, I think you got it all. Your delivery could use some work, though."

"Yeah," Link agreed, grinning. "I feel like Kass would have told that story a lot better."

Teba made a dismissive sound. "Well, that's the story. Big ship came down from the sky and caused the winds to start up again."

"But not like this?" Link asked, shivering as a strong gust got up underneath his heavy cloak.

"No. Not like this. But in the story, there were no winds, so maybe this is what happens when you have a ship that causes wind on top of other winds."

Link could hear Teba's skepticism, and he didn't fault the Rito for it. That certainly sounded like nothing more than an old legend, but Link himself was living proof that sometimes legends were real. Magic existed in Hyrule, and this story wouldn't even be the most outrageous story he'd ever been told.

Lightning flashed again, and he looked up, seeing the shape in the clouds once more. And he thought that, just maybe, he could see something of a ship's shape in the dark mass. One side did faintly appear to be tapered like a ship's bow, at least.

"It's just an old legend," Teba said. "I doubt there's any real truth to it."

"But there are the floating islands," Link said.

Teba shook his head. "Right. The floating islands that dotted the blue sky that the Rito were never able to see before." He gave Link a hard look, expression stern. "Here's the thing. I've flown those blue skies. When I was younger, I managed to get so high that the air became thin, and I could see the way the world curved across the sea. There was nothing above me except for the stars, so unless you're telling me that these islands used to be invisible, I don't see how anyone can claim they were always there."

Link frowned. "But something happened to make them appear. When I spoke to Rauru, he said that he thought the islands all used to be on the ground, and that their technology is making them fly. Maybe… maybe they could also conceal them somehow?"

Saki looked confused, frowning. "Who's Rauru?"

"It's some ghost that Link met, who told him Zelda traveled back in time and gave him his arm."

To demonstrate the point, Link lifted his left arm, pulling back the sleeve of his shirt enough to reveal the grey skin. Saki gasped—a reaction that Link was quickly growing accustomed to.

He launched into a short explanation of what had happened and what little he knew, but Link couldn't get the Rito's tale out of his mind. Was all of this caused by some kind of Zonai machine gone wrong, like the constructs that tried to kill him while on the island? He'd gone back and forth on assuming this was either the Divine Beast acting up or a plot by Ganondorf, but now Link considered a third option.

Was this all the Zonai's fault? What if everything the Rito had gone through these past weeks were caused by a lack of foresight by the ancient Zonai, or worse, was part of some long-incubating plot they put into motion eons ago? Was he wrong to place any faith in Rauru's words at all? Could he have lied?

It didn't sit right in Link's gut. Rauru had helped him, hadn't he? He'd saved Link's life, but was it not possible that even this was part of some kind of scheme that Link hadn't even begun to comprehend?

And what of Ganondorf? Could even that corpse been a ruse?

No, Link thought, frowning. I know that power, and so did the Master Sword. It was stronger, but still the same as the Calamity.

His worries still disturbed him, however. He hadn't questioned Rauru's sincerity or the truth to his words, but now Link felt that he needed to at least consider that possibility. If all of this was related to the Zonai, then could it be that it was all orchestrated by them?

It was a relief when the orange pinpricks of light grew into two massive bonfires, each sending tongues of flame, sparks, and smoke into the sky. Though Link couldn't make out the lodge past them due to the visibility, he knew they were close now.

Amali landed in front of them, and something in her expression sent a spike of alarm down Link's spine. "Teba! Tulin's gone."

Teba stiffened, standing upright and stepping forward, eyes alight with alarm. "What happened? Where is he?"

Amali clicked her beak together a couple of times. "We heard more howls, so Tulin and Gesane went scouting again. While they were flying, they were attacked by something in the air."

Saki gasped, stepping up to Teba's side and grabbing onto his wing. "Was Tulin hurt?"

"Tulin wasn't, but Gesane was. Mazli saw it happen from the ground—he said that a group of flying things with keese wings attacked them from above. Gesane was knocked out of the sky, but whatever they were didn't stick around. They flew back off towards the peaks when others took flight."

Amali met Teba's eyes, looking grim. "Tulin chased after them. Mazli tried to keep up, but he lost sight of them in the storm."

"I'm going after him," Teba said, stepping forward, shooing Saki away. However, when he spread his wings, he winced and grunted in pain, drawing his right wing back in closer to his body.

"Teba!" Saki said. "Your wing, are you—"

"Dammit! Must have pulled a muscle in our flight," Teba said, looking pained as he tried to flex his wing again. "Amali, where's Harth?"

"He's seeing to Gesane's injuries and making sure we're prepared for another attack."

Teba cursed and looked around, meeting Link's eyes and then settling his gaze on Saki, who looked terrified. Finally, his shoulders slumped. "Let's get to the lodge."

Saki stepped closer to him, again taking his wing in hers. "But Tulin—"

"I know. But I can't fly like this—not with the wind. We need to get to the lodge and take stock of the situation. Tulin's a smart boy—he's likely just scouting out whatever nest these monsters have and then will be back."

Despite his confident words, Link thought he heard the worry cutting through Teba's tone. Overhead, the grey clouds had turned a deep, indigo blue as the sun set fully. The snow continued to fall as heavily as it had been all day, and if anything, even more quickly. The wind gusted, sending his cloak flapping. Link's face had long since stopped stinging—now it was just numb.

"He'll be back, Saki," Teba said, holding her close. "He knows the way."

Link just hoped Teba was right.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen: Initial Ascent

Tulin did not return until nearly dawn the next morning.

Saki had stood in the doorway to the wooden traveler's lodge, eyes on the sky, late into the night. She had suggested that she should go out and search for him, but Teba had argued against it. If she went out into the night, then the odds were that there would be two missing Rito by morning.

She hadn't been the only one worried, however. For much of the evening, Teba had spent time stretching and working the muscles in his wing and shoulder. He claimed that he would be good to fly by morning, but Link had his doubts.

Eventually, they all slept, with both Link and Teba taking a guard shift during the night to ensure no nocturnal creature decided to try to attack them while the Rito all rested. The lodge was cramped, and the dozen Rito currently housed there all slept on the floor. All the while, the twin bonfires along the path to the lodge burned brightly—beacons of light and warmth in the otherwise dark snowscape.

About an hour before dawn, the door to the lodge opened, and there Tulin stood. His feathers were wet from the snow, and there was a shallow cut along his scalp that had stained some of his feathers red, but he otherwise stood tall.

Only a handful of the lodge's inhabitants were awake at the time, but as soon as the cry of surprise and relief went out, the others woke as well. Saki was the first to leap to her feet and rush towards Tulin, pulling him into her wings in an embrace. "Tulin! Are you hurt? Where have you been? What—you're bleeding!"

Tulin only endured his mother's preening for a few seconds before ducking out from her wing, his wings up to ward her off. "Mom! I'm okay, I just—"

He stopped when Teba stepped up beside Saki, eyes fierce as he stared down at his son. "Where have you been? Your mother was up half the night worrying about you."

The younger Rito met Teba's eyes with something of a glare of his own, though Link thought the effect was far more petulant in appearance than fierce. "Don't you think it would be good to find out where those things came from? I've never seen them before!"

"And it took you all night to scout out their nest?"

Tulin's expression faltered. "Well, no, but—"

"But what?"

Tulin averted his eyes now, and the feathers around his neck puffed up in a way that Link had come accustomed to Rito enough to know it was a sign of embarrassment.

Link stepped up next to view, having just finished donning his belt and leather armor pieces over his tunic, and as soon as Tulin noticed him, the boy's eyes widened.

"Oh! Link, why are you—oh! I bet you're here with Zelda to figure out the storm, aren't you? Was that why she flew up towards it?"

Everything froze, and for a moment, Link thought that he had used his time dilation ability instinctively, as he used to be prone to doing before mastering it. But no, Tulin's casual mention of Zelda had merely shocked the occupants of the lodge, all of whom had heard by now that Zelda was missing, into silence.

He felt their eyes on him.

"You saw her?" Link asked.

"Yeah! I followed the monsters back to their nest and saw them attacking her."

Link's body tensed.

"I tried to go to help, but then—" Tulin hesitated only a moment before continuing. "Then she just flew off! Straight up into the clouds. How could she even do that?"

"You're sure it was her?" Link asked. If she had flown off, then she must have been safe. She had to be safe.

"Pretty sure. She looked a little different—her hair was shorter than the last time I saw her—but I got a pretty good look at her before she left. How long has she been able to fly like that, anyway?"

"Did you see where she went?"

Tulin's look of embarrassment returned. "I—not exactly. I tried to follow her, but…" He trailed off, glancing towards his father.

Teba crossed his wings over his chest, looking down at Tulin with a stern expression once more. The smaller Rito seemed to wilt under that gaze.

"I was trying to help her. When I saw that she was being attacked, I went to help, but one of those things got the drop on me. I didn't realize that there were still some flying around above me."

Saki gasped. "You were hurt!"

Tulin shook his head quickly. "Not really. We fought a bit, and I got a scrape on my head, but nothing serious. But the thing—it got hold of my bow and snapped it."

Teba growled softly. "How did you let that happen?"

"Like I said! I was trying to help Zelda when it surprised me—that's all! I managed to get away from it before we both ended up crashing to the ground, but my bow ended up broken in the process."

Link's mind still whirled at the knowledge that Zelda had been here. Here. It had to be a sign, right? This was where he was meant to be, and the fact that she had flown up to the sky further proved that point.

"Teba," Saki said, reaching out and placing a wing against Teba's shoulder. "It could have happened to anyone."

"It wouldn't have happened if Tulin had just taken a moment to look at his surroundings or, better yet, not fly off on his own." Teba's eyes remained fixed on Tulin's face.

Tulin's expression flashed with irritation. "If I'd waited, then I would have lost the monsters in the storm! I had to go so I could find their nest!"

"And what did that get you, fledgling? A broken bow and a terrified mother."

"I'm not a fledgling anymore!" Tulin's outburst rang out in the lodge's cramped, open room, bringing with it a second or two of silence that followed.

"Until you learn that you can't do everything on your own, you are," Teba finally said, his voice as cold as the air outside.

Tulin glared up at his father, wings clenched into fists.

Link didn't want to interrupt them now, but he had to speak up. "So you didn't see where Zelda went?"

It took Tulin several tense moments before he finally broke eye contact with Teba and looked at Link. "I tried—I did! After my bow got broken, I flew up towards the storm to see if I could find her."

Teba made another irritated sound, but his son kept going.

"I searched for hours. There are a ton of floating islands and stuff around the storm, and I flew around a bunch of them for as long as I could before I had to stop to rest."

"You should have—"

"Teba," Saki said, pulling on his wing. "I'm all right."

Teba clicked his beak shut, glancing down at Saki. Slowly, his feathers, which had puffed out some as he'd argued with Tulin, settled back to normal. He nodded before turning his gaze back on Tulin, his expression lacking much of the heat it had before.

"Tell me about these flying creatures. How many were there, what did they look like, and how far away is their nest?"

As Tulin launched into his description of the flying creatures, which sounded to him like some kind of giant keese, Link's mind wandered. Once again, Zelda had been near but hadn't approached him. Maybe in this circumstance, she hadn't known he was there, but it felt like such an odd coincidence.

Why had she flown into the sky? Had she done that for Tulin's—and by extension, Link's—benefit? What was she trying to show them? Most likely, they needed to stop the storm, but why not state it more clearly? And what was she doing in the meantime?

The possibilities terrified him.

He had to find her.

The icy wind gust nearly blew Link over.

He grunted, holding firmly to his twin walking staffs to steady himself until the gust subsided. As soon as it had, he turned his gaze upward, spotting Tulin flying above, his replacement bow held in his talons. The young Rito barely seemed affected by the gusting winds and only had to flap a couple of times to right himself in the air.

Teba, who stood in the snow beside him, couldn't quite say the same.

When they'd left the cabin earlier, after Link had donned his gear and strapped the wooden snowshoes on under his boots, Tulin had immediately taken flight, telling them he would lead them to the monster nest, where Link hoped they would find some sign of Zelda's presence. Teba, whose wings were still sore from the arduous flight the day prior, chose to stay on the ground for the time being.

Rito, with their lighter frames and wide-toed feet, tended not to sink much in the snow, so the trek wasn't as bad as it could have been. Link's own snowshoes kept him from sinking, though they were awkward to walk in, and he could only imagine what they would be like to fight in. He was grateful for Tulin's ability to fly and provide overwatch.

His gaze turned back to the snowy path before them. The land gradually rose before them in a long pass between two mountains, and as they entered the pass, the wind shifted, blowing through the gap and causing Link's cloak to wave behind him. He grunted, thankful for the goggles he wore, or else he would have been completely blinded by the snow blowing in his face.

"Why do you think Zelda is around here?" Teba asked, once the wind had died down again. "Strange place to be with everything going on."

Link shrugged. "I don't know. I assume she's trying to stop the storm, too. Or she's leading us where we need to go to stop it."

"Without telling you?"

He didn't answer that question directly because he truly didn't have any answers that made sense. Why would Zelda avoid contact with him like this? Why did she visit their house, only to fly off? Why let herself get attacked? Why be up on the mountain at all, if she could fly at will?

"I'm sure she has her reasons for it."

"I don't like being kept in the dark," Teba said, looking up at the sky.

"Neither do I."

Suddenly, Tulin landed, breathing heavily. "Hey! Did you want to see one of those monsters? I shot one down near here when it attacked earlier. I bet I can find it again."

Link glanced towards Teba. He didn't want to delay potentially finding Zelda, but he couldn't deny his curiosity, either. He nodded, and Tulin excitedly took flight again, departing from his previous flight path to pass over a small grove of trees.

Teba growled as he watched Tulin fly off in the direction of the trees. "He needs to stay closer. We won't be able to reach him quickly enough if he comes under attack."

Link smiled under his scarf. His own father had not been as gruff, perhaps, as Teba, but Arn and Link had their fair share of arguments and misunderstandings, especially in the years before Link had transitioned to staying in barracks with the other squires. He suspected that, one day, when he and Zelda had children of their own, he would find plenty of reasons to butt heads with them, too.

Assuming there is a future in which we have those children, Link thought, his smile fading. Don't think like that. I'll find her.

Link noticed that some branches overhead looked to have been broken, and he frowned. Something had crashed down through them, or so he thought. Overhead, Tulin circled, eyes darting this way and that, apparently still searching for the downed foe. Link suspected that it might not be easy to do from above, however, thanks to the constant snowfall.

But from the ground level…

"Look there," he said, a minute later. He pointed at a conspicuous patch of yellow against the brown bark of a tree trunk. At first glance, he thought it might have been a large tree frond, but it was too big and in the wrong shape. It looked like it was attached to something under the snow, as well.

Teba waved his wings at Tulin while Link moved closer, kneeling in the snow and inspecting the thing sticking up from the snow. It was a leathery wing, yellow and spotted red on one side and a ruddy purple on the underside. It looked somewhat like a keese's wing, though much larger.

He quickly cleared away the snow, revealing more of the dead creature underneath. It was large—as large, if not larger, than an adult Rito—and reptilian. In fact, its body looked almost like a winged frog, with a large mouth lined with sharp teeth and a pair of bulging red eyes, each the size of one of Link's closed fists. It had a pair of furry antenna sticking out from its forehead, one just above each eye.

Tulin landed in the snow behind him, and soon the two Rito were there too, helping Link clear the rest of the snow.

Each of its wings had a three-fingered hand halfway down their span, and it also had two short legs, each ending in a foot with four frog-like toes. It had a long tail that ended in a set of fish-like fins like a second set of wings.

"That's it," Tulin said, pointing at the shaft of an arrow sticking out of the creature's back. "I brought that one down last night, but the others ran."

Teba reached down, taking the arrow shaft in his wing and pulling it free. It was crusted in orange blood that mostly looked to be frozen. He glanced up at Tulin. "Good job. Looks like a clean shot."

Tulin swelled noticeably at the praise, smiling and looking quite pleased.

Teba looked at Link. "What do you think? Have you ever seen one of these before? I haven't."

Link shook his head. "No, but… have you ever heard of aerocudas?" When Teba shook his head, he rubbed his chin. "I never thought they were real, but I remember seeing pictures of them in children's books growing up. The depictions looked a lot like these."

In the stories, aerocudas were said to swoop down and snatch up children who had wandered too far from their parents, taking them back to their caves to feed them to their own young. Until today, he had just assumed them to be cautionary myths, like ghinis or the Skull Kid.

"Aerocudas, huh?" Tulin said, poking the dead creature with one taloned toe. "Well, monster or not, they can be brought down easily enough."

"Yeah, looks like it. And neither of you have ever seen these around the mountains before?"

"No," Teba said, frowning. "Think it's related to the storm?"

"Or whoever caused the storm," Link said, thinking back to the corpse-like entity he and Zelda had encountered. He didn't like not knowing where Ganondorf had disappeared off to or what he was doing. At least with the Calamity, he had always known where it was and what it wanted.

Teba stood up straighter, tossing the arrow to the side. "Let's keep moving. If we push, we can get there by sunset."

Link had been climbing since he was a boy. In his youth, he had found a great deal of enjoyment in terrifying his mother by climbing the steep cliffs that rose behind their home in Hateno Village, usually with nothing but his bare hands and feet. He'd fallen plenty of times and had broken some bones in the process, but he had also gotten proficient at it. He was very practiced in finding hand and footholds and hanging for hours at a time.

That was why he felt so frustrated while ascending the cliffs surrounding Talonto Peak, just southwest of Mount Hebra. While the snow and ice certainly made climbing more difficult, it wasn't anything that Link hadn't faced before. However, just like while making his way across the Great Sky Island, he found himself growing exhausted far more quickly than he had before his injury.

Even with the use of a rope harness and the Rito pair, both of whom had flown up to secure the end of the rope, the climb was far slower than Link would have liked. His arms were spent, and the spot where his Zonai arm fused with his shoulder burned constantly. It made him think of times in the past when he had torn open stitches—a grim thought that had him occasionally checking his shoulder, just in case.

Teba had offered to try to fly him higher, but he'd refused. Teba's wing was still sore from the day before, and trying to fly up the side of the mountain would have likely been too taxing. Tulin had also offered to try, and he wondered if the youth, despite being physically smaller than he, could have managed it.

Unlike Teba, Tulin had no problem with flying about, despite the wind gusts. He seemed innately capable of telling when the wind would blow and from which direction, effortlessly adjusting his flight to take advantage of it, rather than being hindered by it. Not since Revali had he ever seen a Rito fly with such skill, and he knew that Revali had spent years training himself to fly as he did.

"Hey, Link! You all right down there?" a voice called from overhead.

Link looked up from where he rested, huddled against the side of the cliff, making use of a small outcropping and his rope harness. The wind was mostly blocked by the rest of the mountain, but the cold here, just underneath the swirling storm overhead, was oppressive.

He didn't speak, but flashed a thumbs up at Teba, who peered over the edge of the cliff and down at him. Link grimaced at just how far away the Rito was, even though his body felt as though it had been climbing for hours. Though difficult to tell, the sun was well on its way to setting. They had, perhaps, two more hours of daylight and still a ways to cover before they reached their destination.

Taking a deep breath, Link forced himself to rise, pressing himself to the side of the mountain. He looked up, spotting his next several hand and footholds, and started to climb again. His fingers ached. Though he wore gloves, he couldn't wear his thicker ones, so his hands weren't as protected from the elements as he would have preferred.

Come on, Link, he chided himself. If Zelda's up there somewhere—

He couldn't stop.

So he kept going. Hand over hand, foot over foot. The gear on his back felt like leaden weights, threatening to pull him down. Occasionally, he paused to undo the brake he'd tied into his rope, feeding it through his harness and tying off another brake to hopefully keep him from tumbling off the side of the mountain if he fell. All the while, the wind howled through the crevices all around him.

"Dad, watch out!"

Voices from above. The twang of a bow string. Something unintelligible—a hooting, grunting sound.

He looked up sharply. He was close to the top now—just another twenty feet or so. Throwing aside caution and careful consideration of his route, Link sped up. Though his muscles screamed, and twice a hand or foothold broke free, he reached the cliff's edge quickly and saw the source of the strange grunting and sounds of battle.

Tulin and Teba were engaged with a group of unusual-looking creatures that Link had never seen before. They were about the size of a moblin, though perhaps a head shorter, with thick and muscular, fur-covered arms, each ending in three long digits with sharp claws. They had two legs, with two clawed toes on each foot. They had almost no neck, but an oversized head at the end of their shoulders, with a bulbous nose the size of Link's fist and a wide mouth with four long canine teeth. Their eyes were red with white centers, and they each bore a single, pointed horn that curved forward, extending past the end of their nose.

There were about half a dozen of the creatures, all just within a fissure in the rock of the mountain, which looked to be the entrance to a cave that burrowed deep under Talonto Peak. They used the claws on their fingers and toes to hang from the walls and the ceiling with apparent ease.

One was lying on the ground, dead or dying, an arrow sprouting from its eye. The others hooted and screeched at Teba and Tulin, several of them wielding crude-looking, stone-tipped spears while two others held rocks the size of Link's head in their massive hands.

The two Rito, for their part, seemed unharmed. Tulin hovered, strafing back and forth in the air, holding his bow in his talons, while Teba crouched behind a small boulder, holding his own bow in his wings.

When Link climbed up onto the snowy ground, Teba looked over at him. "Nice of you to join us!"

"What did you do to make these—" Link started but then cut off as Tulin gave a warning yell and one of those large rocks bounced off Teba's boulder, making the older Rito duck and swear.

Link quickly crossed the distance, huddling beside Teba. The creatures in the cave kept hooting and screeching, and Tulin's bow string snapped as he shot another arrow towards them. One of the creatures cried out sharply.

"What are these things?" Link asked, peering around the edge of the boulder.

"No idea," Teba said. "Never seen them before."

"Great!"

"A couple of them tried to grab us from behind. Tulin spotted them just in time and gave the warning. They're pretty quick."

Link nodded, taking in Teba's explanation and weighing their options. They could, perhaps, just move on. It was possible that these beasts were territorial and were merely protecting their cave. If so, they may just let the trio go once they started up the mountain.

With Tulin flying overhead, Link suspected that they could also stand their ground and fight. The trio were outnumbered, but the creatures did not seem to be trained warriors. The stones thrown could cause some serious harm, but as long as they were careful, he figured they could pick the beasts off with arrows and not need to engage in melee.

And if they did need to fight close up, Link had no doubt he could make quick work of their crude spears.

"Hey, come on!" Tulin yelled from overhead, swooping near the cave's entrance. "What, can't hit me?"

Teba groaned.

Link peered around the boulder to see Tulin easily dodge one of the stones, letting it sail past him and over the side of the mountain. Suddenly, an idea occurred to Link, and he wondered if it was something that he could get to work.

As another stone flew, this one in his direction again, forcing Teba to duck back down, Link thrust his arm out towards it. As the stone arced through the air, fast enough to shatter bones, he stood his ground, doing his best to focus his mind.

The powers still felt foreign to him, but he had been practicing. He'd done so every day on the road to Rito Village, fighting to master these strange abilities. So he wasn't surprised when he thought he could feel the stone's passage through time.

His arm flashed with golden light, and the stone responded. Mere feet from his face, it stopped in the air, pausing for just a breath, before suddenly launching back. It followed the exact same arc, spinning in the exact same way, but in reverse. It shot past Tulin, who yelled out in surprise, and straight into the face of one of the creatures. Not the same one who had thrown it, but another that had, unfortunately for it, chosen that moment to move into the stone's path.

The creature's head rocked back, tearing its claws from the cave's wall. It spun in midair, flipping head over feet, before crashing to the ground in a heap. It didn't rise again.

For a moment, there was silence. None of the creatures had expected to have one of their own stones thrown back at them by the puny Hylian or his Rito companions, after all. All eyes were on Link, whose arm's glow faded now that the stone no longer swam upstream through time's flow.

Twin bows twanged, and two more of the creatures went down, each sprouting arrows from their faces. That left just two of the monsters still upright, each holding a spear. If they were like bokoblins, they would almost certainly run. Moblins, in Link's experience, were more likely to get enraged and fight on.

What would these creatures do?

They bellowed, both hooting at them angrily, and began to crawl backwards along the walls of the cave, still holding their spears warily. They disappeared into the shadows, save for the light reflecting from their eyes, and then even those faded. Link breathed a sigh of relief but kept his eyes on the fissure in the stone, wary of a trick.

Tulin wasn't quite so worried. He landed right in front of Link, eyes wide. "How did you do that? Did you throw that rock? It was huge!"

"Tulin—" Link started, looking past him at the dark cave. Had something just moved? It was so hard to tell with all the snow blowing about.

Teba's bowstring snapped twice in quick succession, twin arrows darting forward. They both met their targets with wet thuds, and those sounds were followed by two more, heavier thuds, as the two remaining creatures both fell, dead, just barely able to be seen in the cave's darkness.

Tulin spun, surprised. "What—!"

"Don't turn your back on an enemy, Tulin!" Teba barked, moving around the boulder to glare down at Tulin. "Never assume they're no longer a threat unless you make sure they're not."

"Dad—"

"Do you understand?" Teba pointed his wing towards the fallen enemies, whose blood stained the snow and coated the stone of the cave's floor. "This isn't a game, Tulin. If you let your guard down too quickly, you will die. And if not you, then others who are counting on you."

Tulin responded to the words like he'd been slapped. He winced, but rather than wilt, his eyes grew hostile. His fingers formed fists at the ends of his wings, and his beak turned up slightly. "I understand," he said, voice clipped and sounding every bit like his father's son.

"Do you?"

"I was paying enough attention to warn you, wasn't I?" Before Teba could reply, Tulin spun around. "Come on. We're almost there!" The younger Rito took flight, shooting up into the air towards the mountain's peak. Teba watched him go, irritation visible in his expression.

Link cleared his throat. "Are you all right?"

Teba grunted. "I'm fine." After a moment, he sighed. "Dammit, he's right, too. He probably saved my life at the beginning of that fight. He held off all seven of those bastards while I got behind that rock."

Link nodded slowly. "You're right, though. He turned his back on them too quickly when he thought they were running. And he blocked my field of view. If you hadn't been watching, they could have gotten the drop on us."

Teba didn't respond, still staring up towards where Tulin now circled overhead. "Skies, it was easier when he looked up to me and thought I was right about everything."

Link didn't respond, but he suspected that Tulin still looked up to Teba quite a bit. He wasn't so removed from his own youth that he couldn't remember what it was like to want to be like his well-respected father. He wondered what it would be like if he and Zelda had children one day.

We'll never know if I don't find her first, he thought grimly.

Teba stowed his bow and stretched his wings. "Come on. Get your rope, and let's get moving. Almost to the top."

The top of the mountain was empty, save for a lone pine tree standing tall at its peak. There was no sign of Zelda.

Link stood by the tree, looking up towards the swirling storm overhead. Tulin said that she'd flown up, much like when she had visited him in his bed more than a week ago. He'd seen no sign of her since then, so what did it mean that she reappeared now, and to Tulin of all people?

It couldn't have been a coincidence, but it might not have been deliberate, either. Echoes of conversations with Zelda replayed in his mind—evenings spent discussing concepts like fate, self-determination, personal failings, and Hylia's will. How many moments in their lives were orchestrated by cosmic forces beyond their understanding?

Or had Zelda planned for this occurrence? Had she allowed herself to be seen by Tulin because she knew the young Rito would find Link and let him know?

Tulin and Teba stood near the peak's edge. The elder's eyes scanned the landscape around them, while the younger's eyes were pointed up, towards the storm. Where Zelda, apparently, had gone.

Link sighed, moving up beside the two Rito. "I have to get there."

Teba looked over at him. "Figured you'd say that. I don't suppose you've grown a pair of wings since we got to the top of the mountain, have you?"

"There are some platforms that fell near Mount Hebra's peak," Tulin said, pointing with his wing. "Maybe we could start there? There are other islands near it, too."

Link couldn't see what he was pointing at. Between the blowing snow and the darkening sky overhead, he could barely make out the hulking shape of Mount Hebra's hooked peak, for that matter.

"I see it," Teba said, reaching up to stroke his beak with his wing. "You're right. It almost looks like there's a chain of islands that starts at the peak and then spirals up."

"Yeah, I noticed that! It was hard to tell last night, but I can see it better now."

Teba made a contemplative sound, glancing to the side at Link before looking again at the mountain. Then he stretched out his right wing—the one that had been causing him so many problems. His face didn't show any of the discomfort he'd shown earlier in the day when testing his wing, but he apparently still felt it, because he shook his head after several seconds.

"I can't fly you there, Link. My wing's still not fully recovered, and this close to the storm…"

Tulin looked between Teba and Link, frowning. "I could try."

"No," Teba said. "You might be a strong flier, but you wouldn't be able to sustain it. You wouldn't even be able to glide with Link on top of you, much less gain altitude."

Tulin appeared frustrated by the statement but didn't argue. A sign, Link suspected, that he knew his father was right. After a few seconds, he said, "So what do we do?"

"We'll have to cross." Teba clicked his beak in irritation, turning his golden eyes on Link. "I could probably glide you down. Maybe get us halfway there? The rest will have to be on foot, though, and we're going to need to find shelter soon. Temperatures are dropping fast."

Link nodded but considered the distance. He didn't relish the idea of flying down into the valley between the two mountains and trying to find a place to shelter the night down there. He considered the cave they had encountered earlier, but if there were more of those monsters around, they likely wouldn't take kindly to the three of them hunkering down in their territory.

There were places they could shelter under the mountain's hook-shaped outcropping, he knew. He and Zelda had sheltered in a small cave there several years prior while searching out a Sheikah Shrine she'd heard about.

There was no way they could reach that section of the mountain on foot tonight, and Link could tell that Teba was right about the temperature. Now that he had given his body a few minutes of rest, the chill was already setting in. Even his Rito-made clothing and cloak weren't enough to keep him warm in this situation.

Link was about to suggest that they glide back down in the direction of the lodge and try again the next day, when an idea occurred to him. He had no idea if it would work, but if it did, he thought they might be able to make it across the gap between the mountains.

"What if I used my paraglider? Could you tow me across?"

Teba grunted and shook his head. "With the storm? Not a chance. That would be more likely to just end up with both of us in a tailspin."

"Wait," Tulin said, looking up at Teba with wide eyes. "I think that could work!"

Teba turned his gaze on Tulin. "In this wind? The paraglider would end up getting blown all over the place. There's no way we could fly straight, even with both of us."

"No, listen!" Tulin stepped forward and spun, facing both of them. "Look, the storm is a big cyclone. The air flow this close to it mostly follows the spinning." He waved his wing in a wide circle to demonstrate the point.

"Maybe so," Teba said. "But there is still far too much turbulence and crosswind—especially in the mountains."

"I know, but I can get us through all that. If we're careful, we can stay in favorable winds."

Teba clicked his beak. "Son, we're talking about flying in a blizzard! The space between the mountains, alone, will be nothing but crosswinds."

Tulin shook his head quickly. "That's not true. I can find a way through, Dad! You know I can."

"Maybe you alone, Tulin, but I can't. Definitely not while dragging Link on a big kite."

"I'm not saying you can!" Tulin snapped, his feathers puffing out slightly in indignation. "I can. I can fly in this—it barely even ruffles my feathers! And I can do it while dragging both of you along, if you just—" He let out a breath, deflating some. "Just give me a chance."

Teba fell silent, expressionless as he stared down at Tulin. Link looked between both of them, hesitant to intrude on the moment.

Tulin stared up at his father. "Dad—"

"Are you sure?" Teba said, voice stern. Tulin opened his beak to respond, but Teba spoke over him. "Are you sure, Tulin? Because if you're wrong, we all go down. Not just you, not just me—all three of us. So you need to be sure."

Tulin shut his beak, uncertainty flashing through his eyes. He looked back at the distant mountain and then up towards the storm. He opened his wings, spreading them wide, and closed his eyes, silent for a long time. The wind blew, causing the feathers on his wings to shiver and wave.

He opened his eyes, dropped his wings, and turned back to Teba. "I'm sure. I can find the way."

Link wasn't certain this was a good idea.

He had tied the rope around his waist, cinching it tightly, and used leather straps to secure his hands to the paraglider's handholds. If his grip slipped in mid-flight, it wouldn't matter how skilled Tulin was—all three of them would be going down, regardless.

The rope led to Teba and another length to Tulin. Both of them would carry the rope in their talons, rather than tying it to their legs. That way, if something went wrong, they could let go and he would glide to wherever the wind took him, rather than all three of them losing control. There was still a good chance of him being smashed into the side of a rock, but at least that way, the two Rito might be able to come back around and help guide his descent or rescue him.

They had gone over the plan several times. Normally, trying to fly with something like the paraglider dragging behind wouldn't be advisable in this kind of weather. In calmer skies, it could have been feasible, but in the mountains with the blizzard and the heavy winds, the odds would be far too high that the wind would just yank the paraglider from their talons, or worse.

Tulin, however, maintained that he could get them through. He'd gone flying, crossing the distance twice just to be sure he had the feel for the flight. In that time, night had fallen, and the clouds overhead obscured the light from the stars and moon. The snow on the ground reflected what light there was, but it was dim, and the mountain in the distance was nothing more than a hulking shape, occasionally lit by lightning in the storm.

"Are you ready?" Tulin asked, looking from Teba to Link. He sounded nervous, but there was definite excitement in his tone, too. Link could understand that excitement—he remembered being a page at the castle and working to impress his father through his skill with the sword.

A gust blew across the narrow peak, catching the underside of the paraglider and nearly pulling Link off his feet. He grunted as he fought to get it back under control—it wouldn't do to be blown off the peak before they even had a chance to get moving in the right direction.

Teba fixed Tulin with a gold-eyed stare. "We're as ready as we can be, but if we're going to do this, we need to do it now. We still have to find shelter when we get across."

"Right," Tulin said, his expression growing serious once more. "First thing we need to do is fly southeast. The wind curves around this peak, and if we catch it right, it should help us gain altitude before we get over the valley."

Teba nodded, and he and Tulin each faced that direction, spreading their wings. Link gripped his paraglider tightly through his gloves, exhaling out a plume of mist that was caught by the wind as quickly as it was produced.

"Okay, let's go!" Tulin said, and together he and his father flapped their wings and leaped off the mountain's peak.

Link sprinted forward through the snow and followed their lead, jumping and letting the wind catch his paraglider. For a moment, the rope between him and the two Rito ahead was slack, but then it snapped taut, and Link was dragged forward through the air by his midsection.

He grunted as the sudden speed caused his body to bend backward and his paraglider to angle upwards. This, in turn, made him shoot into the air, rising quickly like a kite, before a sharp gust sent him to the side, towards the south and not the east.

Below, he could see the two Rito already struggling, fighting against the sudden force pulling them along. They flapped hard, the shift in direction causing them both to get dangerously close to colliding in the air, and Link wondered if they would need to release the line and let him go.

He snarled, the sound lost to the wind, and strained his body and arms to force the paraglider into a position parallel to the ground. He felt his fingers slipping, and his shoulders protested, but by sliding his hands forward just an inch on the curved handle, he managed to bring the nose of the paraglider down a few degrees.

The Rito still fought against the wind, but this change seemed to make the difference they needed. They kept flying forward and began to rise higher into the air, approaching Link's altitude. The crosswind died down, and Link relaxed as some of the strain on his shoulders faded.

Teba glanced back over his shoulder at Link and flashed him a brief thumbs up before powering on with his son. Though Link couldn't hear them from his position, he could tell they were communicating closely as they mirrored each other's motions, flying in a tight formation. Together, they rose and dipped, dragging Link and his paraglider in their wake, slowly curving back towards Mount Hebra's hooked peak.

Twice more, they encountered crosswinds as well as a heavy downdraft as they passed over the valley that Tulin had warned them about. None of those events caught them off-guard as the first had, and Tulin made the corrections needed to keep them moving forward. The wind roared in Link's ears as he trailed behind the father and son pair, and lightning split the sky, bringing the mountain into sharp relief.

He began to rise again as the air current climbed the mountain's face, and the two Rito did the same, allowing the updraft to push them higher. Trees passed beneath Link's feet in a blur, followed by ancient brickwork—the top of a massive structure of seemingly Zonai origin, which had buried itself in the side of the mountain.

They climbed higher, allowing the natural wind direction to push them on. Link was slowly being driven to the side, pushed out of alignment with the Rito, but any concerns over that proved unfounded. Though Link's boots brushed the top of some trees along the way, they soon reached a place where the mountain's incline gave way to the huge semi-circle cutout in its side, just beneath the peak.

Legends spoke of an ancient battle against Calamity Ganon, which had resulted in this carved-out section. Some kind of destructive force that had obliterated an entire piece of the mountain.

Link might have doubted it had he not personally witnessed the Divine Beasts as they fired on Calamity Ganon six years prior. The destructive force unleashed that day, when the sky seemed to peel away and evil had attempted to end everything, had been both breathtaking and terrible.

What was something as small as a mountain against something like that?

Link's feet touched down just inside the concave slope of the hole. Snow coated the ground here, though not as thick as in other places, and enormous icicles hung from the ceiling far overhead like jagged teeth. The curved walls were coated in ice, several inches thick. Though the angle of the wind left this carved-out area somewhat protected from the worst of the gusts, the howling echoed off the walls eerily, further making Link feel as though he were inside the maw of an enormous beast.

Teba landed next to Link, sighing heavily and looking winded. He glanced up as Tulin flew in a circle around the cave, weaving between the icicles before coming to land in front of them.

"We did it!" Tulin said, eyes wide with exhileration. "I was worried there at the beginning, but I knew I could find the way through."

Teba chuckled softly, stepping forward and placing his wing on Tulin's head, ruffling his feathers. "You did good, son."

Tulin made an irritated sound, pulling away from Teba's wing. "Hey!" He reached up and smoothed down some of the feathers atop his head, though several still stuck straight up.

Teba smiled and turned to Link. "We'll bed down here for the night. If we can get some wood, do you think you could start a fire?"

Link wasn't sure how likely it was that they would find wood dry enough for a fire, but he couldn't deny how nice a proper fire sounded. The air was frigid here, as high up as they were, and Link didn't relish the idea of having to sleep half-frozen with nothing but his cloak to warm him.

"I can try," he said.

"I'll go find some!" Tulin said. Before Teba could even respond, the youth took flight again, shooting out of the mouth of the cavern like an arrow loosed from a bow.

Teba shook his head. "Damn fledgling…" When he looked down, however, Link could see pride in his golden eyes.

"What he did today—getting us across that gap like that—"

"Should have been impossible," Teba finished.

"Right. That's what I thought too."

Teba nodded. "He has always had an affinity for flying. At times, it has felt as though he could bend the wind to his will or at least know exactly when and where it would blow. Even tonight, when you got blown off course, I swear that Tulin reacted before the gust even caught you. I was the one who reacted too slowly and almost lost control."

"Do you think it means something?" Link asked. He drew his cloak more tightly around him as a gust of wind entered the cavern from the side, blowing ice and snow through it.

"I don't know." Teba shook his head, frowning. "But it does make you think. Especially in light of everything happening in Hyrule now, maybe his abilities are more needed than ever."

Link couldn't agree more with that statement. As he moved further down into the cavern and began clearing a spot of some of the snow on the ground, he thought back to his time with the Champions of old. All four of them had been special in their ways, possessing abilities that were largely unique at the time.

Revali had been able to form gusts of wind from seemingly nothing—updrafts that propelled him far into the air. Urbosa could create and direct lightning, born out of long exposure to the Gerudo's Thunder Helm. Mipha could heal—an ability not unique to her among the Zora, but one that she was particularly adept at. And finally, Daruk had been able to create a shield of air and fire like a protective bubble around him and those nearest him.

Of the four modern Champions, three of them had cultivated similar abilities in themselves. Riju had practiced tirelessly with the Thunder Helm and could direct lightning more often than not, even when not wearing it; Yunobo had inherited Daruk's shield; even Sidon had begun working to cultivate his latent abilities, though they took a different form than Mipha's healing abilities.

The only one without any semblance of his predecessor's abilities was Teba. The Rito was a strong flier, for sure, and a great archer, but he had never shown the seemingly mystical ability to shape the wind to drive him into the air. Seeing Tulin now, however, gave Link pause. Had Revali's power been passed down to Tulin somehow, instead of Teba?

And if so, what did that mean?

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen: Pushing Too Hard

The next morning dawned cold and bright. The three of them had taken turns keeping their small fire going through the night, and the shallow cave in the rock wall of the cavern had protected them from the winds. The three of them had brought bedrolls in their packs, but sleeping on the cold stone did not make for a comfortable night's sleep, even when ignoring the howling winds and other, unknown sounds of the night.

Teba and Tulin went out together in the early morning light to hunt and brought back several rabbits, which Link cooked up over the fire. He didn't have his cooking supplies, so the breakfast was blander than he usually liked. It was filling, however, and all three of them felt better after eating something other than dry rations.

"So we're directly under the storm," Teba said after breakfast. They had run out of dry wood, and the fire was dying down. Already, it felt much colder in the cavern than it had earlier. "What now? You're still wanting to try to find a way to climb those islands?"

Link tightened down the straps on his pack, tying them off, and then secured his shield. "That's right. If Zelda's here, she's here for a reason. She's got to be trying to figure out the blizzard."

"Without telling anyone." Teba's tone was flat, and his expression annoyed. He didn't like being kept in the dark, and well, neither did Link.

"She'll have her reasons," Link said. "But that's why I want to find her. She might have even allowed Tulin to see her to get us to follow."

It was a stretch. He knew it was. Perhaps Zelda had known he would come here after recovering, and maybe she'd known he would pursue her if Tulin told him about her. There were far easier ways to achieve that goal, however, and the distraction of seeing her had very nearly gotten Tulin killed.

But it was all he had. Link had to find her.

"It's going to work, Dad," Tulin said, confident as only a youth could be. "I would bet my beak that she's gone up there to fix the storm, and she probably wants help doing it!"

Teba crossed his wings over his chest but didn't contradict his son. "We'll see. Something about this isn't sitting right with me. You're sure you saw Zelda?"

"Yes," Tulin said, exasperated. "I know what she looks like! It was her."

Teba met his son's eyes, considering, and then nodded. "All right. But that still doesn't answer the question of how we're going to get up there."

"That's easy! We do what we did yesterday. Link can glide with his paraglider, and we can pull him up."

"While circling the blizzard."

"That won't be as bad as you think," Tulin said, clearly growing excited. "The wind should be more in our favor as we get higher up."

Teba snorted, a plume of mist shooting out of the twin nostrils in his beak. "It isn't that simple, and you know it. The winds nearest the storm's wall will be some of the worst we will encounter, and the presence of the islands will create a lot of turbulence."

Tulin wasn't discouraged by Teba's words, and Link appreciated the youth's enthusiasm, especially after what he had achieved the night before. He had reason to believe Tulin when the Rito said he knew how to get somewhere.

"Regardless," Link said, glancing between them. "I will find a way to reach those islands. Maybe my powers can assist us." He raised his Zonai arm, concealed beneath his sleeves and gloves. Last night, around the fire, he had finally shared the full story with the two Rito, revealing the power bestowed upon him by Rauru and Zelda.

Teba nodded. "I figured. I'm with you, Link."

"So am I!" Tulin said, shooting to his feet, eyes wide with excitement. "Let's get up there and figure out how to stop this storm!"

Link and Teba both rose, donning their packs and putting out the last embers of the fire. Then they ventured back out into the blizzard.

The climb up the backside of Mount Hebra wasn't difficult, as far as climbs went. The mountain was steep, but its northern slope was traversable on foot. In fact, Link knew it was a popular place for some of the more experienced skiers and sledders in Hyrule—albeit one full of hazards.

However, the exposure made the climb miserable. The whole way, they were buffeted by winds that seemed to have a mind of their own, shifting this way and that, and the temperatures only plummeted further. Ice formed on Link's scarf, in front of his mouth, and he was forced to wear his goggles to protect his eyes.

His breathing grew more labored as they climbed. In the past, when he had summited Mount Hebra, the air certainly felt thinner, but whether because of his injuries or the storm, Link found himself needing to take several breaks just to catch his breath. The muscles in his legs burned with every step.

The Rito both fared better. Accustomed to higher elevations and cold temperatures, ascending Mount Hebra was easier in that way. Even they struggled with the temperatures, though, which Teba said were lower than any winter he'd ever experienced.

And this, in the middle of summer. Link dreaded to think of what a winter would be like with this storm overhead. If they didn't manage to fix this, then the Rito would likely need to abandon their homes completely and travel east, assuming the storm didn't expand to cover more of Hyrule.

Zonai ruins dotted the mountain. Most were just chunks from the islands overhead that had fallen during that initial upheaval. Everything from loose bricks to entire sections of wall or ground—a grim reminder for Link of Purah's tales of homes crushed by the falling debris. He hoped Kakariko Village was faring well and made a mental note to visit there as soon as he could.

At the peak of the mountain was a large piece of Zonai architecture. It looked to be an entire building or platform, standing upright and buried in the snow and ice, like a sentinel keeping watch over the land. That was their destination—the place from which Link hoped he could get onto the other floating islands that spiraled vertically from the mountain and up to the storm overhead.

"What do you think keeps them in the air?" Tulin asked as they rested in the shadow of a ruin that may have once been a building up on the Zonai island overhead.

Link rested his head back against the wall, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath. He had started feeling lightheaded as they climbed, necessitating this break, despite getting close to the peak. He'd climbed this mountain before, and it had never been as much of a struggle as it was now.

And to make matters worse, his arm was aching again. He felt that burning sensation from his shoulder all the way down to his fingertips. It wasn't incapacitating, but it still distracted him.

"Rauru said something about…" Link racked his brain to try to remember, but it was difficult. "Zonai-something… Zonaite! Refined Zonaite. Something about that helped the islands to fly, though he couldn't tell me much about it."

Teba handed Link a waterskin. "Drink this. You look like you're barely awake."

Link took the water gratefully, pulling the cap off and taking a large pull on it. It tasted pure and refreshing, and its icy chill helped clear his mind some. He looked up the mountain's slope, at the peak, still at least another hour's climb at the very least.

"Are you going to be all right?" Teba asked, noticing Link's grimace.

He sighed. "This climb was never so difficult for me before."

"You realize that the air is only going to get thinner the higher we go." Teba craned his neck, looking straight up. "We'll probably be at least half again as high by the time we reach the upper reaches of the clouds—maybe even higher. It's going to get more difficult. Dangerous."

Link closed his eyes again, focusing on his breathing. He was starting to feel better. The air wasn't so thin that breathing was difficult, though he could certainly feel the difference. He didn't know how it would be as they rose above the mountain, however.

"I have to at least try," he said, opening his eyes and meeting Teba's. "It's probably the only way to stop this blizzard."

"Hey, did you hear that?" Tulin asked, standing up and looking around, frowning.

"Hear what?" Teba asked, looking about warily.

"I thought I heard a voice…"

Link sat up straighter. "Zelda? Was it her voice?" He remembered the way she used to communicate with him back when she fought to confine Calamity Ganon to the castle.

Tulin shook his head and hunched his head slightly, embarrassed. "It was probably nothing. Maybe just the wind?"

Teba nodded slowly. "Maybe. Still, probably a good thing to get moving again soon. Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Link said, forcing himself to his feet. His legs burned, but he could ignore the fatigue for a while longer. He did wish he still had Mipha's healing abilities, though—he had never realized during his journey to defeat Ganon just how much he relied on those abilities to keep him going. "Let's keep going."

It was oddly peaceful at the Hebra Peak. While the wind still blew about them, it felt muted. From their vantage, they could see the entire mountain range, though the constant snow made it difficult to see much further in any sort of detail. At times, when the winds shifted just right, Tulin said he could see Rito Village, but that was beyond Link's Hylian eyes.

Overhead, the swirling column of cloud and snow dominated the sky. Lightning flashed often, and Link caught more glimpses of the hulking shape within. Large and boxy, he couldn't deny what it looked like.

A ship.

"I think it's probably just one of these islands," Tulin said when Link pointed it out. "We would have noticed if a giant ship were floating around above the mountains."

Teba, standing next to Link, grunted. "You'd think we would have seen these floating islands, too."

Tulin didn't answer his father but squinted his eyes at the floating island nearest them. From their position atop the Zonai structure on the peak, they were a little higher in elevation than the island, which floated just off the side of the mountain. Beyond that island, others formed the chain that led higher and higher into the air.

Once more, Link was struck by the fact that this whole trial, so to speak, was seemingly made for the Rito. The island structures looked intentionally arrayed to allow someone with wings to travel from platform to platform. The only reason that the Rito hadn't yet attempted this was due to the powerful winds that prevented anyone but the strongest flier from doing so safely.

Conversely, the islands were certainly not arrayed for Hylians to traverse. While it did appear that some of the islands were connected or close enough to each other that they could be navigated with the paraglider, Tulin and Teba both assured him that was not the case as they got higher.

"Let's get started," Teba said, and Link nodded, beginning to unfold his paraglider. He felt the wind at his back and hoped it would propel him forward enough to reach the lowest island without requiring additional assistance. He had remade the rope harness and wore it uncomfortably around his waist, but they all agreed that it would be best to take it slow and preserve the Rito's wing strength until the ascent grew more challenging.

"Wait!" Tulin said, holding out his wing to stop them from moving. The Rito closed his eyes and tilted his head, as if listening to something only he could hear. He remained like that for a few seconds before opening his eyes again and looking at Link and Teba. "Okay, now we can go."

Link didn't feel any difference in the wind but didn't argue. As the two Rito spread their wings, he leapt free of the mountain. The wind immediately caught his paraglider and drove him forward, towards the floating island.

For a few seconds, he was alone in the open, snow-filled air, but then the two Rito joined him. Tulin moved ahead of him, settling into a position just ahead and to the left of Link. Teba glided just behind him and to the right.

Something about the formation helped guide their flight, as if Link were being pulled along in Tulin's wake. Their speed increased while Link's descent seemed to slow. Tulin banked his wings, turning slightly, and Link's paraglider appeared to follow of its own accord. The wind shifted direction slightly, pushing him to the side, but Tulin's turn counteracted it so that when Link's feet touched down, he was nearly perfectly aligned in the center of the floating island.

The island was long and narrow, constructed of brick and mortar rather than the semi-natural land mass that Link had woken on. It was canted just slightly to the side and back so that the part before Link and the Rito was higher than the section they'd landed on. There were no railings to either side, though the path was wide enough that Link didn't need to fear a single misstep.

It was not all on a single plane, either. Some stairs led higher, further along to a second landing and a large, pillar-like section that rose high into the air to reach yet another landing, some fifty feet higher up.

The island didn't appear to serve any purpose that Link could see. It didn't appear to be a broken piece of a larger whole. It had a few straight-edged overhangs like fins that jutted out from its sides, which struck a chord with Link for some reason, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

"That wasn't so bad!" Tulin said, touching down in front of Link and spinning around. "The wind practically did it for us."

"Well, thank the winds, I suppose," Link said, smiling as he folded his paraglider so a gust wouldn't catch it and send him flying over the edge of the platform. "Now, if it could just keep that up, that would be great."

"Don't count on it," Teba said, craning his neck and looking up.

"It won't be so bad!" Tulin said, looking excited. "You'll see."

They began to climb the shallow incline, approaching the opposite edge of the floating island. An icy gale cut across the path, causing Link's cloak to flap and billow, and he tugged his scarf up further up over his nose. Lightning flashed, and a low peal of thunder echoed through the mountain range beneath them.

They climbed the stairs, and that's when Link saw the first sign that they might not be alone up on these remote Zonai islands. Though the construct wasn't functional, Link couldn't mistake the pile of rounded components for anything else, even if half of it was buried under a snowdrift.

"What's that?" Tulin asked as Link knelt by the old Zonai machine.

"The Zonai called it a construct. They served a lot of different purposes back in their day, including as guardians. I had to fight a few after I woke up on the big island."

This one looked to have been nonfunctional for a very long time. While its structure was mostly intact, its pieces locked together in hibernation, parts of it were cracked and broken, and it was pockmarked with weathering. He thought it might have been one of the stewards, rather than a soldier, though in its inert state, it was hard to tell.

"Hopefully they're all shut down like this one," he said, standing back up and pulling his scarf down so he could more easily speak. "They can be difficult to kill with conventional weapons."

Teba grunted. "We'll keep an eye out, regardless."

"I could scout ahead," Tulin offered, too eagerly in Link's opinion. The young Rito was so desperate to prove himself or to just show off. He worried Tulin's excitement could prove to be a liability if it wasn't tempered by caution.

Teba appeared to agree with Link's assessment, because he shook his head. "No. We stick together. The last thing we need is for you to get engaged by these constructs while Link and I are unaware or unable to assist."

Tulin looked like he wanted to argue, but when Link nodded in agreement, he relented. "Okay, if you say so."

"Good," Teba said, sounding pleased. He stepped past his son to the edge of the island, looking out at the next one in the chain. This one was situated slightly higher than the platform they were on, and Link suspected that they would need to fly with the ropes again.

"It would be easier to get over there if we could take off from up there," Tulin said, looking up at the overhead landing held up by the pillar. Link's eyes followed his, and then he looked to the pillar itself.

Like the construct, it was weathered by the years, with pockmarks and chipped sections aplenty. He was confident that he could climb it, though with the thinner air and how quickly he exhausted his strength, it would be a difficult thing.

That knowledge was largely pointless, however, as the platform overhead extended out on all sides from the top of the pillar. There would be no way over to the sides of the platform to finish the climb.

Not normally, anyway.

"I think… I can get myself up there," he said, looking intently at the climb. It would be the first time he tried such a thing, and any number of things could go horribly wrong. He could end up plummeting to the ground far below, he could suffocate, he could get turned around and come out the wrong side.

But he distinctly remembered the feeling of swimming up through the ground with Rauru guiding him. He wouldn't have to swim up the entire pillar, either—he thought he could start by climbing it before passing into the rock.

"How are you going to manage that?" Teba asked, looking at him imperiously.

Link merely smiled at the Rito and moved over to the pillar, which had to be at least ten feet wide. His eyes traveled up the weathered surface, identifying several routes he could take to begin the climb. As he stood there, however, another idea occurred to him.

Instead of reaching for a handhold, Link instead placed his palm on the brick. When he'd slipped through the wall of the monster fortress, he'd been able to do so once he realized that the whole was made up of multiple parts. He had to focus on passing through everything. This time, he only focused on passing through one thing.

A single brick.

His fingers curled, entering the stone as though it were water. Its surface rippled with greenish light, and Link wondered if it were his hand that was becoming incorporeal or the brick itself.

Carefully, he set his hand onto the brick just beneath the one he reached through, trying hard to will it not to give. And this one, as if responding to his will alone, remained solid while the brick just above it still rippled as his fingers moved.

A grin formed on Link's lips, and he reached up with his other hand, reaching into another brick and forming a handhold from the one beneath it. His feet followed, slipping into some stone while standing firmly on others. It didn't matter that he wore gloves or his boots—his power seemed to work just fine with them as it did without.

"What in the skies above are you doing?" Teba asked, stepping up to the wall.

Link was only eye level with him—he hadn't climbed more than a couple of feet. He smiled at Teba and shrugged. "It's something Rauru gave me." Then he pushed one arm further into the wall to demonstrate.

"Oh, wow," Tulin said, eyes wide. "That's incredible, Link!"

"And you're going to climb all the way up like this?" Teba said.

Link nodded. "That's the idea. I'll meet you at the top."

Tulin laughed, spreading his wings and shooting into the air. He circled the pillar in a tight spiral before slipping out of sight.

Teba grunted, following his son before fixing his gaze on Link again. "Yell for us if you need help." Then he, too, took off, climbing to a higher altitude more slowly than his son and with greater effort.

Link watched him briefly before turning his attention back to the wall in front of him. "Okay… Here we go."

He began to climb.

With his abilities, the climb wasn't difficult, and as he ascended, the act of slipping his fingers and feet in and out of the stone grew easier. The physical effort of climbing was still certainly more difficult than it had been for him before losing his arm, but so much of the challenge in climbing was in finding good hand and footholds.

Tulin reappeared, gliding down and circling the pillar. "Almost there! We'll be able to get to the next island no problem from above."

Link flashed the younger Rito a smile and looked up to see that he had nearly reached the underside of the platform. Next would be the more difficult and intimidating part of this effort. It was one thing to treat a solid object like liquid, but swimming through it?

He reached the top and took a deep breath before reaching straight up and through the ceiling. At first, it felt like he was reaching into nothing. He found no purchase; no handholds. His hand penetrated the ceiling, but it slipped back out just as easily.

He took a deep breath, focusing, expecting his hand to find resistance. And then there it was. He felt solid stone gripped in his hand, like the rung of a ladder. Carefully, he reached up with his other hand, finding purchase more easily now.

Now he hung precariously on the wall. Both of his arms were extended up and into the ceiling while his feet still perched on the wall. A strong wind gusted, and he felt his foot slip. For a moment, he imagined falling—simply losing his grip on the stone and brickwork and plummeting some fifty feet back to the very solid ground below.

He felt his hand drop several inches, and he banished that thought. Focus, he told himself, gritting his teeth. And then, after taking one last breath, he pulled himself up, into the ceiling—and utter darkness.

Immediately, he felt a stab of panic. Link was not someone ruled by fear. Throughout his life, he'd learned how to confront even his worst fears, pushing through the strongest desire to lock up. That ability to move even when his body demanded he freeze had saved his life dozens, if not hundreds, of times over.

It likely saved him again now, for plunging his head up into the enveloping darkness, where there was no light, no air, and nothing to tell him which way was up or down was surely one of the most horrific things he could remember doing. The idea of being entombed in stone—unable to find his way out, suffocating in darkness, surrounded by nothing but cold rock—it terrified him.

He felt his feet dangling beneath him. He'd lost his foothold on the wall, and his lower half kicked feebly in the open air. He fought down the rush of terror, focusing on the need to move. To climb. To rise.

He pulled himself up into the stone completely, feet slipping through the rock, which rippled with that greenish hue before settling again into solid stone. Outside, Tulin watched, amazed, as Link disappeared, and then he quickly flew back up to the top of the platform to wait for him.

Once fully encased, Link tried hard to think of the stone as a liquid. He was just swimming up from a deep pool of water—up towards the light and air once more. Except he couldn't see any hint of that overhead.

He kicked his legs and passed further into the stone. It didn't feel like water, exactly. In some ways, it felt more viscous, like trying to swim through molasses. At other times, it felt far less substantial—barely more than air.

Should it be taking this long to reach the top? How thick was the platform? He should have confirmed that with the Rito before trying this. He hadn't gotten turned around, had he? Was he still swimming straight up? What if he was swimming horizontally? He had no way of knowing. Should he just drop? As long as he hadn't gone far, maybe he could catch hold of the wall again before he fell.

His lungs burned. Why couldn't he hold his breath for long? Surely, he'd only been in the stone for a few seconds, hadn't he? It felt like it had been so much longer.

He pushed on, though his mind and body fought to freeze. And then, suddenly, his fingers felt something cold. An icy breeze that he could feel, despite his thick gloves. There!

He gripped the stone and pulled, kicking his feet a few more times until his head broke the surface. He gasped sharply, filling his lungs with thin, icy air, and opened his eyes to a blinding light. The storm billowed and swirled overhead, and snow blew all around. Two Rito stood, watching him with wide eyes.

With a grunt of effort, Link pushed himself up the rest of the way, pulling his legs out of the floor and setting his feet back on solid ground. His legs shook slightly as he stood, but he smiled at the Rito.

"Are you all right?" Teba asked.

"How did you do that?" Tulin said, clapping his wings together.

Link took a few more deep breaths of the crisp air before shaking his head. "I honestly don't know. I'm just… glad it worked."

Teba frowned. "Was that in question?"

"I knew it could be done, but I'm still getting a handle on these abilities. That was the first time I'd done that on my own."

"It was crazy!" Tulin said, laughing. "You've got to show me that again. How did you make all your gear go with you? Could you take someone else with you, too?"

"Tulin." Teba gave his son a sharp look. "Take it easy. Give him a chance to breathe."

"Oh." The feathers around Tulin's neck puffed out slightly, embarrassed. "Right."

Link smiled at Teba and then Tulin. "It's all right. I'm still figuring it all out, myself. But I'll tell you as I figure it out."

Tulin gave him a bright look, relaxing. "We should be able to get to the next island easily from here. We probably need to use the ropes this time, though—there's a big updraft at the next island and I think it could shoot you off like an arrow if we're not careful."

Link nodded and patted the harness around his waist. "Let's keep going. No reason to delay now." He looked up at the storm cloud overhead. "We've got a long way to go."

"Indeed." Teba reached out and took the length of rope as Link proffered it. "Doubt it's going to get any easier, either. There are some steep climbs ahead."

"I just swam through solid stone. I figure it can't get much more challenging than that." He grinned at the Rito, who rolled his eyes before tossing one side of the rope to Tulin.

"Let's just get moving."

The two Rito positioned themselves at the edge of the platform with Link between them. Like before, they each held a length of rope that connected to his harness. He held the paraglider in his hands, careful not to let it get caught by a stray gust of wind.

When all three were set, they took off just like before, leaping from the precipice. Link held aloft his paraglider and, almost immediately, he felt a gust jerk him to the side. Tulin and Teba appeared prepared for that, however, turning and flying with the wind's direction rather than against it. The rope pulled taut, and suddenly Link was propelled forward again, fighting to keep the paraglider level.

The wind howled, and snow bit the exposed skin around his eyes like sharp pinpricks. Twice more as they crossed the gap between the two islands, they were hit with crosswind gusts, but each time, the two Rito managed to counteract it with skill that Link hadn't seen in a hundred years.

For all that Tulin was an expert flier, Teba was no slouch either. He followed his son's lead with precision, banking, rising, and diving at nearly simultaneously. It was beautiful to watch, and he could tell that the two Rito were enjoying it as well.

They looked at each other as their wingtips nearly touched, and while Link couldn't see either of their expressions, he was certain that Teba looked on with pride.

Then, ahead of them, several winged creatures emerged from behind the floating island. Huge leathery wings, bulging eyes and wide mouths, long tails—these were the creatures that Tulin had chased the day before. Aerocudas, or so Link thought, based on the pictures he remembered seeing as a child.

There were three of them, and all of them flew straight towards Link and the Rito.

He wasn't sure if any words passed between Teba and Tulin, but they both banked to the left and down, dragging Link along in their wake. All at once, the air grew choppy, causing Link's stomach to drop as the paraglider was jolted to the side and then suddenly up, caught by the shifting winds of the storm.

The creatures gave a cry, and one of them came straight at Link, folding its wings and barreling towards him like an arrow in flight. He cursed and tried to adjust his flight path to avoid colliding, but a moment later, he was forcibly pulled down again. The aerocuda passed just overhead.

Beneath him, Teba and Tulin continued to fly in formation, holding tightly to the rope connecting them to Link. An aerocuda dove towards them just as the other had done to Link, but the Rito parted, opening the gap between them enough that the amphibian-looking creature passed harmlessly between them.

The other tried to intercept them, but again, they wove around it and turned, speeding towards the island again. Flying with Link in tow, they couldn't fight back, but if they could reach the island and set him down, they could start wielding their bows.

The aerocudas made more piercing cries, and the one that had missed Link came for him again. It flapped its huge wings to regain altitude, but a gust of wind caught it, pushing it back and forcing it to turn, flying in a wide circle to loop back around towards him. The other two were recovering as well, angling back towards the Rito.

"Watch out!" Link cried, though his voice was lost to the winds.

Teba and Tulin each banked to avoid the aerocudas, but this time they did so in opposing directions. The ropes in their talons each grew taut, and Tulin lost the grip on his. At the same time, the winds shifted for Link once more, and he felt himself plummet several feet as he was hit by a downburst.

Tulin recovered quickly, spinning through the air to avoid another of the flying monsters and raking its back with his extended talons before flapping his wings with enough force to send the aerocuda into a tailspin. The young Rito shot back towards Teba and the loose rope flapping in the wind.

Before he could reach the rope, however, Teba was hit by another gust of wind, shoving him hard to the side. Link heard the older Rito cry out as if he'd been hit, and Teba flapped hard to regain control of his flight.

The aerocuda that had been coming back around for Link struck. It slammed into him with enough force to take the wind from his lungs. His wrists, strapped in place to prevent his grip from slipping, screamed in pain at the sudden force upon them. The aerocuda grappled with him, grabbing onto his cloak with its frog-like appendages and lunging for his face with its teeth.

He twisted and managed to slam his forehead into the side of the creature's face. Stars burst into being in Link's vision, and the aerocuda made a pained bark, pulling back but not releasing him from its grip.

Groaning, Link tried to kick it off, but with his wrists secured to the paraglider and the creature hanging onto the front of his cloak, his options were limited. He could get his wrists free of the cords securing him to the glider's handholds, but that hardly seemed a better option.

The aerocuda reared back again, baring its rows of sharp teeth, and Link swore, thrashing in an attempt to throw it off. And then, suddenly, it stiffened, releasing his cloak, and falling limply.

Tulin shot past a moment later, his bow carried in his talons, another arrow held in his beak. The Rito did a tight loop around the rope still connecting Link to Teba and, with one smooth motion, lifted the bow with his feet and somehow nocked the arrow, gripping the string with his beak. He straightened out his body, drawing the bow back, and launched another arrow at a second aerocuda.

This shot also struck true, piercing the creature's wing straight through and causing it to cry out in pain. It lost control, spinning as it flapped its wings, trying to right itself. It nearly managed to right itself before another gust struck it. Its injured wing bent back, and though Link couldn't hear the crack over the roar of the wind, he saw the bones in it snap. It went down.

Unfortunately, that same wind caught his paraglider and flung him to the side. He briefly spun out of control, facing the wrong way, until his rope grew taught and yanked him back around. He heard Teba cry out, and when Link turned, he saw that the Rito flapped hard while still holding the rope but clearly couldn't counteract the wind's push.

"Let go!" Link called, suddenly fearful that what he witnessed happen to the aerocuda might happen to his friend. "Teba, let go of the rope!"

Teba didn't. Perhaps he couldn't hear Link, or perhaps he was just too stubborn—either way, he pressed on, flapping his wings as he was towed backwards by Link's paraglider.

Link struggled to grab hold of the paraglider's handholds again, rather than hanging on by the wrist restraints. If he could get control over it again, maybe he could angle it in such a way that it wasn't pushed so hard by the wind. Right now, he was flapping in the wind like a kite, the glider angled back so it caught the full brunt of the storm's gusts.

He got one hand in place, but the constant jostling had only seemed to make things worse for Teba. Though he still flapped his wings, Link could tell that he was flagging. The strain of fighting against the storm while dragging Link along in his wake was too much for him.

Teba looked back and met Link's eyes. Link saw pain there and concern. He called out again, telling Teba to release the rope, but the Rito looked away and seemed to redouble his efforts.

Tulin flew by, but his attention was on the last remaining aerocuda. He shot an arrow, but this shot went wide, pushed to the side by the wind. The aerocuda, in turn, dove for Tulin, forcing the younger Rito to dart to the side.

"Tulin!" Link called, but again his voice was swept away by the wind. "Dammit!"

He struggled to grab hold of the other handhold on the glider, again jostling the glider and Teba both, but finally wrapped his fingers around the wooden pole. Finally! He immediately shifted his weight on the glider, angling its nose down and into the wind. It appeared to help, as Teba managed to stop being dragged backwards.

Tulin, noticing Teba's struggles, called something to him that Link didn't catch. He was unable to help, however, due to the last remaining aerocuda, which tried to grab onto him with its feet while he was distracted. Tulin banked hard to the side to avoid the reptilian creature and then shot off ahead of it, faster by far.

Tulin spun in the air, turning his body around so that he was flying backwards, facing the aerocuda. For several seconds, the two fliers remained like that, facing each other while navigating the terrible winds of the storm.

Then something happened that Link didn't understand.

Tulin spread his wings and then brought them together in the aerocuda's direction, and the flying monster suddenly looked as though it had flown into an invisible wall. It struggled to maintain forward momentum, fighting against a sudden, strong gust that seemed to originate from Tulin's wings.

Tulin shot off like an arrow, propelled in the opposite direction by the same force, spinning in the air to face forward again and diving towards Teba. As he did so, Link kept his eyes on the aerocuda, fascinated by the display. It still fought a powerful force pushing it back, and Link thought he could see evidence of the gust—a column amid the snow-filled air where the snow all blew in a different direction, towards the aerocuda.

And suddenly, a heavy crosswind from the storm cloud struck. Link's paraglider was positioned so that he wasn't as affected by the blast of icy air, but the aerocuda wasn't nearly so fortunate. It struck perpendicular to Tulin's gust, and the creature's wings folded, one bending backwards so sharply that Link thought he might have even heard the bone snap. The aerocuda screeched in pain and crumpled, falling towards the peaks below.

"Hold on, Dad!" Tulin cried, flying towards the loose rope he'd lost his grip on earlier. He got hold of it with one foot while his other still maintained its hold on his bow and flew forward to get into formation with Teba.

The younger Rito guided the three of them to the side where the wind suddenly seemed less hostile and turned them back towards the floating island they'd had as their destination. Though the two Rito flew side-by-side, Link could tell that Tulin was the one actually pulling him along while Teba merely fought to keep pace with his son.

Landing on the island was a challenge. The storm's winds formed a powerful updraft on the island's windward side, creating a great deal of turbulence as Link's paraglider entered the airspace just over the island. The two Rito continued, pulling him down, below the worst of the winds, and he angled his glider to descend.

The two Rito landed hard on the brickwork, and he followed a few seconds later, falling to his knees as soon as he touched down, holding his paraglider before him to keep it from being caught by another gust. Teba collapsed onto his side, breathing hard, and Tulin immediately ran to his side.

Getting free of the leather straps binding his wrists to the paraglider was typically difficult without assistance, but this time, Link did so with barely a thought, using his Zonai abilities to allow his hand to pass through the leather and wood without resistance. He folded his paraglider, sliding it into its carrying case, and then hurried forward as well.

"Teba! Are you all right?"

Teba groaned, eyes closed, laying on his back, chest rising and falling rapidly. He didn't respond.

Tulin glanced at Link, worried, and then looked back at Teba. "Dad?"

After a few seconds of labored breathing, Teba's eyes opened, and he attempted to push himself upright with his wings. His right wing gave out almost immediately. He settled back with a groan of pain, reaching over to clutch his right wing with his left.

"Dammit," he muttered, looking up into the overcast sky. "My wing's done."

"Same as yesterday?" Link asked.

Teba nodded. "I should have rested it longer. Even a fledgling knows not to fly on a hurt wing."

"But—" Tulin started, but then cut himself off, clicking his beak. "Do you think your wing will be okay? I'm sorry for not—"

Teba turned a sharp look on him. "Don't." He began to try to push himself up with his one good wing, and Link helped him. When Teba was upright, he looked again at Tulin. "You flew incredibly out there today, son."

"But your wing! If I hadn't let go of the rope, then maybe—"

The older Rito snorted. "You were right to keep those things off us. If you hadn't, we would have been sitting ducks."

"But how are we going to keep going?" Tulin asked, looking at Link briefly before looking again at his father.

"We won't." Teba fixed his eyes on Tulin. "But you will—and Link. You two are going to keep going and leave me here to rest. After a day or two, I should be able to glide back down to the village."

Tulin's eyes widened. "But—you want me to—Dad, I don't—"

Teba chuckled. "How many times did you demand I let you investigate the storm, and now that I'm telling you to do it, you're wavering? Kid, do you just look for ways to argue with me?"

Tulin's beak snapped shut. He looked towards Link, lacking any of the confidence he'd shown earlier.

Link hesitated, looking from Teba to Tulin. "I agree. We still need to investigate that storm and figure out what's causing it."

"But the winds—"

Teba snorted. "Give me a break. I wasn't helping at all there at the end—that was all you. You can clearly pull Link along by yourself. If anyone can get up there, it's going to be you."

"You really think that?"

"I know you can." Teba grunted and reached out with his left wing, placing it on Tulin's shoulder. "You're going to be one of the finest warriors the Rito have ever seen. Just don't forget that you aren't alone out there. Work with Link, and I know you'll be fine."

The older Rito turned his gaze on Link, and despite his confident words to his son, Link could see worry in his expression. "And you. Take care of my son. Get to the bottom of this and put an end to it."

Link nodded. "I will, Teba." He glanced at Tulin. "We will."

"You're sure you'll be able to fly back down?" Tulin asked.

Teba took several moments to reply. "I'll be fine. It's just a sprain. Leave me some water and food, and I'll shelter here for a while. Getting down isn't the hard part."

Link wasn't sure if he believed the Rito's words. Depending on the severity of the sprain, the recovery could take much longer than a day or two, and the winds here wouldn't make gliding down easy.

Tulin didn't look entirely convinced either, but after a few moments of consideration, he nodded. "Okay. We'll keep going, Dad. We'll figure this out."

Teba smiled. "I know you will."

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen: Skies Over Hebra

"He's a headstrong boy, Link. Try to make sure he doesn't go flying off on his own. Bring him home."

Teba's words rang out in Link's head as he glided across the gap between two floating islands, pulled along by Tulin. They had left the older Rito behind on the previous island with assurances that they would return to the island on the way back to make sure he got down safely. Though Teba assured them both that he'd be fine, Link couldn't shake the feeling that they were saying goodbye.

Be safe, Teba, he thought, glancing back at the island they'd left. His friend stood at the island's edge, watching them stoically as they flew on without him.

Ahead and below, Tulin flew. Rather than gripping the rope pulling Link in his talons, they had instead formed a harness that looped around his shoulders. That way, he could potentially still use his bow in an emergency without releasing Link. If it was strictly necessary, he could still free himself quickly and move on.

The wind gusted, and Tulin turned to benefit from the wind's direction, flapping his wings and quickly gaining altitude. Despite his smaller frame, he did not appear to have the same difficulty pulling Link alone that his father had, though Link assumed that was more because of his innate ability to read the winds and adjust for them.

Of course, there was also what Link had seen him do to the aerocuda. Revali had been able to create a powerful updraft at will while on the ground, but Tulin appeared to be able to do so while flying. The column of wind and air had remained in place for several seconds, too, continuing to push the aerocuda back just long enough. He wondered if Tulin had known the storm would gust then, or if that had just been a fortunate turn of events.

He looked up, eyeing the massive column of swirling snow. This close up, the storm was intimidating in its size and ferocity. Though Tulin navigated the changes in wind and pressure masterfully, Link felt completely helpless. His hands were bound to the paraglider to keep him from losing his grip, but even if they weren't, he could not have used them for anything but holding on.

Link remembered conversations with Zelda about possibilities for other flying machines. She'd theorized about attaching something like the propellers that adorned Divine Beast Vah Medoh or the flying Guardians to something like the paraglider and using that to fly freely in the air.

He sincerely wished Zelda or Purah had gotten around to developing such a machine. He imagined this could have been a very different experience in that case. I'm going to harass Purah into making that next, he thought, grimacing. I'll test it if she wants, but there's got to be a better way to get around in the air than this.

He felt their trajectory shift and glanced down to see Tulin making for another floating island. They had passed by quite a few of them, and Link was grateful for the break. His shoulders hurt terribly after hanging limply from them.

This time, they hadn't been accosted by any more of those flying aerocudas, and Link wondered if they were entering territory that the creatures might not be able to navigate. He hoped Tulin could, at least, considering the wind alone had killed two of the creatures.

When his feet touched down, he didn't bother waiting for Tulin to help him get out of the wrist restraints, instead using his powers to free himself again. He was growing more comfortable with that ability—a fact that he was immensely grateful for. Of the different abilities he'd gained from Rauru, that was the one that had the greatest potential to prove to be a disaster for him.

"Tulin, how are you—"

"Look!" Tulin was craning his neck up, pointing into the sky with his wing. "Can you see it, too?"

Link turned to follow his gaze, frowning up at the grey sky overhead. The snow fell heavily here, making it difficult to make out much other than a couple of fuzzy shapes of different islands floating around them.

"What are you seeing?"

Tulin looked at him and then back up at the sky. He quickly shed his harness. "I'll be right back."

"Wait, what? Where are you going?"

"I have to see!" And without giving Link another chance to speak, he took off, shooting high into the air. Link lost sight of him in seconds, hidden by the endless grey white of the storm.

He swore, gritting his teeth and feeling something of Teba's frustration with the youth. Link could remember being young and prone to rushing bullheadedly into situations he didn't understand, but that didn't change the fact that he was stranded on a flying island high above the ground. The air was frigid and thin—

Wait.

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs. The air was frigid, but he didn't find himself struggling quite as much to breathe as he had been doing so on the mountain. Rather, he felt as able to breathe normally here as he'd been on that first day with the two Rito, when climbing Talonto Peak. The air was thinner than ground level, but not nearly as much when on Mount Hebra.

Wasn't that the same as when he awoke with Rauru, too? He hadn't thought much of it, then, but he had been higher than quite a few clouds. Higher than Mount Hebra's peak, perhaps? He thought he might have been.

Were the Zonai islands, then, somehow keeping the air more livable? He supposed that shouldn't shock him too much. If they could make entire landmasses fly in the air and disappear, then it wasn't outrageous that they could also find a way to keep the air from being too thin. He was just thankful that was one less thing he needed to concern himself with.

A gust of wind blew across the island, and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. "Couldn't have done anything about the cold, too?" he asked no one in particular.

There was a whoosh as Tulin suddenly dropped back out of the sky, landing in front of him, eyes wide and excited. "Link! Get out your paraglider—you've got to see this!"

"What is it?" Link immediately began to retrieve his glider, heart suddenly thudding away. Could he have found Zelda?

"You'll never believe it, but I—I found a boat!"

Tulin had, seemingly against all odds, indeed found a boat.

The small ship was wooden, with a rounded bottom, and twin pairs of oars. Its construction was made to have a bird-like appearance, from the oars that looked like feathers, the way the sides of the boat were shaped almost like a pair of folded wings, and the figurehead at its bow, which was a bird's head, stylized in a style that reminded Link of Impa's old Sheikah mural, with its strange depictions of the different races of Hyrule.

Curiously, the boat had two masts and two sails. That might not have been that unusual, except for the fact that only one sail stood upright, like that of a normal seafaring ship. The other was suspended higher in the air, joined along one edge to the other sail's yard, and hanging parallel to the deck below.

Also strange was the fact that the ship, like everything else up here, was suspended in midair by absolutely nothing.

Both sails billowed in the wind, and the ship rocked slightly, but didn't budge from its spot. It floated next to some of the fin-like overhangs that he'd seen on previous islands, and it finally clicked why those looked oddly familiar to him. They were docks.

"I can't believe it," Tulin said, walking down the length of the dock, looking wide-eyed at the boat. "It's really a boat. Just like the old legends!"

Link took out the Purah Pad, thinking of Zelda's love of taking photographs with it, and snapped a few pictures of the sky boat. Though I suppose if she flew up here, she probably already saw it, he thought, smiling.

Tulin spun around to look at Link. "It's got to be true, right? The legend? Do you really think the Stormwind Ark is in there? I always thought it was just a tale for chicks and fledglings."

"I thought the same about aerocudas until yesterday." Link stepped forward along the dock, examining the boat. "It's just floating here, like the islands. It's not even tied down."

Tulin flapped his wings, hopping the short gap between the dock and the boat with ease. The boat jostled slightly but otherwise remained still. Link considered and then jumped over to it as well, boots landing with a muted sound on the wooden deck. The boat shuddered, creaking faintly.

The deck was all one level with no visible door or way down into the hold—if the ship even had one. There was no wheel, nor any rigging that Link could see, though he did see some green and gold metallic trim on the ship's masts, connected to the sails' spars. There was also some kind of pole to the rear of the deck that stood straight up before forking into two parallel prongs.

"Oh, what's that?" Tulin asked, moving over to it.

Link followed him. Behind the stick was a round disk platform, just large enough for a person to stand on, and raised up from the deck by a couple of inches. It had stylized feet emblazoned on its green surface in gold, each foot with five overly long toes. It looked just like the hand symbols that Link had seen on Zonai equipment.

"I think it might be used to steer the ship," Link said, thoughtful. He wondered if he could activate whatever this was by the nature of his Zonai arm, just as he'd done on the Great Sky Island. "Be ready to act if something goes wrong." He hoped that in attempting to activate it, he wouldn't inadvertently send the ship in a free fall.

He stepped onto the disk and lined up his feet with the stylized footprints. Nothing happened. He reached out, taking the twin prongs in his hands, finding subtle grooves in the surface that fit his fingers nearly perfectly. Still nothing happened.

Link pushed on the stick, and it tilted forward, but the ship did not respond in any way that he could tell. He tried other directions, back and side to side, and each time the stick moved easily, and each time, the ship remained resolutely unresponsive.

He even tried taking his boots off, exposing his bare feet to the bitter cold, to stand on the metallic surface and touch it with his skin. Once more, nothing happened, and he quickly put his boots back on. The metal had felt like a sheet of ice under his toes.

"So it doesn't work?" Tulin said.

Link moved over to sit down on the deck with his back against the side of the ship, shielding himself from the wind for a time. "It doesn't look like it, or I'm just missing something. Maybe that's not what that stick is for at all."

Tulin tried his hand at it, standing on the platform and moving the stick about, but despite this and the wind that gusted through the sails, the boat remained almost perfectly still, save for lightly rocking in the wind. The Rito finally gave up and flew up with a flap of his wings to examine the sails before diving off the side of the boat to look at its underside.

Link didn't stop him. It felt good to just sit here for a time, sheltered from the wind. While the air wasn't nearly as thin as he'd expected it would be, the constant moving and hanging onto his paraglider by his hands was taking its toll on him. And the cold was easily bad enough that he had to worry about the possibility of frostbite or hypothermia, even with the well-insulated Rito clothing.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the hull, and huddled further into his cloak. He very nearly dozed off before being woken as Tulin touched down again. The youth sat down next to him, drawing his legs up and wrapping his wings around them, and together they both sat in silence for a while before Tulin broke it.

"Do you think Dad's all right?"

Link looked at him. "I'm sure he is. Teba's one of the toughest people I know. I once saw him dive straight in and attack the biggest lynel I've ever seen to protect some friends of mine."

"I remember hearing about that!" Tulin said, eyes wide. "That was when he broke his wing, right?"

Link nodded, remembering back to that fight in the center of Hateno Village's main street. Teba's actions very nearly cost him his life—it was nothing less than a miracle that he made it out with only a broken wing—but he'd acted without hesitation.

"I wish he could have kept going with us," Tulin said. "I think he'd like to see this ship, and if the Stormwind Ark really is in the storm…" He trailed off, frowning. "Was it my fault he got hurt?"

"Why would it have been your fault?"

"I'm the one who lost his grip on the rope when those things ambushed us. If I'd held on tighter, then he wouldn't have had to try to pull you along alone."

Link frowned. He could understand all too well the guilt one felt when they made it out of a battle unscathed while others weren't so fortunate. "One of you would have had to let go, I think. Those things were pretty relentless."

"Maybe I should have just let him fight them, then. I could have kept going with you and gotten you to safety and then went back to help, if he needed it."

That probably could have worked, Link thought. Tulin had clearly shown himself capable of navigating the winds alone. That wasn't something to say now, however.

"You were there when your father most needed you. He probably would have broken his wing and ended up like those aerocudas had you not been there when you were." Link smiled encouragingly. "Besides—you really did do a great job of taking those things down. Some of the best archery I've seen in more than a hundred years."

Tulin gave him a surprised look before smiling. "I always forget that you're so old."

"Hey! I was asleep for most of that."

"You're the one who just talked about seeing things a hundred years ago."

"That doesn't count. I basically just skipped a hundred years—that doesn't make me old. Not really, anyway."

"If you say so," Tulin said, sounding unconvinced. "Still sounds pretty old to me."

"Whatever you said, fledgling." Link grinned as Tulin gave him a withering glare. His smile faded quickly, and he looked up towards the sky overhead. "How long do you think it will take us to get up there?"

"I don't know. The wind does some funny things as you get higher. I think the storm must reverse its direction higher up."

Link considered Tulin. "How do you know? Have you flown up there?"

Frowning, Tulin shook his head. "No, I never made it nearly this high before. But I can…" He looked at Link, looking suddenly a little embarrassed. "This is going to sound weird, but it's like I can feel the wind."

"Before it blows?"

"Yes and no. It's more like I just know it. Almost like I can feel what it feels. That's how I knew this ship was here! I couldn't really see it because of the snow, but wind felt different. I could tell there was something other than the island up here."

"Is that common for Rito?" Link asked, despite suspecting he knew the answer.

Tulin looked down. "I've never heard anyone else talk like this about the wind." After a moment, he continued. "Some of us are better about knowing how to respond to the wind. Dad's one of the best fliers we have, and he can react to changes in the wind faster than just about anyone else in the village."

"But it's not the same, is it?"

Again, Tulin shook his head. "No. It's like… I don't ever have to react. Does that make sense?"

"I…"

"I don't have to react, because I already know what the wind will do. I understand it."

"You anticipate it."

"Yes! I can anticipate it." Tulin looked at him, wide-eyed. "I can anticipate it because I understand how it flows."

"Has it always been this way for you?"

Tulin considered for a time. "No… No, not really. I've always been a good flier, ever since I was a fledg—" He paused, giving Link a warning look before continuing. "But it feels like everything changed just a few weeks ago."

That made Link sit up straighter. "When the islands appeared?"

"Yes! At first, it was just little things, but it's been getting stronger, and now—" He cut off, looking embarrassed again.

"What?"

"I…" His feathers had puffed out some around his neck—a sign of his anxiety. "I think the wind is talking to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… I've been hearing a voice in the wind. At first, I couldn't really understand it, but the higher we get, the clearer it's becoming."

"What's it saying?"

"Keep climbing. Come to the center of the storm."

Link had heard a surprisingly high number of disembodied voices in the past. When he woke from his slumber in the chamber of resurrection, the first voice he'd heard had been Zelda's, even though she was miles away, in the castle with Calamity Ganon. Since then, he'd heard and spoken to ancient Sheikah in shrines, spoken to spirits of the dead, and even heard his sword giving him tips in battle.

He had to know.

"Does it sound like Zelda?"

"No… I think it sounds like a man. It was kind of hard to tell at first, but I'm pretty sure it's not her."

Link wasn't sure how to feel. If Zelda was talking to Tulin, it would be a relief in some ways, but it would also raise so many more questions. The first being, why isn't she talking to me?

"And that began while we were still climbing the mountain?" Link remembered when Tulin had commented about thinking he heard a voice that neither he nor Teba had.

Tulin nodded, falling silent. The boy seemed to be troubled, and Link could relate. What in Hylia's name was going on here?

It was like a window had been opened beneath them, giving Link a brief, but beautiful view of the landscape around them, and the sight was absolutely breathtaking.

He and Tulin had been climbing for hours now, effectively hopping from one floating platform or island to the next. Twice more, Link had used his Zonai powers to pass through the structures, and each time was as uncomfortable as the last, though it was certainly growing easier for him to control.

It was difficult to tell the time, but he expected it must have been getting late in the afternoon. Both he and Tulin were exhausted, needing to take frequent breaks, and he worried about the young Rito straining his muscles, just as his father had.

It was during one of those breaks that the air cleared just enough to give Link the sight. The wind shifted, and like a curtain being drawn, the snow lessened, and Link saw all of Hyrule stretch out before him.

They were facing southeast, having circled the entire storm, and when the air cleared, he could see all the way to the Gerudo desert. The highlands looked like stepping stones, and the Great Plateau looked like a pedestal. He could see the Dueling Peaks, though from this distance, the gap between the two mountains looked like a simple fissure, rather than a pass wide enough for a caravan to drive through.

Hyrule Castle was tiny, and from Link's height and angle, he couldn't even tell that it was lifted off the ground. Though there were clouds over Hebra, he could see that it was a clear day elsewhere in Hyrule from the way the land was lit by the sun.

The curtain closed, his view replaced again by the endless grey-white of the blizzard's snow. It was a marvel, however, just to see how high they'd climbed. They looked to be higher than many of the other Zonai floating islands throughout Hyrule, too, based on Link's brief glimpse, as well as some low-lying clouds.

"Oh, wow," Tulin said. "I've never flown anywhere close to this high before."

Link kept his eyes on the shifting haze of the storm for a time before looking back at Tulin, who sat next to him with his back against a low wall. "Think we're close to the top?"

"We're a lot closer now. The wind has shifted a lot, and we've been passing more and more into the cloud layer now. But it's hard to tell just how high it really goes."

Link nodded slowly. The winds had grown far more turbulent in the last couple of hours. This, Tulin explained, was because they'd entered the section of the storm where the winds transitioned from flowing in one direction and reversed to flow in the other. It also transitioned from a subtle pull towards the storm to more of an outflow.

Tulin had managed it well, finding the corridors for him and Link to pass through, but the climb had still been difficult, and more than once Link's paraglider was caught in a gust that Tulin hadn't been prepared for, forcing them to make quick corrections to get back on track.

They had passed a few more of those boats, too, all seemingly inert, but maintaining their fixed locations in the air. They tried to activate a couple of them but quickly gave up. For whatever reason, these Zonai ships were able to remain aloft but did not seem able to be moved from their locations.

"How are your wings?"

Tulin glanced at him and then shrugged. "I'm okay. I can keep going." Link fixed him with a stern look, and Tulin puffed up some. "I can! Give me a few more minutes and I'll be ready to go again. I want to try to get to the top before it gets dark."

Link didn't argue with him, but he also didn't encourage him to keep going. His own shoulders were incredibly sore, along with his forearms and hands. More than once, he had been saved by the leather straps holding him in place when his grip on the paraglider's poles failed.

The air was crisp and frigid, though not as bad as Link had thought it would be. He wasn't sure if that was because of the same Zonai technology that kept the air breathable, or if the temperature just stopped dropping as one climbed higher in the air. It was still plenty cold enough that frostbite was a concern, but their frequent breaks gave them both a chance to warm up while sheltered from the wind.

"Do you still think there are ships moving up there?"

Again, Tulin looked up. "I think so. It's a lot easier to feel when the ships are stationary, but there's definitely something moving with the wind higher up."

Link nodded. He felt more than a little trepidation at the thought of things moving about this high up. Were they about to stumble upon an unknown group of Zonai flying about above the world? Could it be Ganondorf and his minions? Something else entirely? Link didn't want to discount any possibility, lest they be caught off guard again.

"Are you ready?" Tulin asked, several minutes later, and Link nodded. Together, they both stood, readying themselves for the next leg of their journey, and soon they were flying through the air once more.

Link's paraglider shuddered as it hit a patch of turbulence, and the jostling made his shoulder flare with discomfort. He grimaced and adjusted his grip, which already felt loose, as Tulin angled sharply up, pulling Link around another of the floating islands before switching back and flying in the opposite direction.

He was used to this now and just held on as Tulin found the next wind corridor he could use to gain better altitude. They passed through a cloud and then another, the air moist and cold against his patches of exposed skin.

His hand slipped, and although he tried to adjust in time, he lost his grip on the pole. His paraglider jostled as his balance was suddenly thrown off until he released his left hand as well, choosing to hold onto the leather cords instead. These might have offered him less control, but at least they were a bit more comfortable to grip.

He thought Tulin was angling for another island when something else came into view. Like the others, it was a ship floating in the air with nothing holding it aloft. The difference here was that this ship was in motion.

It flew through the air, cutting a path through the clouds and leaving a white trail in its wake. Its four oars swept back and forth, and its sails had been adjusted to best catch the wind and propel it forward.

And on its deck wasn't a living Zonai, but one of the constructs that Link first met on the Great Sky Island with Rauru. It was hard to tell from afar, but Link thought it more closely resembled the steward constructs rather than the soldiers, though he still watched cautiously as they flew toward the ship and it became more clearly visible.

The construct was floating just behind the stick that Link appeared to have correctly assumed was used to control the ship. It held onto each of the forked prongs, and as it tilted the stick to the left, he saw the ship respond accordingly.

Landing on the moving ship was not easy. With Link trailing behind Tulin, the Rito had to fly out ahead of the ship and slowly decrease his speed until the deck was under Link's feet. Once in that position, Link found himself shielded from the wind enough that the paraglider naturally descended until his feet touched down.

As soon as he was secure, Tulin freed himself of the rope and swung back around, coming back to land as Link stowed the rope.

"What's that?" Tulin asked, eyeing the construct, which hadn't acknowledged their presence.

"It's something called a Zonai construct," Link said. "I met a few of them up on the big island I woke up on. This type usually didn't try to kill me."

The steward was, indeed, the only visible other being on the flying ship. It stood—or floated—along at the control stick, and other than it, Link saw nothing else on the deck of the ship that set it apart from the previous ones.

"Can we talk to it?" Tulin said, tilting his head to the side.

"I think so," Link said, stepping forward carefully. It felt strange to have a moving platform beneath his feet. The ship clearly had to deal with the same turbulence and unpredictability of the winds up here that he and Tulin had to, and the deck jostled as the construct moved the control stick to change its course slightly.

Link didn't particularly like the feeling. It reminded him too much of standing atop Vah Medoh as the Divine Beast flew through the air. He'd nearly fallen off that contraption too many times.

As Link and Tulin approached, the construct's head turned to fix them with its single red eye. "Please do not attempt to hijack my ship."

Link raised an eyebrow. "Okay. We won't."

"Thank you." The construct turned its eye to face forward again.

"Wow," Tulin said, moving closer and watching the machine with wide eyes. "What are you doing up here?"

The construct looked at him. "Patrolling."

"Patrolling for what?"

"Danger."

Link and Tulin met each other's eyes before Link spoke again. "How long have you been up here?"

"Since I was created."

"Which was how long ago?"

The construct paused, seeming to consider his words. Finally, it said in an even more lifeless tone, "Unknown."

Link sighed and looked at Tulin. "Same as the ones up on the big island. It's like it's been so long that they can no longer tell the time."

"It is the eighteenth minute of the sixth hour after midday," the construct said.

Link frowned at the construct and then looked back at Tulin, who grinned at him before saying, "Where've you been all this time?"

"In my ship."

"Right, but where have you been? How did you get here?"

The construct paused and then repeated, "In my ship."

"But where was your ship?" Link said.

The construct looked at him. "Above the clouds."

Link frowned. "But what about when there weren't any clouds?"

The construct continued to look at him. "Above the clouds."

"Okay," Link said. "Above what clouds, then? Where?"

"In the sky."

Link let out an annoyed grunt, and Tulin laughed before saying, "Oh! What time is it now?"

"It is the nineteenth minute of the sixth hour past midday, Master Rito."

"Master Rito?" Tulin said, eyes widening. "I like the sound of that. Hey, can you tell us how high up we are now?"

"We are at an altitude of approximately four-point-one miles, or twenty-one thousand, six hundred, and fifty-two feet."

"Oh, damn," Tulin said, sounding breathless. He looked at Link with wide eyes. "That's—that's high, Link. Way higher than I've ever even heard of someone flying. Some types of birds can, but not Rito."

"Do you know what's causing the storm?" Link said, turning his attention back on the construct.

The construct whirred softly and took a surprisingly long time to answer. "Unknown. Current conditions are similar to those caused by the beast Colgera, but the likelihood of that is exceedingly low due to its demise."

"Colgera?" Tulin asked.

"Yes. It was a flying beast made of ice that brought such cold that it made the land freeze beneath it."

Link frowned. "And it was killed?"

"Yes. With the creation of the Stormwind Ark, the Rito were able to destroy it and bring the eternal blizzard to an end."

"Oh, skies," Tulin said, breathlessly. "Oh, skies and stars and—it's real, Link! The Stormwind Ark is really—it's real!" He leaped into the air and spun around three times before touching back down. "Wait! That's what's in the storm, right? The Stormwind Ark?"

"That is correct, Master Rito."

"And can you take us there?" Link asked, hoping for the chance to get there quickly and give both his arms and Tulin's wings a rest.

The construct whirred softly, moving its head on its long neck to look at Link and then turning it to look at Tulin.

"Yes."

The sunlight nearly blinded Link the moment they broke above the layer of clouds. For as far as Link could see, white-topped clouds formed a barrier that seemed to separate the world they'd just entered from the cold darkness below. Even late in the afternoon as it was, the sun hadn't yet set below the horizon, and the sky overhead was a deep blue. Somewhere just a little further up, a flock of geese flew in their V-formation.

In the distance, a white dragon weaved through the air. It was hard to see, but Link thought it was the new dragon that he'd only seen for the first time recently. His eyes remained on that dragon for a time, watching as it rode the air currents. It was turned towards them and heading in their general direction, and he wondered what a dragon would do if it encountered them in its domain.

"Oh, wow," Tulin said, leaning against the boat's rail and looking out towards the setting sun. Wind blew through the feathers on his crest, but while it was still strong, it wasn't nearly so chaotic as it had been. "Isn't that incredible, Link? I've flown above clouds, but never like this."

Link turned his attention from the dragon—it was still very far away—and followed Tulin's gaze. It was incredible. The boat slid along the tops of the clouds, leaving swirling eddies in its wake, while distant clouds shifted with the wind. It all gave the impression of sailing along the surface of a fairly calm lake, albeit one with a giant whirlpool in its center.

For that's what was there, in the center of the sea of white, fluffy clouds. A black hole around which clouds swirled and spun. The eye of the storm—and the only real way to get into the storm's center and figure out what was happening in there.

"Look," Link said, pointing. "More ships."

Small boats like the one they flew upon circled all around the storm's eye. There was some variation among them, with many being the same size and design as this one, while others were larger with an extra pair of oars, and others looked to be smaller. They all shared the same design ethos, however, with their avian designs and twin sails set perpendicular to each other.

"What are they all doing?" Tulin said, wonder in his voice.

Though he didn't seem to be asking the construct, it answered anyway. "Patrolling."

"Patrolling for what?"

"Danger."

Tulin rolled his eyes, smiling at Link. "So are you ready?"

Link chuckled. "This isn't even the strangest thing I've experienced this week."

"Hah!" Tulin slapped his wing down on the boat's rail before spinning to look at the steward, still positioned at the control stick. "You're going to take us inside the storm, right?"

"If you still wish it. It is important to caution you that while the winds inside the eye will not be as violent as those just outside the storm, there are still hazards."

"Like what?" Link asked.

"The interior of the storm appears to have taken on the characteristics of a thunderstorm, resulting in common lightning strikes. Winds can also play a factor, particularly near the inner storm wall." The construct paused briefly before continuing. "The Stormwind Ark may also still have functional defensive measures."

"Defensive measures? Like what?"

"The Stormwind Ark has a total of three defensive cannons—two on its top deck and one on its underside."

"Oh, great." Link could remember contending with the defensive cannons on Vah Medoh, and he hoped that these wouldn't require such explosive measures. After all, he no longer had access to the Remote Bomb rune that had come in so handily.

"Will they attack us?" Tulin asked.

"It is unlikely."

"Better get things ready anyway," Link said, voice dropping to a quieter tone for Tulin's ears only. "Just in case."

Tulin and Link readied themselves with ropes and paraglider as the boat slid across the clouds towards the dark opening. As the ship's prow approached the eye, Link felt a moment of vertigo, driven by an irrational fear that they would plunge right over the edge of the swirling clouds and into the darkness. The boat, however, simply kept moving forward easily, passing out over the eye.

Compared to the brightness of the clouds and daylit sky, the inside of the storm looked to be an infinite pit of blackness. Link peered over the edge and couldn't see anything until a bolt of lightning crossed the gap, illuminating what lay within.

Tulin gasped sharply. "Link, that's—!" His voice was lost to the sound of thunder that rumbled up following the lightning strike, but Link understood.

Far below them, in the heart of the storm, floated the massive wooden ship that could be none other than the Stormwind Ark of Rito legend.

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen: The Ship of Legend

The flying boat dipped down into the storm slowly, following a spiraling path down into the dark. Though the Rito had indicated that the eye of the storm would be much calmer than the exterior of the storm, he still braced himself for the turbulence and deafening roar of the storm.

What he found, instead, was an eerie calm. Though he could see the storm spinning all around him with every bit of fury that he'd endured on the way into the sky, the air within was completely still. Even the constant, deafening roar in his ears had grown distant and muffled. There was no snow, either.

He looked down into the darkness and, as his eyes grew more accustomed to the dim light within the eyes of the storm, the ship below came into sharper focus. It was massive—at least the size of one of the old Divine Beasts, if not larger. It floated in the perfect center of the storm's eye and was circled by at least a half dozen smaller boats similar to the one he and Tulin flew on.

The Ark was similar to the other boats in its design, but on a far greater scale. Rather than one bird's head at its prow, it had two parallel figureheads, each likely larger than the boat they flew on. Rather than four or six oars, it had eight. It had numerous structures and buildings upon its deck, including one near the aft section of the deck with multiple stories and a roof that flared out in a way that vaguely made Link think of the Zonai Temple of Time. It bore numerous carvings and statues of avian figures overlooking the deck like ancient sentries.

In the center of the deck was a large circle that had been painted or carved into its wooden surface, with six objects around its circumference that looked to be machinery of sorts, though Link couldn't make out much from his vantage. As they grew closer, Link realized that in the center of the circle, forming another, smaller circle, was a grating that looked like it might open up to gain access to the ship's hold.

"Link, look at it," Tulin said, breathless. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"I know," he said, still fighting down his own sense of awe. His eyes darted about the ship's deck, looking for any sign of life. Zelda had come here—Tulin was confident in that, and Link had to agree. Why else would she fly up into the sky near the storm?

"Wait, it doesn't have any sails!"

Tulin was right. Though the ship had its eight oars, each as long or longer than the boat they rode on, it had no sails. Its design made Link think of a massive seafaring galleon, but he wondered now if it was able to move from its place, or if its ship-like design was for show.

"Maybe it can get towed by some of the smaller ships," he said.

"Maybe… Or maybe it just doesn't need sails to move. Medoh could fly without flapping its wings or using sails, too."

Link thought to point out that Medoh had dozens of propellers and other Sheikah technology built into it to help it achieve its airborne state, but as he only remembered a fraction of what Zelda had explained to him on the matter, he left it alone. "Yeah, true."

The steward construct swiveled its head around to look at them, extending its neck far beyond its body. "The Stormwind Ark was built to defend the Rito home and, therefore, was not designed with great mobility in mind. While it can move, it can only do so slowly. This also ensured that the Rito could not use it as a weapon against the Zonai or the other races of Hyrule."

Tulin bristled at that. "We wouldn't have done that! The Rito have never tried to attack anyone else!"

The construct whirred softly and didn't respond, retracting its neck and facing forward once again. And though Tulin seemed annoyed by its statement, it made sense to Link in a way. If the Zonai designed this craft to protect the Rito, they wouldn't have wanted to also give the Rito a powerful weapon that could be used against them or others.

It wasn't at all different than the way the Sheikah had designed the Divine Beasts and the Guardians. Though each of the machines held incredible power, unbeknownst to anyone else, the Sheikah could shut it all down in a heartbeat. That was how Zelda had shut the Sheikah equipment down after the Calamity.

It still hurt Link to think about how things could have been different had they just known about that function when Ganon first rose. It had all been there, right under their feet in Hyrule Castle, in the ancient Sheikah laboratory underneath the mountain. They could have prevented the slaughter before it spread.

He shook off those thoughts as the boat dipped lower, now level with the Stormwind Ark. Now that they were closer, Link could see even more detail, marveling at the beautiful inlays along the sides of the ship. The ship had several piers along its sides, both at the top deck level and at points along the side of the ship, giving access to the lower decks and the hold.

The construct steered its boat towards one of the piers that extended out from the top deck, bringing it in close before slowing to a perfectly aligned stop. Once the boat had stopped, it turned its head to look at Link and Tulin again. "We have arrived at our destination."

Tulin didn't wait. As soon as the boat stopped, he cried, "Come on, Link!" spread his wings and gave them a flap, leaping up and over the side of the boat and the dock, landing on the Ark's deck. Link followed quickly, stowing his paraglider again, and stepped over to the larger ship.

His footsteps on the wooden deck sounded too loud to his ears in the oddly still air. Nothing moved on the deck of the ship, except Tulin, who spun around, looking up at the ship's structures in awe. Now that he was closer, though, Link was able to see something that he had missed previously.

From out of the hold's circular grating, he could see what looked like snow drifting up from it, floating into the air before settling back down in a shallow ring around the grate. He could see ice encrusting the grates as well, as well as forming on some of the six mechanical objects around it, which he now saw to be a series of large, elevated cogs that appeared able to lower to fit with cogs on the deck's surface.

"Tulin, look," Link said, stepping closer to the grate. As he approached, the air got noticeably colder, cutting through his Rito cloak with alarming ease. "I think we found—"

Several things happened at once. It began when Tulin suddenly said, "It's Zelda!" from beside Link. Immediately, Link spun, the cold and floating snow all but forgotten as his eyes searched the deck. He caught a glimpse of a white dress with green trim on the other side of the grating, but then that sight was lost as, up from the grating, an explosion of wind and snow blasted upward and outward with enough force that Link was thrown onto his back. At the same time, from within the hold, an ear-piercing roar sounded, causing the ground to tremble with its force.

"Whoa!" Tulin ducked low, maintaining his footing, though he was pushed back several steps. "What was that?"

Link shook his head and, as the rush of wind died down, he looked around desperately, trying to find Zelda again. He'd seen her, dammit! She'd be right there! But now the place that he'd seen her was empty, devoid of any sign of her presence.

And then another thought occurred to him—one that made his insides freeze as solidly as the ice that encased the gears and cogs around the hold. Had she been blown over the side of the ship?

"Zelda!" He shot to his feet, ignoring Tulin, and raced towards the edge of the ship nearest where he saw her. He slammed against the side, grabbing on and thrusting his head out and over the railing, looking straight down. Lightning flashed, crackling across the sky with a bone-shaking rumble, and his eyes darted from side to side, looking for any sign of her in the darkness.

"Hold on, Link! I'll find her!" Tulin said, shooting into the sky and then plummeting down like an arrow, wings folded, beak pointed straight down. Link watched as the Rito shrank to the point of being a dot in the distance and flew back and forth in a wide circle. Surely, if she'd fallen, he would have caught up, right? He'd see her!

He forced his eyes away from the swirling mass of clouds far below, looking desperately around the deck of the ship. "Zelda! Where are you?"

His Zonai arm burned—a pain that had grown the closer he'd gotten to the Stormwind Ark. It had been such a constant the last few days that he'd started being able to ignore it, but now it flared once more. He hissed in discomfort, grabbing his arm near the shoulder, but didn't stop searching the deck for his wife.

A whoosh of wind announced Tulin's return. He landed on the deck, and Link looked at him hopefully. He shook his head. "I didn't see her. I think I would have, if she fell."

That was a relief, and Link also had to remind himself that Zelda appeared able to fly, as both he and Tulin had witnessed. Even if she had been pushed over the edge, she would have been safe, right?

He took several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Zelda was here. For whatever reason, and Link wasn't certain what it was, she was here. And now that he was here, too, he wouldn't rest until he found out why.

Tulin stepped closer to the circular grate in the center of the deck, which had stopped spewing forth wind and ice and had returned to its previous state of sending up a light snow that fell back down around it. As he got closer, he shivered, rubbing his wings together. "Oh, wow, it's cold here."

Link approached as well, noting the way the air temperatures plummeted the closer he got to the central point on the deck. "You're right."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Tulin asked, looking back around at him with wide eyes. "This must be where the storm's coming from! If we stop it here, maybe it will go away!"

Link nodded. It made him think of the way Divine Beast Vah Ruta had created the constant rain over Zora's Domain during the Calamity. There was likely something within the ship's hold that was generating the storm, or perhaps it was the ship itself. But then there had been that sound…

"You're probably right," he said, looking at Tulin. "But we need to be careful. Whatever's down there… I think it might be alive."

"Yeah… so what do we do?"

Link shook his head, looking around the deck once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of Zelda again. She had to be here to find a way to stop this thing, right? Maybe she could help them somehow.

His eyes fell on a familiar sight. An upright ring, about as tall as an adult Rito, that stood just a few paces from the edge of the ship's hold, in line with the gearworks that Link assumed must control the grating. He'd seen others like it, but on the sky island with Rauru. It was the archway depicting the twin dragons forming a circle with their bodies before their faces met at the keystone.

"I have an idea," Link said, moving around the circle on the wooden deck to stand before the dragon-headed arch. As he approached, the Zonai projection appeared within it—the eye and the hand and the text, all glowing with ethereal green light.

He looked down at his left hand, flexing his fingers before reaching out with it and placing it in the center of the projected image. The image flashed, bursting apart and absorbing into the arch, causing glowing green lines to appear along the dragons' bodies. At the same time, orange lights appeared along the floor surrounding the grate, shining up from under the gearworks and along the raised poles that the final six cogs sat on.

Those cogs lowered slowly, fitting into place in each of the six series of gears. As they did so, ice that had formed along their teeth cracked and broke off. And when they were in place, the gears began to turn.

Or at least, they tried to.

Rather than turning smoothly, the gears immediately ground to a halt. The grate shifted, and a few cracks appeared along the ice that coated much of it, but it did not open. The gears ground together for a few seconds before the cogs on the end rose again, and the whole machine went back to the way it had been before Link activated it.

And before either Link or Tulin could do anything more than stare on with disappointment, an alarm sounded from somewhere within the ship, and the doors leading into the buildings at either side of the ship opened, revealing several Zonai constructs—specifically, the soldier variety.

All had weapons drawn.

An arrow shot past Link's head, and he swore, ducking around the side of the building he'd huddled against. There were at least a dozen soldier constructs of varying designs. Some of them had bows and arrows that they somehow used single-handedly, while others wielded shining swords, spears, and shields.

"Behind you!" Tulin called.

He spun around to find another construct that had emerged from a door behind him that he hadn't noticed. It came at him with a large, glowing Zonai sword that it held in two of its machine hands.

Link spun about its swing, his arm moving like a viper, stabbing out with his own shining Zonai weapon, powered by the glowing energy cell at his waist. He thrust the sword right through the construct's eye, and the lines of green energy that powered it ceased. Its body fell apart into individual rings and components.

"Hah!" Tulin said from somewhere above. His bowstring snapped forward, and an arrow took one of the other constructs in the eye. However, even as that one fell, two more took its place, pouring out of the open doorway on the squat building to the forward of the ship.

Link gritted his teeth. He wasn't in a good position. Near the rear of the ship, he'd taken up position around the side of one of the buildings beside the tall tower. While he had cover from arrows, he was still too exposed from behind. It was better than being near the circular hold grate, surrounded, as he'd been when the constructs first attacked, but he was still at a disadvantage. Thankfully, Tulin controlled the air, and none of the constructs had even come close to hitting him with their arrows.

He looked again at the constructs scattered across the deck. Another had emerged near him, this one taller with a longer neck and arms, and three eyes stacked vertically upon its head. It had a bow at the end of one arm, while the other ended in something that looked like the head of a beast. A dragon, he thought.

This one didn't seem to realize Link was nearby, and it took aim with its bow, which was made with a lot of the same metallic greens and golds that the constructs and their weapons were made from. As Link watched, the bowstring seemed to pull back of its own accord, and then an arrow materialized, already nocked.

It shot the arrow off in Tulin's direction, but the Rito was moving too quickly, and the shot did not come particularly close. The construct followed Tulin with its eyes, however, as well as its bow.

Link wasn't about to give it another chance to fire. He darted out from his cover, shield in his right arm, shining Zonai short sword in his left. The construct turned towards him, whirring softly as it moved, and raised the dragon-headed device towards him.

The dragon spat fire.

Yelping, Link threw up his shield, intercepting the flames. The frigid air vanished, replaced by the intense heat of the fire as it splashed against his shield and threatened to curl past it. He grunted, squinting his eyes against the inferno. He took a split-second before diving forward and to the side in a roll. Flame licked his boots, but then he was up and out of the stream of fire.

The construct moved to catch him in its flames again, but Link was close enough now to leap forward, slamming his shield into the construct's torso. The construct flailed its arms, sending the spray of fire into the air, and before it could regain its bearing, he jammed his sword in, deactivating the machine.

Lightning split the sky, flying boats circled the Ark, and in the ship's hold, something roared its fury. Link and Tulin continued to fight, leaving piles of metallic and stone rings and deactivated weapons scattered all about the deck.

Link was tiring, though. His arms grew heavy, and that initial rush of strength and energy experienced by all at the onset of a battle waned. The day of climbing and flying and holding on for dear life wore on him, and eventually he stumbled.

Somehow, he'd made his way towards the edge of the ship. He fought against a larger construct, similar in design to the three-eyed one with the flame spitter, though this one wielded a spear tipped with blue energy blades. With its ability to extend and contract its arms, Link found it infuriatingly difficult to get within striking range. To make matters worse, he saw a couple of additional constructs approaching across the deck, each wielding similar melee weapons.

The construct swung its spear in a sweeping arc, which Link ducked under before stepping forward to close the gap. However, the construct did not move like a normal living creature. Its arms were not restricted by joints and could curl unpredictably.

As Link sprang forward, intent on ending the fight before the construct could receive reinforcements, he didn't see the way the construct spun its spear completely around in an arc that left a blue afterimage in its wake. Nor did he see the way it curled its arm back towards him like a serpent coiling to strike.

Before he could even react, the spear's haft slammed against the top of his head with enough force to make stars burst into his vision and send him to the ground, his sword skittering away across the deck.

He groaned, disoriented. He'd ended on his back, looking up at the distant opening, where he could still make out the blue sky over the storm. He saw the serpentine figure of the unfamiliar dragon flying up there, circling the storm, but not diving into it.

Then it was blocked by the three-eyed head of the construct, its spear raised high, ready to plunge it down into Link's chest. He groaned again, but his reactions were sluggish, and his vision swam as he tried to move out of the way.

"Link! Hold on!" Tulin's voice. He sounded distant, but he couldn't be that far, could he?

He wasn't. The Rito landed a moment later, slamming to the deck beside Link. He swept his wings back and then brought them forward, just like he'd done when fighting the aerocudas. And just like then, he somehow created a powerful column of wind that slammed into the construct and threw it bodily up and over the edge of the ship.

Lying there, Link wasn't much affected by the sudden gust, but he still felt it. It was like the air was sucked from his lungs, replaced by the howling roar of wind that rivaled anything he'd experienced from the storm that day.

Tulin turned, facing the two constructs that were approaching, and he did it again, flapping his wings and creating a second gale that threw them back. One went over the edge, and the other ended up on its back. Before it could rise, he leaped up into the air, drawing an arrow and sending it into the machine's eye.

Everything fell still and quiet again.

Groaning softly, Link forced himself to sit up, rubbing the top of his head, where the construct had hit him. His fingers came away red with blood, but not too much. His mind was still fuzzy, but he thought he'd be all right.

Tulin landed beside him, looking around warily before spinning to face Link. "Are you okay? That thing hit you hard!"

"I'll be okay," Link said, blinking several times and giving his head a shake to clear his vision. "Was that the last of them?"

"I think so." Again, Tulin looked about, perhaps remembering the lesson from their fight against those cave-dwelling creatures the day prior. "Those things really didn't like us being here, did they?"

"They're Zonai constructs, just like the ones flying the boats." Link took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I've encountered them before. They were set to defend this place and don't differentiate between friend and foe."

Tulin scoffed. "No kidding. You would think that, since this ship was made for the Rito, they wouldn't attack us!"

"Yeah, agreed."

He began to rise, and Tulin quickly grabbed hold of his hand, pulling him up to his feet. Once upright again, Link started to feel a little better. His head cleared, and though it still throbbed painfully in time with his heartbeat.

He turned, looking about the deck at the broken bodies of constructs that littered the deck. Shockingly, there looked to be at least two dozen of them, all reduced to piles of components.

Zelda would love a chance to look at these, he thought, before remembering that she did have a chance to look at them.

She just needed to show herself.

He cupped his hand around his mouth, calling out. "Zelda! Zel, are you here?"

No one answered, but Tulin tilted his head beside him, as if listening to a reply. After a few seconds, he looked at Link, eyes wide. "Link, I heard the voice again! It's here. Under us, I think."

"In the ship's hold?"

"Yes!"

"What did it say?"

"It said… It said to take the stone."

Link frowned. "The stone?"

Tulin shook his head. "I don't know. It said that I would find the stone below and that I needed to take it for myself."

Something about this felt familiar to Link, but as he tried to consider it, he found that nothing came to the forefront of his mind. What was this voice, and why did it only speak to Tulin? How did it know that they would come here? Was this stone responsible for this blizzard? And what was that roaring they'd heard?

Was this all some kind of elaborate trap?

He sighed, frustrated by his lack of understanding. "Then I guess we get below, somehow."

"But how do we do that?" Tulin asked, looking back towards the frozen grate. "You felt how cold it got, right?"

Link nodded, walking around several piles of construct bodies, getting closer to the grate. He could feel the way the temperatures dropped the closer he got, and they showed no sign of bottoming out. His cloak and gloves did nothing to keep him warm, and his face began to burn in the frigid air. He'd never felt something so cold before.

He finally stopped several feet from the grate—close enough to see down into it. However, all he could see through the curving bars was the shifting white of ice and snow, as if a blizzard had been condensed and forced down into this ship's hold.

He stepped back, rubbing his nose to warm it again, and looked at Tulin. "I think you're right, though. The source of the blizzard, whatever it is, is down there."

"Then we've got to get in there!"

"Yeah, but the question is how. Even if I had the means to break the ice on the grate, I don't know that I'd be able to get close enough without freezing."

"Maybe there's another way in? There's got to be a way in from below, don't you think?"

Link nodded, looking back towards the buildings at either end of the deck. "Likely, but even if there is, that cold… It has to be even worse inside. I could even use my powers and probably just slip through the floor, but…"

"Then you'd be trapped in the cold!"

"Exactly."

He considered the deck around them. Could he somehow block the grate enough to get out on top of it to pick at the ice? He thought that his Zonai sword might be able to melt the ice, but doing so would require him to get out onto the grate.

Unless…

He'd lost his Zonai sword when he'd been struck, but it wasn't hard to find a replacement. A nearby pile of construct components held one identical to the one he'd lost, and when he thumbed the activation lever, the blue energy blade appeared, just as expected, somehow connecting to the power cell he carried.

Link took a deep breath and held his arm straight out, holding the sword horizontally. He concentrated his thoughts, and his arm began to softly shine with blue-green light. He opened his palm.

The sword remained in the air, held aloft by his power. And what was more, the energy blade did not disappear. Despite no longer being held by him, the sword was still connected to the power cell.

Link breathed slowly, sending the shining energy sword forward towards the grate. He heard Tulin say something excitedly beside him, but the Rito's words didn't register in his mind. Instead, he kept his eyes on the sword as it moved towards the ice-covered grate. He thought he could see a faint shimmer in the air between the sword and his outstretched palm—a stream of shifting green light that connected them.

Abruptly, the thing down in the hold roared again and sent up another blast of wind and ice, which struck the sword and caused it to spin and shoot higher into the air. His arm, still connected to the sword through his Zonai power, was wrenched upward like a lever. Link cried out in alarm, grabbing his left arm with his right and fighting to stay on his feet while the sword was pushed higher still.

"Link!" Tulin said, grabbing onto Link's shoulders to steady him.

Gritting his teeth, Link pulled the sword back, out of the torrent of snow and towards his open palm. As soon as it cleared the grate and the wind column, the pressure on Link's arm disappeared, and the hilt settled back into his palm. He deactivated the sword and took several steps back from the gale originating from the hold.

"Whatever is down there definitely doesn't like when we get too close," Link said, stowing the sword and rubbing his left shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll say! What…" Tulin hesitated, sounding a little more nervous when he spoke now. "What do you think it will do if we get the grate open?"

Link grimaced and shook his head. "I don't know. I don't even know what it is." He frowned, looking at Tulin. "It may try to fight us, though. We need to be ready for anything."

"Okay." Tulin paused and then nodded resolutely. "I will be. I am ready."

He smiled slightly at the Rito's earnestness. Tulin was clearly nervous, but he did his best to hide it.

His smile faded, though, as he considered what could lie ahead of them. They had no idea what kind of creature was inside the ship's hold. He'd heard of freezards—creatures of living ice that inhabited deep caves and mountains in the frozen regions in Hyrule, capable of freezing prey with their icy breath—but this seemed far greater than any stories he'd heard.

Could he keep Tulin safe? He'd told Teba that he would look after the Rito's son—was he being too reckless now? Yet between Zelda's presence and the voice Tulin heard, Link was certain that they were supposed to be here. This felt right to him.

"We'll figure it out," he said. "First, we just have to find a way to get there, and then we can start working on how to stop the blizzard."

He looked again at the bodies of the constructs around them, like so many piles of bones. A thought occurred to him, and his eyes widened as he thought he knew exactly what they could use to heat up the grate enough to melt the ice.

"I've got it!"

He took off running across the deck of the ship, towards the building he'd sheltered beside early on in the fight. Here were several piles of Zonai constructs, most of which he'd defeated with his Zonai sword. Including the one with the fire-spitting device.

He found the dragon-headed device without any trouble and picked it up. It was fairly heavy, and its exterior looked to be made entirely of green and gold stone. The dragon's maw was open and lined with teeth, and within was a small, round nozzle of sorts.

"What's that?" Tulin asked, fluttering down beside him.

"It can spit fire, somehow," Link said, turning the device over in his hands. There was no switch or button to activate it that he could see, but the back of the head did have a trio of thin slots that the construct's fingers had been inserted into.

Maybe…

Holding the head in one hand, he pulled his Zonai sword free again and lined its blade-end up with the three slots, finding that the three fins from which the energy blade could extend matched perfectly.

He slid the sword into place. It fit loosely, not fitting nearly as securely as he thought it would, but he hoped his idea would still work. Holding the dragon's head and sword hilt in both hands, somewhat like he would hold a heavy crossbow, he flicked the sword's switch. There was a brief flash where the sword would appear, and from the dragon's mouth, a short burst of flame that sputtered out immediately thereafter.

"Damn," Link muttered, pulling the sword's hilt free and examining it. When he flicked it on, the blade reappeared without issue. However, when he combined them again, nothing happened except for the briefest puff of fire.

"That was a good idea!" Tulin said. "How did you know that would work?"

Link scowled, separating the two devices again. "It doesn't work. Not like I'd hoped, anyway." He considered the two pieces of equipment with annoyance. The fire-breathing device seemed to interact in some way with the sword, but now he wondered if maybe it had been damaged in the fight.

But then he had another thought. Rauru had instructed Link in the use of three separate abilities, and thus far, Link had mostly only used two of them. However, what if the Zonai's ability to fuse things together was somehow tied in with their technology, too?

He brought the two devices together again, once more noting the way the sword fit well, but it wasn't secure. But if he just concentrated on what the two devices were supposed to be, together…

His arm shone with power that transferred into the sword hilt and progressed to the spot where it slotted into the dragon head. The power coalesced there, looking almost liquid in the way it pooled and filled the gaps between the fins and the openings, and then it faded.

When he'd combined the hilt with the construct's blade horn, the result had been effective, but crude. The power held them together, but it was clear just by looking at them that they didn't belong together.

That wasn't the case here. There were no longer any signs of the sword's fins or the holes they slotted into. Instead, the hilt connected smoothly to the back of the dragon head, as if they were made to be one whole. Even the device's balance seemed to have subtly changed, with more of its weight in the hilt, making it less awkward to hold in one hand.

Taking a deep breath, Link held the device as he had before, pointing it slightly in the air, lest he set the wooden deck ablaze. And this time, when he flicked the switch on the hilt, a stream of yellow fire shot out of the dragon's mouth, extending maybe ten feet.

"Yes!" Tulin said, clapping his wings together. "You did it, Link!"

Grinning, Link switched the device off and marveled at the device he'd created. Perhaps this was the true power of the Zonai, then. It wasn't just the ability to pass into other objects, lift them with nary a thought, or make two things stick together with magical glue. It was the way that those powers could interact to do something entirely new, and the way the Zonai's technology worked to enhance that.

He turned his attention again to the frozen grate that led to the ship's hold. "Okay," he said, smile fading. "Let's see what's waiting for us below."

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen: The Scourge and the Sage

Link stood by the grate to the hold, again looking down into the swirling white blizzard within the Stormwind Ark's belly. He was as close as he was willing to get. Any further, and the air simply grew too painful. He had an idea to get closer, but he wanted to experiment first.

He looked toward Tulin, who stood beside him, a determined expression on his face. The Rito held his bow in his wing, trying his best to project confidence that he probably didn't feel. Link understood that and was torn between wanting to encourage him and telling him to stay back and let Link handle whatever waited for them below.

He's proven himself plenty of times over the last few days, he reminded himself. Tulin may not have been a full-grown adult, but he also wasn't a child any longer. And despite Link's desire to keep Tulin safe, he acknowledged that he may need the Rito's skills in whatever came next. And he was called here. He's meant to be here.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Tulin looked up at him and momentarily hesitated before nodding. "Let's do it, Link. Let's get rid of this blizzard once and for all."

Link smiled, trying to project some confidence that he, himself, didn't fully feel. "Let's."

He hefted his Zonai flame-spitter in both hands, taking a deep breath, and then flipped the switch on the handle. Immediately, fire shot out—a thick stream of orange and yellow that pushed back the cold and warmed Link's face, despite being pointed away from him. The fire splashed against the outer portion of the grating, consuming the ice there with a hiss.

The thing below roared, and the blast of frigid air was strong enough to make Link stumble back. The flames changed direction, angling up and away from the grate, pushed aside by the powerful wind.

Gritting his teeth, Link set his shoulders and stepped forward, towards the cold column of wind. Though the wind cut at his clothes, the flames counteracted it enough that he was able to get closer than before. The flames couldn't reach the ice directly like before, but Link could see from the way the orange of the fire reflected in the ice that some of its heat still managed to get through.

Likely, if he kept going like this, the upper layer of ice might melt, but it would just be replaced by more ice on the underside of the grate, possibly achieving nothing. He thought that maybe he could counteract that if he managed to start heating the metal grating, though. He just needed to get closer.

He crouched on the ground, angling the stream of fire down, and inched closer still. Now, however, he found himself experiencing a different complication. Because of the way the fire was being redirected, he was getting uncomfortably close to the flames streaming upwards.

So, instead, he used his telekinesis.

Concentrating, he pushed the device forward with his mind, keeping it low, almost scraping against the ground. As it got closer, though, he began to have difficulty countering the force of the wind on the flame-spitter itself. He gripped his left arm with his right to steady his hold, sweat prickling across his forehead.

Just a bit closer…

Again, the creature below roared furiously, and the wind's fury intensified. Link grunted, fighting to keep his hold on the device as the wind threatened to send it spiraling away.

Come on!

He was slipping. His arms strained, and the weight of his mental hold sent a stab of white-hot pain through his head. His shoulder burned like the flames were licking it instead of the metal grating. And still, the beast within the ship raged, causing the entire vessel to shake and tremble.

"Hold on, Link!" Tulin's voice, barely audible over the roaring wind, was joined by a second blast of wind—this one from just overhead and pointed down at the grate.

Link gasped as the pressure on his arm suddenly reversed as Tulin's gust pushed down on the flame-spitter, causing the fire to dance across the metal grate before dispersing on the other side. The device clanged loudly as it connected with the metal, and Link acted more from instinct than any conscious thought.

Determined to keep the flame-spitter from being blown away, he mentally commanded it to fuse to the grate. And to his surprise, it did exactly that. The device briefly glowed with green light, and when the light faded, it had fused to the grate, still spitting fire down at an angle.

The creature bellowed, and Link heard something slam into the grate from below. There was an explosion of snow and ice, blinding him for several seconds. When that cleared, though, he saw that the dragon-headed device remained in place, spitting its fire down into the hold itself.

The torrent of wind and snow still deflected it, sending it up and out, but that only served to cause flames to wash all over the grate now. What was more, the wind and snow were now joined by steam.

Tulin landed, eyes wide. "Link! It's working! The ice is melting!"

Link nodded, standing and backing away quickly. He positioned himself at the large vertical ring, ready to trigger the mechanism that would, hopefully, open the grate. He waited, though, wanting to be sure.

Steam continued to rise, and something slammed into the bars once again, nearly sending Link onto his back from the impact. Whatever was under there was massive, and it was furious.

"Tulin, be ready!" Link yelled. "Whatever this thing is, I think it's going to come out swinging!"

"I am!"

Link's lips formed a rictus grin as he struggled to see through the rising cloud that now obscured so much of the grate. He saw flashes of orange and white through the steam and heard cracks, perhaps as some of the thicker ice broke apart under the onslaught.

Almost there. Just a bit more and—

The orange light in the center of the steam cloud went out.

Link gasped, confused, and then he looked to his belt where he'd hooked the Zonai power cell. Its green glow was completely gone. The fire-breathing device had completely drained it of its energy.

Swearing, Link pressed his left hand to the glowing image in the center of the arch.

The gears and cogs began to move once again, the elevated ones lowering to fit into place. They moved agonizingly slowly, and Link gritted his teeth. Undoubtedly, the creature's blizzard would refreeze the moisture in the air quickly. They likely had seconds before the grate was frozen solid once more, and possibly even worse than before.

Come on, come on…!

The elevated gears fell into place, and the whole mechanism activated, turning the various cogs laboriously. The steam had cleared now, as well, revealing new ice already forming on the heated metal. But it also revealed places where the new ice had begun to crack as the six sections of the grate attempted to pull apart and retract into the deck.

The machinery groaned, and Link was certain that it was too late. Any moment now, and the gears would separate again as the grate resealed. And now that the power cell was drained, he had no idea if they'd have another chance to get through. The fire-spitter was useless now.

He saw it there, still stuck firmly to the grate. It straddled across two of the pointed sections, and a thought struck Link like a blow to the head. He had fused the device to not only one section of the grate, but two. And the Zonai's fuse ability, as strong as ever, would sooner rip the device in two before it released its hold on the grate.

Again, acting more on instinct than any real knowledge of how his power worked, he thrust his arm forward, mentally grabbing hold of the device to try to reverse the fusion. He formed the mental image, imagining the device and the grate as two separate objects again. His arm shone with his power, and the fire-spitter responded in kind.

There was a flash of light, and suddenly both the dragon-headed device and the Zonai sword hilt were sent flying away, separated not only from the grate, but each other as well. And with a final, sharp crack, the rest of the ice holding the grate closed shattered.

The six teeth that made up the circular grate slid back into the deck, and the storm within calmed. For a few seconds, there was silence.

"We did it, Link!" Tulin said, laughing. "We got it open!" He began to run forward.

"Tulin, wait—!"

A cyclone of snow exploded out from the open hold. The force was enough to throw Link back off his feet in a low arc that slammed him back down on the deck some ten feet away.

And when his vision cleared, Tulin was nowhere to be seen.

Tulin flipped wing-over-tail high above the Stormwind Ark. The world spun, and he fought not to black out as darkness crept at the edges of his vision. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, his chest hurt like he'd been punched. He was still caught in the cyclone that rose impossibly far over the ship, and there was no fighting it.

He clamped his beak shut and thrust out his wings to either side. Pain flared in his joints, and he cried out, but it had the desired effect of throwing him out of the tornado and into calmer air.

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs, and got a good look at his surroundings. He was at least a hundred feet up. That blast of wind had tossed him like an octorock shot a river stone.

Wait, Link!

He scanned the deck, desperate to see his friend. If he'd been thrown off the ship like Tulin had, then—

He saw him. Link had been thrown halfway across the deck, but he rose to his feet, unsheathing his sword. However, he couldn't see what Tulin saw now. If he had, he would have known that his sword wouldn't do him any good.

Up from the bowels of the Ark rose a creature unlike any Tulin had ever seen. It had a kind of insect-like appearance, but it was huge, as big as a dragon, and about as long as one, too. It had enormous, jagged mandibles with spiked teeth along their length. Its body was long, like that of a serpent, but segmented, with three large, turtle-shell-like sections along its back, all covered in huge spikes. Each of those sections also had a huge, insectoid wing and a pair of clawed legs that looked like they belonged to a praying mantis.

The whole thing looked like it was made from ice. From its mandibles to its wings and the armor plating that covered its length, it was ice. The only parts of it that didn't look like they were made of ice were the five orange, slitted eyes that dotted its arrow-shaped face.

The thing rose slowly out of the ship's hold, and from Tulin's perspective, he could see the way it uncoiled itself from around something within that shone with a bright light. Whatever it was, he couldn't make it out in detail, due to the way snow and ice swirled around the creature.

A flying beast made of ice, he thought, suddenly remembering what the Zonai construct had said about the Stormwind Ark. It had named a creature just like this from the distant past.

Colgera.

It said the Stormwind Ark had been created to destroy this creature, and that it had succeeded long ago. It would seem, however, that Colgera, the former scourge of the Rito skies, had returned.

And now Tulin had to find a way to defeat it.

Godsdammit, Link thought as he watched the massive creature rise from the ship. He gritted his teeth, and his sword dropped to his side, the arm holding it limp. How in the world was he supposed to defeat that?

It had to be the thing mentioned by the construct earlier. Didn't it say that this thing was gone? And didn't it also say that the Stormwind Ark was made specifically to defeat this thing?

He whirled about, looking up at the tall tower at the rear of the Ark. He'd not paid much attention to it as they made their way down, but he could see it now—the cannon. It wasn't like those he was familiar with—neither the Sheikah Guardians nor the more conventional iron cannons favored by the Hylian military. Instead, this one looked like a small dome with a golden tube sticking out of one side, but he figured it couldn't be anything other than the weapon spoken of by the construct.

He heard the snap of a bowstring and the impact of an arrow against ice and looked up just in time to see Tulin zip by. Relief flooded Link, and he grinned, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Keep it busy! I've got an idea!"

He had no idea if Tulin had heard him, but he didn't waste time waiting to find out. Instead, he tore across the ship's deck, eyes fixed on the tower. If he could get there and figure out a way to use the cannon against this creature, then perhaps they had a chance.

As he ran, though, he noticed something else that he hadn't noticed during the initial rush of the battle.

Frost. Frost was beginning to spread across the deck of the Stormwind Ark, creeping up the railings and coating the dead constructs. And with the frost came plummeting temperatures and harsh winds that cut straight through Link's winter gear.

The footing of the deck quickly deteriorated as the frost surface grew slick. He barely caught himself before slipping and colliding with a towering Rito carving and used his hand to push off of it, shoving himself towards the still-open doorway leading into the tower.

Frost crystallized on his scarf—his breath freezing as quickly as he exhaled. The cold was pervasive and rivaled anything else he'd ever experienced. Whatever that thing was, it didn't need to fight Link and Tulin. The cold that surrounded it would kill them as surely as its spikes, if they didn't defeat it quickly.

Tulin's arrows were useless against Colgera. They just bounced off the creature's ice plating. Even its eyes were shielded from harm by a layer of clear ice that was able to rebuff his arrows.

He had Colgera's attention, though.

The monster had turned towards Tulin. At first, he thought the beast was slow in the air, but he soon realized that its size merely gave the illusion of sluggishness. It could move. It shot towards him alarmingly quickly, its six wings stirring the air and propelling it like an arrow. In moments, it had risen a hundred feet, orange eyes blazing with fury and mandibles spreading.

Tulin flew for all he was worth, spinning aside in a roll before tucking his wings and dropping like a stone. He shot down and leveled out just above the deck of the Stormwind Ark, catching sight of Link again as he darted into the tower building at the back of the ship. Tulin hoped that would give him some shelter from the cold, at least.

And it was cold. Colder than he'd ever experienced. Cold in such a way that his insulating feathers seemed to do nothing. It was like he'd been dropped into Lake Totori in the middle of winter and remained underwater until his feathers were entirely waterlogged. It was cold enough that his wings ached, and he thought that frost must surely be gathering along the edges of his beak.

Colgera roared from above, and Tulin looked up to see the beast bearing down on him. It was covered with spikes all along its body, save for its belly, and he wondered if perhaps that was the key. Was it vulnerable from below?

He banked hard to the right, curving around the tower, and then dropped into a dive while out of sight, plummeting beneath the ship and coming back up on the same side he'd just been flying towards. As hoped, Colgera had turned, expecting him to come out the other side, and this gave Tulin an excellent view of its belly.

Unfortunately, from what he could see, that wasn't the vulnerable spot that he'd hoped for. The armor plating covered most of its body on the underside as well, the plates overlapping and interlocking to form an impenetrable shield against attack. It did seem less imposing than the armor atop, but Tulin did not doubt that his arrows would be just as ineffective here.

The areas that did look more vulnerable, however, were the undersides of the larger oval-shaped shell sections. They had ice here, but it looked thinner, and Tulin could see something within that pulsed to a steady rhythm. Were those… Colgera's hearts? Could it have more than one? He knew of some types of eels that had more than one.

He tried to fly closer, but even with his wind sense, the air around Colgera became dangerously choppy, its wings forming spiraling eddies and turbulence strong enough to snap bones. There was no way he'd be able to fire an arrow accurately through that, either—it would get caught up and thrown away like a leaf in the breeze.

Colgera must have realized that it had been tricked, because it suddenly angled up and back, giving its eyes, all five situated in a zigzag pattern atop its head, a view of what lay behind and beneath it. It roared and twisted more sharply than he would have expected possible, flying back towards him, somehow avoiding colliding with its wings or tail.

Tulin cursed and flapped harder, skirting the top of the Stormwind Ark's deck and then blasting upward on a powerful gust of wind that seemed more than happy to blow at his beck and call. Colgera followed. It was fast, but not quite as fast as Tulin at his peak.

Suddenly, something exploded against Colgera's side, and the beast roared in fury. Tulin spun and saw one of the smaller ships—one of those that had been patrolling circles around the Ark—turning in the air not too far away, flown by a small Zonai construct at its control stick. It had two metallic tubes sticking out of its sides—one on each side—and a thin trail of smoke rose from one of them.

Cannons! Of course!

The ship looked like it was trying to bring its other side to bear, presumably to use its other cannon, but it moved far more slowly than Colgera could.

"Watch out!" Tulin cried, but there was nothing he or anyone else could do. Colgera made no effort to slow as it flew on a collision course for the small vessel and opened its mandibles wide menacingly. Before the ship could even complete its turn, the flying beast reached it.

Its mandibles snapped closed, crunching into the ship from aft to stern, snapping its masts like twigs. Colgera kept going forward, and its arrow-like face split the ship along the seam created by its mandibles. The beast barely even slowed as it flew straight through the small ship, leaving two large pieces and dozens of smaller shards in its wake.

Tulin watched in horror as the Zonai construct, still shining internally from whatever light powered it, fell. The construct made no sound as it fell and gave no sign of fear, but Tulin felt like screaming.

He shot towards Colgera, aiming straight for the thing's eyes. Other ships around the Ark had turned, moving in their direction, and Tulin wanted to try to keep the monster distracted as long as possible. He may not be able to damage the beast himself, but he could at least try to give a better target to the things that could.

The inside of the tower was unlike any building he'd ever been in before. Link had hoped for a staircase that would take him to the roof, but instead, what he found was a single chamber with an extremely high ceiling. However, despite having no ceiling, save for the one at the very top, there were different levels and floors to the tower.

Small, open-sided chambers lined the walls at different points, with catwalks and landing platforms making pathways around the central opening. Meanwhile, the ground floor was taken up almost entirely by a massive fan that blew air upward, creating a constant updraft straight up the center of the tower, through the openings.

The design was perfect for Rito, he reflected. The updraft easily remedied their weakness when it came to vertical flight, and he figured that there were doorways that led outside from the outer chambers. And because the chambers were all stacked atop each other, this single tower could probably fit hundreds of Rito crewmembers, and that didn't include the rest of the ship.

This design would have been useless for a typical Hylian. Fortunately, however, Link had the paraglider gifted to him by the late King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, Zelda's father.

He unfolded the paraglider, looking up towards the distant ceiling. He couldn't see any opening from his angle here, so he hoped he wasn't going to end up finding this to be a foolish venture. Outside, he heard something like an explosion, followed by an angry-sounding roar from Colgera.

Had Tulin brought bomb arrows? Link hadn't seen any in his quiver on the way up here. "Tulin, what are you doing out there?" he wondered, anxious for the young Rito's safety.

Taking a deep breath, Link stepped into the updraft, holding his paraglider aloft and letting the wind lift him. His shoulders screamed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He sincerely hoped that he hadn't done any lasting damage to them over the last couple of days from how often and long he'd hung from his paraglider like this.

The wind shot Link up, proving his suspicion that this design would be a massive boon to any Rito that lived here. He did wonder about the constructs, though—did they have a way of getting to the upper floors? Or did they all wait below for signs of intruders before rushing out to attack like they had?

Controlling his ascent was far from easy. While the updraft was designed to provide a smooth, vertical draft, Rito were far better at making minute adjustments in the air than Link would ever be with his glider.

He nearly lost his grip entirely when the edge of the glider clipped one of the catwalks, causing Link to gasp and his legs to thrash, trying to find any sort of purchase. He managed to kick off the edge of the catwalk, pushing himself back towards the center—and then the other side.

Cursing, he twisted, trying to adjust his grip and ignore the way his grip on the twin poles was anything but secure. At least the interior of this building wasn't nearly as cold as the outside. The draft wasn't warm, by any means, but compared to the wind outside, it was downright pleasant.

He passed by two more floors, each housing chambers devoid of life. He caught glimpses of old, broken-down constructs in some of the chambers. Perhaps those were some of the stewards who had worked until they could no longer, keeping the rooms prepared for charges that would never return.

Link didn't like thinking about that. It spoke too closely to his losses, not just during the Calamity, but during the century that he'd slumbered to heal from his wounds. How many friends had he known who spent years wondering whatever happened to the young bearer of the Master Sword?

Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, he also pictured the faces of his father, Arn, and his younger sister, Aryll. They almost certainly perished during the initial attack on Castle Town by the corrupted Sheikah Guardians, but if they somehow survived that, then they too likely went to their deaths wondering what happened to him.

He drove the thoughts from his mind as he reached the uppermost level. Here, the updraft from below leveled out, giving Link the exact height needed to reach the top row of chambers and the catwalks surrounding them.

Overhead, the ceiling loomed. It had various slits cut into the wood, presumably to let the wind from below flow up and out, but no doors or openings that he could see. There might have been a trap door over one side of the catwalk, but he couldn't see any lever or mechanism to open it.

He carefully edged closer to the catwalk, reaching out with his feet until he was able to get enough purchase to pull himself closer. As soon as he was able, he dropped his arms, groaning at the soreness in his shoulder. Damn, what he wouldn't give for Mipha's healing abilities right about now!

Stowing his paraglider again, he made his way around the catwalk, passing by other empty chambers. Most were largely empty, but some held remnants of old, wooden furniture. While the ship held together timelessly, it was clear that not everything was made with the same care and longevity.

Finally deciding that there was no easier way for him to climb up to the room, he sighed and pressed his hand to the wall. His arm glowed faintly as his fingers sank in as if the solid wood were nothing more than putty. These abilities really would make rock-climbing far easier. Trivial, even. But what was the point if there was no challenge?

He reached up and began to scale the last ten feet or so to the ceiling. His body ached, but this wasn't nearly as bad as the paraglider ascent, and he soon reached the ceiling. He reached up, and soon he was climbing through the solid wood, holding his breath.

It was thicker than he expected, and the blackness pervaded long enough that he began to feel those stabs of panic again. But then, first his hands and then his head emerged from the roof, back into the utterly frigid air surrounding the ship.

Everything atop the tower was coated in ice, including the domed cannon, which was much larger than Link had realized. He immediately began to shiver as he pulled himself free of the wood, the howling wind cutting straight through to his core. It did not, however, seem to be quite as cold as it had been before.

He realized why a moment later. Far away, near the boundary of the storm's eye and seemingly far enough that the Ark was no longer affected by the extreme cold near it, flew Colgera. And just in front of the beast was a much smaller figure who flew with incredible speed and grace, staying just ahead of the ice monster.

Link cursed. He hadn't expected Colgera to be faster than Tulin, but from Link's perspective, that certainly looked to be the case. Tulin managed to stay just ahead through expert aerial maneuvers, dodging, weaving, and diving to avoid the monster's enormous mandibles, but never pulling away.

He noticed with some surprise, though, that Tulin and Colgera were not alone in the skies around the Stormwind Ark. The smaller ships that had been circling the larger vessel had moved out of that orbit and towards Colgera. They were utilizing cannons of their own, too, launching fiery black and green spheres towards the flying serpent creature.

Unfortunately, most shots went wide, exploding harmlessly or passing into the storm wall. One did strike home, however, shattering some of the ice spikes that lined Colgera's back and causing the beast to shudder in the air.

It twisted in the air, turning its face towards the offending ship shockingly quickly, but even more shocking was the speed at which Tulin shot out in front of it again. It was hard to tell, but Link thought that the Rito must have launched an arrow at Colgera's face, because it turned its attention back to its smaller prey.

The ship that had shot it, however, was not forgotten.

A series of ice spikes suddenly shot out from one of those turtle shell-like sections on its back, and three of them smashed into the Zonai-built vessel. Two crunched into its side while another tore straight through both of its sails.

The ship sagged, its avian figurehead tilting down as it lost altitude. Link gritted his teeth as the ship fell. There were still five remaining that he could see, but they wouldn't last long against that monster.

They needed a more powerful weapon. Something that could hurt the thing.

He turned his attention again to the large weapon sitting on the tower's roof. The domed cannon sat upon a rotating dais, and the cannon's tube was attached to a swiveling section that looked able to aim anywhere along its one-hundred-and-eighty-degree axis. Combined with the rotating platform, the cannon should be able to fire in any direction but down.

The only question, of course, was how to actually control it.

Tulin spun through the air, wings folded close, as he dodged a huge spike that shot out towards him. That had been a surprise move by Colgera, and now that it had revealed that ability, it appeared to have no problem making free use of it. Maybe it was feeling more threatened now that the other ships had joined the fight.

Colgera roared in fury—a sound that rent the air and made Tulin's ears feel like they would start bleeding. He winced and looked around to see where Colgera was. With dread, he realized that he'd lost the beast's attention again, and before he could do anything about it, another of the Zonai ships was destroyed.

Only four left.

He looked back at Colgera and noticed something new, however. The spikes it had been shooting out had all originated from the bulbous sections of its body that Tulin suspected held its three hearts. And where the spikes had launched from, he could see a much thinner layer of ice, as well as the red, pulsing mass beneath.

No wonder it hadn't started using those attacks right away! Every time it shot out its spikes, it left itself vulnerable! Tulin whooped with excitement, tucking into a sharp loop and spinning around to reverse his direction of flight. Now he flew straight towards Colgera, whose attention was still diverted away from him and towards those other ships.

Tulin shot out over the spiked section of its body. He could see that new ice spikes were growing in the areas that the monster had first launched spikes from, but there were still numerous patches of thinner ice exposed.

Tulin halted his forward momentum with a flap and lifted his bow in his talons. Most Rito didn't shoot arrows like this, often choosing instead to use their wings. He never liked that way, though, as it always meant giving up any control over his aerial motion, even if only for the couple of seconds it took to fire off an arrow.

He'd developed this technique himself, making use of not only his wings but his feet and beak as well. Using his beak, he nocked an arrow with practiced ease and straightened out his body, drawing the arrow back. That was the other benefit of this method. Using his wings, Tulin never really felt he was able to draw the bow enough to get a really powerful shot off, but when he drew like this, he could use his entire body to draw the bowstring.

When he loosed the arrow, it shot straight and true. The churning air caused by Colgera's wings made this shot impossible from underneath, but from above, there was far less wind and turbulence, and the arrow slammed hard into the ice protecting its heart.

As Tulin had hoped, this ice was far thinner and easier to pierce than the hard armor plating that made up the rest of its exoskeleton. To his dismay, however, the ice did not shatter. While the arrow caused a spiderweb of cracks to spread from its impact, it still only lodged in the ice, rather than piercing it through to the heart.

And Colgera noticed.

What in Hylia's name? Link thought, eyes wide.

Far away, a huge, black orb of swirling snow and ice had appeared, and Colgera flew straight into it. And alarmingly, did not come out the other side. It appeared to be some kind of… portal?

Was it running? It looked as though Tulin had managed to do something to hurt it, but surely it wouldn't run now. It had destroyed two boats in mere minutes, and the three remaining looked paltry in comparison to the monster. And Tulin was a mere dot in the sky from Link's perspective.

Colgera didn't stop, though. It passed entirely into the black portal, and then the sphere condensed, disappearing as suddenly as it appeared.

The air calmed. The wind stopped blowing again, and the cold lessened. Link saw Tulin flying back and forth, likely keeping an eye out for Colgera to reappear, but for the moment, there was nothing.

Link realized what it would do just before it happened. The flying boats were all fairly aligned in formation, having been the last of them to arrive in range to use their cannons against Colgera. Together, with all three of them firing, it was possible that they could have done some significant damage in a short period, and it would have been difficult for Colgera to strike at one of them without exposing itself to counterattack from the other two.

However, like most ships, they were vulnerable to attacks from the front and back. Their cannons looked able to swivel, just as the cannon atop the tower could, but that took time and was still limited in terms of firing straight ahead or behind.

Colgera seemed to know that, too.

"Watch out!" Link cried, though he was much too far away to be heard.

The wind howled anew, bringing with it more snow and frigid cold, and the portal reopened just underneath the rearmost of the three flying ships. There was no way it could have dodged in time as Colgera burst out of the hole it had created in the air, tearing straight through the ship like it was made of twigs.

Colgera turned sharply and continued, out of the front of that ship and straight into the back of the next one in line. The frontmost ship turned, trying to bring its cannon to bear, and managed to get off a single shot that deflected off the Colgera's angular face before it, too, was torn apart by the flying monster.

And just like that, the skies were clear of threats to Colgera, and it was able to turn its full attention back onto Tulin.

"Oh, pluck me!" Tulin cried, giving his wings a hard flap, driving himself through the air backwards, just ahead of Colgera's furiously snapping mandibles. He tried to get back over the beast to get another shot at its heart, but without the distraction of the other boats, it was far warier of Tulin's maneuvers.

He looped around, weaving around a launched spike that would have impaled him if he'd waited even a split second longer. Were those getting faster? Colgera certainly seemed to be growing more dangerous now, perhaps as eager to put an end to this fight as Tulin was, himself.

It roared, and suddenly, the air was full of spikes as it launched dozens of them in his direction, each flying like an arrow towards his heart. He spun and juked, diving and looping, avoiding spike after spike, but barely. He felt one graze his wing, and his talons scraped against another.

Again, Colgera roared, and Tulin looked up to see that it had turned, bringing the spiny shell near its tail around to face him. All of its spikes shot out then—a wall of ice that Tulin thought he'd have no chance of dodging. Not all of them.

Screaming in both terror and anger, he brought his wings together, sending forth a column of wind that slammed into the spikes flying in his direction. It didn't stop their momentum, but it did divert enough of them that he was able to tuck his wings together and shoot straight through the narrow gap.

He felt one spike graze his back while another slid along his chest. They didn't have a smooth surface, but were instead rough and jagged, and he felt as though a hundred tiny ice needles stabbed through his feathers at their touch.

The pain wasn't bad, but he was certain that the beast had drawn blood. Clenching his beak shut, he looked towards Colgera's tail, thinking that maybe he could get a shot off at whatever internal organ those spikes had protected.

Unfortunately, Colgera appeared prepared for this too, and Tulin was alarmed to see a tornado in the air in front of him.

Angry, he banked right, skirting dangerously close to the cyclone, but picking up speed as he matched its rotation. When he came out the other side, he flew faster than an arrow, easily outpacing Colgera as it turned to pursue him again. He needed to put some distance between them to come up with something else.

He looked ahead, towards the Stormwind Ark, and spotted Link atop the tower. He was doing something with the cannon there—was that one of those control sticks that the constructs used to fly the boats? It was!

The stick was atop the cannon's rotating dais, and it looked like Link could control the cannon with it! But could he shoot Colgera? Would it do more damage than the smaller cannons on those ships did? And if he did, what would Colgera do? Would it turn its attention to destroying the Stormwind Ark?

If it did that, was there any chance that Link and Tulin would be able to survive?

He didn't have those answers, but he had to hope that Link knew what he was doing. He turned in the direction of the Stormwind Ark, flying for all he was worth to bring Colgera into range.

Link had no idea what he was doing.

An idea had struck him as he inspected the dais around the big cannon, though. He found a place on the dais that stuck out a little, which also held a small, round indentation in the platform. It looked as though something could slot there.

He spun around, eyes darting about until he spotted exactly what he was looking for. Off to one side of the tower's roof was one of those control sticks that the constructs used to control the boats. It wasn't connected to anything, but instead lay on its side, abandoned.

It was genius, really. Link suspected that no one without Zonai powers could make the device work. Just like his sword and the fire-spitter, one likely needed to fuse the disparate pieces to bring them to full functionality.

Perhaps the constructs had a special way of doing it, too. Could they fuse things together like their masters? Or did they have some other kind of ability to allow them to use these devices? And then another horrifying thought struck Link.

If the Stormwind Ark was created to defeat Colgera, and those constructs he'd fought earlier were made to defend the Ark, were they also the ones capable of putting the ship's weapons to use? Had Link and Tulin inadvertently defeated the very constructs capable of destroying this beast?

He hoped not.

He grabbed the control stick, hefting it and bringing it over to the cannon's dais. As suspected, it fit into place perfectly, and when Link fused the two devices, the result looked as though they'd been made like that.

Now to see if he could make the cannon work.

He'd noticed with some surprise that the power cell at his waist was full of green Zonai energy again. Though it had been drained earlier, it seemed that it would replenish its power in time—a boon, if Link ever saw one. The only question that remained was whether or not he could power the cannon with it.

"Get ready!"

Tulin's voice split the air, and Link looked up in surprise to see the Rito shoot past, flying so fast that his passing sent a gust of wind that blew Link's hood back from his head. And just behind him was the massive form of Colgera.

Already, Link saw new ice crystallizing on the tower's roof. The monster brought with it its frigid cold, and Link gritted his teeth against the renewed burning pain he felt on his cheeks and nose.

He stepped up onto the platform, taking hold of the control stick, and this time, the Zonai footprint on the stick's small platform came to life. He wasn't sure why it didn't work earlier when he tried the stick on the ship, but he was more than grateful to see this work.

The cannon lurched as he tilted the stick, the rotating dais spinning him around to face the entirely wrong direction. "Oh, come on!" he said, tilting the stick back in the other direction. It brought him back around to where he'd been facing before, but the cannon itself was pointed straight up. How could he aim it?

He pushed forward on the stick. Oh, that's how.

It was surprisingly intuitive. Forward and back motions controlled the angle at which the cannon pointed, while side-to-side motions caused the platform to turn. Everything functioned smoothly, though now he had to figure out how to fire the blasted thing. He found the button a moment later.

His aim was completely off, though.

What's he even aiming at? Tulin thought, as the huge flaming ball shot past Colgera, well wide of its mark.

The ball—whatever it was, as it didn't look entirely like a solid iron cannonball—sailed off a distance, arcing and disappearing into the storm wall. It exploded a moment later, causing a bright flash on the other side of the swirling clouds.

Colgera wasn't happy about it.

It turned, roaring its fury, and started to dive towards the Ark and Link's tower. Clenching his beak tightly, Tulin swept around, still flying faster than he could ever remember flying before. He caught up quickly, moments before Colgera might have been able to smash into the tower.

This time, he didn't stop with one arrow.

Twang! Twang! Twang!

His bowstring sang as he launched three arrows in quick succession towards the bare patch of ice near Colgera's tail. He wasn't sure if the pulsing organ under the ice was its heart or not, but it was something.

And when Tulin's second arrow shattered the ice around it, allowing his third to plunge straight into it, it hurt Colgera.

The beast writhed in the air, twisting and just barely missing slamming into the Stormwind Ark bodily. It fell, spiraling, its body twisting around its wounded tail, but any hope Tulin had of defeating it with that strike faded when he saw one of its portals open underneath it.

Again, there was a moment of peace before the portal reopened directly over Tulin's head.

Colgera dived, its eyes red with fury as it rushed towards Tulin. It snapped its mandibles with a sharp crack, and he dove to avoid it. His momentum had slowed when he shot off those arrows, and now he found himself trying to keep ahead as Colgera's wings beat the air and propelled it towards him.

Heart thudding, Tulin leveled out over the Stormwind Ark, again taking a path just over Link and his cannon. He hoped that, this time, he would be able to—

BOOM.

The shockwave nearly knocked Tulin out of the sky. He swerved around and saw that Link had, indeed, managed to get a shot off. And this one had been perfect.

His arrows would have been completely ineffective in trying to shoot up into Colgera's underbelly, thanks to the incredible turbulence created by its six wings. The cannon, however, packed a far stronger punch, and it appeared capable of utterly shattering the ice encasing Colgera's hearts—and destroying what lay within, too.

Colgera screamed, writhing and spinning as ice and Hylia knew what else rained down around Link and the cannon. A moment later, the beast's tail slammed into the roof.

"Link!" Tulin cried as the top floor of the tower folded in on itself, cannon and all. The entire structure didn't collapse, surprisingly, but the roof was completely gone, crumpled and left with a gaping hole in its center.

Link was nowhere to be seen.

Screaming in frustration, Tulin swept around, tears forming in his eyes. Link couldn't be gone. Surely he'd found a way to survive that! Maybe he'd jumped or dove down into the tower. But even if he did that, could he survive? That was a long fall, and Tulin couldn't see him. If he'd jumped off the side of the tower in time, then wouldn't Tulin be able to see?

Colgera raged, thrashing, clearly hurting. Its rear wings didn't seem to be able to work now, and the wings in the middle of its body were sluggish.

Now's my chance. Link would want me to take it.

The thought pained him, but Tulin couldn't think about what it would mean if Link were dead. This creature may have killed his friend, but if he didn't stop it, it may very well kill far more. Now was his best chance.

Tulin shot out over Colgera's head, and the beast seemed not to notice him as it struggled to stay aloft. It may have very well already been dying for all he knew—it was bleeding dark purple blood out of the wounds left by the cannon blast. But he had to be sure.

He could still see the spiderweb of cracks in the ice where his first arrow had struck true. More ice had formed around the arrow, but the arrow remained—a spot of weakness that Tulin thought he could exploit.

He flew low and halted his momentum enough that he could draw his bow and launch another arrow, right at where he'd struck with the first. His aim was dead on, and the ice surrounding Colgera's final pulsing heart shattered, revealing the throbbing organ within, red veins connecting it to the walls of the strange protective shell it had once had.

Colgera screamed, and Tulin went to draw another arrow.

His quiver was empty.

"No!" he screamed, furious, as he looked down to realize that the arrow he'd shot had, indeed, been his last. His eyes darted about—could he somehow find another one? The constructs earlier had shot arrows—maybe there were stray arrows left on the Ark's deck!

But there was no time. Colgera was flying straight for another portal, and Tulin just knew it wouldn't let him catch it off guard again. All it had to do was go somewhere else to reform its ice shield, and he'd be helpless when it reemerged.

An idea struck him, and it felt like a spike of ice ran down his spine as he thought it. But would that not work? Surely it would. And what other choice did he have? He had mere seconds before Colgera would pass back into its portal and out of Tulin's reach.

Closing his eyes tightly, Tulin took a breath, and then he shot forward.

Just like before, he felt the wind calling to him. The voice he'd been hearing wasn't the wind—that was something else entirely, and he wasn't sure what. But he knew it wasn't the wind, because to Tulin, the wind sang.

It whistled through crevices and rang as it passed by chimes. It created ripples across still lakes and made leaves shiver as trees bent to its will. Sometimes the wind howled and sometimes it whispered, but always it sang.

As he shot forward as true as any arrow, it sang now. It caressed his beak, ruffled his feathers, and reminded him to tuck his talons in. Its song carried with it his father's words of affirmation, his mother's pride, and the musical tones of Notts' beautiful singing voice.

He kept his eyes open until the very last moment. Colgera had nearly reached the portal, its mandibles mere feet from safety. It never looked back to see him as he shot straight towards its exposed heart.

He kept his wings tucked and closed his eyes and silently said goodbye as he slammed into Colgera's final remaining heart.

And anticlimactically, considering how dramatic the moment had felt to him, out the other side.

The ice, maybe cracked by Tulin's arrows or by the repeated impacts of cannon fire on Colgera's body, shattered easily as he flew straight through. It didn't feel good to break through a thin layer of ice with his face, but it also didn't hurt the way he thought it would.

And it certainly didn't kill him like he'd expected!

Tulin gasped, eyes opening wide as he shot out the bottom of Colgera's underbelly. All around him, purple-black gore and shards of ice rained, and he was coated in plenty of the stuff. He felt the pain of a dozen cuts along his face and wings, and his beak smarted something fierce. He worried that he might have cracked it.

But he was very much so alive.

Tulin laughed aloud as he spread his wings, catching a gust of wind or perhaps creating it, turning aside and shooting out from under the falling gore. He soared in a loop, spinning around, and looked down to see that the portal had collapsed in on itself as Colgera writhed.

It screamed, twisting, and the heart that Tulin had wounded earlier with his arrow beat one final, feeble time before it fell still. Colgera's eyes frosted over, its wings falling limp, and far slower than seemed possible, it fell.

Tulin watched as it picked up speed, falling faster and faster. Pieces of its icy armor broke off, carried away by the wind of its passing. One of its wings ripped free, spinning away separately as the flying serpent-like monster plummeted.

It fell through dispersing clouds as the blizzard broke apart, revealing Hebra Mountain far below. It slammed into one of the floating islands below and lost a mandible, the ice forming it shattering like glass.

Its body deteriorated further, revealing it to be made of so much ice and little else, and by the time it crashed to Hebra Peak, it barely resembled the great monster that it had once been. In fact, though it left an indentation in the snow atop the mountain that vaguely carried its shape, its body was rapidly melting away to nothing.

Tears stung Tulin's eyes as he looked away from Colgera's corpse and up to see the swirling clouds all around them breaking apart, revealing the setting sun to the west. The warm, summer sun.

They'd done it. They'd saved the Rito. They'd stopped the storm.

They'd—oh, feathers, Link!

Link groaned. The tumble down the tower had been anything but pleasant, though he managed to get through it without much more than a few new bumps and bruises. Maybe a bruised rib.

When he'd seen Colgera's tail coming in for the strike, he had simply let himself fall through the floor of the tower. One moment, he'd stood on solid ground, and the next, he slipped down through solid wood and into open air.

He had hoped that he might have a chance to land on that first landing, but unfortunately, he had been too close to the center of the big opening in the center of the tower, and he'd fallen right past it before he could try to adjust his descent.

That was good, though, as a moment later, the entire roof and most of that top floor had caved in.

Somehow, he managed to maneuver himself through the air to land on the next landing down. Or at least he would have, had he not also still been using his power to pass through solid matter.

He slipped through that platform as though it were water and out the other side. The next one below that, too, for that matter. He finally landed on the one below that one, just two floors up from the ground. That probably should have killed him, or at the very least left him far more broken, but he thought that passing through the floors overhead must have slowed his descent some. Or on second thought, he wondered if the giant fan that created the updraft had done the trick.

Either way, he was safe as pieces of the roof crashed around through the central opening of the tower, smashing into the fan below and causing it to grind to a halt. And by the time he managed to extricate himself from the wreckage of the tower and onto the Ark's deck, the sky overhead was a deep and darkening blue, and the setting sun felt almost too hot after being in the cold for so long.

Tulin landed right in front of Link, eyes wide. "You're okay!" he said, voice shrill with emotion. And before he could even react, Tulin had wrapped his wings around him in a tight embrace. "I thought for sure—when it hit the tower—you—"

Link groaned, the Rito's squeeze causing some discomfort to his bruised ribs, and Tulin finally pulled back. "I'm all right," he said, exhaling in relief as the sun warmed his face. "Are you? You did it, didn't you? Did you kill it?"

"Yeah!" Tulin reached up to wipe at his eyes and then made a face at the gore on the back of his wings. Link hadn't noticed it at first, but now that he was looking, he could see some kind of purple liquid glistening all over Tulin's face, chest, and wings.

"Wait," he said, frowning. "What happened to you? Did you—"

"I ran out of arrows."

"You ran out of arrows. And so you decided to…"

"Yeah."

Link barked a laugh, and then so did Tulin. And then up from Link's belly, more laughter. The stress of the climb and everything surrounding it rolled off him, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet as he doubled over with laughter. Tulin was laughing, too, beak wide in an open-mouthed grin.

When the laughter finally subsided, Link wiped his eyes, letting out a heavy breath. "Oh, goddess, I needed that." He grinned, slapping a hand down on Tulin's shoulder. "Great job, Tulin. You did it. I think—" He glanced around at the clear skies around them. "I think the Rito are safe."

"We did it together," Tulin said firmly. "There's no way I would have ever made it here alone."

Link smiled fondly, though he wasn't entirely sure about that. After all, it was all Tulin's doing that brought them here in the first place, and it was Tulin who delivered the final blow. But he also didn't argue.

"Either way, you did good. Teba's going to be proud of you. They all will."

Tulin's smile faded somewhat. "Yeah, but…" He looked back towards the open hold, where Colgera had lain in wait. And Link remembered what he'd said earlier—what the voice had been telling him to do.

"Do you still hear it?"

Tulin nodded. "There's something down there… Something I need to take."

"Then let's go."

Tulin stared, wide-eyed, at the altar before him. It was big and elaborate, with bird-like wings at the corners, and a weird top that looked kind of like an open lotus flower. And hovering just over it was a shining teardrop stone, bigger than his head.

"What is it?" Tulin whispered.

"It's… called a Sacred Stone," Link said, standing beside him in the hold of the ship. This altar was the only thing in here. "It's like the one Zelda and I found—though bigger."

"It is—" Tulin cut off as, suddenly, the stone shrank down to the size of a small river stone and shot through the air, stopping and floating right in front of his face. He let out a soft gasp, marveling at the way the light within the stone shimmered and swirled, colors of all sorts combining and separating within it.

Carefully, he reached out with one feathered finger and lightly touched it. The stone flashed with golden light, blinding him and causing him to cry out, stepping back.

And when Tulin opened his eyes again, he was somewhere else completely.

All around, bright, shifting mists obscured the landscape. He stood on loose sand that had been raked into concentric circles and beautiful designs. There were stones, too—big boulders with sharp peaks and smaller, rounded stones. The sand around them, likewise, had been carefully raked and shaped. It was all neat and orderly.

He was standing in a rock garden of the sort he'd seen when traveling with his father to Kakariko Village. But he couldn't see anything beyond his immediate surroundings. Even the sky was obscured by the mists.

And standing just in front of him was a tall, strong-looking Rito. He wore a kind of elaborate mask that was shaped to look like a bird's face, with a wide crest that might have been feathers. The whole thing was made of green and gold metal, and it completely obscured the Rito's face and beak.

He also wore elaborate clothing. Shoulder epaulettes not too different than what was common among Rito now, but far showier, and some kind of cape that clasped at one shoulder and hung forward, over much of his right wing. This, too, was lined with gold thread, standing out starkly against his dark grey wings and white chest.

"Tulin, my brave fledgling," the Rito said, and Tulin recognized his voice.

"I know you," he said, stepping forward, the sand shifting under his feet. "You're the one who guided me here, aren't you? The one who's been calling me."

The Rito inclined his head. "Yes. I am your ancestor from a time, long, long ago, though not so long for me. My name is Medoh."

"Medoh!" Tulin said, eyes widening. "Like the Divine Beast!"

Medoh chuckled. "Yes, it would seem, or so Zelda has informed me, though I believe that it may be named for me, rather than the other way around. I am—I was—a Rito warrior in my time, and the Sage of Wind."

Medoh held his wing forward, and Tulin hesitantly stepped forward. This ancient Rito was much taller than he was—taller, even, than his father—and his wing was intimidatingly large. Somehow, he knew that this Medoh likely flew better than any Rito alive—himself included.

"Where you fly, the winds follow," the sage said. "I would expect nothing less from my descendant. You make me proud, Tulin."

Tulin clicked his beak, not sure how to respond. He could hear the emotion in Medoh's voice. Pride and compassion and hope, all rolled together, as though this were a moment he had long awaited.

And perhaps it was.

"But why?" Tulin asked, unable to contain the words in. "Why call me? Why tell me that I need to take your stone? Are you—"

"I am long, long since gone, my boy. This… projection—our ability to communicate with each other now—it is through a combination of my power and that of the Sage of Time—the woman you know as Zelda. I do not know how she manages it, but together, we've found this small way to cross time and space so that I may look upon you with my own eyes."

"But then—I—why? I still don't understand. Why me? You want me to take the stone, right? Does that mean that I'll be—I'll become the—"

"The Sage of Wind. Yes, my brave fledgling—that is who you are meant to be. You are my descendant and my successor. I took up this stone in my time to join the king of Hyrule in his fight against the darkness—against the Demon King, the man known as Ganondorf.

"With it, I gained great power. Control over the winds in such a way never seen before among our kind. But even with it, and the combined might of the other sages, we were unable to defeat Ganondorf. His power was simply too great, and we were unprepared for his tricks."

Tulin shook slightly, Medoh's words like blows upon his soul. He knew what he would need to do, and it terrified him. "But how… if you couldn't stop him, then how can I?"

Medoh stepped forward, reaching out and placing his wing on Tulin's shoulder. "Because you are not alone. You will be a far greater Sage than I—I can see it already. I was a mere placeholder—a temporary bearer of the stone while it awaited its true master. You, Tulin, are the Sage of Winds. And together, with the swordsman named Link, I know that you shall defeat the Demon King once and for all."

Tulin took a deep breath, looking up at the masked face of Medoh, the once Sage of Wind. He couldn't claim to be confident in that moment. He wasn't sure of himself or his abilities. The last several days, he'd learned much about his strengths and his limitations.

But perhaps Medoh was right. This was not something he could do alone—nor was it something he was meant to.

"I'll do it. I'll do my best to fight—to beat—the Demon King."

Medoh nodded. "Good. Now take it, Tulin. Become what you've always meant to be. Become the Sage of Wind."

Light blinded Tulin once more, and he gasped, raising his wing to shield his eyes from its brilliance. When it cleared, he was back in the Stormwind Ark's hold, and the Sacred Stone hovered before him.

As he watched, the light within shifted and became a brilliant green, coloring the entire stone in its emerald vibrance. Lines began to appear as if etched into the stone, forming a symbol that Tulin had never seen before but instinctively knew what it meant.

Wind. That was what the symbol, which consisted of swooping lines, curves, and dots, meant.

And as the symbol finished etching itself into the stone, he felt it come alive. Tulin gasped as power—the howling, whistling, rushing power of the winds themselves—flooded into him. The wind swirled around him, surrounding him, filling him, driving him ever forward.

He reached out and took the stone.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen: Leaving the Roost

The stars were clear and innumerable in the skies over Hebra. The only clouds were a handful of puffy, white ones far below, near the peaks, and the stars were joined by a faint, shifting kaleidoscope of greens and reds that stretched across the heavens.

Link always loved looking at the stars. As a boy, he'd tried to count them, starting with a single constellation and thinking he could simply count from one constellation to the next. He never got far, but they always had the effect of soothing him. Just as they soothed him tonight, as he lay there on the deck of the Stormwind Ark.

Night had fallen shortly after Colgera's defeat. He and Tulin had explored the massive ship, making their way through its various chambers and holds. They found stores of other Zonai constructs—disabled or deactivated ones that looked to have been picked apart by those that had still remained functional. They found a library with only piles of dust and debris, instead of books.

In one room, they found various Zonai devices that Link didn't even know what to make of, including more of those control sticks, spinning fans, and some kind of device that was flat, extremely lightweight, and shaped somewhat like a bird if viewed from above while flying, with a head, wide wings, and tail feathers.

But nowhere in their searches throughout the ship did they find a single sign of Zelda's presence. In fact, except for places that the constructs had kept up, there was no sign of life anywhere else on the ship.

He tried not to feel frustrated by that. Once more, Link told himself that he had to trust her. Zelda was the most intelligent person he knew, and while she could certainly be impulsive at times, her goals were generally wise. If she wasn't revealing herself to him, then she likely believed that she was right to do so.

He had to believe that, anyway, because the alternative could be that she couldn't reveal herself to him. What if she's a spirit? A ghost of a person who passed away eons ago, here now to guide me before moving on?

The thought made his heart clench and threatened to send his thoughts spiraling down a dark path. He had to believe that wasn't the case. His wife was alive, and she had allowed him to see her, even if only for a few seconds. She wanted him to know she was there, even if she couldn't interact with him yet.

A breeze blew across the ship's deck, and Link shivered. Though it wasn't nearly as frigid as it had been during the blizzard and fight against Colgera, the night sky over Hebra was certainly not warm, especially when so high in the sky. At least his cloak wasn't entirely ineffective now, though.

A shadow passed overhead, and he caught a glimpse of a glint of faint green light. Link sat upright, and Tulin landed a moment later, the feathers atop his head swept back more than usual. Around his left ankle was a colorful anklet bearing the Sacred Stone of Wind.

The stone had seemingly created that anklet of its own volition, forming a design that seemed to perfectly reflect how Tulin wanted to wear it. Even its design reflected similar patterns and colors that Link often saw woven into Rito clothing and fabrics.

"Link!" Tulin said, voice loud with excitement. "It's amazing! I've never felt anything like this. Look!" He swept his wing in one direction, and the wind responded, blowing at his command in that direction. A moment later, the wind reversed, following another of his motions. "I can command it—isn't that—I mean, wow!"

Link laughed, smiling at the boyish delight in Tulin's voice. "Teba's going to be surprised to see you now, for sure!"

Tulin tightened the end of his wing into a fist. "I'd just like to see him try to call me a fledgling now. Even Revali doesn't have anything on me! I can just—" He thrust his wings up, and suddenly he was thrust high into the air by a powerful updraft, spinning in a tight circle before coming back down with a blast of air in all directions that forced Link to take a step back.

"Oh, molting feathers, this feels—" Tulin took a deep breath, seemingly trying to regain some control over his excitement. When he spoke again, he at least tried to maintain a more serious air. "That Ganondorf guy isn't going to stand a chance against us, Link. I guarantee it."

Link's smile slipped ever so slightly. Immediately after he'd taken possession of the Sacred Stone, Tulin had told Link about his vision with the ancient Rito, Medoh, and his confession that the sages, even with their powers combined, were unable to best Ganondorf.

Even the Master Sword had been unable to withstand his terrible power.

He didn't say any of that, of course. Not now, when Tulin had just gotten back from his first flight after taking the stone and felt so excited for their victory. Instead, he smiled once again, letting some of Tulin's excitement rub off on him as he went on about the incredible power he felt.

"Flying with you is going to be way easier now, too," Tulin said, after a while.

"How so?"

"Think about it! If we go flying again, I won't even have to tow you anymore. All I'll have to do is tell the wind to flow in the direction we want, and it will. I can even make updrafts when I want to."

That piqued Link's interest, drawing his thoughts back to an idea he'd had a couple of years prior that Purah had utterly lambasted him over. Tulin's abilities would certainly benefit him when using the paraglider, but what about other methods of flight? If he had such minute control over the winds as he claimed, then perhaps…

"Well, I suppose we'll have a chance to try it out soon enough," he said, bringing his attention back to the present. "We've got to get down from here tomorrow, after all." His hope that Purah's teleportation base near Rito Village would be functional again had, thus far, not come to fruition. It was just as well, though, as the majority of the Rito, including Teba, would still be around the Hebra region.

Tulin's talons clicked on the wooden deck of the ship excitedly. "I think you'll like it! Trust me—it will be way easier to get down than it was to get up here."

Tulin was right about the flight down being easier, though Link thought that the Rito had somewhat overestimated the level of his control over the winds—at least when controlling them for Link's benefit.

More than once, Link had been sent spinning off in an unexpected direction by one of Tulin's gusts, and he had been left struggling to just hold on until Tulin could make the necessary adjustments to bring his descent back under control.

It was clear that the Rito had great power at his wingtips, but it was equally clear that he still had a lot to learn about how to master it.

After stopping back at the floating island where they'd left Teba and finding it empty, Link and Tulin continued with their descent, hoping that Teba's absence was because he'd regained enough strength to fly back down and nothing more nefarious. Notably, they did not see any signs of the aerocudas in the skies over Hebra.

Link was grateful when the big bonfires near the trailhead lodge came into view. His shoulders were ablaze with soreness and pain, and he wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot tub of water. If he'd thought of it before, he might have even suggested that, instead of taking them straight to the lodge, they detour to one of Hebra's secluded hot springs.

Some other Rito spotted them as they approached, with several flying out to greet them while others landed and rushed into the lodge to inform those within of Link and Tulin's return. And by the time Link's feet finally touched solid ground again, Teba was there, joined by Saki and Amali. Penn had also arrived at some point.

As soon as she saw Tulin, Saki released a cry of relief and rushed forward, sweeping him up in her wings, smoothing out his crest, and making worried sounds about some of the blood that had dried on his feathers. Teba watched them, smiling with clear pride, and then turned his gaze on Link.

"Well, it seems that you've managed to do the impossible once again. And—" He glanced up, towards the distant, but still clearly visible Stormwind Ark. "Uncovered the godsdamned Stormwind Ark while you were at it."

Penn, just behind Teba, was practically bouncing on his feet. He already had a notepad in his wing and was scratching at it eagerly with a pencil. "That's really it, right? The Stormwind Ark? Was it the one causing the storm? You have to tell me everything—Traysi is going to lose her feathers when she sees this!"

"It—mom!" Tulin said, finally extricating himself from Saki's wing. He looked around, wide-eyed and excited. "It is! The legends are real, but it wasn't what was causing the storm. That was—"

"The big monster that came crashing down yesterday, I assume?" Teba said.

Tulin laughed. "That's right! Link and I—we took it out. And that's not all…"

Link smiled, taking a step back and allowing the group of Rito to crowd around Tulin. He was always happy to let someone else tell the stories, and Tulin seemed to enjoy it, telling of everything from their discovery of the smaller flying vessels to their trip above the storm and then finding Colgera. When he mentioned Zelda, Link's stomach twisted once more, and he couldn't help but glance up towards the ship.

They'd searched all over the ship for her. She wasn't there any longer, but so many questions remained.

What are you doing, Zel?

"Sage? What does that mean?" Teba asked, drawing Link's attention back around.

Tulin removed the anklet from his leg, holding up the Sacred Stone, still glowing green with the unfamiliar symbol etched into it. "I don't understand it all yet, but I think a sage is someone who has one of these Sacred Stones."

Somewhat reluctantly, Tulin handed Teba the stone, letting the older Rito examine it. And Link suspected that he wondered the same thing he did—would the stone grant Teba the same powers that Tulin had now? Would it react to him at all? And if it did, would he insist on taking on the mantle of sage himself, rather than his son, who could barely be considered a young adult by Rito standards?

The stone did not change, nor did Teba have any reaction to suggest he felt any different. Tulin still watched, and Link saw the tension in his stance. Link couldn't blame him, either, considering the ways the two of them had been butting heads.

Teba looked at Tulin, examining him without saying anything for a time, and then handed the stone back. "Okay, so you got a shiny rock out of this. What does that mean, though?"

Tulin took the stone back, looking relieved, and slipped the anklet back on his leg. When he stood back up, he was smiling, beak parted. "Oh, I'll show you, but I need you all to give me some space!"

Teba raised his brow, but he and the other Rito all did as Tulin said. Penn still wrote rapidly on his pad of paper.

Once Tulin had a ring of open space around him, he turned in a circle, making sure everyone was watching. A soft breeze swept over the Rito's heads, ruffling feathers and sending smoke from the bonfires drifting lazily away. Tulin closed his eyes.

The wind shifted, beginning to circle around Tulin, kicking up some of the loose, powdery snow. Link heard several of the watching Rito gasp, and he couldn't help but smile. He'd been a teenager, once, and he'd loved showing off, too.

Tulin spread his wings, and the wind picked up further, sending snow and ice crystals up in a spiral before drifting back down on the heads of those watching. The feathers along his outstretched wings ruffled faster, as he angled his wings just right.

Slowly, Tulin's feet left the ground. He didn't flap his wings at all, but like a Rito gliding on a thermal, he allowed the air itself to lift him. He made the air lift him until he floated some three feet off the snow-packed ground. Link saw shock ripple through the onlookers, and he felt some of that himself. He didn't know Tulin had that level of control.

And perhaps he didn't, really, as a moment later, Link saw a look of consternation pass over Tulin's face. He faltered, drifting to one side and then the other, looking increasingly wobbly as he balanced himself on the rising air.

Still, he held the pose for another few seconds before, suddenly, there was a burst of wind and snow that sent him shooting into the sky and made the gathered Rito shield their eyes. Penn quickly brushed snow off his paper before continuing to write, head down, beak nearly touching the notepad.

"Look!" Saki said, pointing. Link followed her gaze, watching with a smile as Tulin banked and then dove towards them. He swept past them, chased by a gust of wind that sent up more snow in their faces. His mother clapped her wings together joyously, bouncing on her feet. "Yes! Keep going!"

Teba watched, beak wide open. It might have just been shock on his expression, but Link thought otherwise. He was pretty sure that Teba, like Saki, was grinning in utter pride and delight.

By that evening, the majority of the Rito had returned to their homes in Rito Village. Much of the snow had melted, causing Lake Totori to flood its banks and leaving behind muddy roads and waterlogged structures. However, despite whatever hardships that might have come about due to the snowmelt, they were far better off than they had been under Colgera's influence.

There was a feast to celebrate, and Link gladly pitched in, cooking alongside Amali, Genli, and several other Rito, helping them bake fish pies and cakes and enough rice to feed the entire village. Though the village's food stores were still low, the rapid thaw gave the Rito people opportunities to gather supplies, helped by the emergency supplies that had been delivered outside of the Lucky Clover Gazette.

There would be rebuilding needed, and Rito would undoubtedly have to be sent back out to get more food in the coming days, especially considering the setbacks they had suffered. They weren't out of the woods, but nor were they having the life choked from them.

They would be just fine.

"Well, this all feels familiar," Teba said, leaning against the rail that lined the walkway near the top of Rito Village, near his home. He stared out towards the distant Stormwind Ark, still visible and floating in the sky over Hebra. "Feels like yesterday that we were celebrating freeing Medoh."

"Yeah, no kidding." Link sat, legs dangling over the edge of the walkway. A warm breeze ruffled his hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. It was, perhaps, the first real peace he'd felt in the weeks since venturing into those caverns beneath Hyrule.

It felt good to win, even if there were still so many unanswered questions. It was easy to assume that Ganondorf was responsible for Colgera and the freezing of Rito Village, but the truth of the matter was that there weren't any clear signs. Perhaps Colgera had always been in the Ark's hold, waiting for whatever caused it to reappear in the sky.

If it was Ganondorf, then what was his point? Link could have understood pursuing the Sacred Stone, but nothing he'd seen suggested that anyone else was after it for themselves. Unless… Zelda? But no, why wouldn't she have said so if she had wanted it for whatever reason? Could she have just been making sure he and Tulin reached it?

Dammit, stop thinking about her for the moment, he told himself, frowning. There's nothing you can do right now. Enjoy the moment.

"Except," Teba said, voice softer. "This time, it is my son who is being celebrated as the hero of Rito Village."

Link looked up at his friend, surprised to hear a hint of melancholy there. After a few quiet moments, Teba glanced down to meet Link's eyes and then scoffed, looking back out towards the darkening horizon.

"It's just that I've seen him as a fledgling for a long time. I was hard on him because I thought I was preparing him for the future. Somehow, I missed that he already was."

"He's your son, through and through. I think you're not giving yourself enough credit."

Teba grunted. "Maybe. But still, I was a fool for thinking he wasn't ready."

Link smiled wryly. "Oh, he was ready, but I wouldn't say he has nothing left to learn. He does like to jump feet first without seeing what's below him."

"Hmph. Something you both share."

"Hey. That was a long time ago. I'd like to think I've learned my lesson."

Teba smirked. "Perhaps. Though you are the one who showed up and, once again, demanded we help you fly to a place only made for Rito without knowing what you'd find."

"In a frigid blizzard, no less!"

They met gazes once more, and Link could see that, behind Teba's smile, he was still turning something over in his head. Finally, the Rito said, "I think Tulin will learn a lot from you."

Before Link could respond, they were interrupted by a whoosh of air as Tulin landed on the walkway behind them. He bore a few colorful streamers on his clothes—apparently given to him by some of Kass' daughters—and the crest atop his head was messy from just how much flying he'd been doing.

Showing off, more like, Link thought, though without any malice. Let Tulin enjoy his accolades.

"Hey! I didn't know where you both went." Tulin walked over, leaning against the railing with one wing. "Link, I heard you were planning on going back tonight? You don't want to stay longer?"

Link pushed himself to his feet so he didn't have to look up at both Rito. "I'm planning on it. I want to get back to Lookout Landing to find out if there has been any news."

Teba pushed back from the rail. "I'll be right back." He walked towards his home further along the walkway.

Tulin watched him go and then looked back at Link, frowning. "I had hoped you would stay a little longer. I feel like I'm still wrapping my talons around everything that happened. Is it always this exhausting?"

"Is what always exhausting?"

"People telling you what a good job you did."

Link threw his head back, barking an honest laugh. "Gods, yes! I hate it!"

Tulin threw up his hands. "I don't hate it! But I keep having these old hens coming up to nuzzle on me and tell me how proud they are and how much like my father I am."

"Yeah, that's normal. I still can't go to Zora's Domain without some old Zora telling me how they remember me visiting with my father when I was just a boy."

Tulin fingered one of the streamers tied to his leather breast piece—a light blue one colored similarly to Link's old Champion's tunic. "It's not all bad, though."

"Who gave you that one?"

Tulin's feathers around his neck puffed out a little in the Rito version of a blush, and he didn't meet Link's eyes. "Oh, uh… Notts did."

Link grinned. "Well, that was nice of her."

"Yeah! So, uh, what… what do you think is next?"

Link shook his head. "I don't know. I've got to find out what Ganondorf is doing and find a way to stop him." And find Zelda.

Tulin nodded. "Do you think there will be other sages like me?"

"I don't know. Rauru called Zelda the Sage of Time, so there were others. I think he might have been a sage, as well."

"Medoh said he fought alongside other sages to defeat Ganondorf."

Link sighed. There were so many unknowns. He wished he could have gotten more answers out of Rauru before he passed on. "Yeah." And now there's just one. Two, counting Zelda.

Were there other sages out there, waiting to be awoken by the call of the ancients? Or perhaps had some of them already done so? If so, how was he supposed to find them? And more importantly, how were they even supposed to defeat Ganondorf?

"Link?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to go with you. I know I need to help you fight Ganondorf, but I want to be able to help you along the way, too. Maybe I can help you find other sages."

Link turned to study Tulin. He had suspected that Tulin might suggest this and hadn't yet decided how he should respond. How would Teba and Saki react to him taking their son away from Rito Village? What if other threats came, and they needed the Sage of Wind to help protect their people?

What if something happened to him while they traveled? What if Link had to one day return to deliver that news to Tulin's parents?

He wanted to tell him no, to explain how he was needed at Rito Village, but to rest assured that when it came time to face Ganondorf, he would come and get him. Anything less than that felt irresponsible.

"You're sure? It's going to be dangerous. I don't even know what's happening yet, really."

"Yes! Link, I'm the Sage of Wind now. Medoh told me—he told me that I needed to help you fight Ganondorf to save Hyrule. I can't do that if I stay behind in Rito Village."

"Your powers may be helpful to your people, though. Your dad made it sound like there was a lot of work to do still."

"I know, but…" A look of uncertainty passed over Tulin's face before it was replaced by resolve. "I think they can handle fixing the place up without me. Besides, if Ganondorf wins, then there may not even be a Rito Village."

Link grunted and was saved from the need to respond by the sound of Teba's talons clicking on the wooden walkway as he approached again. He carried with him the Great Eagle Bow—a magnificent bow made as a replica of the bow once wielded by Revali.

It was painted grey-blue with golden tips at the ends of each limb, made to look like birds' wings, and a center portion inverted back towards the firer. Made in the style favored by the Rito, it had a wheel at the end of each bow limb, forming a pulley system that supposedly gave its shots more strength and speed, though Link had always personally favored the simpler style of bows.

"Dad?" Tulin asked, eyeing the bow in confusion.

Teba looked at his son, his expression difficult to read. He looked down at the bow he held, brushing it with his feathered fingers. "Tulin, you made me proud today. You've always made me proud."

Tulin stood up straighter at the words, his chest expanding, watching Teba with an expression of anticipation.

"I know that I'm not always the easiest to work with. Your mother loves to tell me that I'm too hard on you, and maybe she's right. Either way, you proved something to me. You're no fledgling, and I can't treat you like one anymore."

"Dad, I don't—"

"Skies above! If you start arguing with me now—" Teba made a gruff sound and then smiled, reaching out and placing a wing on Tulin's shoulder. "Just listen to me for a second. Okay? I know you need to go with Link. Your mother isn't happy about it, but I'll take care of that. She knows it, too."

Tulin's beak remained shut, though his eyes were wide. Link thought he saw the beginning of tears in them.

Teba tightened his grip on his son's shoulder. "You're the Sage of Wind. What you've been called to—your purpose—is greater than the Rito people. I'm not telling you to go, but I know you're going to. You do so with my blessing."

"I—"

"And another thing." Teba removed his wing from Tulin's shoulder and held out the bow towards him. "I think someone like the Sage of Wind should have a weapon worthy of that title. Take it, son. It's yours now."

Tulin hesitantly reached out, taking the bow, looking at it with a reverent expression. "Thank you…" He paused for a moment and then lunged forward, pressing into Teba's chest and wrapping his wings around his father's torso, bow and all.

Teba returned the embrace, squeezing Tulin fiercely, and together they remained like that for several seconds. When they pulled apart, Link was surprised to see tears in both their eyes now.

"Now, you need to get your things ready," Teba said, his voice much heavier now. "Pack light—if I know Link, you'll be traipsing all over Hyrule, but he's got enough friends around that he pretty much always has what he needs."

Tulin wiped his eyes and nodded. "Okay." He looked back, and after a moment, Link nodded as well. It was, perhaps, inevitable that Tulin would go with him, considering what they had experienced.

The young Rito ran off, hurrying across the walkway towards his home. Teba watched him go, but Link watched Teba. When Tulin was out of sight, he spoke. "Are you all right? You're sure?"

Teba grunted. "I wouldn't be able to stop him, even if I weren't." He turned to look back out at the Stormwind Ark, now much more shadowy in the early twilight. "But yeah. This is right. He's ready for this, and I won't hold him back."

Link joined Teba at the rail once more, sighing and looking down. Below, several Rito were moving along the torchlit spiraling walkway, still celebrating. He heard music from somewhere further below, and it made him miss Kass again.

"Take care of him, Link." Teba didn't look at him when he spoke. "He may be the Sage of Wind now, whatever that means, but he's still my boy. He looks up to you, and he'll listen to what you tell him."

"I will, Teba. But—" He had to say it. "I don't know what we're facing yet. Ganondorf, he—he destroyed the Master Sword. He might have been the one behind Colgera, too. I don't know."

Teba snorted. "You think I don't know that?"

"No, I just… I can't promise it will be safe."

Teba nodded. "I know that, too. But you do think you'll be more likely to win in the end with Tulin's help."

"I do."

"Then that's enough." He met Link's eyes. "That's all we can ask for in times like these. Better to suffer some uncertainty now than face certain destruction later."

The words struck Link, and he found himself once again looking out towards the Stormwind Ark, where he had seen Zelda for the second time since their fateful trip under the castle.

He still had so many questions. How had she returned? What was she doing? Why couldn't she tell him? Why couldn't they do it together? The uncertainty of it all gnawed at him, and he wished he could banish it.

He wanted to trust her. Trust her instincts, and that she knew what she was doing. Yet, still, he couldn't stop worrying. What if he was wrong? What if he was misreading the purpose of her appearances? What if she was in trouble?

Could he accept that uncertainty?

Oh, Zel… Where are you?

"Link!"

Zelda fell. The wind rushed in her ears, just like in her dream, as she plummeted toward the consuming darkness. She reached for her husband, who looked on in horror, and in her other hand, she clutched the strange, teardrop stone that seemed to pulse alongside her rapid heartbeat.

Link jumped, and she wanted to scream. Why would he jump? Now they both fell! But she still reached, stretching her hand out for his. His poor, mangled hand, the skin blackened and burned, reached back. The stone against her breast felt warm.

Their fingers touched.

And then suddenly, he stopped, freezing in the air above her, growing distant as she continued to fall, deeper and deeper into the void. She heard him cry out in anguish.

I'm so sorry, Link.

If she could take everything back and never venture down into this dark, hellish place, she would. And with that thought, the stone pulsed, glowing brightly in her hand—shining through her hand. In fact, it made her entire arm shine, and then the rest of her.

The darkness became light, and suddenly she was… flying.

She saw all of Hyrule stretch forth before her. The wind rushed in her ears. The sun was setting, and the mountains cast long shadows over the land. It was like her dream, but also not.

She saw other things. Flashes of memories from her youth. Seeing Link running towards her on a field of grass. Confronting Calamity Ganon at Hyrule Castle, a crimson sky overhead. Power flowing through her as she halted a Guardian advance. Watching Link lift the Master Sword from its pedestal. Bursting into a beautifully furnished bedchamber to see her father seated in a chair, head bowed and pressed to the still form of her mother.

Still, she flew. Colors and sounds and experiences all bled together until they became a kaleidoscope that overwhelmed her senses. Darkness encroached on the edges of her vision, and she tried to resist its pull.

Was this death?

She saw so much else, and yet the more she saw, the less she could comprehend. It all passed so fast, and the darkness grew and grew until it was everything. And once again, she plunged into that void.

For a time, there was nothing. Perhaps she lost consciousness. Perhaps she died. There was no pain, but also no thought. No feelings. No sensations.

But then a new sound.

Birdsong. Buzzing insects. Wind ruffling through leaves in trees. Unfamiliar voices.

"Oh, dear!" said a woman.

There was light, too, behind her eyelids. And a touch on her shoulder.

She could feel the ground underneath her now. A blade of grass tickled her nose, and others pressed against her cheek. She still felt the stone in her hand, so warm and pulsing with her heartbeat.

She groaned softly, her eyes fluttering, the light so blinding after spending so long in darkness. But then something blocked the light—a shadow that fell across her face.

She blinked, and the form of a woman appeared. Dark-skinned and pretty, with long, flaxen hair. Green eyes with little white teardrop tattoos just underneath them. A bronze tiara with a leafy design and an emerald in the center that almost looked like the iris of an eye. Long, pointed ears—easily twice as long as Zelda's own. A necklace bearing a teardrop stone that glowed a soft, golden light, just like the one in her own hand.

And beside the woman was something that she only recognized now because of her trip underground. A being that she had only ever seen in statue form.

A tall, Zonai man.

Zelda screamed.

END OF PART ONE

Chapter Text

Side Quests I

I

Birds sang loudly on the morning that Hudson was to say farewell to his daughter.

When he woke that morning, it could have been a morning like any other. Though he was a fairly early riser, his wife, Rhondson, always woke earlier, and today was no different. The spot beside him was already cool by the time he rolled out of bed and dressed himself in his workday attire—trousers and a finely made red vest.

When he emerged from his bedroom on the second floor of their home, he could already smell the scents of bacon and eggs with the additional sharp scent of Gerudo spices. That was one thing Hudson had to grow more accustomed to after marrying Rhondson—when she cooked, she cooked like a Gerudo, not a "soft Hylian voe with a soft Hylian tongue."

He found that if he had a cold glass of milk or fresh bread with the food, he could usually handle it now. Their daughter, naturally, had no such issues. The foods that would make Hudson's eyes water and mouth burn were nothing to Mattison. She was like her mother, through and through, even if she'd inherited his hair.

"Babo!" Mattison exclaimed when Hudson trudged down the stairs. She rushed towards him, throwing her arms around his torso—or at least as far around as she could get them, considering his barrel-like midsection. He embraced his daughter tightly, trying hard not to think about what would come later that day.

Mattison pulled back from him, beaming as she craned her neck to look up into his eyes. She'd grown taller in her fifth year. Though she had his mop of hair (bright red, as opposed to his black), she had her mother's green eyes and beauty. She was so perfect in every way and looked so old, despite still being dressed in a loose-fitting nightgown that reached her knees.

Hudson could remember when he couldn't see Mattison's feet beneath that nightgown. How had she grown so much so fast?

Rhondson was there, too, wearing her typical Gerudo attire with her midriff-exposing top and sirwal-style trousers that he always found so fetching on her. She glanced back over her shoulder from where she worked on the breakfast, flashing him a smile that showed her teeth.

"Sav'otta, my dearest. Did you sleep well?"

Hudson grunted, reaching down to his daughter and plucking her up off the ground, giving her another squeeze before walking her over to the table and setting her down in her seat. It still had a thick cushion on it to help her reach things on the table.

He could remember when she used to sit in the wooden highchair that he'd built shortly after she was born.

He cleared his throat, trying to dispel the lump there. "Make sure you eat up, Mattison. You've got a big day ahead of you."

"I will!" she said, grinning. "And you too, Papa! You need to work hard to get all of those projects done."

Hudson smiled, reaching out and placing his big hand atop her head, ruffling her thick red hair. "You've got that right, Matty."

He looked towards Rhondson, who gave him a nod of approval before turning back to their breakfast. He took a deep breath, trying to quell his nerves. Did it have to be today? Couldn't they wait another year? She was only five.

Breakfast felt almost normal. Mattison spoke about her progress in learning her native Gerudo tongue, demonstrating that she'd been learning several new phrases. Rhondson reminded Hudson that he needed to talk to Dario about the recent strangers who had taken up residence in New Kasuto to the north. Hudson didn't say much, but that wasn't unusual for him.

But then breakfast was over.

Mattison scampered off to her room to change, leaving Rhondson and Hudson alone at the kitchen table. Silently, Rhondson stood, walking to the stovetop to pour two cups of steaming tea. She brought both cups back, handing one over to Hudson before settling back down again.

"Thanks," he mumbled, though he didn't take a drink.

Rhondson reached her hands out, wrapping her slender fingers around his thick, sausage-like digits. Though she was no stranger to hard work, her hands always felt so warm and soft when compared to his calluses.

"Hudson… I know this is hard."

He exhaled heavily, blowing out a breath through his thick mustache. "She just seems so young."

"Yes."

He felt the tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and he blinked rapidly. "Do you think she will be all right? The desert is so far."

"Yes, my dear." Rhondson's tone was patient, although they'd had this conversation numerous times. "She will be well taken care of. My bataan will care for her as one of their own."

"Bataan?"

"Sisters. I know I've told you this before!"

He grunted. She had, but he really had no mind for learning the Gerudo language. His tongue always seemed too fat to be able to make the right sounds, and even after nearly six years, he still struggled to remember the difference between sav'otta and sav'orq.

"And the other kids won't bully her for being an outsider?"

Rhondson laughed. "Of course not! Many vehvi are born outside of the desert. I am hardly the only woman to leave my home to live with my husband in these wet lands."

He nodded slowly, looking down at their hands—both of hers on one of his. She squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture. He had to be strong for his daughter. He knew just how important this moment was for her.

"Eight years, Rhondson."

"I know."

Of course, eight years was merely an estimate. For each Gerudo girl, the process of womanhood was an individual journey. Some reached it earlier than thirteen, while others did not mature until their fifteenth birthday. But for all Gerudo children, the journey began at the age of five.

When they grew old enough to know the difference between a vai and a voe. A woman and a man. That was when Gerudo tradition dictated that all Gerudo vehvi must travel to Gerudo Town to be raised among their sisters and aunts. And while there, until reaching maturity, they were forbidden from physical contact with any men, including their fathers.

"And you're sure she will be all right?"

"Yes, dearest."

He nodded again, not in the least bit comforted.

"Hudson," Rhondson said, squeezing his hand once more. "All Gerudo must undergo this journey. It is part of our culture."

Hudson remained silent for several seconds. "You think that she will want to come back to Tarry Town when she's old enough?"

Rhondson didn't answer at first. Finally, she smiled at him, and he saw some of the pain in her own expression. "I do not know. But she loves you, Hudson. She loves her babo. I do not think that could ever change."

He closed his eyes and then reached up with his free hand to wipe away the tears that slipped free. "I'll be okay. Just hard to believe it's already here."

"It is. She's grown so much."

Rhondson was right, and that was only more apparent when Mattison made her way back to the kitchen, now wearing her Gerudo attire. She had applied makeup and wore her golden hoop earrings now, as well.

Hudson's heart clenched to see her like this. How could she look both so old and so very young? His little girl was going to leave him, and he wouldn't be able to see her grow into a woman. That pain alone was nearly enough for him to announce a stop to this whole thing.

But no. He couldn't be selfish here. He knew how important this was to both Rhondson and Mattison. What kind of husband or father would he be if he wasn't willing to make this sacrifice for them?

Less than an hour later, all three of them were outside, illuminated by the first rays of dawn light peaking out from over the ridge. It would be a beautiful day for the start of a journey, he knew, and he was grateful for that.

Rhondson's mare was saddled and laden with the packs containing Mattison's things, as well as plenty of provisions to see them to the next several towns. The journey to the Gerudo Desert was not a short one by any stretch, and they needed to be well-prepared for whatever challenges may lie before them.

Hudson looked to the east, watching the sun crest the ridge, seeming to light it ablaze with its summer heat. Mattison stood beside him, holding his hand tightly in her own. He kept his face calm, his emotions under control. He would control himself.

Rhondson let out a long breath that caused Hudson's heart to skip a beat. He knew what she would say next.

"Mattison… I think it is time."

There was a long stretch of silence, and then his daughter's hand slipped from his. Goddess, he wanted to grab it again—hold on and never let go. But he didn't. We'll get through this, he told himself, working to keep his expression calm.

Mattison looked up at Hudson, eyes wide, so he bent to embrace her tightly, lifting her up off the ground for several seconds before setting her back down. "Now you—" He cleared his throat. "You listen to your mother while you travel. No running off on your own."

"I won't," Mattison said, solemn. "I promise."

"Good girl." He knelt to look her in the eyes. What was it? The Gerudo phrase was on the tip of his tongue. "Lar… Larniso, vevhini."

"Close," Mattison whispered, grinning. "Lanir'so, babo. I love you."

He grinned in return, embracing her once more before standing upright again. He turned his gaze on Rhondson, whose eyes were shining with tears now. "Now, you be careful, okay? Stick to the roads. I don't like how many monsters we've been seeing lately."

Rhondson scoffed, reaching up to wipe her eyes. "Do not worry. If those traveling merchants can brave the roads, then they will be no problem for two strong Gerudo women."

"That's right!" Mattison said, hands on her hips. "Mama and I aren't afraid of any monsters! If they try to attack us, then we'll beat them up."

Rhondson laughed. "Well, I will. You will stay put on the saddle."

"Yes, Mama."

"Good. Now, come. Let us begin."

Hudson cleared his throat again and reached down, plucking Mattison up and setting her into the two-person saddle, near the front so she could see while she and her mother rode. Then he and Rhondson faced each other.

"Don't worry," she said, smiling. "We'll be all right."

He nodded, trusting that she was right. He would still worry, though. He dearly wished he could go with them. "Just be careful. And—" He tried again to clear the lump in his throat.

Rhondson embraced him, kissing his lips firmly before pressing her face to his shoulder. He felt her shaking slightly, and his vest muffled her voice when she spoke. "I'll make sure she's settled in, and then I will return. I will be back before the end of summer."

He squeezed her tightly, kissing the side of her head before releasing his wife. "All right. Don't rush, though. I don't—I don't want Mattison to be lonely."

Rhondson wiped her eyes and smiled at him. "She won't be. She will be surrounded by sisters who will love her. This, I promise."

He nodded, taking a deep breath and releasing it. He had to be strong for his daughter.

Far too soon after, he watched as the two of them trotted away atop the chestnut mare. He waved, and Mattison twisted in the saddle to wave back at him. He thought she might have been crying, but she was too far away to tell. Which was fine, as that meant she was too far from him to see the tears streaming down his own cheeks.

Don't forget me, Mattison… Promise me you won't forget me.

II

The sun was high overhead as Paya stepped out of the chief's residence, carefully making her way down the stairs with every bit of grace that she could muster. She kept her hand on the banister, just in case she lost her balance.

She wouldn't want another repeat of that embarrassing event.

It wouldn't have been so bad, were it not for the wide-brimmed hat that she had to wear, which, even after several weeks, she still wasn't used to. At least it did a good job of keeping the sun off her fair skin, though. Paya tended to burn far too easily in the summer sun.

Down at the bottom of the stairs, Dorian looked up at her, watching her with the wariness he always showed, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. She appreciated his consideration and was supremely grateful that he had chosen to remain in Kakariko Village. When she reached the bottom, he bowed his head slightly and backed out of her way, allowing her to pass under the arch and out into the central plaza of a Kakariko Village that had changed much in the last few months.

The town had a timeless quality to it. It was a remote place, nestled within a hollow among tall hills and plateaus, with only two roads leading in or out, both requiring travelers to navigate winding roads that led through narrow passes prone to rockslides.

Until just a few years ago, Kakariko saw few visitors. During the era of the Calamity, when cross-country travel was reserved only for the most essential of services, the Sheikah of Kakariko had to be self-sufficient. They grew their own food, raised their own livestock, and employed their own craftsmen to see the village through difficult periods. Merchants visited, but only rarely.

That changed following Calamity Ganon's defeat. As travel became easier and as more Hylians migrated north to the Akkala region, some chose to pass through Kakariko Village, but they never remained for long. Kakariko Village was the home of the Sheikah, after all, and they could be a strange people.

Then the sky fell, holes opened up in the ground all around Hyrule, and several ring-shaped structures and ruins appeared in the sky above, on the hills around, and atop some buildings within Kakariko Village.

Paya sighed as she turned, looking up towards the tall hills just behind the chief's residence. Nestled there, between two peaks, was the ruin that gave the rest of the debris its name. The ring-shaped structure stood upright and was nearly as large as the hills that held it. If it had tipped or fallen, it would have surely smashed Paya's home into kindling, and her with it. The engineers who had come with the Zonai Survey Team believed it to be stable and very unlikely to fall, but it still unnerved Paya to see it there.

She turned purposefully away from it, reminding herself of the need to project calm. After all, she was chief now, and her people looked to her for guidance in these troubling times.

Unfortunately, as she turned, the obscenely tall chief's hat tipped, overbalancing her, and very nearly either toppling off her head or causing her to fall. Dorian was there in a heartbeat, though, grabbing her by the shoulder with one hand and steadying her hat with the other.

"Are you all right, Chief Paya?"

Paya blushed furiously and stood upright, reaching up to adjust the hat atop her head again. It just never sat right. How did her grandmother go around with this on her head for so long? The older woman never complained about it, either.

"I'm all right, Dorian, thank you," she said, straightening out her robes. "And please, you really are welcome to just call me Paya. We've known each other for too long to stand on such formality."

The skin around Dorian's grey eyes wrinkled with his smile. "I don't know if I can do that, Chief Paya. You are, after all, the chief."

The man was teasing her. Paya felt her cheeks flush deeper, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she turned to survey the rest of Kakariko Village. While the ring ruin over her home was the largest and most complete of the ruins, it was certainly not the only one that had fallen during the Upheaval.

Many of the structures had crashed down upon the hills. Several broke apart on impact, scattering debris across the hilltops. Some of these pieces fell into the village, destroying homes and injuring multiple Sheikah.

Most of the injuries were superficial, thankfully. Broken bones and smashed homes could be fixed. Lost lives could not, and thankfully, no lives were lost during those initial events. Still, it had been an arduous time for her people in the weeks immediately following the Upheaval.

Several Sheikah had been trapped in their homes, and the earthquake had caused a rockslide in one of the passes that led out of the village, blocking off that road entirely. And then there was the massive hole that had opened up on the East Hill…

Paya held her head high, though. One day, she hoped to understand why her grandmother felt this was the best time in which to abdicate and name Paya as chief of Kakariko Village and the Sheikah people.

She'd done so shortly before the Upheaval. It had been such an abrupt decision, too, from Paya's perspective. One day, Impa had looked at her, declared that she had grown up, and then proceeded to hand over her hat.

This accursed hat, Paya thought as she felt it sway dangerously on her head.

One might think a woman with so much experience and wisdom after decades of leading her people might stick around to help in the aftermath of the Upheaval, but Impa was as opaque as ever, leaving Paya to figure out a way to lead their people through this trial as soon as she was certain that the worst had passed.

"Paya!"

She turned towards the masculine voice, holding onto the brim of her hat as she did so, to see a tall and rather muscular man with dark, tan skin who wore an open-fronted vest and trousers that had been rolled up to just above his knees walking up to her. He was handsome, with long, wavy dark hair, save for several streaks of blonde, and a pointed goatee.

Tauro had come to the village shortly after the Upheaval, at Paya's invitation. Once they realized that the ruins looked to be Zonai in design, she sent out a request for members of the Zonai Survey Team to come take a look at them. As the leader of the team, Tauro had been among the first to come, eager to lay eyes on the strange ruins and explore their secrets.

"Oh, Mr. Tauro, good morning," Paya said, reaching up to unconsciously brush a lock of silvery hair back behind her ear. She purposely did not look at the man's mostly bare chest and sculpted muscles. "How are you today?"

Tauro flashed her a toothy smile. "Well, I'd say I'm about as pleased as a pickled pike. Calip and I have been poring over those rubbings we took, and I think we've managed to decipher some of those tougher sections. We've got one just about completely translated!"

"That's wonderful! I would love to see what you've found."

"Of course! I can show you right now, if you'd like."

Paya followed him across the open plaza to a partially smashed home that had been converted into a base of operations for the Survey Team. Cado, the home's prior occupant, had gone with Impa on her travels, so it made an ideal location for the team, particularly due to its proximity to the path that led up to the plateau on the northeastern side of the village, where several ruins had fallen.

Wooden scaffolding had been built all around this building, providing platforms with which to study the chunk of ruin that had fallen on the house, as well as to secure it so it didn't collapse further. She probably didn't need to duck her head as she passed under some of the wooden poles, but she did so anyway, conscious of just how tall that hat was.

"Ah! Tauro!" said a balding man with spectacles who was bent over a table covered in sheets of paper. He turned excitedly as they entered, though some of that excitement bled away when he saw Paya. "Chief Paya, hello."

"Hello, Mr. Calip," Paya said, smiling at him. She wasn't sure why he didn't seem to like her, but as she found him to be stuffy and somewhat insufferable, she did not let it bother her much.

Calip looked like he wanted to say something, but Tauro spoke, drawing both of their attention to him. "Chief Paya here wanted to see our breakthrough, Calip! Would you grab those rubbings for us?"

"Oh, right," Calip said, making his way over to a stack of rolled parchment off to one side of the room.

As he did so, Tauro spoke again. "So, Paya, forgive me for asking, but…"

She shook her head. "I haven't seen her again, no."

He grunted and nodded, smiling. "Ahh, well. Couldn't hurt to ask!"

"Certainly not." She returned his smile, feeling a light blush warm her cheeks. He was a rather handsome man, and she would have to be blind not to notice. He also always had a relaxed air about him that reminded her of Link.

At least she didn't get nearly so flustered around him as she had when she first met Link. That had been awful, and it had taken fighting off several members of the Yiga clan alongside him to finally break her of her shyness.

Calip unrolled a large sheet of paper, upon which an etching had been made from a stone tablet that they found in one of the fallen ruins. It contained many foreign-looking symbols and letters, most of which were utterly unintelligible to her, though she'd been trying to learn what she could.

"All right, here we go." Tauro rubbed his hands together in excitement and then leaned over the table, reaching out with one muscular arm to steady himself. "So you remember what these symbols mean, right?"

Paya nodded. "Yes, I think so. That one is… wind, right? And flame? And then this one is… lightning? No, water. And then lightning."

"Good! And then we have time and light."

"Oh!" Paya pointed at the last symbol in the first line of text. "That one means light? Not spirit?"

Tauro grinned, nodding. "Indeed! At first, we thought it might have been spirit, but after reviewing some of the other etchings and reports that we've gotten from other ruins, we're pretty sure this one is light."

He pointed at the next sequence of characters on the page. "Now here's where it gets interesting. So here we've got the symbol for power. See how it's similar to this other symbol for might? And then there's this one—stone."

Paya's eyes searched the page of incomprehensible characters, not at all understanding how it was that Tauro and Calip knew what any of these symbols meant. The Zonai language was very different than ancient Sheikah or old Hylian, relying heavily on the use of characters that represented words or concepts, rather than using an alphabet to make words.

"This one is still giving us some difficulty." Tauro pointed at the character beside the one he'd referred to as stone. "I think it means something like holy or sacred."

"And I think it means secret," Calip said.

"Right. So either sacred or secret." Tauro shrugged. "Anyway, so we've worked out some of these modifiers here—here's a pronoun that means who, and then this looks like an adjective attached to might here, likely something like great or big—and I think we've finally started reeling in some results!"

"Wonderful!" Paya looked up at Tauro, eyebrows raised. "So you can read it? You've translated all of it?"

Tauro brushed some hair back from his face before pointing to each of the characters, explaining the meaning of each one. "Wind, flame, water, lightning, time light. Who holds the power… sacred stone… Dwell within… power amplify… great might display."

"Oh, well, that…" Paya frowned at the etching. "That's wonderful, but what do you think it all means?"

Tauro laughed. "That's what we're still trying to figure out! Zonai sentence structure is a little different than ours. Thankfully, we have managed to piece together a rough idea.

"What I think it's trying to say is that those who held power over wind, flame, water, lightning, time, and light amplified that power with something called sacred or secret stones." He pointed at the final line. "That's what this part is saying, see? They used the stones to attain or display great might."

"Interesting…" Paya stared down at the text. "I wonder what that means, though. What is a sacred stone?"

Tauro stood up straight and shrugged again. "Your guess is as good as mine. The important thing here, though, is that I think with this as a baseline, we'll be able to start tackling some of the other etchings."

"It won't take us long at all," Calip said, looking back at the other rolled papers. "But there are probably plenty of other slabs that we weren't able to get etchings from. If the princess could just permit us to start exploring the ruins again—"

"Calip." Tauro shot him a look. "I'm sure the princess has her reasons, and Chief Paya has been gracious enough to let us continue with the information we had already collected before Zelda instructed us to stop. Let's not forget the catch we have in hand for the one that got away, hmm?"

"Right. Of course, Tauro."

Paya sighed softly, looking away from them and up through the scaffolding at one particular chunk of ruin that hung, suspended in the air, far overhead. Several pieces of the ring ruins hadn't fallen, but merely floated in the air like that, though that one was by far the largest of them.

More scaffolding had been erected to gain access to that specific ruin, but progress on building it had stagnated over the last few weeks, after Zelda had briefly visited Kakariko Village and instructed them to stop poking around at the ruins.

She'd appeared at night, shortly after the survey team had arrived and started doing their research. Paya was out walking, mostly just to be present for her people, when Zelda had spoken from just behind her. It had startled Paya so much that, when she spun around, her chief's hat had fallen off her head, clattering to the ground.

Once the shock had passed, though, it had been such a relief to see her. Zelda and Link had been missing for weeks, ever since they went underground, and Paya had fretted endlessly over their safety. To see her alive and well had brought such hope to her heart that she didn't even worry about dropping the hat. If Link and Zelda were all right, then everything would be well.

Except… Zelda hadn't seemed right. Her expression hadn't been cold, so much as it had been unreadable. Her hands remained at her sides, not moving as she spoke, and her voice… Well, it was hard for Paya to put her finger on it. It sounded like Zelda, of course, but there was something wrong about it, too.

Immediately, she worried that something had happened to Link during their journey. Had he been hurt? Killed? Was Zelda mourning her loss? Paya nearly panicked as she asked about him.

Zelda didn't answer Paya's question, though. Instead, she simply looked up at the ruins and told Paya that she was to order the research team to stop entering them, offering no other explanation, other than to say that all would become clear in time.

Paya had been too stunned and confused to argue. She wished she'd asked more questions or even demanded answers. Why had Zelda come? Where was Link? Why shouldn't they enter the ruins? What was happening to Hyrule?

But before she could force the questions out, Zelda floated away. She flew, rising above Paya's head, before dissolving into a ball of light that shot away into the night, in the direction of Hyrule Castle. And Paya had been left dumbfounded, more confused than ever.

Zelda hadn't even asked about Impa or how the villagers fared after the ruins fell.

Paya shook the memory of that night from her mind. There was no changing that now, and she could only hope that Zelda would eventually visit again to offer more answers. Purah had visited a week ago to tell her that Link lived and was on his way to help the Rito, though some of the other things she said made little sense to Paya. Still, she'd wept for joy at the news.

"Keep it up," she said, turning her attention back to Tauro and Calip. "I'd love to hear what else you discover."

III

Yunobo reached up to wipe dust and salt from his brow, looking up towards the mouth of Death Mountain. This close, he could smell the strange, acrid smell that was coming from the reddish gas that spewed from its crater, and he wondered if the old volcano was going to start erupting again soon.

Hopefully, the diversion barriers we built will keep the lava out of the mines if it does, he thought, frowning. He really would need to do some work to shore those up. It was one thing for a Goron to encounter a bit of lava, but it would be another thing entirely for one of his Hylian miners.

Mostly, he just hoped that Death Mountain wasn't about to start erupting. These last six years of relative peace under the volcano's shadow had been good for the Gorons, and he hated to think that would end.

Assuming it hasn't already. He turned, looking out over Hyrule, his expression concerned. Hyrule Castle was there, lifted by that huge pillar, and this high up, he was nearly at the same level as some of those lower floating islands. What's even going on around here now?

He wished he still had Rudania. He understood why Zelda and those Sheikah folks decided that it and the other Divine Beasts weren't safe to keep around, but he always felt stronger when driving it around Death Mountain. It was like his grandfather was still with him.

Yunobo clenched his fists, and a fiery shield appeared in the air around him, spinning slowly. This power had been his constant companion since he was young, and one that he'd inherited from his grandfather, Daruk. It took the form of a solid shield made of fire and air, somewhat spherical, though it was angular, due to being made up of triangle-shaped facets.

As a young Goron, it had protected Yunobo, but as an adult, Yunobo had more often used it to protect others, just as he knew Daruk had done. Sometimes, though, it felt good to just stand within it for a little bit, especially when things seemed less certain.

I hope you get back soon, Link, he thought, letting out a heavy sigh. He still hadn't heard anything since Link and Zelda went on their expedition. Surely, they'd know what was going on with the flying islands and stuff.

He released his shield and turned back to look up at Death Mountain again. His eyes fell on a small fissure just a little way up. It was located right where a lava track had once been, and much of the stone around it had that smooth, melted, and then hardened appearance.

It was exactly what he was looking for up here.

As Yunobo climbed the steep slope, he felt his belly grumbling, and he patted it. I'll bet you anything that there's going to be some good rock roasts in there!

Climbing Death Mountain wasn't hard for him. The heat that emanated from the volcano was comfortable under his bare feet, and the craggy surface made it easy to find places to scale when he couldn't just walk up the slope. Some Gorons got nervous about going so high up, but not him.

Not since I jumped into the volcano after Link that one time, anyway.

He reached the fissure, which had a narrow, almost level shelf of rock jutting out from the mountain in front of it. He thought that it might have once been a boulder that had fallen with the flow of lava and eventually got stuck here when the lava hardened again. Either way, it was perfect for his purposes.

Yunobo stretched his arms out in front of him, interlocking and cracking his fingers. He rolled his neck and even did a few squats to loosen himself up. The fissure was far too narrow for a Goron to get through, but he could fix that.

He reached back and removed the giant tool from his back. The boulder breaker was a nice combination of a club and a pickaxe, with a two-handed grip and a thick blade with tapered edges that didn't do much for cutting but was excellent for wedging into cracks and splitting stone. The tool had the symbol for the Goron people—a kite-like diamond shape with three triangles over it—grafted onto the blade.

The fact that he had this tool at all was an honor, as this one had been crafted to look just like the old weapon that Daruk had once wielded. Bludo had it forged for him right after Calamity Ganon had been defeated six years ago. There were other boulder breakers, but there was only one like this.

Yunobo took a deep breath and then began to swing it at the crack in the side of the volcano. It didn't take long for him to widen the opening—if Gorons were good at one thing, it was breaking big rocks open—and soon he was sweeping rubble and pieces of broken rock out of the opening with his hands.

As he'd hoped, it looked as though the fissure had once been the mouth of an old magma tube. The tunnel past the opening he'd made wasn't very big, but he could make it work. It was very dark inside, though.

He set his boulder breaker down, leaning the handle up against the side of the opening, and stepped just within the tunnel before holding his hand up in front of him. Okay, let's see if I can make this work again.

Recently, he'd been experimenting with ways to use his shield power in ways other than just the big, protective bubble, but he hadn't gotten the hang of it yet. When he tried now, the shield ended up just appearing around him again, though it was smaller than normal, thanks to the confines of the tunnel.

He dismissed it and then clenched his hand into a fist. C'mon, Yunobo. You got this. You made it work just a few days ago!

He focused, eyes on his closed fist, trying to shape the shield into something useful. It took two more tries before, finally, a smaller version of the shield popped into being around his fist.

"Yes!" he said, pumping his other fist into the air—and accidentally punching the ceiling of the tunnel. "Ow!" Thankfully, the shield wasn't hard to maintain after he conjured it into being, and he kept it up while shaking his aching other hand.

This application of the ability might not have seemed all that useful to many people. The shield was small, almost like a glove that had been slipped over his fist, and wouldn't protect much. He could probably punch something pretty hard with it, but Goron fists were plenty effective by themselves.

But the shield was still made of fire, and like all kinds of fire, it brought with it light. As such, Yunobo could make his hand into a torch, which made exploring dark caverns inside and under mountains a lot easier.

Grinning, he walked into the magma tube, holding his hand above his head to cast just enough light by which to see. It wasn't super bright, but it was enough. I wonder if Daruk was ever able to do stuff like this, he wondered. He'd been experimenting with other applications, too, though this was the one he'd managed to make work most often.

The tube went deep into the side of Death Mountain and branched off in several different directions. Using a piece of rock, he marked the walls as he walked so he'd know which passages he'd already explored.

It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. After one passage led towards a collapsed section that he could likely have cleared but chose not to, he made his way down another branch and found a larger section with a shallow bowl-shaped floor. And at the bottom of that bowl was exactly the kind of boulder that he'd been hoping to find.

Grinning, Yunobo hurried to the rock, finding a sharp piece that he was able to break off without much difficulty. The type of rock that Gorons referred to as rock roast was pretty brittle, easy to break, and absolutely delicious.

He groaned in delight as he crunched the stone between his teeth, chewing it before swallowing. "Oh, yeah… That's the good stuff." He broke another piece off, biting into it, and as he did so, he looked around the small cavern he'd found himself in.

There were two exits to the cavern that he could see with his shield light. One that he'd entered from and another off to the side. He tilted his head when he looked at that opening, squinting. Was something in there glowing?

He tucked his shining hand behind his back and confirmed it. There was something down that tunnel that was giving off a faint, reddish-violet glow. Not at all unlike the haze that was rising from the volcano's crater.

Yunobo frowned, considering his options, and then broke off another rock roast before walking towards the opening. The glow grew as he neared, and soon he saw what was causing it. This passage was small—not a tunnel at all, but merely a deep depression in the cavern's wall just large enough for a Goron to stand in.

Its walls, however, were made up of a kind of rock that Yunobo had never seen before. It actually looked somewhat like the rock roast, though it was a darker shade of grey, and it had strange, reddish veins spreading throughout it, exposed by cracks, giving it a marbled appearance.

It made Yunobo think of a rock roast heated to the point of having a molten core, but the coloring was wrong. Grilled rock roast usually had a fiery orange center, not this dark, almost violet red.

"What is this?" he wondered aloud, reaching out and touching it with an open palm. Did it have anything to do with the way Death Mountain had been behaving lately? "Maybe I should take some down to Bludo. I'll bet he'd know what this is…"

The sound of a foot scuffing on stone made him spin around quickly, yelping in surprise. At once, the shield disappeared from his hand and encompassed his entire body, making it somewhat difficult to see the small-looking Hylian standing just outside of it.

He squinted, trying to make them out. It was a woman, he thought, in some kind of long dress. Short hair that framed her face.

Wait…

He knew her.

"Zelda? What are you doing here?"

IV

Robbie ached all over. He hated admitting that, especially to Jerrin, who liked to tease him for getting old, and even more so to Purah, who enjoyed claiming a simple fact like aging to be a point of victory. But he certainly did ache—his knees, his back, his hips, the bottoms of his feet.

But he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not when there were new discoveries to be made. He didn't know how long he had left in this life, but he wouldn't waste even a minute of it on something like retirement.

Besides, for a man nearly one hundred and thirty years old, Robbie was still quite spry. He still had plenty of pep in his step, thank you very much!

He considered himself something like that old grandfather clock they'd discovered half-buried under rubble in the castle a couple of years back. It wasn't perfect; it needed a little bit of work and maintenance, but when he was done with it, it still worked. It may have been well over a hundred years old, and it was still able to serve its purpose.

And this is my purpose? he thought as he stared down into the black pit in the ground. Malice stained the ground around the hole, making the grass wither and die, and though the spread was slow, it was spreading.

They hadn't noticed the spread at first. The Malice wasn't consistent all around the hole to begin with, reaching out like tendrils in some areas while other spots hung back, as if hesitant to cross over from shadow into light. However, his close observation over these last few days had revealed some key details.

First of all, the Malice didn't like light. Specifically, sunlight! From what he'd been able to tell from his measurements, it only expanded during periods of darkness, while it would then slowly regress during daylight hours. Progress was slow, and the only way he was able to tell that there was any difference in the Malice between dusk and dawn was by careful observation and using stakes to mark its place.

Secondly, while the Malice regressed during the day, it still made progress overall. Robbie had been here for a week, and he had started measuring the Malice's spread four days prior. Though they were in summer, and daylight hours were longer than night currently, the Malice spread faster at night than it shrank during the day.

I'd hate to see how fast it would spread if this crisis happened in the middle of winter, he thought grimly.

At least for now, its progress was slow. They hadn't reached the solstice yet, so hopefully, there was time to figure this stuff out.

"Unless, of course, there's an unknown factor in this," he muttered, running his hands through his wispy hair.

"What's that, Goggles?"

Robbie ignored Josha, who had gotten permission from Purah to come along with him on this expedition, it would seem. She was a bright girl, and he appreciated her insights, but she also tended to always act as though she were the smartest in the room, much like her mentor. She'd arrived only the day before.

Another observation that Robbie had been able to make regarding the Malice was its strange effect on metal. Using wooden stakes, he had been able to mark the substance's progress, not only along the grass, but as the Malice slowly consumed the wood as well, rotting it from the inside out.

The Malice's progression on the wood was mostly consistent with its slow spread over the grassy plain, though perhaps a touch faster. The stake he'd placed in the ground four days ago as his first marker had small tendrils of Malice rising up its sides like creeping vines, but only about two inches of the wood had been completely covered by the stuff.

But when the Malice had reached a hunting knife that had been carelessly left on the ground, the effect had been far faster. Overnight, the substance had spread all along the knife's metal blade, coating it. When the sun had driven some of the oily residue back, the blade underneath was ruined.

At first, Robbie thought that the blade was simply rusted, but when he looked at it more closely, he found that the metal had been terribly corroded. The Malice had eaten away at the metal, leaving its edge dull, its surface pockmarked and brown, and the blade itself extremely brittle. It had snapped in half with just a little pressure.

Naturally, the next day, he decided to measure the Malice's spread by driving a sword into the ground as his marker. Then he watched by lamplight as it crept up the surface of the sword, like living tentacles reaching. Consuming. Destroying.

The next day, the sword was useless. Like the dagger, its blade was corroded and ruined, and it made Robbie think of another sword, long ago, that had suffered a similar fate. Only this simple, steel broadsword couldn't be healed of its wounds like the Master Sword had been.

Could it be that the Malice simply consumes living or organic material more slowly?

Malice had never behaved in that manner during the Calamity. It appeared where Ganon's strength was strongest, true, and it would corrode surfaces, especially stone and concrete. But it had done so far slower. And it had never spread like this.

However, there had been one more, far more hopeful discovery.

Close to the gaping hole in the ground, a chunk of rock and dirt had fallen from the sky. At first, Robbie had dismissed it. The ancient piece of a sky island above was interesting, but there had been no sign of Zonai technology or anything else more important than his experiments with the Malice.

But then he noticed a very curious flower that grew up out of some of the dirt that had fallen with the chunk of stone. It had a strange, golden hue—yellow leaves, a yellow-brown stem, and a blooming flower with five petals that were a deep gold in the center and brown to black at their edges.

Robbie had never seen such a flower before, though it looked familiar. At first, he'd found it to be nothing but an idle curiosity. The flower, carried by dirt that had been thrown free of the chunk of island, had ended up on a small mound of earth right at the edge of the Malice's growth.

Then, in a small circle around the flower, the Malice had retreated.

The flower changed everything. Upon seeing that, Robbie had immediately sent others who were part of the crew off to find more. They'd managed to come back with two, which was enough for Robbie to begin some basic experiments with, including one where he took a bloom from one such flower and added it to a soup pot.

All of it, of course, led to that moment. There he was, standing in a basket held aloft by a crane. Josha was there, as were two others who were part of the research team. At a signal, the basket would be lowered and them with it, down into the depths of Hyrule. Each of them had a flask containing a vegetable broth that had been cooked with that flower.

I'm getting much too old for this, he thought before smiling wryly and slipping his goggles down over his eyes.

"Let's go!" he said, pointing a finger at the men operating the crane. The basket shook slightly and then, haltingly, it began to lower.

V

The Demon King sat in darkness. His power was such that he did not need to venture to the world above to influence and guide it on the path of his choosing. Already, his creations and sycophants worked to prepare Hyrule for his true return. He need not rush. He could bide his time.

His heart, shriveled with age and decomposition, beat a steady rhythm in his emaciated chest. He breathed, and lungs, thin and brittle, filled with stale air. Though his joints cracked with every movement, he could move them.

He was alive. He was free. And Rauru, that cursed creature, was gone, though his influence remained.

The old Zonai had reason to be proud, the Demon King mused. Not only had Rauru's trick kept him bound for countless generations, all but forgotten in the annals of history, but his chosen champion was far more tenacious than he'd initially thought when seeing the man. Already, he had managed to overcome one of the Demon King's plots and found a bearer for the Sacred Stone.

Where lesser beings might rage as their plans unraveled, the Demon King merely watched through the eyes of his puppets. Every action the man called Link took taught the Demon King something about him. And though Link moved quickly, what he did not realize was that every step he took forward was a step further from his goal.

For every day that passed was a day that the Demon King, once a man known as Ganondorf, the King of the Gerudo, grew in strength.

In that first moment of freedom, the Demon King had been at his most vulnerable. His power had been steadily siphoned off by Rauru throughout their long struggle. Though he had devastated the man, Link, with a mere fraction of his true power, the effort had cost the Demon King greatly.

And the sword…

How had such a small shard—such a tiny, feeble thing—left such a wound on him? The cut on his cheek burned with the heat of the Gerudo sun, despite the weeks that had passed. The Demon King reached up, his joints popping, to brush the cut. The skin on his cheek was brittle and paper-thin, and the sliver of that shining sword had cut him like the sharpest of blades.

The sword had power. True power. And while the Demon King did not doubt that he, at the height of his strength, could easily overcome the blade, in that moment, he had been far more vulnerable than he had expected. Had his head been turned, or had he been positioned a mere hand's breadth to the side, even that small sliver might have left him a corpse in truth.

He dragged his finger along the sliced skin of his cheek and felt… familiarity.

And the Demon King found himself wondering just why the sensation of that sword's power was one that he found so familiar, despite never encountering anything of its like before.

The Sword that Seals the Darkness.

He lowered his hand, and in the darkness, he sat, waiting and growing in strength. He would not be so vulnerable the next time he encountered the swordsman known as Link.

Chapter Text

~Part Two~

Chapter Nineteen: Meeting a King

Zelda cut her scream short, though her eyes remained wide as she scrambled back from the two crouching before her. The tan-skinned Hylian woman and…

The Zonai.

Oh, Hylia, what—

"Who?" Zelda swallowed, looking about and noticing the grassy meadow that she sat in, as well as trees that could have belonged in any number of forests and glades in Hyrule. "Where?"

The two strangers looked nonplused, glancing at each other. The woman's hand remained up, palm out towards Zelda in a supplicating gesture. The Zonai's ears drooped slightly, and he gave the woman a small nod.

"We ne myndten nat yow for to afere," the woman said, and at first, her words were mere gibberish. Familiar sounding, yet not the language that was commonly spoken across Hyrule.

Wait… Don't I…

"Y sor. Hit bith al riht. Min name is Sonia."

It clicked in Zelda's mind. She did recognize the language being spoken, though it had been so long since she heard it used. In fact, the only place she had ever heard it spoken aloud was in her lessons as a youth, though she'd read it and variations of it in countless texts in her castle library.

It's… Ancient Hyrulean, isn't it? But why would—what did she say? "We no… meant not you for to fear?" Afraid. Ah! We didn't mean to scare you.

Sonia and the Zonai looked confused, and perhaps they should have been, considering her protracted silence. But Zelda's eyes darted about as she worked to recall her training in the supposedly dead language.

"Ond mihten we asken hwat is thin name?" the Zonai man said, stroking his chin, which had a tuft of fur beneath it like a goatee.

Link's right—he does have a somewhat goat-like appearance, doesn't he? What did he ask? Their accent doesn't match up with what my teachers taught at all. Oh! My name. Right.

"My—no—min name is Zelda." Her accent was off, but the vocabulary here, at least, was fairly close to modern Hyrulean.

"O, Zelda! Thaet is a wynsum name," Sonia said, smiling warmly.

The Zonai continued to look curious, and perhaps even a little distrustful, towards Zelda. "Mmm, ya. Nou telle me, Zelda. Hu come thou to be here, on thaes castelles grund?"

Once again, Zelda's mind worked to parse together the language and translate it. She thought that she could understand most of it, though the accent was still somewhat of a struggle for her.

Wait, did he say castle? Where am I?

"I…" She cleared her throat and tried her best to speak in their Ancient Hyrulean dialect. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little bit…"

How would I say confused? Ah! Gemenged!

"Confused. Where am I?" Zelda was fairly certain that her language tutors would have wept to hear her poor attempt at the language. But it was good enough, she thought.

Once more, Sonia and Zonai looked at each other before the woman spoke, more slowly this time, perhaps recognizing Zelda's inexperience with the language. "You do not know where you are, dear?"

She could understand that a little better now, internally translating the words as Sonia spoke. But before she could formulate the correct response, the Zonai spoke again.

"Why, you're on the grounds of Hyrule Castle. You seem to have somehow made it past my guards, too."

Hyrule Castle? The words struck Zelda like a physical blow. Surely, she had to be mistaken, but neither of those words was all that different in the modern context. But if she hadn't misunderstood, then what could he mean?

"I don't understand," she said, frowning, her words coming out stilted. It was a miracle that she could remember her vocabulary at all, much less things like grammatical rules and pronunciation. "You said this is Hyrule Castle?"

"Yes, dear, that's right," Sonia said, nodding. "You're on our castle grounds. I am Queen Sonia, and this is my husband, King Rauru."

Quen… Kyng… The queen and king of Hyrule.

She knew their names. She knew them. But the implications—could it even be possible? And if so, how?

She tried to keep herself calm, analyzing the situation she found herself in like she would a confusing passage in a book or a problem with one of the Divine Beasts. If what they spoke was the truth—if these two truly were the legendary figures Queen Sonia and King Rauru from Hyrulean lore, the very founders of Hyrule itself, then…

"Rauru, look…" Sonia reached out, picking up a small teardrop-shaped stone from the ground. It still shone with a soft yellow glow.

Rauru's ears immediately perked higher as he reached out, taking the stone from Sonia's hand and turning it over. He looked at the tan-skinned woman silently for several moments before turning his gaze back on Zelda.

"Tell me, Zelda. How did you find this?"

Zelda looked at the stone in Rauru's hand. It was the one she'd picked up in that cavern—the one that fell from the back of that spectral hand. It looked different now, though, than it did when she picked it up.

Initially, it had glowed with a soft, pale light, colorless as opposed to the definite yellow glow it had now. And she didn't recall seeing any kind of symbol etched into it then, either, as opposed to now.

Time…

Could it be possible? Had she somehow traveled back through time?

"I found it…"

Her thoughts spun. She'd picked up the stone, and then she fell. The next moments were such a blur. The swallowing blackness, the shining stone, and Link leaping after her.

Oh, Link!

Her heart raced at the thought of her husband making that leap after her. He'd halted in mid-fall, hadn't he? Had he grabbed the ledge to stop his fall? Was he all right? And oh, Hylia, what of that creature they found? Even if Link hadn't fallen, what could he do against the being they found there? It had shattered the Master Sword so effortlessly. But hadn't it been falling into the pit as well?

She began to breathe rapidly, her heart beating faster and faster. Her eyes darted. What happened? What can I do? Where am I? Where's Link? Is he all right? Is he alive? Am I alive? Each thought bled into the next—a jumble of voices in her head, all of her own making. Sweat prickled on her brow. She felt too hot—why was the sun so hot now?

She heard a soft, keening sound, and it took her several moments to realize that the sound was emanating from her own lips.

"Ah, Sonia!" Rauru said, sounding startled.

And suddenly Zelda felt warmth as two arms encircled her, pulling her close. The woman, Sonia, had moved closer to her, embracing her. The feeling shocked Zelda, silencing the panicking voices in her head and gradually bringing her back to the present. The past.

Tears threatened to spill over onto her cheeks, but she forced herself to regain some semblance of control. She'd been here before. In the months following Ganon's defeat, she'd woken countless times in cold sweats, hyperventilating and suffering from dream and memory-induced panics. Her sleep was interrupted so often that she began to drink a special brew of tea before bed to induce a deeper slumber.

Link had oft held her like this, wrapping his arms around her and whispering soft words of comfort, just as she realized Sonia was doing now.

"Sōfte, cild, sōfte…" Easy, child, easy…

Zelda's breath hitched twice before she was able to finally let out a long, slow breath and speak again. "I… Thank you. I am all right now."

Sonia released her, settling back on her knees and watching Zelda with a concerned expression. That was when Zelda noticed Sonia's teardrop-shaped stone and the etching it bore. Time… It was the same as the one that Zelda had picked up. Identical.

Silence enveloped them. Both Rauru and Sonia observed her, less with concern now and more as if she were a cornered animal. Zelda steadied herself, realizing her need to regain some control over the situation. Rauru held the stone she had picked up—the stone she suspected might be responsible for bringing her to this time—and she needed to retrieve it.

"I was deep underground. My husband and I—we were investigating a strange miasma that was poisoning our people." Zelda tried hard to recall her lessons, and even though they seemed to understand her, she could tell that she got some things wrong. When she mentioned the miasma, however, Rauru and Sonia both looked at each other with concern.

"A miasma? Where?" Rauru said.

Sonia added, "Do people need medical attention?"

Zelda quickly shook her head. She needed to get to the point. "No, no, it—" She exhaled. "I'm not from your land. Or I should say, I'm not from your time."

Sonia gasped softly, glancing towards the stone still held in Rauru's hand. "Could it be…"

Rauru looked intently at Zelda's face, his expression alien and unreadable to her. He said nothing but nodded to her to continue.

"I believe that I—somehow—went back through time. You see, I am Zelda—Princess Zelda—daughter of King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. And you… Both of you are recorded in our histories—truly, our legends—as Hyrule's founders."

"Ah, legends! Do you hear that, my dear queen? We are legends in the future." Rauru looked at Sonia, smiling.

Sonia gave the Zonai a flat look. "Rauru. Don't tease. You must see that she has been through a harrowing experience."

Rauru shook his head. "No, no, I meant no teasing." He looked at Zelda, and his expression seemed softer, though on his animal-like face, it was hard to tell. "I know that she is telling at least some truth."

Zelda blinked. "You do?"

Rauru held up the stone. "Why yes. You see, Zelda—" He held up her stone. "This Sacred Stone is mine. Or, I should say, it used to be mine, before you claimed it." He closed the fist of his left hand around it and turned his hand so she could see the back of it.

Rauru wore an intricate-looking bracer made of thin lines, curves, and sharp angles, crafted from stone or another hard material, exposing much of his bare hand underneath. On the back of the bracer, attached by a small chain, was another teardrop-shaped stone.

And she knew. That hand—his hand—was the very one that had been there in the cavern with them. The one that had rested on that creature's chest. The one that had fallen, lifeless, releasing the stone that had bounced across the floor and come to rest at her feet. The very stone that transported her to this place, far in Hyrule's past.

She knew one other thing, too. One way or another, her being here was no accident.

"Is that so?" Sonia asked, eyebrows raising.

"Oh, yes. Quite. I knew it for what it was the moment I held it."

"Then it seems to me that this young woman is certainly no thief," Sonia said, looking again at Zelda and smiling. There seemed to be genuine warmth in that smile, too.

"Indeed," Rauru said. And then, surprisingly, he turned his hand over, palm up and open, and held the stone out for Zelda to take. "I will give this back to you then. It would seem that it has chosen you as my replacement, Princess Zelda."

Zelda hesitantly reached out, taking the stone. She expected to feel something upon taking it and was surprised when she felt… nothing. Nothing but the stone's warmth, which seemed to radiate out from within.

Was it truly this that brought me back?

"Now, why don't we make our way back to the castle?" Sonia said. "I am certain that some refreshments would not be amiss."

Rauru stood. "And along the way, you can tell us more about how you encountered this stone and how you came to find yourself here."

Sonia stood, placing a hand on Rauru's arm. "Dear, I think it would be unwise for her to tell you how she came to find the stone."

Rauru looked at her, frowning. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Because time can be fickle. If you learn too much about the future, then that could influence you in unpredictable ways." Sonia looked down at Zelda, still seated on the ground. "Particularly if it involves your future."

The Zonai considered for several moments before nodding. "Well, then, who am I to question the wisdom of the queen?"

"The queen who also happens to be the Sage of Time."

Sage of Time? Zelda thought, her eyes falling again on the other woman's stone.

Sonia turned back to Zelda and extended her hand. "Come. I am sure that you must be feeling overwhelmed."

Zelda looked at her hand, feeling the hints of her earlier panic beginning to boil up within her once again. "In my time, something terrible is happening."

A blade that shatters so easily cannot hope to save you from my power.

The creature's terrible eyes. Its rasping voice. The power that it wielded.

Oh, Link, you must be all right!

"I need to get back, but I don't—I don't—" Her voice hitched, and she had to try to swallow the lump forming in her throat as new tears threatened to spill over. "I don't even know how I got here in the first place."

"Now, Zelda, dear…" Sonia knelt again, reaching out and placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to solve all your problems at once. Why don't you come with us?"

"No, I—"

"Shh… It will be all right." Sonia took her hands and gently but firmly pulled her to her feet. "Perhaps we will tell everyone that you are a… distant relative of ours. Which isn't so far from the truth." She laughed softly.

"I suppose she is part of the royal family in her time," Rauru said, rubbing his chin.

Sonia looked over her shoulder at him. "Oh, you can't sense it? I can feel not only my time power within her, but your light power, as well. I am certain that I can also sense a blood connection between us."

"So, it is more truth than fiction," Rauru said, smiling.

"A blood connection?" Zelda looked between the two of them, one Hylian and one Zonai. "Do you mean that you…"

"But of course!" Sonia said. "A kingdom must have an heir, after all. And it seems you are living proof that our line continues long after we are gone."

But that would mean I have Zonai lineage, Zelda thought, incredulous. That wasn't an outrageous idea, as the Zonai were known to have been a powerful, or at least influential, civilization in Hyrule's ancient history. But she and most historians had always believed they were an offshoot of Hylians, much like the Sheikah or Gerudo are generally considered to be.

"Oh, dear, now we've confused you," Sonia said, smiling and reaching an arm around Zelda's shoulders, guiding her forward. "Come. We've said enough. I'm sure you have many questions, but I would hate to keep you in the sun any longer than necessary. Your complexion is so fair."

The Hyrule that stretched before Zelda was not her Hyrule.

Oh, it still had some of the same landmarks. Far to the north stood Death Mountain, though it looked far more peaceful than the volcano had in her time, with white smoke rising and forming a ring over its mouth. West of that was the Hebra Mountain range, though they looked different. Mount Hebra was whole, lacking the scooped-out section that she was so familiar with in her time. Another difference was the Dueling Peaks to the east, or at least the mountain that would one day be split down the middle to become the Dueling Peaks.

But the sight that shocked Zelda more than anything else was that of Hyrule Field. And the lack thereof.

In her age, Hyrule Field stretched for miles. It was a hilly plain with lakes and streams, plenty of forests, and ample fertile land for farming and ranching. Before the Calamity had struck, there had been many towns and villages, military garrisons, and travelers' outposts, capped to the north by Hyrule Castle Town and the castle itself.

In this ancient age, however, it was… a swampy forest. Multiple rivers cut through it, and she could even see a lake easily as large, if not even larger, than Lake Hylia in her era, in the middle of it. She could barely even make out a small mountain, maybe even a rocky-looking hill, that her Hyrule Castle would one day be built upon.

"It's so different," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Sonia stood next to her, silent. All three of them stood on a grassy outcrop overlooking much of the land. And while much of this Hyrule was unfamiliar to her, she knew exactly where they were now. She could easily pinpoint their location on a map.

This was the very spot that, thousands of years from now, Link would emerge out onto after slumbering in hibernation following the Great Calamity. She still remembered that moment, watching him wake, as much as she was able to while in her spiritual form. Watching as he stumbled about, confused and without any memories of his past life, and finally exited the Chamber of Resurrection to stand on this very hill in the middle of the Great Plateau and look out over a very different-looking Hyrule.

How strange it was to think that he must have felt somewhat like she did now. Confused. Awed. Afraid.

She wished she were home.

Sonia looked at her. "Are you all right?"

Zelda didn't answer for a few moments, taking in more of the vista. The land was healthy and beautiful, even more lush than the Hyrule of her time, and certainly wetter. She wondered how other regions fared. Was Faron still tropical? What of Necluda? Without the Dueling Peaks and the river cutting through the middle of them, would its climate be different, as well?

"I… It is surreal. It is Hyrule—I recognize so much of it. But those similarities only make the differences stand out all the more."

"I can only imagine," Sonia said, nodding, her earrings tinkling softly with the movement.

"That lake does not exist in my time. The forest doesn't, either. Instead, it's a wide field, well-populated by Hylians."

Rauru stepped up beside her, rubbing his chin. "Interesting. I imagine the Zora would not be pleased to hear that."

Zelda turned her head to look at Rauru, eyes wide. "The Zora? They live there? In Hyrule Field?"

Rauru nodded. "Oh, yes. Some do, at least. They spread from Lake Hylia, through the Naydra Ridge, and out to the sea."

"Amazing… And the Rito? Gorons? Gerudo? They are all present in this time as well?"

"Mmm, yes. The Rito inhabit the lands to the northwest—Hebra. The Gorons live under Mount Eldin over there—"

"Mount Eldin?"

Rauru looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Oh! Yes. Mount Eldin—the volcano."

"Really?" Zelda's voice rose slightly in pitch as she felt a surge of excitement. The Zora lived in a lake that didn't even exist in her time, and what had Rauru said? The Gorons lived under the volcano? "In my time, it's called Death Mountain."

The Zonai's ears drooped low. "Best not say that around any Gorons. It isn't considered polite, and they tend to be touchy when that name is brought up."

"Oh?"

Sonia smiled, patting Rauru's arm. "My husband nearly ended up having to wrestle the Goron chief for making that mistake many years ago."

"Were it not for dear Queen Sonia, I am certain that Chief Gor would have pulled my arms off and beat me over the head with them," Rauru said, chuckling softly. "So, I've never made that mistake again."

"Fascinating…" Zelda's hands itched to write this down, and she wished she had her satchel. At least she hadn't lost her Purah Pad. It remained hanging from its place on her waist. Where had the satchel gone, though? It must have slipped off while she was falling and—oh, Link. Please be all right!

The miserable thought of Link trying to catch her and being left with that demon-like creature distracted her, and it wasn't until Rauru had finished speaking that she even realized he had said anything. "Oh? I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said the Gerudo are in the desert to the southwest. They tend to keep to themselves, though. In fact, they outright threatened the envoys I sent to them in the past. Our two nations are not on the best of terms, at the moment."

Zelda did her best to shake off the memory, focusing again on Rauru's words. "Curious… In my time, the Gerudo aren't like that at all. Their culture can be odd to outsiders, and they do not allow men in their capital, of course, but I've always found them to be very welcoming."

"No men in their capital, you say?" Sonia asked, eyebrows raised. She turned her head to look at Rauru.

The Zonai king stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, now, isn't that interesting? I suppose it's not so different now, though they are certainly willing to accommodate one man in their city."

At Zelda's confused expression, Sonia smiled and explained. "The only male that we know of in Gerudo lands is their king."

"King? You mean, a male Gerudo?"

Both Rauru and Sonia nodded.

King? Of the Gerudo? Zelda knew that a Gerudo woman could give birth to a male child, but it was so exceedingly rare that many Gerudo considered it to be a fanciful tale. She had never met a male Gerudo before, herself, though she remembered Urbosa, the Gerudo Champion, telling her of meeting one.

From what Zelda could remember, a male Gerudo was only allowed entrance to Gerudo Town until he reached puberty. At that time, he would be forced to leave, either to join one of the outlying tribes or to leave the desert entirely. It always felt cruel to Zelda, but the Gerudo were nearly as unchangeable as the rising sun.

Certainly, no male would ever be made chief in her time—or king.

"I take it that the Gerudo don't have a king in your time?" Rauru said, curious.

"No, not at all."

Rauru and Sonia exchanged glances once more, but neither spoke of what passed between them in that look. Finally, Sonia smiled and clapped her hands together. "Well! Zelda, if you are ready, let's keep going. We'll find a room for you back at the castle, and I can have the royal seamstress begin work on some new garments for you."

"Oh! Right." Zelda looked down at herself. "I expect that this style of clothing is not common here."

"Not only that, but I can only imagine how warm you must be in such attire."

Zelda had to admit that it was warm. When she first woke, she hadn't paid the heat any mind, but their walk up the hill from the place she'd woken up in below had left her sweating. She couldn't be certain what season it was in the past, but it was summer back in her time, and it felt just as hot here as she would have expected it to be there.

She looked back at Sonia. "That would be wonderful. And, perhaps, a bath?"

"Well, of course! You may use my own tub. I am sure you'll find it to your liking."

Zelda smiled. It would feel good to bathe and rest for a time. Sonia was right—she didn't have to solve all of her problems at once. But I will find my way back home to you, Link.

Somehow.