Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. The whisper, two voices entwined, echoes through… Her head? The chamber?

Wake up, Link, says one of the voices. It’s familiar, but she can’t place it.

Anna, wake up, pleads the other, even more familiar, her heart aching at the desperation in the sound of it. Anna is her name, she knows, a certainty that clicks into her soul as soon as she hears it. She opens her eyes, gasps for breath, finds herself in a pool of rapidly draining water. The room is dark with an eerie blue glow; another pool is nearby, with a boy inside who looks as disoriented as she is. Link, he’s Link.

Her mind is foggy; she doesn’t remember… Anything. Her name is Anna, the boy is Link, they’re friends. That’s it, the extent of what she knows.

Link is covered in faded scars. Some of them look bad enough that they ought to have been fatal, she would guess, and she looks down, sees similar wounds on herself. Are they in some sort of healing facility? What happened?

Anna hops out of her pool. The floor feels like hard stone and dirt under her feet. Is this healing facility in a cave?

Link, on rising from his pool, walks over to a pedestal, across the room, picking up an object from it.

That is a Sheikah Slate, says the first voice, it will help guide you after your long slumber.

How long is long, Anna wonders, catching Link’s eye as they head to the next room, the door having opened when he took the slate. The second room has a couple of chests; opening them reveals clothes. Enough for both of them, thankfully.

The clothes don’t fit well. Link’s pants are too short and his tunic is too. Anna’s tunic is so overly long, reaching past her knees, that she doesn’t even bother with the leggings, instead just wrapping the belt around her waist. His shoes fit him; the boots for her are far too big and she leaves them behind, continuing barefoot for the time being. Link pulls his hair back in a sloppy ponytail; Anna, fingers moving without thought, pulls hers into two plaits.

Link doesn’t speak, not verbally, but he gestures with his hands and it comes back to her—Hylian Sign. They had learned it, both of them, for battle—for times when shouting to each other would put them at a disadvantage. Link also had a tendency to use it, even out of battle, if he wasn't sure who was around that might overhear them speaking out loud, for reasons that she can't quite remember. Since they've heard voices but not seen anyone else, she can understand him defaulting to it, now. The voices might seem encouraging, but that doesn't mean there aren't enemies somewhere nearby, too.

We need to keep going, Anna, he says, or, well, we need to keep going, sunlight-smile, but she knows he means Anna by it all the same.

The room isn’t large, and the path is a straight line, and they go until they reach another pedestal, like the one Link took the slate from. The first voice, again, tells them to hold the slate to the new pedestal, and when Link does—light floods into the room, and sound, as the sealed door in front of them opens.

Together, they step into the sunshine.

Together, the voices, entwined again, say Link, Anna, you are the light—our light—that must shine on Hyrule once again. Now, go.

There are forests and fields, rivers and ruins, all as far as the eye can see. Anna’s heart breaks at the sight of the ruins, even though everything is beautiful. She wants to cry, at all of it. The familiar voices, the ruins, the beauty. Her own lack of memories, the fact that nothing feels right except for Link, pulling her into a hug while they both shake. Whatever happened, whatever she doesn’t remember, it had to be bad.

But they can’t stand there forever, and they both know it. Link grabs a couple of tree branches from the ground and tosses one to her.

For defense, he signs, if we need it.

She can’t remember why they might need it, not really, but she understands. Knows instinctively that she can make it work, as a weapon, if she has to, so she straps it onto her belt. I’d rather have a sword, she thinks, suddenly, but it comes with the knowledge that Link feels the same. That they would both be more comfortable with a real weapon.

Slowly, constantly scanning for any other signs of life, friend or enemy, they follow the dirt road in front of them, taking turns grabbing apples from the trees, and mushrooms wherever they spot them; Link discovers, almost by accident, that they can store things in the slate, and it will be better to have the food for later than to not have it at all.

They haven’t gotten far when they find an old man tending to a campfire.

“Oho ho! Well met, strangers,” the man says as they approach, “It’s rather unusual to see another soul in these parts.”

“Who are you?” Anna asks. Something about him seems vaguely familiar, although no memories have sparked with his voice.

“Me? I’ll spare you my life story. I’m just an old fool who has lived here, alone, for quite some time now. What brings bright-eyed young travelers like you to a place like this?”

“Where are we?” asks Link, quietly. Hearing his voice is strangely relieving. Like part of her was convinced she might never, again. It's wrapped up in whatever caused the injuries they were healing from, she can feel enough of the general shape of her memories to know that, but it's all still frustratingly out of reach.

“Answering a question with a question,” the old man laughs, “That is fair enough. As I cannot imagine our meeting to be simple coincidence… I shall tell you. This is the Great Plateau, little ones,” Anna rolls her eyes; they’re not that short. The old man doesn’t seem to notice, “According to legend, this is the birthplace of the entire kingdom of Hyrule,” he stands and gestures to the largest of the nearby ruins, “That temple there… Long ago, it was the site of many sacred ceremonies. Ever since the decline of the kingdom 100 years ago, it has sat abandoned, in a state of decay,” he seems distracted, now, muttering under his breath, “Yet another forgotten entity. A mere ghost of its former self… I shall be here for some time. Please let me know if I may be of service.”

Hyrule. The voices said that. So it’s a kingdom? And she and Link are… Important, somehow.

Well, presumably they can’t stay on the Great Plateau. They leave the old man behind without another word; once they’re farther away, one of the voices—the second voice, the one that hurts more from the not remembering—speaks.

Open the map on the Sheikah Slate. It will show you where to go.

Link pulls the slate off his hip and taps on it until what says it’s a map appears; a small arrow that turns when they do seems to indicate their location, and a yellow dot that isn’t all that far away has to be the destination that the voice is talking about, but there’s no… map, to the map. Just a blank sea of blue.

On their way to the marker, they come across several… Monsters, is maybe the best word for it. Funny red things with snouts and over-large ears that attack them on sight. Both of them break their tree branches in the ensuing fights, but by the time they’ve reached their destination—another pedestal—they’ve collected a real sword—which Link keeps—a crude wooden club—which she takes, for now—a bow for each of them, a handful of arrows, and a single shield. It isn’t much, but it’s better, and they also manage to grab some cooked meat that some of the monsters were roasting. Experimenting with the slate proves that the food doesn’t just stay inside, it stays warm and fresh, which could be very useful.

[Sheikah Tower Activated], says a mechanical voice, when they place the slate in the new pedestal, [Please watch for falling rocks.]

The ground shakes, birds take flight, and the tiny alcove the pedestal is in breaks apart as the whole thing rises to amazing heights, the both of them on it. In the distance, across the land, other towers are visibly doing the same.

When the whole thing is done, the tower does—something, a drop of blue light forming and falling onto the slate, and when that’s done, part of the map is filled in.

Try to remember, say the entwined voices, You have been asleep for the last 100 years.

Something draws Anna’s eyes to a castle, in the distance. Fog that looks almost alive swirls around it, a maelstrom of darkness. Inside, there’s a golden light, flickering, fighting back. It's interlaced with a different light, a softer, icy white.

When the beast regains its true form, this world will face its end. Please. You must hurry, both of you.

So—that’s where they’re going to have to go. The castle. Okay.

With no other options in sight, they make their way down from the tower, leaping from platform to platform, the jumps just short enough to be safe.

When they’re at the bottom, the old man appears again. From the sky, but seemingly nowhere, gliding down on a wood-and-cloth contraption.

She bristles at the sight of him.

Tells herself she’s being ridiculous. If they’ve been asleep for 100 years—well, he’s old, but there’s no way he’s that old. She can’t have known him before they lost their memories.

“My, my… It would seem we have quite the enigma here,” the old man says, staring at the tower for a moment before his gaze turns to Link. He looks right past her, and that makes her bristle even further. She’s capable! She knows she is! “This tower and others just like it have erupted across the land, one after another,” he continues, although they know that much, saw that much, “It is almost as though… A long-dormant power has awoken quite suddenly. If you do not mind me asking… Did anything… odd occur while you were atop that tower?”

She minds. Link must mind too, because he remains utterly silent, just as much as she does.

“You need not conceal the truth from me,” the old man says, scolding, as though he has any right, “Truth be told, I saw the whole thing unfold from afar. Although I could not hear anything, I did see you react as if you heard something coming from the direction of the castle.”

She and Link both startle. How? There’s no possible vantage point he could have seen that from! The only place nearby taller than the tower is the mountain, and there's no way it's close enough he could have seen how they acted while up there if that's where he was. Physically, it just isn't possible. And where had he flown in from, anyway? Nothing seems tall enough, close enough, to account for that either.

“Hit the nail on the head, did I? And did you happen to recognize this mysterious voice?”

Yes. But also no. She knows she knows both of the voices, but she has no idea how.

She and Link both stay silent, again. It feels unnatural, keeping things bottled inside of her, but she doesn’t like the old man. Doesn’t trust him. Doesn’t dare.

“It seems I have some work to do as far as earning your trust goes. I suppose that is understandable,” he sighs. Anna would rather he didn’t work on it. That he left them alone, “I assume you caught sight of that atrocity enshrouding the castle. That… is Calamity Ganon. One hundred years ago, that vile entity brought the kingdom of Hyrule to ruin. It appeared suddenly and destroyed everything in its path. So many innocent lives were lost in its wake. For a century, the very symbol of our kingdom, Hyrule Castle, has managed to contain that evil. But just barely. There it festers, building its strength for the moment it will unleash its blight upon the land once again. It would appear that moment is fast approaching… I must ask you, courageous ones… Do you intend to make your way to the castle?”

She and Link exchange a glance. Do they say something? Do they remain silent?

After a moment, she sighs. There's nothing else for it; he simply knows too much already to pretend otherwise.

“We do,” she says. Link nods along.

“I had a feeling you would say that,” the old man laughs, “Here, on this isolated plateau, we are surrounded on all sides by steep cliffs, with no way down. If you were to try to jump off, well… no death could be more certain. Or more foolish. Of course, if you had a paraglider, like mine, that would be quite another story.”

Except, his paraglider isn’t built for two, and they’re not splitting up.

He ignores their obvious problem, with his logic, and makes an offer; his paraglider, in exchange for treasure from an orange-glowing building nearby, says it’s connected, somehow, to the towers. So—they should investigate it even if they don’t want to take the deal, right? The tower fixed part of the map, maybe the building will be important, too.

The building, when they get there, has a pedestal for the slate. Touching it opens the door to a small lift—but it will only move if Link is alone on the platform. She doesn’t like it, but agrees to wait outside while her friend goes in. Link enters the tiny shrine, as the map says it’s called, while Anna keeps collecting food and supplies to put in the slate when he comes back out. Another group of monsters yields a sword and shield of her own, and she’s gathering bunches of herbs when Link finally comes back out.

The old man appears out of nowhere, again. Seriously, he wasn’t anywhere in sight, and then he was. How does he keep doing that? But he changes the deal—three more shrines on the plateau, the treasure from all of them first—and she’d be inclined to punch him in the face and take his stupid paraglider if Link didn’t, as soon as the old man’s back is turned, shake his head and sign there was an upgrade for the slate in there. Right. So Link doesn’t trust the old man any more than she does, doesn’t want him to hear them plan anything, and thinks the other three shrines might do similar, wants to at least play along for the time being. All of which is fair. The voices, whoever they are, wanted them to have the slate. Having it upgraded, even under the guise of a willing treasure hunt for a greedy old man, makes a lot of sense.

Then he demonstrates the new magnesis functionality, and, okay, that seems really useful, and the old man isn’t trying to take the slate from them, at least not so far. They take turns, getting used to the new rune, pulling chests up from underwater and messing around with the massive metal crates that litter the area.

While she’s working with it, she spots—a stump, with a metal rock chained to it? The rock would fit perfectly in a little hollow in the stump, so she uses the magnesis rune to settle it there, and a little green creature with a leaf-mask for a face appears.

“You’re not Hestu!” the creature accuses them.

Then it realizes they can see it, and gets excited, and starts babbling about playing hide-and-seek with them and all its friends before flinging a tiny, golden something that smells awful into Link’s hand and saying to give it back to Hestu if they find him. Link shoves it into the slate alongside everything else they’ve gathered.

Then it’s time, to return to the tower, see if they can spot the other three shrines, and get moving.

***

He’s on his way to visit Lars, in Hateno, where his brother is stationed to spy on Lady Purah and her lab, when the towers rise. He debates turning Sitron around, to go back and see if this change in the state of Hyrule means new orders, but in all likelihood it won’t yet. Not unless the contact that the twins are blackmailing in Kakariko gives them some particularly noteworthy information. For now, it’s an anomaly. Being an anomaly doesn’t make it connected to their mission, or even to their enemies, not without proof. The towers look Sheikah, in make, Ancient Sheikah, from before the Clan split off, but it was, by all accounts, practically luck, 100 years ago, when the royals stumbled on the Guardians and Divine Beasts, even after their prophet had told them to look. It could easily be someone stumbling on blind luck now that set the towers off.

He keeps going.

They have their network.

If orders change, it will get to him, eventually.

Chapter Text

100 Years Ago

From her grandmother’s cucco farm, Aryll can see as the Guardians that are supposed to protect them turn on Akkala Citadel.

No! It’s Princess Zelda’s birthday—Link only had his sword, to escort her up Mount Lanayru! So many of his other things are here, at home!

She needs to find him. She needs to take him his things—needs to take him Epona, at least, he needs his horse, but his ocarina and his hookshot and his spinner and his ball and chain should be useful too, right? You can never have too many tools, Papa had said, once, a long time ago, when they still lived in Zora’s Domain and hadn’t moved in with Granny yet.

Link has so many things that could be helpful when he’s fighting that are here because all King Rhoam cared about was the sword.

Aryll has a spyglass, and a compass, and her crossbows, and her boots, and that will have to do, she decides, as she packs up her brother’s stuff into the nice enchanted bag that Granny had been planning to give him for his birthday—so that he could have all his things without the King complaining about how he should be seen as only needing the sword. It had cost Granny a lot of money but she’d said it was worth it, and Aryll thinks she’s right, and Papa would probably think so too if he wasn’t so concerned with pleasing the King—and readies Epona. It’s dangerous out there, but they have to go. They have to find Link. They have to help Link.

Granny finds her just as she’s leading Epona out of the stable.

“Be safe as you can, child,” Granny sighs, looking at her fondly, “If you can’t find Link near the Mountain, do not approach the castle, that is where things will be worst. Your brother would want you and Epona both to be cautious more than he’d want his things delivered to him, you know that.”

Aryll and Epona ride for days. It doesn’t help that… Well, having her compass doesn’t actually make her sense of direction very good. She keeps getting turned around, which is made worse by the sheer number of monsters that are out and about, attacking travelers. It’s a good thing she brought her crossbows and her boots; it’s an even better thing that half the cucco flock followed her. There’s nothing more dangerous, after all, than an angry cucco.

She arrives in Kakariko at the same time as a disheveled and tearful Princess Zelda. Link is nowhere to be seen, and the Princess has his sword. Lady Elsa is at her side, but Lady Anna, like Link, is missing. Lady Anna has always been Aryll’s favorite—she’s nice and she’s funny and she sneaks Aryll chocolate whenever she sees her. She’s a Lady, but she’s messy and she’s been training with Link to get stronger and she’s always got a smile. Princess Zelda is nice too, or at least she is now, not like when Link first started guarding her, but she’s always so focused on her powers, and how she’s going to unlock them, or on her research, that Aryll has a hard time actually getting to know her. Lady Elsa might be nice. She probably is. But she’s so elegant and regal that even when Link’s brought all his friends to Akkala before, Aryll hadn’t dared to approach her and find out.

“Where’s my brother?” she asks, so scared of the answer. Link has to be okay. He has to! He’s the strongest big brother in all Hyrule!

“Oh, Aryll, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Princess Zelda is crying. Crying-crying. No!

“No! He’s not dead! He can’t be dead!” she clings to Epona. Epona would know. Her bond with Link is so strong, she would have freaked out on their way here if he was—

“No, he’s not,” Lady Elsa agrees, reaching out, attempting to calm her. She’s crying too, “But Link and Anna were—very badly injured. They’ve been taken to the Shrine of Resurrection, and we have no idea of how long it will be before they’re healed. Or if they’ll remember us, once they are.”

The Shrine—it was the most recent thing that Miss Purah’s team had uncovered. They’d managed to recreate a second healing chamber within it, but they hadn’t tested it yet and had only incomplete notes on how it worked. On what might happen. Miss Purah’s even more prone to talk about research that goes over Aryll’s head than Princess Zelda is, but she’s also bouncy and excited and when she realizes that Aryll hasn’t been understanding a word she’s said, she tends to simplify it and teach it so that Aryll can better understand her, while Zelda just trails off and apologizes. Miss Purah had been insistent that they needed to learn everything they could about the Shrine before they tried to use it, which is why she’d built the second pod from the ground up. But she hadn’t been ready to put a test subject in, yet.

And now—Link and Lady Anna are the test subjects. The ones that no one was ready for.

But… They’ll come back. They have to.

She reaches into the pack of Link’s things, fingers clasping around the Ocarina. It was passed down from one of their very-distant ancestors, the Hero of Time. It has—it has magic. Link made her promise never-ever-ever to play with it, so she wouldn’t accidentally do anything she couldn’t reverse. It had caused their ancestor enough problems, as it was, and he knew what he was doing. She doesn’t.

She pulls it out, and shows it to the Princess.

“Teach me,” she begs, “So I can—so I can go to when Link is awake and help him!”

Princess Zelda shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, Aryll, I don’t know. When the royal family gave the Ocarina to the Hero of Time, there wasn’t any more reason for them to pass down the songs. I can’t teach you.”

“But,” Lady Elsa says, “We have to return the Master Sword to its resting place, so it can regain its strength. If anyone does know, it will be the Deku Tree. Come with us. Ask him.”

Her hands are shaking but she needs to be brave. She needs to help her big brother.

He’s going to save all of Hyrule. Lady Anna is going to help.

But Aryll’s not going to let them do it alone.

Now

Out of an abundance of caution, they spend their first night since waking at the top of the tower after marking the general locations of the other three shrines on the slate’s map.

The second shrine is easy enough to get to, behind ruined walls in what the map declares to be the Eastern Abbey. Between the walls are what look like decaying statues that make his stomach clench in fear, for some reason he doesn’t know. Anna feels similarly about them, if the cold sweat she breaks into is any indication. The best way he sees to give them a wide berth is to climb the walls and run along those, so that’s what they do, leaping across gaps as necessary in order not to get near those things.

He doesn’t understand why the shrines won’t allow Anna in with him—or without him, for that matter. No matter which of them holds the slate, the lifts only work if he and the slate, and only he and the slate, are standing on them.

It’s frustrating. He hates leaving her behind when he goes in, even if she’s keeping herself occupied by gathering supplies and at finding more of those little creatures that call themselves koroks. She’s just as frustrated by the shrines, he knows she is, and what can either of them do about it? Absolutely nothing.

(He trusts her, entirely, more than anything else since they woke up, but something inside him keeps thinking if he looks away, she’ll be—gone. He doesn’t remember even so much as how they know each other, but when he closes his eyes, he sees phantom visions of her, eerily still, in a pool of blood on a dark plain in a storm, an overwhelming feeling of failure.)

(So he’s scared.)

The second shrine, like the first, upgrades the slate, allowing them to summon bombs and activate them remotely. That may be a bit more situational than the magnesis rune, he thinks, but it can’t hurt.

The third shrine—across a gorge and up a cliff—they get to at nightfall, after having to borrow an axe from the old man to make a log into a bridge to cross the gorge. They camp out inside the opening with the lift, since it’s shelter if nothing else, and in the morning all Anna has to do is step off the lift so he can go inside. This one provides them with a rune called stasis, that stops time on an object temporarily for varied effects, and then they’re left with only one shrine to go.

Unfortunately, that last shrine is up the mountain, in an area so cold they’ll need protection from the elements. One of the outbuildings of the ruined Temple in the center of the plateau had a chest with boots in it that actually fit Anna, unlike the ones in the shrine where they woke, so that’s a start, but they need more.

They use the slate’s ability to teleport to go back down to the first shrine, where they got the magnesis rune, to gather supplies before they go up any further into the cold.

The old man appears out of nowhere, again, to offer another deal; figure out his favorite recipe and he’ll give them an old warm doublet. But like one paraglider, one doublet won’t help, and Link thinks he has a better idea. The man, after all, said his recipe would keep him warm without the use of extra clothes, just from cooking the peppers.

And Link knows—knows he knows—how to cook. Instead of bothering trying to make spicy meat and something fry, he takes what peppers they can gather without going into the cold parts of the mountain, and he makes them skewers of peppers and the plain mushrooms they’ve been finding all over the place. And…

It’s not just food he knows how to make, he realizes, staring as a red butterfly flitters past.

“This might be a bit disgusting,” he warns Anna, nabbing the unsuspecting bug and throwing it into the old man’s cooking pot they’ve been using for their preparations, alongside a piece of monster horn he’d grabbed on instinct. He’d thought, eventually, when they get off the plateau, selling the monster parts might earn them money for their travels, wherever they end up needing to go, but this is… Something different, something he hadn’t been thinking of. The result is, as he’d known it wouldn’t be, not food, but a red liquid that radiates heat—an elixir. How does he know how to do that?

The plateau’s final shrine, gotten to fairly easily from the third once they have their warming meals and elixirs, offers yet another rune for the slate, cryonis, the ability to freeze solid blocks of ice from any water. He can see that being useful for crossing rivers.

And once again, when he leaves the shrine, the old man has appeared from nowhere outside. Is, as he does about half the time, ignoring Anna to solely address Link—add it to the list of reasons that Link doesn’t trust him. Specifically calls out Link having all the spirit orbs, the one thing he pulled from the shrines that he has no idea how he could possibly pass on to the old man.

Says he’s going to tell them everything.

And changes the deal, again, to meet him where the shrines intersect, which, if their map is right, should be the Temple, the ruined husk of a once-great building that the old man had gone out of his way to point out to them on their first encounter.

For the paraglider that they aren’t even sure will be helpful.

Then, despite not having a slate of his own that they’ve seen, he teleports away, somehow.

One paraglider will be a start, they decide, as they make their way back down the mountain. Maybe they can study it and use the cloth from some of the extra clothes they’ve found to make a second one, even if Link still has no idea how he’s possibly going to trade the old man the spirit orbs. They’re inside him, he thinks. It had certainly looked as though they were flying into his chest when the monks in the shrines had bestowed them, and he feels… Warmer, inside, than he did before he had them.

At the top of the tower, the old man reveals two paragliders—and that he’s actually the ghost of Hyrule’s last king, Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule.

“Uncle?” Anna says, a quiet and incredulous whisper, when he reveals himself. It’s probably the closest thing to a real memory either of them has. They’ve compared what they can whenever they’ve been sure the old man was nowhere around; it hasn’t amounted to much at all. They know each other’s names. She remembers why they know Sign. He remembers how to cook, although they don’t have access to the variety of ingredients he’d like to have, so far.

“Yes,” Rhoam nods, fully acknowledging her, for once, “Your father, Lord Agnarr, was my wife, my dear Queen Zelda’s, younger brother. Your mother, Lady Idunna, was of the Sheikah. You and your sister, Elsa, were always quite close to my daughter, your cousin, Princess Zelda. It worried most of us to no end when you dedicated yourself to training alongside the knights, dear girl, but it does me glad to see you well.”

Sounds pretty enough, but something in Link’s gut is telling him that they both hated the King, before.

The king keeps prattling on. Tells them that 100 years ago, the beast that surrounds the castle, on the brink of being sealed away, turned something called Guardians and Divine Beasts against the people of Hyrule. That they, he and Anna, had fallen in battle, back then, and the Shrine they’d woken in had brought them back. Asks them to save Zelda and Elsa, and Link knows, knows, even before Rhoam says as much, that they’re the voices he and Anna have been hearing since they woke up.

Tells them they should visit Impa, in Kakariko Village, to the east.

And disappears, claiming it’s forever, this time, that as his task of guiding them is done, he can rest.

“He treated all of us badly,” Anna says, a certainty in her voice, “I know he did. I don’t remember—everything is still so blank! But… He was cruel to Zelda and Elsa because of their powers, somehow. He hated that I wanted to train instead of just being a proper lady, I think? And you… He wanted you to be a symbol more than a person? That’s what my gut is saying, anyway. I know it doesn’t make sense, but…”

“I knew we didn’t like him,” he agrees, arms crossed. Has there even been a point to making sure he wasn’t around before speaking things they didn’t want him to hear? The fact that the old man was a ghost explains a lot of their interactions with him, actually, but if he can disappear at will and it’s not teleportation like the slate allows them, then there’s no telling if he actually wasn’t around. He could still be here, now, hiding out of sight like a coward, for all they know. His guidance certainly wasn’t thorough enough that he could possibly consider his unfinished business finished, in any sense, was it?

“Before we go to Kakariko,” Anna bites her lip, hesitates, “You feel it, right? Something—calling us? Downstairs? Inside the Temple?”

He feels it. He feels something else, too, to the southeast, something that, for a moment, he thinks he sees, white and lightning arcing across the sky, a ribbon in the air.

He nods.

Each of them grabs one of the paragliders, and they leave the roof.

Inside the Temple, the only thing of note is a statue, in the middle of the room, surrounded by six smaller statues. When Link approaches it—he hears a voice. It’s… Similar, he thinks, to one of the voices they’ve been hearing since they woke up, either Zelda or Elsa, but not quite the same. It offers—to exchange the four spirit orbs to restore some of his lost power. The thought of accepting doesn’t even really cross his mind, when he feels… The loss of the orbs, that warmth inside of him, and the gain of something else, something a bit less tangible.

I cannot restore your battle-sister’s power, as I can with you, says the statue’s voice, a sigh, apologetic, once the transaction is complete, but on your journey, seek out the Springs of the Golden Three; they will have boons to grant, in exchange for the proper offerings. Your patroness, Farore, is closest, in the heart of Damel Forest, southeast of here. Make your way to her, Hero.

Then the voice is gone. Anna tells him that she didn’t hear quite the same words as he did, not like how they’ve been hearing Zelda and Elsa, but she received similar instructions.

So they ready to leave the Plateau. It’s late, so they spend one more night, in the safety of the Temple, this time. Before they fall asleep, they discuss the story they’re going to tell people; Impa, whoever she might be, might need to know the truth, probably, but telling everyone they encounter that they were alive 100 years ago and just woke up from a healing sleep and have no memories is a good way to alienate people who might otherwise be helpful on their journey. No one will possibly believe them.

So they come up with—brother and sister. Raised in isolation by their uncle. Exploring, to broaden their horizons. Given how little they know about the state of Hyrule—now or 100 years ago, to be fair—it’s probably the best they can do, and given that Rhoam had at least tried to act as a guide to them and was Anna’s uncle, it’s sort of based in truth, to the extent they can base their story in truth.

There’s one other decision they have to make before they leave the plateau; do they listen to Rhoam and go to Impa, first, or listen to the voice from the statue and seek out the Spring in Damel Forest, associated with Farore?

In the end, it’s the words that the statue said about proper offerings that decide it; they simply don’t know what the proper offerings are. But, if Impa is as wise as Rhoam suggested, she might. So, in the morning—once they leap into the unknown and off the edge of the plateau—they’ll go east, first. To Kakariko Village.

Chapter Text

Their first day, off the Plateau, isn’t particularly eventful. They encounter a new kind of monster—it looks related to the ones they’ve been fighting, vaguely, but it’s much taller—and find a single shrine, near a bridge, which is patrolled by the first other person they’ve seen since Rhoam disappeared at the Temple.

Brigo, the patrolman, points out one of the decayed things like they first saw at the Eastern Abbey, and explains to them that it’s one of the Guardians that Rhoam mentioned. Anna shivers, staring at it, and then she wishes she hadn’t asked Brigo anything at all about what he’s patrolling for, because he tells a story about one of those things, still alive and moving, that almost killed him, closer to the castle, their eventual destination.

“There’s three kinds of them,” Brigo tells them, when they join him at his campfire because it got dark while Link was in the shrine and they’ve been traveling all day, “Or so some of the treasure hunters that get closer to the castle tell me, anyway. The ones on legs, the ones that fly, and the ones—like that one I’ve been watching—that look dead but will wake up faster than you can blink.”

He warns them, too, about stals—bastards will keep getting up until you take care of the skulls. All of the skulls. They fight in packs and they only need one for the bodies to keep going—and they’ve already been avoiding traveling at night but now they have all the more reason to.

Brigo’s nice, although he’s also convinced that the towers rising and the shrines beginning to glow is a sign of end times.

He might not be wrong, if they fail at their task and the beast regains its strength, like Zelda and Elsa warned them.

But still—nice. He tells them the way to Dueling Peaks Stable and that the staff there will have better directions to Kakariko than he does, and he’s a good storyteller and he doesn’t even question their admittance that they’re sheltered, to say the least. Anna’s torn between feeling bad about lying to him, and being grateful that their lie holds up.

The second day passes similarly to the first. Heading east, fighting monsters—entire encampments of them. Across the river just before they get to the Dueling Peaks themselves is another tower, and they use the slate’s cryonis rune to cross to it and make their way to the top, where another drop of blue light fills in a large chunk of their map, and the same mechanical voice that warned them of falling rocks when they activated the tower on the Plateau tells them that the slate’s sensor has been fixed and set to go off if there are shrines nearby. They stay on the tower side of the river as they travel through the mountain pass—and she sees something, wicked-looking, swimming, but fortunately whatever those are they stay in the river. Another shrine is about halfway through the pass, and while Link completes it, she takes the sledgehammer he’d pulled out of the shrine where he’d gotten the stasis rune and starts smashing the ore deposits that line the cliff.

It’s getting dark by the time they come out of the mountain pass, the stable and another shrine in sight. A chunk of rock from one of the ore deposits had nicked her in the face, and a fight with some more monsters—bokoblins, according to their new friend Brigo, and the tall ones are moblins—left a long gash in her arm, and she’s tired, so while Link heads for the shrine, with the slate, she heads straight for the stable with their coin purse; they haven’t gathered much, in the way of funds, but Brigo had at least explained the rupees they’d found—two purple and six green—and hopefully it’s enough for a night.

Unfortunately, she’s not paying the most attention to her surroundings.

So she isn’t expecting it when she crashes into someone.

***

“Sorry!”

The girl who runs into him is—well, she’s in a state, there’s no other way to put it. She must have gotten into a scrape with some bokoblins, or maybe some lizalfos, judging by her appearance.

“It’s all right,” he assures her, with a smile. Underneath the dirt and blood, she smiles back, and… Oh, he quite likes that, making her smile. He shoves the thought away, stares at the worst of her obvious injuries instead, “Let me help with your arm, I have supplies.”

Most of his fellows in the Yiga wouldn’t make such an offer, of course. Most of his brothers, in particular, would have sooner acted horribly towards her just for such a minor accident. But, most of them aren’t undercover most of the time, instead only adopting civilian disguises when they feel a pressing need. His assignment is traveling, infiltrating stables like this one, gathering information. Seeming harmless—seeming average—is his best weapon.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” she protests, blushing.

“But I would like to,” he insists, and that seems to settle it. She sits at the tiny table inside, and he grabs a bucket of water and some spare cloths from Tasseren, “I’m Hans,” he introduces himself, as he starts to wash out the wound.

“Anna,” she says. She’s not smiling quite so brightly as before, but—she’s dangerous. Distracting. Part of him wants to reach out and help with the cut on her cheek, too, but that’s too much, isn’t it? Too intimate, for how little they know each other?

“Are you traveling alone?” he asks. He didn’t see anyone who might be with her, only the usual crew of Dueling Peaks, and, of course, Beedle, the traveling merchant who frequents all the stables. If she is alone, she’s in remarkably good shape for whatever fight she was in.

“No, my brother is still,” she gestures vaguely westward with her uninjured arm, “exploring a bit. I was tired, though, so I came here ahead.” She’s still probably been holding her own, he thinks. Unlike most travelers he meets, she’s well-equipped, with a broadsword, a shield that she or her brother would have had to take off a bokoblin after a fight, judging from the crude construction of it, and a bow with a quiver full of arrows.

The wound looks worse than it is, he decides, once he has it cleaned up. It’s a good thing, too, since he’s certainly not qualified to actually stitch her up. From his bag, he pulls out some Hyrule Herb and Cool Saffina; he can mix them to make a decently effective poultice for her.

“You’ll want to change the bandage daily,” he instructs, “I’ll mix some extra of this for you to take with you.”

“Can you show me how to make my own?” she asks, blue eyes sparkling with interest. It’s a good skill for anyone to have, especially if they’re frequently on the road, he supposes, and while the Calamity is still—trapped, in the Castle, with the Princess and the Ice Witch, with no change in sight except for the mysterious towers and the fact the old shrines are glowing, it can’t hurt the cause, to teach her. So he nods, moves his supplies closer, talks her through it.

They’re sitting together, still, laughing through her first attempt at making some for herself, when the blond boy comes in. There’s a Sheikah device on his hip—unusual, for a Hylian—and Hans keeps watching out of the corner of his eye as the boy sells some things to Beedle—including a beetle, from the merchant’s excited shout—and buys arrows before going back outside to the cooking pot and starting to put something together.

When he comes back into the stable, he has three plates, and he comes straight to the table, handing one to Anna and setting one in front of Hans without a word. Hans looks at the food that’s suddenly in front of him; an omelet, made with what looks like… Stamella Shroom and…

“Is that acorn?” he asks, intrigued. He’s never quite understood the Clan’s fixation on bananas, and with his assignment being what it is he has seen quite a few different types of cuisine, but he’s never seen acorn in an omelet before. Set to the side of the plate, like a desert, is a baked apple.

“We forage a lot,” Anna says, digging into her plate, “We grew up—sheltered. So, we’re exploring. Acorn’s not so bad, Hans.”

“I’m Link,” the boy says.

“After the Hylian Champion from 100 years ago?” Hans asks. He’s heard of people doing that but he’s never actually met someone with the name, and something about that combined with the Sheikah device at the boy’s hip seems… Off. Like there’s something he’s supposed to know, here.

“After the Hero of Twilight, actually,” the boy corrects, absently, taking a bite out of his meal and then… Stopping, like he’s surprised somehow at what just came out of his own mouth. Hans doesn’t think he knows that legend—Lars probably would. His brother does have a special interest in history that he likes to indulge out there in Hateno, where no one bothers him so long as he reports in about the lab atop the hill every so often.

Sheltered new travelers Anna and Link, with a Sheikah device. Should be easy enough to remember. Easy enough to describe so that others will keep an eye out, because he can’t just drop his assignment on the off chance that there’s something important about them. He’ll report to a superior when he gets closer to the hideout. They’re open enough, nice enough, trusting enough, he could probably get more information out of them, himself, but there’s a fine line between the innocent curiosity of a new acquaintance, and interrogation. He would rather err on the side of the former.

He tries a bite of the omelet; it’s very good. Link must have a talent for cooking.

Talking with them is easy. Playing his role—the traveler he always has to seem at the stables—doesn’t feel like a lie, somehow, when Anna is smiling at him.

Maybe, more accurately, she makes him wish it wasn’t a lie. That man, the one he isn’t really, has no destination and no reason not to offer to join them on their trip. No reason not to try and get closer to her, like he wants to, wishes he could.

Link is quieter than Anna, harder to read than the absolute open book that his sister is, but still kind.

He can’t remember the last time anyone was as kind to him as these two are, on first meeting. Beedle, maybe? Most travelers and even stable staff he’s had to earn every bit of trust he’s stolen from them. Yet here they are—Anna making him feel at ease in a way he never has, Link including him in their meal despite the fact that he’s a stranger and they easily could have conserved their ingredients for their own journey.

He winces at the turn of his thoughts. If Master Kohga—or worse, his father and most of his brothers—knew he felt charitably towards people who are at best future victims of the Calamity, for something so insignificant as kindness, he’d be locked in the hideout doing supply inventory for the rest of his days.

When Link and Anna finally say goodnight to him, going to Tasseren to get their beds paid for, Hans steps outside for a breath. The air will do him good—he needs distance. He needs objectivity. He needs to stop thinking about how much he’d like to see Anna’s smile as bright as that first time, again. The moon’s a seven day moon, and he stares at it for a bit but it doesn’t distract him, doesn’t help, not even as he listens to Hino drone on about it. He drops his gaze back down from the sky and—

Wait.

Weren’t the lights on that shrine orange when he arrived?

***

In the morning, before they go their separate ways, Hans introduces Anna to his horse, Sitron.

“He’s almost as handsome as you,” she says, absently, and then immediately feels a blush rise to her cheeks, “Um, I mean—Sorry! Oh, that was so awkward of me, I’m—Ohhhh, goddesses, this is embarrassing.” She buries her face in her hands, certain that she’s absolutely the most horrifying shade of beet-red. She can almost hear Link laughing at her. He definitely will as soon as they’re alone again.

“Hey,” Hans says, nudging her hands, getting her to look up through her fingers at him. He’s smiling, softly, “It’s alright. I promise, you’re the prettiest girl who’s ever complimented him.”

Oh. He’s so—so—

Dreamy.

Did she ever feel this way, before she lost her memories? All twisted up in knots like this? Somehow, she doesn’t think she did. It feels new, not even a little bit familiar like most of the vague things that she can’t connect with. It feels—like—like sparks popping under her skin, butterflies in her stomach.

She feels almost breathless, and she’s about to say something, although she’s not quite sure what, when a loud voice breaks the moment, popping the bubble that feels like it’s formed around them.

“As the runner-up in the Hyrule Horse-Taming Competition, I challenge you to beat my time!” the voice says, and she looks over and sees the man Link had gone to ask for directions to Kakariko, chest puffed-up and looking down at Link like he’s got something to prove. Next to her, Hans lets out a sound of annoyance.

“Rensa,” Hans calls over, “Only you and Tasseren competed. That hardly qualifies you as an expert. Leave Link alone.”

“The boy and his sister need a horse!” Rensa calls back to Hans, “Just because you were too scared to take me on doesn’t mean he shouldn’t!”

“I already have a horse, Rensa, it has nothing to do with—” he makes that same annoyed sound again, and she looks over at him, wondering, only to find him staring at her, still something soft in his eyes even though he’s not quite smiling anymore, “Fine! I’ll take your challenge. Tasseren, you’ll register whatever horse I come back with for Link and Anna, won’t you?”

“I will!” calls the stable master, “And if you shut Rensa up by beating his time, I’ll throw in their saddle and bridle for free!”

“I can’t promise you a horse as handsome as Sitron,” he says, quieter, so only she can hear, “but I’ll be back soon.”

Impulsively, she bounces up on her toes quickly and kisses his cheek.

“Good luck,” she says, smiling, happy to see that his smile is back.

And then he’s off. A small crowd gathers, watching as he stalks his way towards the nearby wild horses. Link comes up next to her, grinning in a way that she knows he’s going to be teasing her about that kiss as soon as she’s not expecting it. Some memory she doesn’t have yet is bubbling under the surface, like… Like she used to tease him about someone? A princess, but not Zelda. Did she have another cousin? One Rhoam didn’t mention? Or is her mind playing tricks on her?

“Shut up, Link,” she mutters, as Hans vaults onto the back of one of the horses. Not quite pure white, it has black markings on its legs and its mane is both black and white. Half the crowd is cheering, and she does too, as Hans rides the horse back to them.

Rensa is dejected that Hans beat his challenge. Tasseren is jubilant about the same.

“This fella will need a name,” Tasseren says, as Hans hands her the bridle that’s been newly fitted onto the stallion. Anna looks at him—at Hans, really, but she tries to pass it off as looking at the horse—and bites her lip and it comes to her, firmly.

“Kjekk,” she says, “His name is Kjekk.”

Chapter Text

The first hour of their journey northward from the stable, Anna astride their new mount, is spent, unexpectedly, trotting sedately alongside Hans; he’s going to Hateno to visit one of his elder brothers, he says, and the road, from the stable to Kakariko or from the stable to Hateno, doesn’t diverge until further up the path.

The plain, that the road runs alongside, is full of ruined Guardians, and Link, seeing it, feels—bleak. Hopeless. The day is bright, and beautiful, but he feels like there’s a shadow passing over, somehow, a darkness.

“The Ash Swamp and Blatchery Plain,” Hans says, seeing the direction Link stares in, “They say it’s where the tide of battle against the Calamity turned, 100 years ago. That the Hylian champion fell, there, attempting to protect the Princess, just outside Fort Hateno, and that is when her powers awoke. That something happened similar, in the same place, at the same time, with the Ladies of Arendelle, relatives of the Princess from a lost settlement in Hebra.”

Oh.

No wonder, then, that he feels this way, if that’s where he and Anna—died? Nearly died? He still isn’t quite sure which. He looks at her, wonders if she feels it too, and she looks pale. Hans, attentive to her to the point where Link hasn’t even had the heart to remind her that maybe now isn’t the time to be distracted by whatever she’s feeling for the man, considering the world is quite literally in the balance, notices too, and reaches over to her, briefly squeezes her hand. The gesture works wonders on Anna’s demeanor.

He likes that guy, actually, he decides. He’d cooked for him just to return the favor of the fact that he was patching Anna up. It had been a moment of gratefulness and not much else.

But Anna lights up when he’s paying attention to her. Turns into a miniature sun, basically. So—in a world where they really were just a sheltered brother and sister, and didn’t have to figure out how to save Hyrule, he’d approve. Of whatever Anna decided she wanted.

In this world, they need to be practical, and unfortunately that means he needs to encourage Anna to say goodbye, at least temporarily.

It’s fine, he decides, as they cross the bridge and head up the sloping hill, toward Kakariko, get to a point where they can no longer see Hans and his horse when they turn back. If everything goes right, Anna will have plenty of time to chase him down and figure things out, after they’ve stopped the Calamity. After they’ve rescued Zelda and Elsa.

They aren’t too much farther up the path when they see—a gigantic korok, standing under a tree. Anna nudges Kjekk in the korok’s direction, and says hello, and this, it turns out, is the Hestu that they’d been instructed to return the seeds they’ve been given back to.

Hestu mentions it’s been 100 years since anyone could see him—the same amount of time they were in the shrine. Was it them, Link wonders? Did Hestu know them, before? But he hardly gets a chance to ask, not that he even knows how to begin to ask, as the Korok tells them of monsters stealing his maracas.

Anna dismounts Kjekk, and they leave the horse by Hestu while they go to investigate the area where he thinks the monsters are.

Three bokoblins—the blue ones, stronger than the red ones that had been everywhere on the Plateau. They’ve seen a blue one here and there since leaving the Plateau, but never more than one at once. It’s a tough fight, the things hit hard, and if Link was alone he might be worried. Instead, shields raised, back-to-back, he and Anna fight off the creatures. It takes time—and even more time, to get the maracas back to Hestu and for Hestu to feel like he’s… If not repaid them enough, for his own taste, then repaid them as much as he can right now, somehow using magic and dancing to upgrade their slate so it can store more extra weapons in exchange for just a few of the seeds they’ve collected.

So it’s evening by the time they get to Kakariko.

They’re discussing finding the local inn, and trying to see Impa in the morning, when a woman, who introduces herself as Nanna, notices the slate and insists that they go see Lady Impa right away. A farmer, in a pumpkin field, Olkin, accuses them of being in something called the Yiga Clan, as though it’s a joke, even though he also says the Yiga are dedicated servants of the Calamity.

He also says he can tell by looking at them that they aren’t, actually, but Link wonders… Is it possible to tell something like that by looking at someone?

Despite Nanna’s insistence, the guards at Impa’s home don’t seem ready to let them in, not right away—not until they, too, notice the slate. At the top of the stairs, just outside Impa’s door, a young woman is cleaning. She’s more nervous than he’s seen anyone else, since they woke up, she introduces herself as Paya, and says her grandmother has been waiting for them for as long as she can remember.

As soon as the door opens, Impa greets them. Smiles as she says she’s much older, now, but—

“Link, Anna, you remember me, don’t you?”

She sounds so confident, in them. In the memories that they don’t have.

And then she notices. Even before they can say anything, she notices. Realizes that they don’t remember her, not at all.

And, even tiny as she is, seems to cave in on herself, almost starts begging them to at least remember her name.

Link wishes he did. Wishes he knew why she was so desperate. Wishes he could help, in some way.

“We— Uncle’s ghost told us to find you,” Anna tells her, softly, “that you could help us.”

The mention of Rhoam catches Impa’s attention, if the way she stares when Anna says it is any indication. Then she scoffs, and—

“That old fool only wished me to burden you, I am sure. Princess Zelda gave me a message, for when the pair of you woke, but without your memories—no. I will not pass it on unless you are certain. It is not a message that can be heard without being willing. To risk your life. As you once were. As she was. When you are ready, and certain of it, return to me. Then, I shall tell you.”

“We’re not leaving,” Link says.

“Yeah!” Anna agrees, “We already know we’re going to help Zelda and Elsa, whether you help us or not. So—pretending that there’s some other choice in all this isn’t worth it.”

Impa pauses.

And then she smiles.

“Not a memory to your names, yet you are as intent as ever to charge forward with only courage and justice on your side, with no one to rely on save for each other. Even after everything, neither of you have changed a bit. Still the heroes you ever were, the bravest souls I’ve ever known. Very well. To understand what happened 100 years ago, you must first know what happened 10,000 years ago.”

And then she weaves the story. Of Calamity Ganon, an evil ancient even then. Of a Hyrule, long gone, that was technologically advanced. Of the Guardians and Divine Beasts, created to aid, as she puts it, a warrior wielding the soul of a hero, and a princess carrying the blood of the Goddess Hylia. Of how the plan worked, that time.

But not 100 years ago, when they attempted to replicate the same success.

“Princess Zelda’s message was that you must free the four Divine Beasts,” Impa says, in the end. Vah Rudania, Vah Medoh, Vah Ruta, Vah Naboris. Piloted, 100 years ago, by the Champions—Daruk, Revali, Mipha, Urbosa. She tells them the names but the closest thing to meaning, in his head or in his heart, is a twinge of deep sorrow. They must have known the Champions, right? These were people that they fought alongside, at the least—were they friends? Only allies? Somewhere in between? Something else entirely? “You must infiltrate them and wrest control of them back from Calamity Ganon,” she takes the slate, briefly, marks approximately where to go to find them, and then she frowns at it, “It’s been damaged,” she says, “You’ll have to go to Hateno Village, my sister Purah at the research lab there ought to be able to fix it. Hateno’s small, but was nearly untouched by the Calamity due to the Fort having remained unbroken by the assault. Come now, we’ll speak of more over dinner.”

She stands from the cushions she had been waiting on, makes her way to the door and opens it, “Paya, sweet, come inside. We have company, you know.”

Paya doesn’t seem any less nervous than she had been outside, throughout dinner, barely saying more than a word. Not that she’d be able to; Impa dominates the conversation. Tells them that they won’t be staying at the inn on her watch, not when she’s had rooms set aside for them for 100 years. Gently advises that they go to one of the local stores and get clothing that actually fits them. When he mentions needing to seek out the shrines, she tells him of one on the hill. Anna is the one to ask, cautiously, if she knows anything about the Springs of the Golden Three and what the proper offerings might be.

“Offerings? No,” Impa says, “The tradition has always been prayer. I do know where they are. The Spring of Courage is in the Damel Forest, in the jaws of the Dracozu River, the Spring of Power is in Akkala, near the old quarry, and the Spring of Wisdom is atop Mount Lanayru. Princess Zelda made pilgrimages to all three, long ago. Courage and Power repeatedly, over the years, but as the Spring of Wisdom is forbidden to anyone not yet seventeen, she only made it to that one once, before the Calamity. Why do you ask?”

“In the Temple, on the Plateau,” Anna says, “The Goddess Statue—spoke to us. Link regaining his lost power is tied to the Shrines. Mine… She said to seek out the Springs, the one in Damel Forest first. That for the proper offerings, the Golden Three would grant us boons.”

“There must be some record somewhere,” Impa muses, “I’ll set Hiro to researching it. The boy wants to study with Purah or Robbie, but Purah’s refusing apprentices at the moment, and he’s far too young to go to Akkala alone; his brother’s been begging me to find him something to occupy him. In the meantime, if you’re seeking the Golden Three, you ought seek the four Great Fairies, as well. One is supposed to be near here, though no one has seen Cotera in a number of decades.”

There’s a moment, a brief lull, and then—

“I do have further messages, to pass on,” Impa sighs, “Lady Anna, your sister… You know, I’m sure, that she is with Princess Zelda, holding back the beast. She wanted me to tell you… That there was a gift, she never got to give you, waiting in Arendelle. Unfortunately, not much of Arendelle was left standing—the people got out, a friend of yours led them to safety, but the town itself was not so lucky. I’ve no idea if, whatever the gift was, it will be possible to find.

“Link—your sister—when last I saw Aryll, she was with Princess Zelda and Lady Elsa. I do not believe they would have taken her to the castle with them, but I know they took her to meet with the Great Deku Tree. She had a rather reckless idea in her head, of trying to find a way across time, to bring you some of your equipment whenever it would be that you woke. I cannot say how successful she was, only that she was determined.”

His—

He had a—

Aryll.

Something about her name hits him.

Aryll.

And he remembers—

“Big brother! Did you forget what day it is?” his sister—golden blonde hair in two pigtails, a blue and floral print dress, cuccos at her feet, trailing behind her, a gull having landed on her head at some point and just decided to stay for a bit, spyglass in hand—wakes him, hands on her hips. He’d fallen asleep in Epona’s stall, again.

It’s the only place he feels comfortable, so far, on Granny’s farm. He misses home, misses the Domain, misses his friends. Mipha and Kodah and Bazz and Gaddison and Rivan and Kayden.

Misses Mama, most of all.

“Big brother,” Aryll sighs, “it’s your birthday! Granny and Papa are both waiting for you at the house, come on!”

He’s turning twelve. It’s his first birthday in years that won’t be spent swimming with the Brigade. Won’t be spent with any of his friends even so much as able to say hello. Mipha had sent him a letter, but it’s not the same as seeing her.

Still. He doesn’t want to disappoint Aryll by letting her see how much he wishes it wasn’t his birthday, so he puts on a smile, lets her lead him back to the farmhouse that’s a little bit too small for all four of them. He can mope some other day.

His sister. Three years younger than him. Always, always cheerful. Birds followed her wherever she went.

Aryll.

“Who— Or what— is the Great Deku Tree?” he asks, fingers curling around the table just to hold something solid. Was the Mipha he thought of in that memory the same one who piloted the Divine Beast? It can’t be a coincidence, can it?

“He is the guardian of the Lost Woods. Of the Koroks. Of the Sword That Seals The Darkness.”

“Well, we’re just going to have to talk to him, too, and see what he knows about Aryll!” Anna declares.

Link, grateful, smiles at her.

“If you look for the Great Fairy while I complete the shrine,” he says, planning, “we can get the new clothes in the morning before we leave and then head to Hateno. Bet we’ll see your friend when we’re there.”

Anna blushes, instantly going red. Impa raises an eyebrow.

“Oh,” Anna sounds a little disappointed, actually, when she speaks? “It will be nice to see Hans again, but—doesn’t that mean we’re going to have to lie to him? About why we’re in Hateno a day or so after we told him we were heading to Kakariko?”

“I don’t think we have to lie. Just say we found the slate on our travels and someone here suggested we let the folks at the lab look at it.”

“Who is this Hans?” Impa asks, sharply.

“Traveler we met at the stable last night,” Link says, “He helped Anna with her wounds, they really hit it off. He caught Kjekk, for her.”

“Hmmmmm. I suppose he sounds harmless enough, but do be wary. Ever since the towers rose, my people have been reporting greater amounts of Yiga activity.”

“Olkin mentioned the Yiga Clan, on our way in,” Anna says, “He said they were—dedicated servants of the Calamity? Why would anyone want to serve the thing that’s supposed to end the world?”

“Once, they were of the Sheikah. But after the events of 10,000 years ago, the king, at the time, declared the Sheikah must abandon their technology, bury it all. Live simply, as we do here in Kakariko. Most followed the edict. Those who did not, who rebelled, became the Yiga Clan. They believe that when the Calamity ends the world, it will be reshaped in his image—that they will be spared and allowed to live on in the new. Utterly nonsense, of course, the beast has no care for them, but they have convinced themselves, over the vast generations.”

“What should we watch out for?” Anna asks, “If there’s been reports then there must be a way to identify them, right?”

“Lone travelers in the middle of nowhere, mostly. Anyone you see who is acting off. Cowering at nothing, standing around at crossroads, talking incessantly about bananas. I can’t tell you not to trust anyone, you’ll need help on your journey, I know that. But be careful of strangers, dears.”

Chapter Text

After dinner, Anna joins Link as he hikes up the hill to the Shrine overlooking Kakariko; once he’s inside, she keeps hiking onwards. A Great Fairy, somewhere nearby. Not seen in decades.

No idea what she’s looking for, really.

It’s maybe not the best idea. But it has to be done, and it will take up less of their time if she does this now, while he’s in there doing… whatever it is the Shrine has him do, this time. He’s said, mostly, that they’re puzzles using the slate’s abilities.

She follows the path, at first. If Cotera was known to be near here then she can’t be too far off, can she?

But then she spots something, glowing, in the woods. It catches her attention, and she makes her way towards it, slowly, and—

What a funny little creature. Body like a rabbit. Face like a bird. Fronds instead of ears. Small and blue, shining with its own light.

“Elsa! Zelda! Come look, come look, come look!”

“We’re supposed to be going to bed, Anna,” her sister sighs.

“Elsa! You have to see! There’s a— come look!!! There’s a blupee!”

“A blupee?” Zelda asks, wide-eyed.

“Yeah!” Anna grabs her littler cousin’s hand, first, and then Elsa’s, “Come on, come look!” she drags both of them outside, and up the winding hill. They’re in Kakariko because they’re supposed to meet Impa, who’s going to be Zelda’s guard. She knows she wasn’t supposed to be exploring, but she couldn’t help it!

“How far away from the village did you go, Anna?” Elsa asks, scolding, as they turn the corner and almost make it there. She sticks out her tongue at her big sister and keeps going and—

There it is. It’s so pretty, she thinks. It looks so soft and cuddly and she just wants to snuggle it.

“Look-look-look!” she points, and the blupee freezes and stares at them.

“Wow,” Zelda whispers.

Then the blupee dashes into the trees, and Anna follows it.

“Anna, no!” Elsa calls, but why not? What if there are more blupees, around?

She keeps following the light through the trees, and knows Elsa and Zelda are behind her and then—instead of trees, a clearing. A flower? But it’s huge, and it looks like it’s full of water? The blupee is near the edge of the flower, by a big bunch of orange mushrooms looking like a way up to the pool. There’s a lady in the water, humming to herself, and she’s so tall and so pretty, with blonde hair like Elsa’s flowing down her back, a necklace that’s got lots and lots of sparkly jewels, and a top that looks like it’s made of seashells, soooooo many seashells of all sorts of colors.

“Anna, you can’t just run off!” Elsa hisses at her as she catches up. Anna barely pays attention.

“Are you a mermaid?” she asks the lady, who turns, and looks at them, and smiles. She has butterfly wings behind one ear.

“No, little one,” the lady says, laughing, “I am Cotera, one of the four Great Fairies.”

A blupee. The last time she saw a blupee in Kakariko—or at least the first time? Who is she to say it never happened again after that?—it lead her exactly where she needs to go, now. So, quietly as she can, she approaches the blupee. Just like in her memory, before she can get too close, the creature freezes and stares before running away. Just like in her memory, she follows.

But the clearing is different, this time. The big flower, Cotera’s home, is closed up tight, like a bud that has yet to bloom. Cautious, she makes her way to the mushroom ramp that still exists before reaching out her hand and laying it on one of the petals.

“Girl… Sweet girl…” the voice is the same as the one from her memory, though not nearly so loud and joyful, “I am the Great Fairy Cotera. Once I had… Great power. But pilgrims and their offerings have become less, and less, and I am but a fraction of what I once was… I beg your help, dear one… A silent princess, a blue nightshade, an apple,” as each is named, she gets an impression in her head as to what the items look like, although to be fair. She knew apples, “If I could have… But these three things… I might be whole again. Once my power is restored… I can help you do great things, child.”

A hand reaches out through the closed petals, palm open, waiting, startling Anna.

“Oh. Um, yes, can you! Can you wait just a minute? I only have the apple, on me, but I definitely saw a blue nightshade and a silent princess before I walked up to your petals, ma’am! Actually, here,” she reaches into her bag of spare supplies, things that hadn’t gone into the slate’s storage, yet, puts the apple into Cotera’s palm, “I’ll be right back! I promise!” she backs slowly down the mushroom platform, nearly trips over her own feet but manages to stay upright. Quickly as she can, she runs for the flowers, surrounding the clearing, and picks one of each of the two before taking them back to the waiting hand.

Once all three items are in the outstretched palm, the hand snatches back inside the petals quickly, as though afraid she’ll change her mind and take something back, and then—

Cotera, just as Anna remembered her, bursts out of the water as the petals bloom, arms outreached above her head, and then she looks down and—

“Anna? Sweet little Anna! My goodness, it’s been—hmm. I didn’t think Hylians lived this long, dear, and certainly not without getting old. Where are any of your friends, sunshine? I always did like looking at that one boy, the tall one, what was his name? Oh—never mind, darling! Where are your clothes is the more important question! Your lovely armor that my sisters and I enchanted for you!”

“I— Don’t know?” she tries, shrugging, “Kind of lost most of my memories while I was getting healed after a really bad battle, back then. Link’s got the same problem, he’s… At the shrine above the village, right now.”

“So his enchanted armor is gone, too? How tragic! My sisters are in even worse states than I was, honey, we won’t be able to just replace what you lost any time soon. Not that I’d waste my breath on those sorry things you’re wearing. Honestly, sweets! You come back, love, with decent clothing, and the right ingredients for my magic, and I’ll do what I can, for you and for Link. And keep an eye out for my sisters, on your journey! They’ll want to help, too, once their powers are restored.”

“That’s the plan, yes,” Anna agrees, “Oh—you wouldn’t happen to know the proper offerings for the Golden Three, would you?”

“Those snobs? No, precious, I’m sorry. I’m sure whatever it is will be hard to acquire, though—not like the offerings for us, the Great Fairies, my sisters and I. We’re much more accessible, you know!”

***

Hans stares at his brother’s bookshelves.

The Hero of Twilight. Does he try and find something on it? Is he that curious about what Link said? Is he that unwilling to put Link and Anna out of his mind, forget them, beyond saying something to someone about that Sheikah artifact they had, like he really should?

“I can practically hear you brooding, Hans,” Lars says, not looking up from the book he’s studying, some ancient and massive tome with a title in a form of Hylian old enough, removed enough from the current language, that Hans can’t tell what it is, “did my books do something to offend you?”

“Your books are fine,” he says, hoping he sounds dismissive enough that Lars will drop the subject.

“Hm. You have seemed out of sorts since you arrived. I suppose that means something happened while you were traveling. Some of our nieces and nephews run away again? No, Caleb would have sent me a note to watch for them. You’re not angry enough for it to be something the twins did. So. Someone from outside the Clan leave an impression, then?”

He closes his eyes to try and collect his thoughts rather than react, and Anna’s smile flashes through his mind. He needs to stop this.

“Tell me about the Hero of Twilight,” he says, rather than answer.

“The tale is in the Historia,” Lars gestures at the shelves dismissively, “That’s the one bound in green. The Era of Twilight hasn’t been one of my particular interests and I’m sure the book will serve you better than I can. As I recall, it was a young man called Link, of Ordon Province. You know, no one knows where Ordon Province was, anymore. Just that it was to the south of Hyrule, as Hyrule’s borders existed at the time.”

He spots the book in question, on the shelf. He doesn’t reach for it.

“And if someone told you that they were named for the Hero of Twilight? How likely would you find that?”

Lars does look up from his book, with that. Fixes him with a sharp look.

“Incredibly unlikely. Any Link you meet these days will be for the Hylian Champion who fell at the Miracle at Fort Hateno, as they call it.”

But Link had seemed surprised that he’d said it, not like he was lying. Hans is missing something, he knows he is. Some piece of information that will make everything make sense.

“Tell me what this is really about, little brother,” Lars says. And Lars is the one brother who has always been on his side. Who actually understands interacting with the people outside of the Clan, as much as Lars still prefers his books.

So even though he’s afraid he’ll sound like a fool, he does.

***

In the morning, in Kakariko’s clothing store, Enchanted, the girl behind the counter, Claree, looks at the clothes they’ve been wearing and reacts almost as disgustedly as Cotera had.

“No,” she frowns, “these won’t do at all! You’re heroes. Even if most people wouldn’t believe that, you need to at least look the part! To project yourself well so that you’ll be taken seriously when you get to the people you need to help. Ugh, who left these for you at the Shrine? They should have put more thought into things.”

“We don’t need anything special, really,” Anna tries to protest, heading over to a mannequin with a simple gray cloak, “something like this would be fine, I’m sure.”

“No!” Claree calls again, heading into the back room, “No, you’re not just taking the cheapest things we have with no thought to aesthetic! If this is the only way I can contribute to helping you save the world, then I’m doing it right!”

A few minutes later, she comes back, bundles of fabric in her arms. She starts with Link, shoving at him a good pair of boots, some plain tan trousers, a deep green tunic, and a cloak, like the one on the mannequin, but black, and then pushing him with the clothes into a changing room. Then she starts handing things to Anna.

A pair of boots in somewhat better condition than the ones that fit they found on the Plateau. Soft black leggings. A dark blue dress with white silent princess flowers embroidered around the skirt, golden detailing on the bodice that makes it look like a night sky. And, of course, a cloak of her own, but in a dark green similar to Link’s new tunic. She’s pushed into a changing room of her own and lets her hair out of its braids, leaving it loose—

It’s funny, how these clothes that actually fit just make her feel pretty. It’s not a priority, not with the world on the line, so she refuses to indulge herself with thinking about it, but it’s nice, anyway.

And then, once they’ve paid—as much as Claree will let them pay, anyway, which Anna is fairly certain isn’t the actual value of the clothes—they’re on the road again. There seem to be more travelers out and about, today, and, heeding Impa’s warning about the Yiga, they don’t approach any of them. There are also quite a few bokoblins, lying in wait alongside the road, and the fights they have delay their journey to the point where, while they see a tower, on their trip, the sun is starting to set when they do, and so they push onwards into town, instead, deciding they’ll activate it when they leave, which won’t be for another day, at least, since it’s far too late to head to the lab when they arrive.

Link heads for the shrine that’s basically in town; Anna heads to the inn, or that’s her plan, anyway, hoping there’s a stall available for Kjekk if they spend the night, and she’s passing a tiny house when she hears—

“Anna? Is that you?”

Hans! Ooh, she knew it was possible she’d see him—hard not to, with Link teasing her in front of Impa—but she hadn’t expected, somehow, to be taken unaware. She pauses, just a moment, collects herself, before she turns to see him.

“Hi!” she says, smiling brightly.

Hi. Ugh, she feels silly. Tongue-tied. Ridiculous! She’s a hero, or so everyone keeps telling her. What’s so hard about talking to a cute guy?

“You, uh— didn’t like Kakariko?” he asks, sounding a little tongue-tied himself. It makes her feel better, honestly.

“No, it was lovely!” she feels the need to defend the village, “Just, uh. Well. You saw that thing at my brother’s hip, right? We. Found it, the day we set out. And, um. The people there. They suggested. We bring it to the lab on the hill, here, to um. To see what they make of it. So! Here we are! Well. Just um. Just me, here-here. Link’s. You know. He likes to—”

“Explore a bit more than you do?” Hans finishes for her, smiling. His eyes are so kind, as he looks at her.

“Yeah,” she agrees. It’s not quite the truth, because she does like exploring, quite a bit, but since they already weren’t telling people that Link was going into the shrines, since she’d already omitted that when talking to Hans the first time, it’s the best she can do.

“Here,” he holds out an arm, “let me—let me lead you to the farm that houses visitor’s horses. Sitron would love to see you, I’m sure.”

She takes his offered arm. As they walk, he tells her a bit about the brother he’d come to visit—a historian, taking advantage of the fact that Hateno and its records were mostly untouched when so much of the rest of Hyrule was destroyed, 100 years ago. Soon enough Kjekk is taken care of for however long they stay in Hateno, and she’s said hello to Sitron, and—

“Would you like me to show you around the village?” Hans offers, “Until Link catches up?”

She could say no, and head to the inn. But she doesn’t really want to. And not spending time with him won’t make the safety of the world come any quicker, now, will it?

They’re near the shrine when she hears what sounds like construction, despite how late in the day it is. Curious, she follows the noise across a bridge, Hans trailing indulgently behind her.

She’s greeted by the sight of a house on a cliffside meadow. Old, a little bit crumbling, but lovely, somehow. Despite its condition, she can practically see what it would be like with a little bit of care; the flower garden it should have, and where a stable for a horse or two could go. The perfect place for an apple tree. For a coop for some cuccos, not so many as Impa’s guard Cado has, but a few, anyway.

Her breath catches in her throat.

She wants it. Feels even sillier about that than she does about the way Hans makes her heart flutter. She’s going to be traveling for the foreseeable future. A house would be absolutely pointless. At least he’s a fellow traveler, and their paths seem intent on crossing.

And then she sees the sounds she’d heard—what she thought were construction—are destruction. It’s being torn down. And she just—she can’t bear the thought.

The first person she approaches points her towards the back of the house, to the boss, a man named Bolson.

“I’d buy it!” she tells him. Feels sillier and sillier but—she has to try.

He tries to talk her out of it, says the price would be 50,000 rupees, and, well, even if she and Link had that much they’d probably be better off saving it for their expenses. Inns and stables and arrows.

But she won’t be dissuaded.

“I don’t have that now,” she tells him, “but I’ll get it! I’ll find a way! Just—please. Give me a chance to do that, instead of tearing it down.”

He stares at her. Shifts his gaze to Hans.

“You,” he says, “I’ve seen you around town before. You’re the historian’s brother.”

“I am,” Hans agrees.

“All right. Here’s the deal, princess,” Bolson looks back at her, “You and your boyfriend bring me 3,000 rupees, and 30 bundles of wood to use as building materials, and the house is yours, and we’ll fix it up for you.”

“Oh, he’s— Not my—” she tries to protest, blushing. Bolson doesn’t let her finish.

“He’s the reason you get the deal, sweetie, because his brother is a trusted member of this community. Unless you would rather pay the whole 50,000?”

“It’s all right, Anna, I’m happy to help you out,” Hans says, gently, then asks, “payment all at once, or in installments?”

“Any stranger, and I’d say all at once. You two? Bring what you can, when you can.”

“Then here’s a start,” Hans says, pulling out a silver rupee and tossing it to the man.

“Hudson! Karson! Take a break. We’re not pulling this house down today!”

***

Link is waiting at the inn when Hans finally escorts Anna there, says goodnight to her.

She’s been trying to convince him that he doesn’t need to help her with the house she wanted to purchase. And really, he knows he shouldn’t. He’s just getting more and more attached to her, and it’s a bad idea.

But just as she refused to be dissuaded from purchasing the house, he refuses to allow her to dissuade him from helping.

He just wants—still, as he has for two days now—to see her smile. If this is a way he can make that happen, well, he’ll do it. No matter how ill-advised.

His peace—or whatever this feeling is—is shattered when he steps inside Lars’ home to see the twins, in full uniform minus their masks. Only the knowledge that they have no possible way of knowing about Anna keeps him from reaching for the knives concealed on his person. If they ever want to use her against him, he’ll deal with them. He doesn’t care how ridiculous that sounds.

“Relax, little Hans,” Runo sneers, “we’re just here so Lars can confirm something our contact in Kakariko told us wasn’t a fairy-story.”

Rudi is comparing a parchment to one of Lars’ books, one that doesn’t look quite so old as most. All Hans can tell of the parchment is that there seems to be a drawing on it.

“Well, well,” Rudi says, after a few minutes of staring, “It seems the Hylian Champion and the Lady of Arendelle have risen from the grave. Hans, your task hasn’t changed. Learn what you can. But our people will be out in force, from now on. We’ve got targets to hunt.”

The twins replace their masks before using their sigils to teleport away in a puff of smoke.

Lars looks at him, eyes full of—pity?

“I’m sorry, Hans,” his brother says, turning the book so that he can see it, “I know you quite liked her.”

On the page is an illustration, faithfully done. Copper hair and blue eyes that catch his breath in his throat even before he sees that it’s been captioned—

Lady Anna of Arendelle.

Chapter Text

Link watches, amused, as Anna pulls a couple of bundles of wood out of the slate and hands them to the construction manager near a dilapidated house in Hateno. Somehow, when his back was turned, she ended up—agreeing to buy a house. With Hans.

Tell me what happened, again, he signs, on their way from the house up the hill to visit the lab, like they’d come to Hateno to do. He’s surprised they haven’t run into Hans yet this morning, since they’d decided to get to the lab around noon and have been wandering the village instead.

“So you can laugh at me again? I don’t think so,” Anna huffs. To be fair, he had laughed at her, last night at the inn, when she’d first told him what happened, but he wasn’t trying to be mean about it.

No, so I can figure out how I’m going to explain this to your sister once we get her and the princess out of the castle, he counters. The reason he’s using sign, for the moment. Don’t want anyone hearing him say something like that and deciding they’re both insane. Still. He may not have any memories of Elsa, but he has a feeling like she won’t like this. No matter how obviously mutually smitten Anna and Hans are.

“Look, it just sort of happened,” Anna sighs, “I tried to tell him he doesn’t need to help, but…”

But Link is pretty sure that, as little time as they’ve known each other, Hans would rather die than not do something nice for Anna, if he could, in fact, do something nice for Anna. Which is why he’s so surprised about the not-running-into-him-yet-today thing. The pair of them, in the same place and aware of it? Something has to be off for him not to show up.

No time to dwell on it, though, he decides, as they reach the lab, finally. Anna knocks on the door, which swings open, and both of them walk inside.

Two people are within; a Sheikah child, at the table in the center of the room, and a Sheikah man looking at the bookshelves in the back. Odd; Impa had said her older sister was the one in charge here, right?

“If you’re here to see the director, he’s in the back, he’s very busy,” says the child. She’s got a sly grin on her face and Link shares a confused look with Anna. Whoever that Sheikah is, he cannot possibly be Impa’s older sister Purah. He’s just not that old.

Although, maybe—well, he supposes that if anyone looked at him or Anna they wouldn’t guess that the pair of them are as old as they technically are, either. But they had the weird healing shrine to thank for that. Somehow, he doesn’t think that’s the case here.

Anna shrugs, and they both head to the man in the back.

He seems a little scattered, showing off the lab’s collection of books first of all before realizing that Link has the Sheikah Slate.

“Oh! Sir Link and Lady Anna!” he greets, after a moment of getting distracted studying their runes, “Forgive me for not introducing myself. I’m Symin.”

“You know who we are?” Anna asks.

“Of course! Lady Impa has always made sure we’re aware that you would arrive someday. It is, after all, our sworn duty, to help against the Calamity. Ah— One moment,” he turns towards the child, “Director! Director Purah, this is a real Sheikah Slate.”

“Uh… Director?” Anna repeats, “but—I thought Director Purah was Impa’s older sister?”

“Check it!” calls the child, jumping up exuberantly.

“It’s complicated,” Symin sighs.

***

Purah recognized Link and Anna as soon as they walked into her lab, of course. Symin may have felt the need to tell her the slate was real, but, like, duh. Researching and understanding the Shrine on the Plateau was her project. The second healing pod was her biggest accomplishment, in some ways, even though they’d also really had no idea if either pod would work. Also, Link was the best of all the knights, as far as helping with her various experiments, and thereby her favorite. Also, if she’d been a warrior-guardian like Impa was, instead of a scientist, she would have been assigned to Anna, which was actually kind of hilarious, given Anna’s determination to be a warrior herself. Given that Anna is a way better fighter than Purah could ever hope to be. Also, as Symin would know if he actually paid attention, she was the one who put them into the Shrine. Well, Robbie helped, but! She’s the oldest Sheikah in Hyrule, that doesn’t mean her memory is gone, and she knows what her friends looked like! Obviously!

“Surprise! Were you surprised? It’s me! Purah! Director of the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab! Snappity snap! Now, first things first, Linky, Anna, tell me any dreams you remember from while you were in the Slumber of Restoration. You guys look just like you did 100 years ago, but it can’t have been absolutely nothing, right?” 

Hmm. Blank stares. Not a good sign. They’d known memory loss was a possible complication. She had, herself, unfortunately theorized it would be total memory loss, at least on a temporary basis—a “not overloading the brain while healing” sort of thing that the Shrine would impose. Blocked access, more than real loss. But it takes at least two days to get from the Shrine to Hateno—maybe closer to three or four—and judging by their outfits not being whatever Robbie left in those chests 100 years ago, because he just doesn’t have that much taste, they’ve probably already been to Kakariko, which is another two days they’ve been up, minimum, and. Hmmm. Maybe she’ll just go ahead and assume they woke up shortly before the towers rose. That seems a sensible guess.

That’s a little more than a week.

And they don’t even remember her, yet. Her! Purah! The foremost leading expert in her fields!

…okay, maybe the fact that she looks about six has something to do with it. Hopefully. Ugh, if her anti-aging rune had just worked properly she would look like the 24-year-old they last knew her as! Maybe then they’d be getting somewhere!

She pulls out her notebook and jots down her observations so far. Total memory loss. Not fun, not fun, but science isn’t, always. Sometimes there are stumbling blocks, like this.

“No, seriously, I thought Impa said—” Anna questions.

“That’s because Impa doesn’t know about the experiment I was working on that did this,” Purah waves her off, “she just knows I’m not letting anyone new come out here to learn. It’s fine! Forget about it! Or, no, that’s maybe an insensitive thing to say given your memories—do you have absolutely nothing or has anything come back, since you’ve been up?”

“I remembered Aryll, a little, when I heard her name,” Linky admits. Good, good. That’s a start.

“And you, Anna? Anything?” Purah prompts.

“Meeting Cotera, after seeing a blupee when I was… five, I think. Seeing a blupee now brought it back,” Anna admits.

“Makes sense, makes sense, you were definitely the one who introduced everyone to her,” Purah nods, jotting down more notes. Familiar sights and names as reminders is good.

“Anyway! Back to the topic at hand! You two! Have come back! From the Slumber of Restoration! To defeat Calamity Ganon, to save Princess Zelda and Lady Elsa and all of Hyrule! And I! The one and only Purah! Will help! By restoring the basic functionality of your Sheikah Slate! Go on, you can thank me.”

“Thank you?” Linky says. Ahh, Linky. Always a good sport. Nice to know some things haven’t changed.

“Perfect! Just one itty-bitty favor, first. I need you to go get the blue flame from in town and light the furnace, before we can get started. Once the furnace is lit, my sweet little guidance stone will work again, and we can get going!”

Did that sound like an old lady? Oh, she hopes she hasn’t gotten uncool. That would be the worst.

“Go on, Linky,” she says, making a shooing motion at him, “There’s a torch by the door you can use, and Anna can stay here and fill me in on everything since you’ve been up.”

“Make sure she doesn’t forget to tell you about Hans,” Link says, a teasing grin on his face as he dashes for the door, grabbing the torch on his way.

“Link!” Anna yells after him, frustrated. Purah smiles. Elsa always thought that Anna and Link were bad influences on each other, but Purah always thought they were the second siblings that each other needed, and it seems like they’re even closer to that since they woke up.

“Oh, come on, Anna! If you can’t talk to me about a boy, who can you talk to?” Purah encourages, “Is he cute? I’ll bet he’s cute. Tell me all about him.”

***

They have dinner at the lab—Purah insists, after the slate has been restored to full functionality, with its camera and compendium. She flips through the pictures that are already in storage, landscapes, mostly, with a look of concentration on her face.

“Ok!” she announces, after a while, “I have an idea, but you should go back and talk to Impa about it before you actually act on it. Linky, you were Zelda’s appointed knight. This was her slate, before she left it for you two. These pictures? You were probably there when most or all of them were taken. We know that familiar sights will get you memories back, because of Anna’s blupee-induced memory, yeah? So. I think if you travel to these landscapes, it might help. But my sister knew Zelda better than me, so get her take on it. Also! Any ancient parts you get, bring ‘em to me, orrrrrr you could take ‘em to Robbie’s lab in Akkala, but, you should definitely bring ‘em to me first because I can definitely make some of your runes better. All he can make you is weapons and armor. Useful, sure, but not as useful, I promise.”

On their way back down to the inn, Anna stops at the farm where Kjekk is boarded to give him a treat; she comes back with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Link asks.

“Sitron’s gone,” she tells him, “The girl there—she told me Hans left this morning. I—He didn’t say goodbye. I would’ve thought…”

Huh. That’s… Weird, because Link would’ve thought, too.

“Maybe it was an emergency?” he suggests, “he said his brother here wasn’t his only brother, right?”

Anna takes a deep breath, and nods.

“Yeah. That makes sense. Thanks, I—I know it’s silly of me, when we have so much on our plates, but—”

“It’s not silly. Silly would be… Ignoring that we have emotions, just because there’s something else bigger than us going on,” he can almost remember someone saying that to him, sometime before. Almost. Warm, motherly, but not his mother, he doesn’t think, “It’s good to feel. It reminds us what we’re doing this for.”

Anna crashes into him, arms wrapping around his ribs in a hug. Your battle-sister, the statue in the Temple had called her. My sister, he thinks, instead, not just a bond for a battlefield. He’s just as protective of her as he would be of Aryll, if she were right in front of him.

“I’m sure you’ll see him again,” he assures, returning the hug. Because she has to, right? The way the two of them are, together, there’s no way it’s over already, “He promised to help you with the house, remember?”

“He really didn’t want me to say he shouldn’t help,” Anna giggles, relaxing just a fraction. It’s enough, for now, and they continue on their way.

In the morning, when they leave Hateno—after Anna drops off a few more bundles of wood that she’d gathered while Symin was cooking dinner after Purah had told her she was free to hit any of the trees near the lab that she wanted—they take the long way back to Kakariko, a looping other road that takes them straight past the tower they’d skipped on their way here. It’s covered in thorns, but a few of their small supply of fire arrows clear it off enough that he can make his way to the top and get their map filled in while Anna waits below with Kjekk.

Unfortunately, this detour makes it impossible to make the trek in a single day, and they’re near Fort Hateno when it starts getting dark. Even the Dueling Peaks stable is further away than he’d like it to be, for one night’s travel, so when they find an abandoned campfire near the fort itself, with no monsters in sight, they decide to make camp, using their cloaks and saddlebags as makeshift bedrolls.

Link.

Anna.

He hears Zelda and Elsa, speaking to them. Tosses, in his sleep. Something is wrong.

Be on your guard.

Ganon’s power grows… It rises to its peak under the hour of the Blood Moon.

In his dream, he sees monsters. Appearing, as though from nothing.

By its glow, the aimless spirits of monsters slain in the name of the light return to flesh.

He shudders.

Link. Anna. Please be careful.

Anna screams, and he wakes.

The moon, in the sky, is red. Bright, bloody red.

Just like it was in his nightmare.

Chapter Text

A blood moon. Damn it, he hates blood moons. Monsters, for whatever reason, don’t normally bother the Yiga Clan—except Lynels, but anyone who gets near a Lynel without backup is asking for trouble anyway—but they’re always more aggressive when they’ve just been restored by the Calamity’s dark power, and tend to be less discriminating as to who they’ll attack, not caring as much that they’re technically on the same side. Assuming that’s the reason they don’t attack the Clan in the first place.

He has enough on his mind without having to deal with this, too, he thinks, practically growling in frustration as a blue bokoblin gets too close and doesn’t live to regret it, his knives finding their mark unerringly, the creature’s magic-granted second chance over almost as soon as it begins.

She’s the enemy.

Anna.

She’s his enemy.

Lady Anna of Arendelle.

He’s supposed to hate her.

Anna.

He’s supposed to want her dead.

Lady Anna. Of Arendelle.

He still just wants to make her smile.

Anna.

But she’s the enemy.

Lady. Anna. Of. Arendelle.

Link, too.

That was the missing piece that made it all make sense.

Link wasn’t named after the Hylian Champion and lying about it, he was the Hylian Champion.

Anna was the younger of the ladies of Arendelle, the Warrior-Lady, not the Ice Witch.

They’re the enemy.

Sir Link, of Akkala. Lady Anna, of Arendelle.

A pair of lizalfos come at him, next. He grins at them, savage, imagines they’re the twins as he pulls his sickle on them.

They don’t stand any more of a chance than the bokoblin had.

He’s a fool.

An idiot who saw a pretty smile and could think of nothing else.

Pathetic, just like his father has always told him he is.

She’s the enemy.

Most of his brothers will be out there, hunting her, trying to kill her.

He’s supposed to want them to succeed.

He’s not supposed to be out here, slaying monsters out of his sheer frustration that he can’t muster up hatred for either Anna or Link.

Especially not Anna.

Another bokoblin goes down, then a moblin. Sitron lashes out at a chuchu that gets too near his hooves. One thing. He had found one thing he wanted for himself—being the reason that she smiles—and for what? Lars’ pity? The knowledge that if he leaves the Clan, over her, it will only put a bigger target on her back, while also marking him as a traitor to be hunted, just like the man in Kakariko that the twins get their information from? The certainty that if she ever finds out who he is, what he is, she’ll reject him outright?

Pathetic fool.

That’s all he is.

That’s all he’s ever been.

***

She’d been sleeping when the nightmare came—or, the message from Zelda and Elsa, more accurately. Waking to see the moon not only the wrong color, but the wrong phase? More than a little unnerving.

There are still no monsters in the general area where they’ve made camp, though, and so they stay, until morning, to avoid the stals that they’d been warned about.

She doesn’t get one bit more sleep, though.

Kakariko is a comfort, when they arrive. Something about the town is calm and soothing. Everyone greets them with a smile.

They’re supposed to talk to Impa about the photos in the slate. But Anna, seeing her, instead blurts out—

“What was that? Last night?”

Impa sighs.

“That, old friend, was the blood moon. They’re unpredictable—the last was about three months before you woke. There have, on occasion since the Calamity, been entire years without them. There have also been periods where they occurred every few days. Our only prevailing theory is that they’re times when Zelda and Elsa’s hold on the Beast slips, just enough that it can send a tendril of vile magic out into the world. Blood moons are the reason nothing has been rebuilt, in the last century—every monster we slay comes back. It keeps the war unending, the places between settlements wild.”

How horrifying must that be? To never know when every bit of progress they make will be undone? Well, actually, she has a feeling that this won’t be the only time it happens while they’re on their journey, so she and Link are absolutely going to find out how horrifying that is. But for a century? For longer than most people have even been alive? What must it be like, for life like this to be all you’ve ever known?

She hopes Hans is okay, wherever he’d gone. Can’t help the worry for him that forms in the pit of her stomach. If he travels a lot, like he’s suggested, then he can’t be too unprepared for monsters, but—if the blood moon is as unpredictable as Impa says, what if he was somewhere where he was suddenly surrounded, when it rose? He knows better than to travel at night, she tells herself. Would have stopped at a stable, or something—maybe he was safe and sound at Dueling Peaks, again!

The assurances feel hollow and empty, even to herself.

But she can’t just assume the worst. She has to believe he’s okay. That she’ll see him again, not just wonder forever about what happened to him.

She’s barely listening as Link tells Impa about Purah’s idea, shows her the pictures on the slate.

“This is the east gate by Mount Lanayru,” Impa says, tapping one of them, “It’s less than half a day’s ride from here. The promenade is full of monsters, but at a hard gallop they should be easy to outrun, and I think your horse should be able to carry you both for such a short distance. You can go in the morning, see if it triggers anything. We can talk about you visiting the rest of the locations after you return.”

So they spend the night in Kakariko, again. Anna spends some time with Paya; it doesn’t really get the girl to talk more, but she does seem a little more confident in herself when she does speak, by the end of the night.

And in the morning, they follow Impa’s advice. Take Kjekk, and head up the hill past the woods where Cotera’s fountain hides and through the Lanayru Promenade to the east gate, outrunning monsters the whole way.

At first, she thinks—nothing is going to happen. But then—Link turns around. Like he’s walking from behind the gate, towards her. And something about him, there—

Anna is standing between Mipha and Urbosa, waiting with the Champions for Zelda and Link and Impa to come back down from the Spring on Mount Lanayru. Elsa is waiting back in Kakariko, doesn’t believe that prayers at the Spring of Wisdom will give their cousin any better results than they’ve given her, as far as her powers are concerned.

But Anna’s optimistic. She has to be. She knows that there must be a way—that Zelda hasn’t been working her whole life for nothing. That they can show Uncle Rhoam that she’s not a failure.

Finally, near sunset, they return. Zelda’s head is hung, low—disappointment. The trip was a bust, then. Link locks eyes with Mipha—his gaze is always drawn to Mipha, first, as she’s teased him about relentlessly—and shakes his head, barely perceptible. Impa, as usual, is unreadable, but that’s part of her job. She’ll show more emotion about this later, away from Zelda, Anna is sure.

“Well? Don’t keep us in suspense! How’d everything go up there on the mountain?” Anna wants to groan at Daruk—can’t he see how disappointed Zelda is? How upset? He’s wonderful, really, he is, an absolute role model of a Goron, the kind of adult that anyone of any species should look up to, and goddesses know that Uncle Rhoam could take lessons in interacting with others from him, but sometimes, she wonders about his tact.

Zelda can’t even seem to muster the words for an answer, shaking her head, instead. Revali—usually softer with Zelda than he is with any of the others, because he sees how hard she works and works and gets no results and he seems to feel her struggles make her more worthy of his respect than the rest of them—presses further, gets Zelda to admit that she felt nothing, not even a spark of her sealing power.

Anna glances at Mipha, and at Urbosa. Mipha is still staring at Link, looks like she’s building the nerve to say something. Of course, Link is still staring at Mipha, too. If the fight with the Calamity goes as it’s supposed to, and they win, Anna is going to lock those two in a room together until they admit they’ve got mutual feelings, she swears she will.

Urbosa speaks up. Suggests they move on. Find something else to spark Zelda’s power.

If they had any ideas what else might do it, they would have used those ideas ages ago, right?

But it helps. Brings a hint of a smile to Zelda’s face.

“If I may—” Mipha speaks, “I don’t know how to put this into words. But— I thought— Maybe, knowing what I think about, with my healing, might— help. I’ve been trying, to—figure out how to explain—and maybe it would be better if Elsa was here, too, because I think that it might help her, as well—but—when I use my ability. What usually goes through my mind, is—”

But Mipha never finishes her sentence. The ground shakes, terribly. Revali takes wing, to get an aerial view.

The Calamity is arrived. At the castle, according to what Revali tells them when he returns to the ground.

They’re out of time.

Daruk takes charge. Orders the Champions to their Divine Beasts. Link is to lead the charge at the castle, on the creature; Anna’s his backup. She may not have a destiny-granted sword, may not be Farore’s Chosen, but she has worked hard for years for her skills and she’s going to help, just like she’s always planned.

Urbosa tries to tell Zelda that she and Elsa should get somewhere safe and hide away.

Zelda refuses. Elsa will, too, Anna knows.

The terror that she felt in the past still has Anna gripped by the throat, when she comes out of the memory. Judging by the look on Link’s face, he had—his own perspective on the same moment. Remembering—even the barest hint of how he was with Mipha, about Mipha—tempers her annoyance at how he’s been teasing her about Hans.

Those were their friends. The others. The Champions. Daruk and Revali and Mipha and Urbosa. Not just names that Impa is reciting to them, but people, people they had cared about—some more than others, maybe, but still.

Was Daruk as fearless as he seemed, when he took charge? If she and Link were supposed to head to the castle, how did they end up falling near Fort Hateno? That wouldn’t be on their way to the castle, not from here. Was Zelda the only one of them that Revali respected, really? What had Mipha been about to say? Where had Urbosa thought that Zelda and Elsa should go, to hide away? Paya, now, looks so much like Impa had, then, and yet their personalities are night and day, or so it seems. She remembers so little of them, all of them, wishes she had more than the few scraps that gave her.

There are tears in Link’s eyes, unshed. Hers, too, by the way she feels.

Neither of them says anything, not yet, climbing back onto Kjekk’s back and making the run back to Kakariko.

***

He isn’t sure what he’s more annoyed by, as he boards Sitron in Hateno, again; the fact that Anna has left town already, as the girl who helps with the horses makes clear when telling him that—that Anna asked after him. When she saw Sitron was gone—or the fact that he was hoping she was still there, hoping he’d see her again, hoping. If she was still in Hateno she’d be relatively safe.

Not that members of the Clan don’t come here—he and Lars are proof of that—but inside of a town, keeping their covers is a big part of the mission. Even the worst of their ilk wouldn’t dream of harming her in a place like this.

He’s a pathetic fool, he’s accepted that, but he can’t hate her, he wants her safe more than anything. So if she was in Hateno, still, he could—be assured of her safety. Without feeling like he’s turning his back on everything else.

A plan starts to form, in the back of his mind. It’s risky—in more than one way.

But if he does it right… Pulls it off…

It could be the only course of action, for him.

“The book. The one you showed me. I need it,” he announces to Lars as he enters his brother’s home, again.

“What are you planning?” Lars asks, suspicion heavy in his tone.

“To do what I do best,” he says, hoping to whatever forces are out there that he sounds as full of conviction as he wants to, “Infiltration. Information gathering. Stealing trust. I’m going to join the heroes on their quest. Learn their plans. Be our inside man.”

“If anyone even suspects you’re actually seriously on their side, you’ll be hunted just as thoroughly as they are, you know that,” his brother reminds. A reminder he didn’t need. That’s the first risk. The biggest risk. He’s well aware of it.

“They already know and trust me,” he points out, “This is my job. I’m going to do it.”

He’s going to play both sides. To be her friend and her confidante—and her betrayer.

What other way forward is there, for him, stuck between everything he is and has ever been, and his admiration for her?

Chapter Text

His head is still swimming with the memory from the east gate when they arrive back in Kakariko. The faces of his fellow Champions. The way his heart had raced at the sight of Mipha, in particular, despite his surety, in the memory, that—she didn’t feel the same way. She couldn’t have. She was his best friend, always, but so far above him—a princess, and a skilled warrior, and a healer in equal measure—that for her to notice him, as more than a friend, would have been like… Like asking Anna not to be optimistic. Like finding Aryll without a bird or three or more following her around.

Impossible. What was special, after all, about him? The boy who happened to find a legendary sword in the woods a few days after he turned twelve? Oh, he worked hard, trained hard, but it was the sword that everyone cared about.

Well, not everyone. Mipha was his best friend with or without it. Anna the slightly-older sister he never had. As far as Aryll was concerned, he was still just her big brother.

He doesn’t remember enough of Zelda and Elsa and the other Champions to know how they felt.

But—the king. The court. Most of the citizens he would encounter in the course of his duties, protecting Zelda. The feeling in that memory was so strong that—that the sword was all he had with him, in that moment so many years ago, because the sword was what was important. About him.

Anna tells Impa about what they remembered. The day the Calamity struck. Link wonders what feelings she remembered, but she sticks to the events.

“I thought if it was any day, it might be that one,” Impa says, sadly, patting Anna’s hands, “Elsa never took you up there when she went to pray to Nayru for understanding of her powers. Still. It must be a difficult memory to face, when you have so few others to your name. We have, however, proven Purah’s theory is accurate enough, so—yes. I would advise seeking out the other landscapes. Now, I know the slate has teleportation abilities, but I think you should only use it in extreme circumstances. The Yiga may have a harder time realizing who you are if you continue to travel on foot and on horseback, as most are restricted to. We still have some excellent mapmakers, among our people, so I had the most recent maps brought over—which of the Divine Beasts were you two planning on freeing first?”

“Vah Ruta,” Link says, swallowing back the feelings of inadequacy. He doesn’t have the sword, now. Doesn’t even know what happened to it. But— Mipha’s Divine Beast, first. For what little memory he has of her, “It’s closest to here, based on what you told us before, right?”

“It is,” Impa agrees, “Sticking to the roads will take you on a more roundabout route—past the Dueling Peaks and almost back to where you started before you can head northeast,” she shows them, on the physical map she’s brought, “and tempting as it may be, I cannot advise you trying to activate the tower in Central Hyrule, just yet. That area—everything south of the castle, really—is crawling with Guardians. You’ll need well more of your strength back before that. I do advise boarding your horse at the Riverside stable—the wetlands won’t be kind to him, not with the torrential rains that are currently being reported.”

They stay one more night in Kakariko. In the morning, when they depart, without the distractions of Hestu and his maracas, or the shrines they’ve already activated, or having to cross the river to get to the Dueling Peaks tower, they make much better time than they had on their trip to Kakariko, making it all the way to Brigo, the friendly patrolman, and his campfire before they rest for the night.

He thinks, in the distance, he sees the white-and-lightning ribbon from that last night on the Plateau, again. Hears it calling. But they have a plan, and running south after what might be his imagination isn’t it.

In the morning, there’s a thunderstorm so intense that he thinks maybe he shouldn’t have ignored whatever that calling feeling was. But that sounds silly, even in his head, so he doesn’t say anything to Anna about it as they follow the road, as Impa suggested, racing towards the Riverside Stable. The storm breaks mid-morning, leaving them soaked to the bone but—it was fun, in its way, dashing between the lightning strikes. He feels more alive than he has since they first woke on the Plateau.

“Look, it’s Hestu!” Anna points out the korok, as they arrive at the stable in the afternoon light and board Kjekk. Link greets the friendly fellow and leaves Anna in his company while he completes the shrine that sits right across from the stable, a relatively easy puzzle using the magnesis rune. Once he’s finished, Hestu takes more of the korok seeds from them in exchange for more magic, even though, personally, Link would be happy just to give him the seeds; Hestu needs them more than they do. But the korok refuses to not repay them.

It’s earlier than they usually stop for the evening, when Hestu says he remembers how to get home and departs, suddenly, but since it’s a safe place and they’re already there, they spend the night at the stable.

They cover far less ground the next day. They make it only to a shrine on the outskirts of a ruined village—one of the signs, rotting away, barely legible, declares Welcome to Goponga in bold print.

A whole town, victim of the Calamity. Did the people manage to evacuate, he wonders? Impa had told Anna that Arendelle was no longer standing but a friend evacuated it, so it’s possible that the people here made it elsewhere before the destruction, isn’t it? Zora’s Domain would be closest—but if they weren’t bothering with the roads, it’s possible, too, that they could have made it through the mountains to Kakariko, he thinks. Maybe even further out, if they’d just kept running.

He hopes. Hopes it was just the town that was destroyed, the buildings, and not the people. But he doesn’t know. And he thinks about that memory, about the weight of the sword on his back, about the fact that the Blatchery Plain wasn’t on his way to the castle from Mount Lanayru’s gate but is where he ended up falling, and he also wonders—was I a failure?

He doesn’t say anything. Anna is the sunniest, most optimistic person he’s ever met—he knows as much even without his memories—and he can’t burden her with his doubts. Not when she had that same memory and must be dealing with some heavy feelings of her own that she’s not showing him.

There are different monsters in the ruins. Tall creatures that dance in the air and use wands to hurl lightning, for one thing, but also—

Lizalfos, a fragment of a memory comes to him. Mipha’s voice hissing the word with disgust. The weak point is the horn, but they will not allow you a clean shot. The words seem to hold true, with the way the creatures jump erratically around in battle, darting in and out of reach of his and Anna’s swords like it’s nothing. Still, the two of them manage to clear enough of the monsters out to spend the night on the shrine’s elevator platform, relatively shielded from the rainstorm that’s started, again—no thunder and lightning, not this time, thankfully.

There are two bridges out of Goponga. One leads straight into a structure on the water full of more Lizalfos, crawling with them.

The other, to another island, one that looks relatively uninhabited.

They take the second. No reason to get into unnecessary monster fights when they should preserve their strength and equipment for whatever awaits them in Zora’s Domain. Whatever awaits them with Vah Ruta.

The island is not uninhabited, he realizes, seeing the massive slumbering form of—

“A Hinox!”

They’d fought one together. In Akkala—he’d taken his friends to visit Granny and Aryll, on the way back from escorting Zelda to the Spring of Power, and one of the neighbors had said something off-hand about the creature, terrorizing the farms, stealing goats.

So he and Anna had gone after it.

Link had kept peppering it with arrows, aiming for the eye when he could and distracting when he couldn’t. Anna had darted in and out between its legs, keeping out of the way like a dancer, doing as much damage as she could, in spite of the monster’s armor. It was ironic, actually; on an actual dance floor, among the court, with her sister and cousin, Anna almost always had two left feet. He once saw her trip over nothing while walking across Purah’s lab. Not that Purah’s lab wasn’t full of clutter that made itself tripping hazards anyway, but it was definitely nothing underfoot for Anna at least once. But in battle? In battle, Anna’s every step is sure, exactly where it needs to be.

“Are you two insane? That was a Black Hinox! You both could have died, usually it takes a whole group of soldiers to take one down!” He can’t remember the name, on the tip of his tongue—tall, blond, exasperated with and enamored by Anna at the same time. Link had never liked him much. He had a nasty habit of talking down to Anna, doubting her capability just because she was a bit impulsive.

His best friend was a reindeer, though, and Link had to like him at least a little, because of it. Only a little. It was cool, but not enough to make up for the condescension.

“Sometimes,” says another voice, one he’s heard since waking, a weary sigh, and… Elsa. That’s Elsa, braided hair almost as light as any of the full-blooded Sheikah, although that particular trait had skipped her mother, Lady Idunna, “if I didn’t know any better, I would swear the pair of them were actually twins. You won’t be able to talk sense into them. They urge each other on too much.” Elsa had been calling them “the twins” since about a month after they met, even though Anna’s a year older than him. “Anna’s twin” is absolutely the title he’s been bestowed with since he found the sword that he wears with the most pride, and it always will be. Besides, she’s only exasperated with them because she cares.

“It was a danger to others and we could deal with it, so we did,” Anna returns, sticking her tongue out at the pair of them.

It’s a smaller memory than the last he recovered, he knows. Less significant. Fewer of the details that should have been there came back. When it happened, he would have known that guy’s name, so why is it still lost to him?

But generally it’s good, right? Remembering? Even something so small?

This Hinox is removed enough from civilization that he doesn’t see a point in waking it to fight.

Wide berth? he signs to Anna, and she nods her agreement before they sneak around the edge of the island to the next bridge. Atop the hill in front of them he can see another tower, but before they can cross—

“Hey! Hey you’re Hylians, right? Real Hylians?” calls a voice. Anna, startled, jumps backwards and bumps into him, and he nearly falls off the bridge but he sees—

A Zora. For a moment, just a brief moment, he thinks it’s Mipha, somehow older now—the color of this Zora’s scales is so similar. But that hope falls in his chest almost as immediately as it rises; Mipha was lost in her Divine Beast. All the Champions were. They’ve been told that enough times since they woke up. He knows it. Besides, the voice wasn’t hers.

“Yeah, we’re Hylians,” Anna agrees, after she gets her bearings, spots the Zora too.

“Oooh, I knew it! Great! You need to go see Prince Sidon. He’s at Inogo Bridge, it’s just a bit upstream. Please! It’s really very important!”

“It might take us a bit,” Link says, looking up at the tower. They need the local map. That’s got to be the first priority, “But we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Prince Sidon. Mipha was the Zora Princess, he knows that, remembered that much when that memory from Mount Lanayru slammed into him. So Sidon—must be a relative of hers, right? Did he—Link isn’t sure what a Zora lifespan is, but he feels like it’s long, compared to Hylians. So did Sidon know them, back then? Is he too young to have? If he did, does he blame them, for not stopping the Calamity, for what befell Mipha in Vah Ruta? If he didn’t know them, but learns the truth, will he blame them?

Should he? Are they to blame, somehow, for failing in their duty, or is it all the Calamity? Was there nothing they could have done differently?

Was everything set in stone from the moment everyone split up at that gate?

He pushes his questions aside. Without memories, wondering those things is just dwelling on the things he can’t know. There’s too much at stake to wallow in the uncertainty.

“Thank you!” the Zora calls, “Remember—Prince Sidon! Inogo Bridge! We need your help!”

***

The Domain is in danger. Vah Ruta’s rains, non-stop, will burst the reservoir and flood them—and a good deal of southern Hyrule—if they can’t do anything about it.

She hopes beyond hope that her family can do something about it. Zora’s Domain still stands, and so she knows that her father and brother are well. And if they are well, they will do whatever they can, for their people.

She’d thought—a century ago—that the thing inside of Ruta, Waterblight, would kill her.

Sometimes she wonders if it would be better if it had. But the bond between Divine Beast and pilot—somehow, she knows now, and it knew then—if it had been forcibly severed, like that, then Ruta would have shut down. Waterblight needed her alive. To keep Ruta online. To keep Ruta threatening Zora’s Domain. If it had been able to kill her and ensure that her spirit would remain trapped, it might have. Instead, rather than risk her returning to Lord Jabu-Jabu, it had—trapped her body, in a hidden mechanism under the control unit. It’s like the pods in the Shrine of Resurrection, that Purah had shown them all but been unwilling to test, just yet, except that it leaves her mind aware.

Are the others in the same situation? It seems likely—Waterblight was far cleverer than the tales of the Calamity’s mindlessness would suggest. It stands to reason that Ganon would attack all four Champions in the same sort of way.

And what of—Zelda and Elsa? Anna, and Link? What had become of them? It’s been so long she barely dares hope. The Champions, yes, they would have been in their Divine Beasts just as she was. Would have been needed to keep theirs online, as she was. She thinks—thinks, but has never been certain—that Ruta has been kept mostly calm most of this time because the Calamity was distracted, bound to the castle. That Zelda must have unlocked her powers to some degree. She has no such assurances to give herself about the others. Barely dares to allow herself to remember the way her friends had smiled, the confession she had meant to give Link, when everything was over, when there was time and it wouldn’t feel selfish of her to pull him from his duty to Princess Zelda.

But their fight isn’t over yet. Hasn’t been lost, yet, not entirely.

And so she waits, clinging to the faith that even Waterblight has been unable to steal from her entirely.

To the dream, that by some miracle, Link will come for her. That she will see everyone again, alive and well, someday. Before it’s too late.   

Chapter Text

His path decided, he needs to plan his approach carefully. He knows the basics; Lars’ home was broken into. A book, stolen. He had chased down the thief—a Yiga—and retrieved it. Curious as to why they would steal a history of the time period a century ago, he had flipped through it himself, seen the illustration, recognized her. Recognized Link from another illustration, that he finds while coming up with his story. Wants to help.

But he can’t rely on dumb luck to reunite them; he has to seek her out. It will make him seem all the more sincere.

This is where things get a bit more difficult. She and Link have a head start, could be anywhere in Hyrule by now. He supposes he could don his uniform, pose as one of the twins, see what their contact in Kakariko has to say about the heroes and their destination, but if the twins find out he’s done that, they’ll be even more likely to lash out against him than they usually are. If he goes to his brothers and explains his plan, to play the heroes for information, they’ll only laugh at him. Deny his request. Tell him to run along and leave hunting the heroes to people who are suited for it. Besides, asking the twins for help is the last thing he will ever do. He has more pride than that.

Which leaves… Thinking it over. Being clever. Puzzling it out.

If I were a hero who had been healing for the past 100 years, and needed to save Hyrule, what would I do?

Free the Divine Beasts, of course. They’re much bigger threats, currently, than the Calamity itself is.

And to which Divine Beast would I go first?

Not Rudania; Death Mountain is a death trap without proper preparation. Not Naboris; the desert is nearly as unforgiving as the mountain, in some ways.

Medoh, or Ruta?

Ruta is the closer, and the one currently posing greater threat, with the downpour it’s causing.

Ruta it is.

***

Anna stares up at the tower.

“Okay. I get that being up high is probably better for however it makes the map,” she says, as she uses her shield to block an arrow fired by a lizalfos, “But. The shrines have elevators. Couldn’t the ancient Sheikah have done the same thing for the towers instead of making us climb for the guidance stone? Wouldn’t that have been better?”

Link grunts as he grabs the arrow off her shield and fires it right back at the monster, a lucky strike hitting it in the horn and stopping it in its tracks, allowing him to fire another in quick succession that downs it entirely.

“You haven’t been inside the shrines,” he says, “There’s—definitely something wrong about space inside of them. There are way bigger questions than why didn’t they put elevators in the towers.”

“Well that’s another thing I don’t get! How do the shrines know that you’re the right person to enter? What if—it was meant to be you all along, but Uncle Rhoam chose someone else to be the Hylian Champion and that guy was the one who got put in the shrine and woke up now? He’d be out of luck, right?”

Link laughs. Good. He’s been way too in his head since they left the east gate of Mount Lanayru.

“Can’t exactly ask the monks,” he shrugs, “They all give the same speech and then disintegrate. Creepy, really. You coming up or staying on the ground this time?”

Ooh. Tough one. Climbing is not her strong suit. But… Well, she has a feeling it’s going to be a necessary skill at some point on their trek, so. Might as well practice on a tower, with lots of nice hand-holds and foot-holds and platforms to take breaks on.

“Coming up,” she declares.

***

He knows he’s on the right track when he arrives at Riverside stable and sees Kjekk among the horses there. If he was lucky, Anna and Link would be at the stable as well, but of course they aren’t. It doesn’t take much work for him to convince Gotter to tell him what direction they’d gone in, and how long ago; although the man’s main focus is, as it always has been, food, his appreciation for aesthetics would make both Anna and Link stand out in his memory.

Hans is only about two days behind. Boarding Sitron will make the trek longer, but presumably the pair of them have already made the roads somewhat safer, and if he uses his sigils to travel longer distances than he could by himself, they won’t find his catching up so suspicious because of the lack of monsters to impede his progress. Of course, he also can’t use them too indiscriminately, as he doesn’t want to overtake Anna and Link, and he doesn’t want to be spotted by any others in the area—particularly any of the Zora, who would be immediately suspicious. They rarely travel as far south as the ruins of Goponga, where, if he recalls correctly, a Guardian, a Hinox, and at least two Electric Wizzrobes have moved in, all making it a needless danger for the people of the Domain, so from there he will absolutely have to go on foot, without any of the Clan’s tricks to aid him.

He left most of his weapons with Lars. His sickle and bow are too distinctively of the Clan, would raise suspicion. Of his knives, he kept only two, the ones more suited for hunting than for combat. Other than those, he keeps only a broadsword, won off one of the bokoblins during the blood moon. He feels less equipped than he would like, but to keep his guise as a simple traveler intact, less is better.

He watches, almost fascinated, as the lights on the tower past Goponga turn from orange to blue.

There you are, he thinks, a little more relieved than he’d like to admit. Knowing their identities had made it obvious, in hindsight, that the Sheikah device on Link’s hip had something to do with the way the lights on the shrine near Dueling Peaks had changed, that first night he met them. That it’s as connected to the towers as to the shrines is the logical conclusion.

Stay safe, until I get there, please, a smaller voice inside of him murmurs.

He pretends, to himself, that it’s only about the plan.

***

A second Zora, atop the tower, reiterates the first one’s plea to speak to Prince Sidon at Inogo Bridge. Anna assures him that they’re headed there as quickly as they possible can, and then they glide down to a shrine—where a third Zora makes them make the same assurances. She sits with that Zora while Link completes the shrine, learns that she’s a guard named Torfeau and that the Domain is in danger of flooding because of the very Divine Beast that she and Link have come to quell. That Prince Sidon is looking for Hylians to help because of the Zora weakness to electricity and the necessity of using shock arrows against Vah Ruta.

Torfeau is good company. Doesn’t even ask what the slate is or how Link used it to get into the shrine. All she cares about is that they’re Hylians and warriors and might be able to help save her people.

She also understands when they set up camp under the shrine’s shelter again, rather than head to the Prince immediately and traveling through the night, praises them for knowing their limits and not pushing themselves to travel exhausted.

In the morning, when they reach the bridge, Prince Sidon leaps in from one of the decorative pillars, begging a moment to talk.

“I am Sidon, the Zora prince,” he says. His teeth actually sparkle when he introduces himself, she notices, blinking at the oddity, “What are your names? Go on!”

“Uh—I’m Anna,” she says, “and he’s Link. My brother.”

“Link?” Sidon says, “And Anna? What fantastic names! Although… Something about them… Seems familiar… Like I have heard them somewhere before… Ah, well, I’m sure it’s not important! What is important is that I have seen—the way you carry yourselves—you are strong warriors, among the Hylians, are you not?”

“I suppose?” she offers. They haven’t seen many other Hylian warriors since they’ve been awake, so it’s not as though they have a comparison in the current era. But they’re at least aware that 100 years ago, Link was considered one of the best, enough to be named Champion, so they have that.

Sidon goes on to explain the same things Torfeau had—about the rains from Vah Ruta threatening the Domain. About the need for Hylian warriors to help.

And then he directs them up a long, winding path where he claims monsters that favor attacking with electricity have infested it, saying that it’s the only way for Hylians to get to the Domain, before he swims off.

Anna thinks they could probably use the cryonis rune to go by water. But would it be faster than a well-marked path? That seems less likely. Wary of the electric attacks that Sidon had warned them of, they trade the weapons they’ve been using for some of the wooden things they have stored in the slate, instead.

And then they start on their way.

***

The wizzrobes are out of Goponga, at least until the next blood moon. He doesn’t dare tread near where the Guardian roams, but since the tower is still beyond the ruins, he knows it didn’t harm them.

The Hinox is still sleeping, as usual. From the stories that the Clan has passed down about the heroes, he would have thought they would go out of their way to take it down—perhaps they know the futility, given the blood moon, if someone explained that to them? Or perhaps it’s just far enough from people that they hadn’t felt a need. Either way, they must have passed it, because the lizalfos stronghold on the water just past the ruins is still full of its usual residents.

“Oh, hi!” calls a voice from the water as he crosses out of the small island chain, “Wow! Another Hylian! We don’t normally get so many travelers!”

A red-scaled Zora woman is smiling up at him, much farther afield from the Domain than he would have expected her.

He puts on his own most charming smile.

“I’m actually looking for some friends of mine—maybe you’ve seen them? A brother and sister. Blue eyes, both of them. He’s blond, her hair’s—not quite as red as mine. More of a copper.”

“Ooooh, yes, I saw them! Two days ago. They promised they’d go talk to Prince Sidon. We need help with Vah Ruta, you see, so we’ve been looking for Hylians. They’re probably on their way to the Domain, by now. It’s too bad you can’t swim like we can—you’d be able to get there quickly and surprise them!”

“Knowing that I’m on the right track is more than enough for me, thank you,” he tells the Zora. It’s not a lie, although he had already been quite sure of their destination. The extra confirmation is only helpful. From here, the Domain is, at a minimum, two days out. Possibly longer, depending on how safely they play it about traveling at night. He has less reason to be wary of night travel, and can easily make up ground by getting a bit less sleep.

They’ll have whatever preparations they need to make, before they go after the Divine Beast, and of course their battle with Vah Ruta; it will be more than one day, in the Domain itself, for them. He’ll get there during their stay, no matter what.

***

Ow. Anna is still wincing at the ache that lingers from having been a bit too close to where a shock arrow landed during their run-in with a whole group of lizalfos that used nothing but the horrible arrows, when they reach what their map has marked as Oren Bridge.

The halfway point of their trek from Inogo Bridge to the Domain. They stop for the night at the campfire left by another lizalfos, taking the fish it had been grilling for their dinner.

Halfway. One more day of travel and they’ll be there. Sidon has checked on their progress a few times, when they’ve been near the river. Been cheerful and encouraging about it.

Something about him seems familiar. She wonders if it’s just that he’s related to Mipha, somehow, and the fact that she has that one memory of the Zora Princess, or if it’s something else—maybe related to why he said their names were familiar in a way he couldn’t place.

There seem to be fewer enemies, on the second leg of the trip. A handful of scattered moblins, one of the things like was in Goponga that hurls electricity from a wand. A few lizalfos, but not a huge group with nothing but shock arrows again.

Dusk is falling as they cross the bridge into the city. The architecture, lit somehow, almost as from within, is stunning, compared to the simplicity of Kakariko and Hateno—sweeping, swirling, elegant. Like water, transformed into buildings, almost. The city is tiered, and they’ve entered on the lowest level. In front of them is a plaza, with—

A statue of Mipha. Anna’s heart aches at the memorial to her friend, even though her memories are still mostly lost to her. She’d known Mipha. Wanted to see her friend happy with Link. And now… It would take a miracle to see that happen. So she can still mourn, even without every other piece of context.

Although Sidon wants them to see the king as immediately as possible, it’s late enough that he admits it would be better if they waited until morning, and directs them towards the local inn, instead. On the way there, they spot a shrine; Anna explores the nearby general store, Marot Mart, while Link goes to complete the puzzle. She purchases a few ice arrows, mostly to be polite; they need fire arrows more, really.

As they reach the inn, another Zora is standing outside, waving for people to come in.

“Hello!” she calls as she sees them, “Welcome to the Seabed Inn! Here we—”

She stops, suddenly. Stares at them.

“—could it be?” she says, much quieter, “Linny? Anna? It is! Linny! Anna! Oh, my goodness!” she grabs one of them in each arm, pulls them into a hug, “I was so sure that you two—that you fell in the Calamity, like Mipha! Where have you been? What have you been doing? Oh, you have to tell me everything! Come on, both of you, I still have your favorite teas in my cupboard, we’ll sit and talk—I know you preferred hot chocolate, Anna, but… Well, chocolate’s a luxury we just can’t keep around, these days, so I’m afraid you’re just going to have to settle for Fleet-Lotus and Saffina.”

“Um—I’m sorry, but—we, uh. We don’t really have—most of our memories? Who are you?” Anna asks, hoping she sounds polite enough about it.

The Zora woman pulls back from the hug, looking hurt.

“It’s me, Kodah!” she seems to be trying to keep a cheerful tone, at least, “I met Linny ages and ages ago, he was—such a tiny little thing when his family moved to the Domain… I think everyone said he was four? But you Hylians mature so differently than we Zora do, so he grew up much faster than I would have expected if I hadn’t seen it myself. Anyway, he lived here until he was almost twelve and then his family moved to Akkala, and when he came back, a few years later, to visit, that’s when he introduced all of us to you, Lady Anna. Gaddison was so silly, she thought the two of you were betrothed, but when she asked, you both laughed so hard, said you couldn’t even imagine what a terrible idea that would be. Mipha was relieved, of course,” Kodah winks at Anna, and she knows, just from that one little thing, that she and Kodah used to commiserate about how absolutely oblivious Link and Mipha were to each other’s feelings, “Although I wouldn’t have put it past King Rhoam to try and force you two to get married anyway, if he thought it would help the royal family’s public image, somehow.”

“Can you tell us about Mipha?” Link asks. There’s something so sad in his voice, and Anna wonders what he already remembers. She knows he remembered that last day, just like she did, but what thoughts and memories of his feelings for Mipha did he gain?

Kodah smiles, but it’s not a happy smile.

“Over tea,” she insists, before leading them inside, through the lobby of the inn and through a door marked staff only into a sitting room. She directs them into plush chairs, then busies herself in the tiny kitchen visible through an open archway.

When she brings the kettle and cups, Kodah looks, gently, at Link.

“What do you remember about Mipha, Linny?” she asks.

“I remember—she was my best friend. She wrote me a letter for my birthday, the first year I was away from the Domain. She was a princess, and a healer, and her weapon was a spear.”

“Mmhmm,” Kodah agrees, “Prince Sidon is her baby brother—you knew him, when he was a little guppy who hadn’t grown into his tail, yet, but he was so little I don’t think he’d recognize you now.” Which explains Sidon’s comment—that their names sound familiar. “Before you moved away, you and Mipha were absolutely inseparable. You were friends with all of us, and I think the Brigade would have liked to claim you were closest to them, but… It was always Mipha. Of course, everyone loved Mipha, so that’s hardly a surprise. She was… Sweet. Gentle. She had a magical talent for healing, of course, and we were all so proud when she was selected as the Zora Champion, to pilot Vah Ruta. Some of the elders—they blame you for that, you know. Try and say that if it wasn’t for how close the two of you were, she never would have accepted the position as Champion. Never would have been lost to us. But she would have. She saw it as her duty, to both us, the Zora, her own people, and to all of Hyrule. Even if… Oh, I’m so embarrassed about it now, but once… I asked you to choose between us, you know. Me or Mipha. You chose her, obviously, but even if you had chosen me, she would have become the Champion. Don’t get me wrong! I’m glad, now, that you chose her! I never would have even thought about Kayden if you hadn’t and he and I are so happy together. I’m just—making a point. That I know. We didn’t lose her because of you. We lost her because that’s who she was.”

Anna takes a sip of her tea; the warm taste immediately gives her a rush of—not memory, not exactly, but feeling. Like cold nights curled in front of a fireplace, reading a book. Comfortable.

“We were—healing, all this time,” she explains to Kodah, “Purah—of the Sheikah—put us into a Shrine that could heal our wounds. When we woke up, we didn’t have any memories at all.”

“That must have been frightening,” Kodah says with a frown, “but I’m glad—that you’re both well. Now, I’m sure you came to the Domain for a reason, but you’ll stay here tonight, won’t you?”

“Absolutely, that was our plan anyway. Sidon—wants us to see the King, in the morning.”

***

The path is littered with discarded equipment from monsters that Anna and Link must have slain on their own way through. Weighing his options—stick with what he has, or pick up a little more to work with—Hans scoops up one of the fallen bows. He’ll buy arrows in the Domain, if he doesn’t find any on the way. Those, however, it seems as though the heroes were meticulous about collecting, because he’s seen none, so far.

While up in the hills, away from the rivers and any Zora who might see, he risks a few short jumps, to close the gap. In all likelihood, they’re in the Domain proper, by now. Mid-day, tomorrow, seems like a good time to catch up.

***

The throne room is the top level of the city. When they enter, unimpeded by the guards, there are three inhabitants: Sidon, an older Zora with green scales, and a massive, crowned Zora upon the throne, who must be the king.

“You would be the Hylians that Sidon brought, would you not?” the king asks, as soon as he sees them, “I’m impressed that you made it all the way here. I am King Dorephan, ruler of these waters—”

He peers a bit more closely at Link.

“That object, upon your waist— Is that— a Sheikah Slate?”

The king studies both of them, intensely, not waiting for an answer before—

“It is all too clear, who you are. The Hylian Champion, Link. The Warrior-Lady of Arendelle, Anna. I welcome you both to my Domain, after your long absence.”

“Father!” Sidon sounds surprised, “You can’t mean— the Hylian Champion, and the Lady of Arendelle! Can you?” he looks at them, “It would explain… the familiarity of your names! But what fateful coincidence it is that we should cross paths, when the Domain is most in need of heroes!”

“It is hard to believe,” says the king, “But I recall you both, so clearly. We have met many a time. Both of you were dear friends to my Mipha, and so I have an abundance of memories, of you. It was said that you both fell in combat, but I am glad to see such is not the case.”

“We did fall in combat, actually?” Anna tries, “We, um. Well, I explained this to Kodah last night but we were put into something called the Shrine of Resurrection, to heal us, and we woke up not long ago without any of our memories. They’re coming back! Slowly. But. Yeah. That’s. That’s what happened.”

“Lost memories? No—surely you remember Mipha, at least!”

“A little,” Link tells the king, “I know—how important she was. To me.” Anna reaches over, squeezes Link’s shoulder. It’s not the same as what he’d told Kodah, yesterday, but—she understands.

“Perhaps more will come back to you,” the king says, gently, before he then tells them—just as Torfeau and Sidon had—about how the Domain needs their help. Against Vah Ruta.

The older Zora—Muzu, according to the king—protests. Yells about not wanting help from Hylians. Dorephan and Sidon both scold him for his outburst, say that it’s the only possible way.

And Muzu continues to protest. Says, just like Kodah told them the elders do, that it’s because of Hylians that Mipha was lost.

“Hey,” Anna says, “I barely remember Mipha. But I know she was my friend. And I know—that by saying things like that, you’re disrespecting her. Yes, what happened 100 years ago was a tragedy! But Mipha chose to help. To do what she could. By blaming us for her death, you’re taking that dignity away from her! Is that really what you want to do?”

“Well said, Lady Anna,” Dorephan says, smiling at her.

In the distance, a massive sound bellows.

“Ah— Ruta cries out yet again,” Dorephan sighs, and then he explains the plan. Getting close enough to fire shock arrows at the orbs on Ruta’s shoulders—shock arrows that the Zora themselves can barely touch. The reason they need Hylian help.

So they explain. That Zelda, through Impa, had sent them to quell the Divine Beasts, free them of Ganon’s control.

Working together, they can achieve both ends.

And then the king presents armor to Link. Just the chest-piece. Blue, with silver braces at the arms, shoulders, and hips. He explains that it will allow Link to ascend waterfalls, as Zora can.

“That particular piece is—special,” he says, “but the technique for allowing Hylians such an ability is not unknown to our smiths. The reservoir grows dangerously full, but, Lady Anna, if you’ll allow them your measurements, I believe we can have a similar piece crafted for you within a day or two.”

“I must protest!” Muzu yells, again, “Not that piece, my king! The armor that Princess Mipha made, with her own hands, for the one she intended to marry! How could you give such an important armor—to him! They had no such relationship! I will not stand for this!”

Muzu storms out.

Anna’s mind is whirring. She had known Mipha had feelings for Link. Known it. And Mipha—had made armor. Declaring her intent to marry. Armor not suited for a fellow Zora, but for a Hylian.

Armor for Link. That armor has to have been intended for Link all along.

She stares at King Dorephan. Sees it in his eyes. He knows it was always Link’s armor, too.

Sidon rushes off after Muzu, saying he’ll talk to him. Does he know? Anna had been certain that Link and Mipha were oblivious to each other’s feelings, but intent to marry is a big thing, right?

Link’s fingers run along the armor.

“I wonder who it was for,” he murmurs. Oh. Oh, Link.

“Why don’t you—try it on?” Anna suggests. He frowns at her, but shrugs, swapping it for his tunic right there in the throne room.

It fits perfectly, of course. Mipha would have been absolutely painstaking in her attention to detail. Anna exchanges a glance with the king, the shared knowledge passing between them. Mipha had loved Link. Had wanted to marry Link. Even—without assurances, maybe, that his heart was hers? Anna can almost, almost see it, now—she would have been planning a confession, for after they won.

Only they hadn’t won.

“I believe… The two of you should talk to Muzu, with Sidon,” the king says, carefully, “He’ll likely be in the square. By the memorial.”

Anna loops her arm with Link’s, as they walk. He doesn’t—how can he not see, what she does? That it’s his armor? Then, he’d always been oblivious. She’d known that in the memory of that last day. She’d known that talking to Kodah last night.

Muzu and Sidon are arguing, when they arrive.

And Sidon spells it out for Muzu. That it was Link who Mipha’s feelings were for. That he didn’t know, at the time, because he was so young, but he knows now. That his father had told stories, about Mipha’s love for Link.

And even as Muzu tries to deny it, Anna sees Link stare up at the statue, sees his eyes go blank like he’s remembering something as he sways on his feet, and she does her best to support him.

“Link? Are you unwell?” Sidon asks.

“He’s quivering like a hatchling,” Muzu notes, almost actually sounding concerned, despite his professed hatred of Hylians.

“I think he’s remembering something,” Anna tells them.

“Mipha…” he breathes, slumping into her side as he comes out of the memory, “I—she tried to tell me… That after everything with the Calamity… She wanted…”

Anna hugs him tighter. She hadn’t expected that, but it makes so much sense. Of course Mipha was trying to wait until the world wasn’t ending. Until there was time.

Muzu still tries to protest. To say that it’s too conveniently timed.

And then Sidon delivers the final blow. The fact that the armor fits Link like a glove.

So Muzu tells them. That to get the shock arrows they’re going to need, they’ll have to go to Ploymus Mountain and take them from the Lynel that makes its home there.

“The fastest way to get up there—the only way, since we had the footpath blocked when the Lynel moved in—is to ascend the waterfall. So it will have to wait until your armor is crafted, Lady Anna, since no one should face such a beast alone,” Sidon tells them, “our master smith, Dento, has a workshop in the back room of Marot Mart. Once he has your measurements, please, enjoy the city for the day.”

***

He walks into the Zora’s Domain general store, Marot Mart, intent to purchase arrows, just as he planned, and has to quickly refocus himself on his plan because Anna is there. Talking to the shopkeeper.

“Anna!” he calls, and she turns to see him and—

That smile, he thinks again, cursing his traitorous mind, that’s what I want. To see that smile, all the time. But it can’t be. He can’t let it.

“Hans? What are you doing here?” she asks, closing the gap between them, coming into his space.

“I was— Well, I came to the store looking for arrows, but… I came to the Domain looking for you,” he says. All of it technically true.

“How did—how could you possibly have known we were coming here?” she asks. Somehow, she doesn’t seem suspicious. Just surprised. He looks at her, meets her eyes, musters as much sincerity as he can.

“I need to—can we talk? Somewhere private?” he murmurs, low, like he hopes that no one else in the store will hear. She searches his gaze and must find whatever it is she’s looking for, because she nods and takes his hand, waving goodbye to the Zora behind the counter. She takes him to the local inn.

“Kodah, can we borrow your sitting room?” she asks the Zora at the entrance.

“Of course, Anna!” the Zora, Kodah, says, and then eyes him up and down, “But I want details, later!” she adds. Anna blushes almost as intensely as she had when she told him that Sitron was almost as handsome as him, and he finds himself more than a little nervous at the tone in Kodah’s voice. But Anna’s still pulling him along, through a door off the main lobby.

“I was so worried about you after the blood moon,” she says, once they’re alone, “I’m glad—I’m really glad you’re all right.” Something inside his chest warms at her concern, but he shuts it down. He’s here for a reason. He can’t get more attached than he already is. He can’t.

“Anna,” he starts, and then he pauses. Brings the book from Lars out of his bag, “I know who you are. I know— who Link is,” he opens the book, shows her the illustration of herself, “You’re—going to save Hyrule, right? I want to help.”

Chapter Text

He hadn’t noticed it when they’d arrived, but every inch of the Domain sparks a memory.

Splashing in the waters with Zora in every color of the rainbow.

Teaching Aryll to swim.

Being absolutely baffled when Kodah pulled him away from all their friends and asked him to choose, the first hint he’d even had that anyone saw him as more than a friend; he hadn’t even considered that Mipha might choose him back, but had known it wouldn’t be fair to Kodah to tell her anything but the truth.

Sidon, no taller than his knees, following Mipha around like a little duckling.

Mipha, healing his every cut and scrape and bruise, lecturing him about infection risks if he tried to protest her wasting her power on him.

Anna, visiting for the first time and fitting in with his other friends effortlessly.

Mipha, telling off the elders for saying that the Zora ought not appoint a Champion, that the fight was of the Hylians.

His mother, browsing through the wares at the store and smiling triumphantly when she found truffles for her planned dinner.

Mipha, hearing Gaddison ask Anna if there was anything more than friendship between them—if they were betrothed, as Kodah put it—and tensing like she was afraid of the answer.

Mipha, telling him that she would always protect him, even though, as a knight, protection was his job.

It would be overwhelming enough if he hadn’t been told that the armor King Dorephan gave him was meant to signify that—that Mipha wanted to marry him. But not only is he remembering so much, he’s overanalyzing every single memory. Every moment where he found himself thinking she would never notice me like that—and there are quite a few, coming back to him—and wondering what might have been different if he had only realized.

And then thinking about the fact that everything still would have ended up the same: Mipha, lost in Vah Ruta. Him and Anna, having been asleep for 100 years, trying to fix everything now that they’re healed and awake. He’d still have forgotten, although he’d be gaining back different memories now. Happier memories, maybe.

But knowing it would have ended the same doesn’t help. Doesn’t make these new regrets any easier to bear.

“Well there’s a sight I thought we’d never see,” comes a familiar voice, as he paces the east bridge of the Domain, trying to clear his head, and he turns to see—Gaddison, his memories whisper at him. Older, taller, but unmistakably her, grey scales gleaming in the light of the luminous stone the Domain is carved from, “King Dorephan gave you the armor, huh? We found it—me and Kodah, I mean—after… Well, when things calmed down a bit after the Calamity. The King had us go through Mipha’s room to try and find some jewelry to send downriver, since we didn’t have the Lightscale Trident—we think it’s still inside Vah Ruta, somewhere—and… Well, some of the elders didn’t really understand the armor’s exact significance, but we did. The King did. Kodah told me this morning that you and Anna showed up last night, that you said you’d been healing all this time and barely have any memories. I don’t think I would have believed her, except… Well, I couldn’t see her making something like that up. She’s not that cruel, no matter how much she likes gossip.”

He doesn’t really know what compels him when he looks at his old friend and asks—

“Was I blind?”

“I hate to tell you this, Link, but both of you were absolutely infuriatingly blind. Mipha was apparently planning on doing something about it, but I can’t count the amount of times she came to me absolutely certain that you would never feel the same way, because, well, you were a Hylian, she was a Zora, the… Standards of attractiveness are so different between the species, and you were so constantly thrown together with Princess Zelda, who was of course lovely by Hylian standards and intelligent, and, you know, history’s full of legends of the Chosen Hero falling for his Princess, whether or not anything comes of that love…and no matter how many times I told her I’d seen you mooning after her, she always laughed it off as though I must be mistaken. I’m also fairly certain Kodah and Anna were planning on some sort of intervention for after the battle was won, because they always had to listen to your half of the there’s no way I’m worthy moping.”

“Anna and I are going to stop Vah Ruta.” He’s changing the subject, he knows that even as he leans against one of the railings on the bridge, stares out at the water. Gaddison doesn’t seem to mind, settling in next to him.

“Good,” she says, “When she bellows—I always think it sounds like she’s in pain. Mipha would have hated that fate, for her. And Mipha… She did so much, for all of us. Helping Ruta, for her… That feels fitting.”

It helps. Maybe not so much as he would have hoped—he still feels like there’s a hole in his chest that will never be mended—but it does help. He looks back towards the Domain, and sees the statue of Mipha, and he makes a vow, to himself, and to her.

He’ll find her trident, while he’s in Ruta. He’ll bring it home, for the others who love her.

And then, eyes still on the Domain, he sees Anna, rushing towards him from the direction of the inn, even though she’d expressed an interest in watching the smith work on her armor, if she was allowed to.

When she makes it to where he and Gaddison are, he’s already concerned. She’s shaking, so badly that it takes him a minute to realize she’s using sign, which she’s so much less inclined to do than he is when they’re not outright in battle.

He’s here, he makes out, H-A-N-S. They probably should come up with a sign name, for him, if they’re going to keep encountering him, Link thinks, but focuses on Anna’s hands. He knows. He found out. He has a book. History. It has. Pictures. Us. He knows. He said he. Wants to help.

“Anna?” Gaddison looks at her with concern. Zora sign is different from Hylian, he remembers, vaguely, because of the differences in the structure of their hands. Gaddison can probably recognize enough to know what Anna’s doing, but not quite what she’s saying.

Wants to help is good, Link tries, why are you upset? He’d have thought, actually, that she would like not having to skirt around the truth with Hans anymore.

For a moment she stares at her own hands, like she can’t quite remember the exact shape of the words she wants but doesn’t dare say it out loud.

Book from his brother, she manages, a little bit fractured, was stolen. He got it back from thief. Y-I-G-A. If he knows, they know. What we look like.

Oh. That is bad. He can particularly see why it would worry Anna; her friend not only finding out their identities, but having tangled with a Yiga? His immediate reaction being to find them and volunteer to help, when that will put a target on his back, if their enemies know what they look like, now?

She was already worried about him before. This will only make that worse.

Not if he got it back before they looked at it, the assurance feels a bit hollow, even to him—dangerous as Impa suggested the Yiga are, surely their entire plan to learn about them didn’t hinge on that one stolen book—but under the circumstances, what better can he do? If we let him help us, we know where he is. No need to worry about if he’s safe.

Anna closes her eyes, takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Are you sure?” she says, finding her voice, “That we wouldn’t just be—putting him in more danger?”

“Maybe,” Link acknowledges, “But—it was never just us, before. We always had help. The Champions. Zelda and Elsa. Impa and Purah. What’s-his-name, with the reindeer,” he doesn’t actually really remember but it’s the only thing that makes sense, based on what he does know, “so—if he understands the danger, and still wants to help? Why shouldn’t we let him? And if he got that book you were talking about back from a Yiga thief, he should be able to hold his own. Where is he, anyway?”

“I—may have panicked and left him in Kodah’s sitting room after telling him I needed to talk to you before I could give him an answer.”

***

Aryll’s eyes flutter open as she hits a wrong note on the Ocarina. She looks up at the Great Deku Tree, frowning. Epona shifts, restlessly, under her.

“Did I do it wrong?”

“You did not,” the Great Deku Tree replies, warmth in his tone that feels almost as good as hugs from Granny, “You have traveled 100 years into the future, from when you started. My koroks—several of them have come back from playing in the world outside our forest, reporting that your brother and Lady Anna have awoken from their healing slumber. All that remains is for you to find them. The world is much changed from what you knew. The wilds far more dangerous. Be careful, little one.”

***

Link listens to the story that Hans must already have told Anna as he prepares dinner—rice balls stuffed with truffle and bass, just like he now recalls his mother making more than once—making enough to share not just with the traveler, but also Kodah and Kayden and their daughter, Finley, who’s been grumbling about not being allowed to leave the Domain to send a letter to her pen pal.

In another life, if things had gone right—he’d be gone, by now, probably. He can admit that. Hylians don’t have the lifespan that Zora do, almost everyone in the Domain he ran into while he was thinking who recognized him had mentioned it. But would he and Mipha have been honorary family, to their friends’ children, the uncle and aunt that allowed them to get away with things? Would he have been offering to help Finley sneak away and send her letter anyway?

He thinks he would have. But in this life, he’s just the stranger that Finley eyes warily even as her parents tell her that he’s been their friend for over a century.

He tries not to concentrate on that. There are bigger things to worry about. Fate of the world, and all.

“The reservoir is going to flood sooner than later,” he tells Hans, when the man’s story is through, “As soon as we pick up Anna’s new armor, in the morning, we’re going up Ploymus to steal shock arrows from the Lynel that lives there. I don’t think we have time to wait for Master Dento to make you armor, too, and swimming the waterfall is the only way to get up. So you can’t help with that. But. Talk to Prince Sidon about coming along to Ruta, with us. Wait for us with him. Mipha was alone when she went in there, before. Whatever might still be haunting it that got her, the more of us there are, the less prepared it will be for the fight.”

“Stealing shock arrows from a Lynel?” Hans repeats, going pale, staring at Anna with wide, frightened eyes. For a moment, that memory of being scolded about the Hinox comes back to him, and he braces for a similar tone of condescension, but it doesn’t come, only pure concern, “Are you sure there’s no better way?”

“Pretty sure, unfortunately,” Anna tells him, “Cleff at Marot Mart was telling me about Lynels because, you know, memory loss and all, and. I think if we’re sneaky enough we can just get in and get the arrows and get out. But if we have to engage, I have a plan,” she looks over at Link, “Pincer. Lynels are smart but that doesn’t mean it can target both of us at once if we’re far enough apart. Whoever it’s after plays defense, the other goes offense, and if it switches targets we switch roles. We stay close enough that it won’t bother with the arrows, but far enough away to actually dodge.”

Kayden takes the opportunity to ask about the memory loss, and Anna explains as best she can, and Link distributes the food and watches Hans watch Anna. His story makes sense—even how he’d guessed they’d head for the Divine Beasts. The way he looks at Anna is the same as it has been, the entire time, like she’s something absolutely precious that he can barely keep his eyes off. Link likes him, for her, that hasn’t changed in the last few days, why would it?

But something feels different about this encounter with him, something he can’t quite put a finger on. Hopefully, it’s just the mood that the Domain has gotten Link into. The memories of his own doomed feelings for Mipha.

Hopefully, Link will be able to make sure that those two get a better outcome.

***

Kodah hasn’t been in this part of the Domain in a long time. But while her guests are sleeping, preparing for their raid on Ploymus in the morning, she has Sidon lead her into Mipha’s old chambers.

They’d only ever found the chest-piece, for Linny’s armor, the last time, when she and Gaddison were in here. She knows that Mipha would have made the greaves, too, and she knows that—in the jewelry box, there’s a pair of amber earrings that Mipha must have intended for one of their Hylian friends. Gaddison had wanted to add them to the jewelry to send downriver in place of the missing Lightscale, as a sneaky way to memorialize Linny and Anna too, but they’d decided the elders might notice and hidden them with the rest of Mipha’s things instead. Kodah figures that giving those to them now might at least help them against the Lynel, if they have to fight it. That Mipha would want for them to be as prepared as possible.

But they’re easy to find. It’s the greaves that are going to present a challenge.

***

Master Dento presents Anna with a purple set of armor and greaves, somewhat less elaborate than what he’s been given, but still very clearly functional. Sidon, Hans, Torfeau, and Bazz escort them to the first waterfall they have to ascend on their way to Ploymus to collect the shock arrows; the four of them will be waiting at the East Reservoir to figure out the plan from there, once they have them.

“Race you,” Anna says with a smile, before she dives into the water and starts to soar. Link’s only a second behind, letting the magic in the armor guide his movements.

There’s something freeing about ascending the falls, going against the current, and despite the danger they’re going into, he finds himself laughing as he crests the top of the first flow and starts to angle his paraglider to end up at the base of the next. Anna, with her brief head start, is already there.

Atop the second waterfall, they both grow serious and silent again. He can’t really remember Lynels, but Anna had told him everything Cleff had told her. Hans had confirmed most of it while expressing worry that it would be just the two of them fighting it—but he can’t climb waterfalls and the Zora are too weak to shock arrows. Link and Anna going alone was the only real option. Already, he sees arrows stuck in the trees; Anna grabs a few as they both crouch down, hoping to keep out of sight as long as possible. Or longer.

When we get up there, he signs, split up. You go right, I go left. Hopefully we get what we need and get out.

And if we get spotted, pincer, like I said, Anna signs back. Link would argue—would say that he’d distract it while she keeps gathering arrows until they could both run—but her strategy is better, and he knows it. Her plan gives them both more of a chance of getting out alive.

Twenty arrows, he reminds, how many do we have already?

Anna checks her quiver; while their regular arrows are split between them, she’s been keeping the shock and ice arrows, while he has their handful of bomb arrows. He’d had their fire arrows, too, but they’re out of those.

Six. Not as many as he’d like them to already have—the less they have to collect from up here, the better their odds at getting out unseen—but at least it isn’t an unmanageable number.

They dash up the hill, quiet as they can, each of them darting behind a large rock, one on each side of the path. Link risks pulling out the slate and taking a picture of the beast, when he pokes his head out to see where it is, hoping the noises the slate makes won’t attract attention and knowing that if Purah knew how little they’ve been using the compendium, after she went through the trouble of fixing it, she’d yell at them.

Then he starts to creep slowly towards a tree with an arrow embedded in the trunk. Across the flat expanse, he can see Anna doing the same. The first goes well.

So does the second.

He’s at the third shock arrow in a tree trunk when the Lynel spots him and lets out a roar before beginning to charge.

He shoves the arrow into his quiver, quickly, and pulls a regular arrow out, panic and instinct somehow coming together in a perfect shot that hits the beast in its forehead; it doesn’t do much damage, but it dazes the Lynel long enough for Anna, behind it, to catch up while it’s unaware and climb onto its back, bashing the hilt of her weapon against its neck repeatedly until it manages to buck her off. She lands well, gives a fierce grin as she circles to stand directly on the opposite side of the creature from him, raising her shield.

The Lynel looks back and forth between them.

Snarls.

And decides it’s madder at Anna, lunges at her. She darts back, out of reach, and Link darts forwards, striking the Lynel in its hindquarters with his own weapon, getting in a few hits before it turns on him.

They keep up the pattern.

He goes backwards, Anna goes forwards. Anna goes backwards, he goes forwards.

If the Lynel has ever fought two people with an actual plan, before, its clearly forgotten how to deal with that in its annoyance. Not to say that the fight isn’t difficult, because it is, and sometimes the dodging backwards doesn’t go as well as they’d like. Anna’s shield shatters at one point when the Lynel’s sword clangs against it.

But keeping to the plan, without panicking, is their best chance. Link pulls another shield from the slate and sends it sliding across the grass to Anna, who grabs it and raises it just in time.

Anna goes backwards, he goes forwards. He goes backwards, Anna goes forwards.

His sword breaks, and he switches it for a silver spear that Gaddison had handed him on their way across the bridge this morning.

The Lynel tries to change its tactics, at one point, holding its weapon out and spinning, an attempt to hit them both, but Anna drops to the ground, under the weapon, and Link—he’s only trying to go backwards, just out of reach.

But something—

Happens.

Time—

Slows down.

And Link takes his spear and unleashes a flurry of blows into the creature, the final hit before time resumes its normal pace causing it, like most other monsters, to vanish into purple smoke.

Chapter Text

Battle with the Lynel over, shock arrows collected, Anna and Link head to the reservoir where everyone is waiting. The three Zora cheer when they arrive; Hans just looks relieved. It’s—nice, she thinks. To have his concern. To know he cares.

Sidon explains the defenses that Ruta has; that either she or Link will have to ascend the waterfalls near her legs to hit the orbs at their joints with the shock arrows, but that the Divine Beast conjures huge chunks of ice to attack anyone who gets close.

“If more than one person approaches, how does the ice target?” Link asks. She thinks they’ve got the same plan in mind.

“Whoever’s closest,” Bazz answers.

Link hands her the slate, and Anna pulls up the cryonis rune, handing him their shock arrows in exchange. “How’s your aim?” she asks Hans.

“Decent, why?”

“You’re spotting,” Link says, “I’ll use the shock arrows on the orbs. Anna will use the slate to break the ice projectiles. Anything she misses, you’re going to have to catch with regular arrows. We go in a tight enough formation and it shouldn’t be able to figure out who to target.”

“The elders will hate it,” Torfeau says, hands on her hips, “But we’ll focus on the swimming. You three focus on the fight.”

They pair off. Link and Sidon, Hans and Bazz, her and Torfeau. She has the slate ready in her hands. Hans holds his bow loosely, an arrow between two fingers, not quite drawn, but alert.

And they go.

***

If he thought not knowing what was going on while Anna and Link were retrieving arrows from a Lynel was harrowing, it’s nothing compared to being carried around the reservoir on the back of the Zora guard-captain while giant hunks of ice get hurled at them by an ancient machine, watching as Anna uses the Sheikah device usually at Link’s hip—the slate, they called it—to shatter the ice before it can ram into them, and occasionally sending an arrow into one that strays out of her line of sight. Watching as Link repeatedly hurtles himself into the air in an attempt to disable the very defenses that they’re being attacked by.

Somehow, eventually, it works. All four orbs hit, the Divine Beast quiets, stops sending ice after them, lowers a platform. The three of them scramble on, but before their Zora allies can join them, the Divine Beast raises higher in the water again.

“We’ll see you back at Zora’s Domain!” Sidon calls.

Anna touches the slate to a pedestal in front of them, and he watches as the whole thing lights up, as does a circular area of the floor, while a mechanical voice says [Travel Gate Activated].

And then another voice, far less mechanical, but with no obvious source, speaks.

“You’re here,” it says, softly.

“Mipha?” Anna asks, stepping towards the body of the Divine Beast, “Is that—are you still here?”

Link, Hans notes, looks absolutely shattered.

“I must say…I am so happy to see this day has finally arrived,” the voice continues.

That—doesn’t strike him as right. If it was a spirit, trapped in the Beast, wouldn’t it be able to react to their questions? Answer Anna?

“Now Ruta can be freed,” the voice says, “You’ll need a map, so that you don’t get lost. The guidance stone within will give you what you need.”

“Mipha, please—!” Anna tries again.

But the voice has gone silent.

I don’t like this, he thinks. Not just that he’s about to go against everything he was raised for in order to sell his own trustworthiness, although that doesn’t help. Something about the voice—maybe it’s the Zora Champion’s spirit, trapped. Maybe. But he wonders if, instead… It is a trap.

***

“What is that?” Anna asks, seeing a mess of… Goo, for lack of a better word, at the top of the ramp leading into Ruta’s interior. There’s an eye, orange and blinking, protruding from the substance.

“Malice,” Hans answers, drawing his bow and firing at the eye, “It’s a physical manifestation of the Calamity’s evil. Everywhere the worst damage was done, 100 years ago, it lingers. Castle Town is particularly bad. This is the first you’ve seen since you’ve been awake?”

When the eye pops, the Malice evaporates, unblocking their path. Anna shudders.

“It is,” she agrees. Link hasn’t spoken or even signed since they heard Mipha’s voice, and she worries about him. Of course, she worries about how they heard Mipha, too. Is she alive, somewhere inside Ruta, able to project to them over some internal system but unable to escape? Is she a spirit, like Uncle Rhoam was?

“Well, don’t touch it,” Hans says, “It burns.”

“Good to know.”

Across the room is what looks like a little robot, of some kind; Link rushes it and takes it down in a few seconds.

Seen them in the shrines, he signs, when he notices that she and Hans are staring, used to them.

Well, it’s something, at least.

Another chunk of Malice blocks their way to the Guidance Stone that Mipha mentioned; the connected eye is underwater. Hans tries to shoot it with an arrow, like the first, but when that doesn’t work, Anna decides to try something else, switching the slate to one of the remote bomb runes and summoning one of its projectiles, tossing it into the water next to the eye before detonating it. Eye and Malice disappear a few seconds later, and she clicks back to cryonis and uses a pillar to lift the gate that the Malice had sealed shut.

“Nice and easy so far,” she smiles, connecting the slate to the pedestal for the Guidance Stone.

You’ll jinx us, signs Link.

[Divine Beast Controls Enabled] says the usual mechanical voice.

And then Mipha speaks again.

“Good! You’ve obtained the map,” she says, and… There’s something about the cadence of her words that doesn’t quite fit with Anna’s memories. But, she figures, she has so few that maybe she’s just being silly, “You will see several glowing points on your map, representing the terminals which control Ruta. Activate all of the terminals.”

“Mipha, if you can hear us, please answer,” she tries, again.

Nothing further comes.

“There’s something wrong with that voice,” Hans says, echoing her kernel of suspicion.

I don’t think it’s her, Link signs, I think it’s a trap.

“So—what do we do?” Anna asks. Link has more memories of Mipha than she does, if only a few. If he thinks it’s a trap…

Keep going. We don’t have another option. But stay alert.

The first terminal is in the first room, partially submerged. Using magnesis on the nearby gears does the trick to raise it. Anna wonders… Is that the default state? Or did Mipha, a century ago, make the terminals harder to access somehow, so the thing that attacked her inside, whatever it was that must have overwhelmed her to take enough control to force Ruta on her rampage now, couldn’t get full control over the Divine Beast?

Mipha’s voice—what sounds like Mipha’s voice, anyway—speaks again once they’ve activated the terminal. Reminds them there are four more.

The more it speaks the less she believes it’s her friend, the more she thinks that Link is right and it’s a trap. Is whatever killed Mipha trying to use them? To get control over the Divine Beast in a way it didn’t already have?

The second is on the upper floor, inside of a waterwheel. Cryonis stops the flow when the terminal is at the bottom, allowing them access. Another reminder. Three more. The voice that probably isn’t Mipha sounds impatient.

They have to use controls to move the trunk to get to the next terminal, and stasis to keep the door open long enough to get to it. These puzzles don’t seem like something Mipha would have been able to do, without the slate in the first place, so Anna decides they must be a security feature she activated at the end.

Another reminder. Two more. Still impatience. The part of her that wants to hold out hope that it is Mipha, somehow, gets smaller by the second.

They study the map, on the slate. One of the terminals appears to be on the tip of the trunk. Link takes the slate from her, goes out alone.

Another reminder. One more. There’s an undercurrent of glee in the false Mipha’s voice.

Anna and Hans make their way back down towards the Main Control Unit. Link, above, must figure out the location of the last terminal, because another reminder goes off.

“Activate the Main Control Unit,” the voice that sounds like Mipha but can’t be says.

When Link arrives, Anna has a hand on her sword. Something is going to happen when they activate that thing, she knows it. Next to her, Hans is tense. He probably feels the same way she does. Is he regretting coming along, she wonders, but doesn’t dare ask.

She can only wait and hope she’s wrong as Link pulls out the slate.

***

Link touches the slate to the Main Control Unit of the Divine Beast. If they’re all lucky, that will be that.

Hans doesn’t believe they’re going to be lucky.

Smoke that looks like Malice swirls out of the console in front of them, coalescing into the form of a petite Zora wielding a silver trident.

“You’re here,” the Malice-Zora says, same as when they first arrived.

“Mipha?” Anna exclaims, hand falling away from her weapon, “What happened?”

Sharp teeth flash in an evil grin. Hans knows in an instant that this thing isn’t Mipha, not even a shard of her spirit corrupted by Malice; it’s using her appearance and voice. How many times has he seen one of his fellow Yiga do the same thing to an unwary traveler? He can’t begin to count. The not-Mipha’s trident is aimed at Anna in a flash, and he barely has time to process what he’s doing before he’s pulled her into his arms and out of the way.

“Not your friend,” he points out, probably unnecessarily after the attack.

“Right,” she agrees, looking up at him, wide-eyed, a little breathless. If it weren’t for the immediately present danger, he thinks, this would feel quite nice.

Link, using the spear that’s been strapped to his back, jabs out at the Malice-Zora, catching it where the ribcage would be on a real one. It snarls, twisting around to aim at the bigger threat.

Hans releases Anna, who immediately pulls her sword and shield and heads for the thing’s back. All three of them fighting up close is a terrible idea, he decides, drawing his bow yet again, backing slowly away from the enemy. He only has a handful of arrows that he’d been given before their boarding attempt started, so he’ll have to make his shots count.

***

Slash, spin, dodge, slash. The Not-Mipha is focused a lot more on Link; does it know, somehow, what she vaguely remembers, that he’s a Chosen Hero? That she’s—just the backup? The support? If it does, if it’s somehow distracted by him because of it, they can make use of that.

Slash, jab, parry as the thing gets annoyed and lashes out at her. Link draws its attention again, and Hans unleashes an arrow that catches it in the shoulder, sticks into the sludge-like substance.

Duck, slash, roll out of the way. Another arrow sticks in what would be its stomach, if it were a real Zora.

Link gets in another hit; his spear shatters, Anna’s shield barely blocking the debris from hitting her.

The thing laughs. It doesn’t sound like Mipha, anymore.

And then it doesn’t look like Mipha, anymore, dissolving into blue light before reforming into—something else. A singular blue eye, in the middle of what must be its face. A wild mane of red that looks like it’s meant to be hair. Long, skeletal arms. Parts of it look like the same material as the Divine Beast itself. The trident, Mipha’s trident, clatters to the ground and is replaced by a glowing blue spear, with a much longer reach but only a single deadly point.

It hovers near the ceiling; Link pulls another spear from the slate. Anna dares darting over to him and getting the rest of the shock arrows back before she falls back to where Hans is, her own bow in hand.

And so it continues.

***

Whatever the Malice Beast is, Hans growls in annoyance as it not only shifts forms again, but changes the battlefield, somehow causing most of the floor they’ve been standing on to drop into the water around them. He keeps his own footing, barely, but Anna drops into the water with a yelp and a splash.

“I’m okay!” she calls, head breaking the surface again, and then she looks around her before swimming to the platform on the opposite side of the room from his. Link is on a third of the four small islands that remain, has traded his spear for his own bow as the thing has gotten even closer to the ceiling.

It hurls ice at them; Link uses the slate to break that, just as Anna had done while they made their boarding attempt. It hurls its spear at them; the attack is wildly telegraphed and easy to dodge. The thing is getting tired, he thinks. It teleports around the four platforms erratically; they keep up volley after volley of arrows. Anna uses shock arrows when it’s at the fourth platform, where none of them stand, but regular ones when the electricity would be a threat to more than just the monster.

After what feels like hours, Link gets in a shot that hits it directly in its single eye.

And it dissolves, entirely, for good.

The floor of the room returns to how it was. The air itself seems lighter, more breathable.

And Link, once more, places the slate on the pedestal of the Main Control Unit.

The unit, which looks like a flower, almost, turns from orange to blue, just like Hans had noticed from the shrines and towers. Link is focused on picking up the trident that the Malice had used when it took the form of the Zora Champion, so he doesn’t notice when the whole thing rises up into the air. Anna, focused on Link, doesn’t, either.

But Hans does.

And he approaches it, slowly, and sees—a chamber, under where the unit was. Rapidly draining of water. Inside—

The Zora Champion. Perfectly preserved, he thinks, at first, until he notices—

She’s breathing. Her eyelids fluttering like she’s trying to awaken.

“Anna! Link!” he calls, “I think you need to see this!”

Chapter Text

“Anna! Link! I think you need to see this!” Hans calls, and Link pauses only long enough to strap the Lightscale onto his back before he turns.

The Main Control Unit has moved. Hans is peering into a depression under where it had been, and Link makes his way over, wondering what it could be that Hans is so concerned about.

The area is deeper than it looks from a distance, more of a chamber than a depression, he realizes as he gets closer.

Still, it hardly registers, at first, what he sees.

Red and white scales. Silver jewelry, blue gems, the interlocked crescents of the Zora a prominent motif. A blue sash with designs mimicking Vah Ruta draped across her.

Mipha.

Amber-golden eyes open, meet his own.

Alive.

“Link?” her voice is weaker than the messages from the monster that had lured them in, but—she’s alive. She pushes herself onto her feet, and with Hans’ help, Link pulls her from the chamber and into the room proper. The Main Control Unit slides back into place, but Link hardly notices, arms wrapped around Mipha, clinging to her desperately. Mipha’s alive. He didn’t fail her, didn’t lose her.

Didn’t miss his chance before he knew he had it.

“I had hoped you would come for me,” she says, barely more than a whisper, returning his embrace, “But it had been so long, I barely dared to believe you could.”

“Hey, Mipha,” Anna says, voice bright and cheerful. Link is reluctant to let go, but Mipha pulls away from him to see her, and, well, he shouldn’t be selfish.

“Anna!” Mipha greets, happily. The girls share a quick hug.

“This is Hans,” Anna introduces, “He’s a friend. He helped us fight that—thing.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hans smiles at Mipha, bowing slightly, respectfully.

“I’m glad to know there are those who would help my dear friends,” Mipha says, nodding at him, “Now, I think we ought to get Ruta into position to do her duty, before we head back to the Domain. Please, give me a moment.”

Mipha turns to the Main Control Unit, which blossoms into an interface like a larger version of the Sheikah Slate when she runs a finger over the pedestal. She studies the map it provides her a moment before she selects a destination, and the Divine Beast starts to move.

***

Mipha smiles at the sight of Anna, watching out of Vah Ruta at the world as they head for the spot she’s selected, clearly awed and excited, while the man she’d introduced as a friend—Hans—stands by her side and clearly, fondly, enjoys her enjoyment. It’s not something she had expected, to be sure, but it seems a lovely development all the same.

“They’re buying a house together,” Link whispers, next to her, startling her.

“No they are not, you are making that up!” she laughs.

“I’m not!” Link sounds utterly sincere, “When we went to Hateno, Anna fell in love with a house that was about to be torn down. The construction manager roped him into helping her buy it. It was the second time they’d even met.”

“Goodness, I can only imagine what Elsa would say. Or poor Kristoff,” she giggles, visions of the both of them saying things like Anna, you hardly know him, he could be anyone filling her head. They were always strikingly alike in their reactions to Anna’s impulsive decisions.

“Right, that was his name,” Link says, like something is clicking into place. Mipha looks at him, curious. She’s about to ask, but Link must feel her gaze, because he sighs and continues, “When we woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection, we only knew our own names. Things are coming back, slowly, but there’s a lot missing, still.”

He’s wearing her armor. Well, his armor. That she had made, hoping. She had made sure to tell him the legends, the reason it was tradition for a Zora Princess to make armor for her intended. So that when she gave it to him, he would fully understand. Does he know, anymore?

“Did anyone—explain—the significance of that armor to you?” she asks. He would have needed it to board Ruta regardless, she knows, and Father would have understood that need and done what was necessary for the people of the Domain, but—she has to give him a choice, now. Cannot expect him to bind himself to such a promise without full understanding.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“I—It is yours. It, and everything it represents. Has always been yours. Will always be. But I understand, if you do not wish—if you would rather see it only as armor, and not a promise, that is.”

He takes her hand, curls their fingers together.

“I don’t think we should get married now,” he says, “But after the world is saved? You’re never getting rid of me.”

Oh, he says it with such confidence! She had hardly dared hope, even before, that he would accept her gift—were Princess Ruto and the Chosen Hero she loved not destined never to be together, after all? Would it not have been arrogant to assume that her own situation would turn out any differently than that of her ancestress, who would become the Sage of Water but never know what happened to the boy she gave the Zora Sapphire to, after he and the Princess of the age stopped a conqueror in his tracks?—but to know, now, to be certain that he wants her just as she wants him? It is as great a gift as her freedom, as Ruta’s freedom.

“I shall never wish to,” she assures him.

“Were, um. I remember that Kristoff liked Anna. Was there anything there?” Link asks, and she would think it was out of nowhere, save that he is staring at their friend as she points some colorful bird out to Hans, grabbing his hand. Neither of them lets go right away.

“He certainly wished there to be,” Mipha starts, thoughtful, “I believe he decided, as I did, to wait until after things with the Calamity were sorted to attempt acting on his feelings. As little hope as I had that you would choose me, I still—would have felt more certain of you accepting my affections, than of Anna accepting his. Dedicated to her training as she was, she still had a romantic streak that I cannot believe would have allowed her to… Settle for a man who didn’t make her feel like she was flying.”

She watches Anna and Hans, a moment, as they smile at each other, before she continues. Does he make Anna feel that way? There is certainly something immediately obvious sparking between them. That is undeniable. But is it everything her friend had made no secret of dreaming of? A true fairytale?

“Elsa, well, she would have encouraged the match. Did, in fact. Said many times that she thought Kristoff’s sensibility would be a good counterpoint to Anna’s impulsivity. But—nothing had happened, then. And… Elsa thought you were a bad influence on Anna for a reason. Can you see yourself standing by and watching Anna as she accepted a courtship from him, if she was even a little bit unsure?”

“Not from what I remember,” Link admits, “I—got back this memory, of him. Scolding us both after we fought a Hinox. And I just remember thinking about how condescending he could be towards her. How much he doubted her. She deserves better than that. Everyone deserves better than that.”

“There you have it. Anna adored her sister, but she would have valued and trusted your opinion just as much, if not more, at least in this. Nothing would have come of Kristoff’s feelings, I should think. Why do you ask?”

“I just—don’t want to see her get some memory back and feel like she’s betraying something, from back then,” he says, “it’s so easy to see how much she and Hans care about each other, and—something like that coming between them would be a shame.”

She can’t say she knows enough to agree with him, necessarily. But she remembers, even if he doesn’t, how strongly he had always cared about Anna’s feelings—about how, when Kristoff or Elsa thoughtlessly said things that hurt her, Link was the one who would go out of his way to assure her that, yes, she was, in fact, intelligent, with a keen sense of strategy. No, her impulsivity was not a bad thing, because her impulses were always to do good—and she understands where he’s coming from.

It’s strange, though, she thinks; if their plans had worked, then Anna and Hans never would have met. Yet—after what seemed like a failure, at the time—here they are. Him staring at her as if she’s the sun and he’s never been outside, before. Her, smiling back as though his attention is the greatest gift she’s ever been given. A fairytale indeed, in at least that sense. The seed of a story that could become legend. Hyrule is a land rife with legends—but so many are about Chosen Heroes and Princesses. It might be nice, she thinks, to know that someday, there will be a legend about two normal people who chose to help the Chosen Hero, who found each other in the most unlikely circumstances because of it. A silly thought; they cannot possibly know what of their story will pass into legend. But a hopeful thought, all the same.

“So then,” she says, setting thoughts of future legends aside, keeping her tone light and teasing, “Is this your way of telling me you would like us to purchase a home in Hateno as well? So you might keep an eye on them and make sure he doesn’t hurt her?”

“No, I trust her to protect herself,” Link shakes his head, “Our home is the Domain. You know that.”

Is it, though? She is Crown Princess, still, but—they have both been gone so long. Everything and everyone will have changed in their absence. Is the Domain still their home, or just an echo of what used to be their home, once upon a time?

That, perhaps, is too complicated of a question, for the time being.

***

Ruta’s rains have stopped.

This, everyone in the Domain knows.

The Hylians Prince Sidon found did it! is both shouted and whispered in the streets, joy and awe and everything in between.

Are you at rest, now, Mipha? King Dorephan wonders, watching as Ruta’s laser targets the remains of Hyrule Castle, Have Link and Lady Anna set your soul at ease?

***

“It’s going to be a long walk back to the Domain from here,” Hans observes when Ruta finally comes to a stop.

“Who said anything about walking?” Anna asks with a grin.

“Well, I could swim,” Mipha points out, “And with your armor you probably could as well, but that hardly seems fair to your friend.”

“That’s not what she meant,” Link sighs, before he turns to Anna, “Impa told us only to use it in extreme circumstances.”

“Link,” Anna says, sweetly, “It is well after midnight. We fought a Lynel. We had to deal with the defenses to get in here. We freed Vah Ruta, which involved fighting—that thing—”

“Waterblight, is what I always called it,” Mipha supplies. It’s as good a name as any, he supposes.

“Right, yes, Waterblight. Anyway. This is the longest we have been awake. Since we’ve been awake. I want. Extremely. To go crash in my bed at Kodah’s. And if you tell me you don’t want to crash in yours, you’re lying. Anyway! Impa said that so we’d be less noticeable to the Yiga! We’re inside Vah Ruta. And we’d be going straight to the Domain. What Yiga is going to notice? I’m pretty sure that this is the best time to go ahead and use it, all things considered.”

Okay. That’s a good argument, he’ll admit. He is very tired.

“Fine,” he says, “Everybody’s hands on the slate.”

Anna is the first one to comply, of course, but it was her idea. Mipha hesitates only a moment. Hans seems the most cautious, but with Anna smiling at him it doesn’t take long.

Link pulls up the map, finds the shrine in the lower portion of the Domain, and selects it for travel.

***

As they materialize in the Domain, the scent of Fleet-Lotus is the first thing Mipha notices. It’s been so long since she went into Vah Ruta, so long since she smelled or touched or tasted anything, really, that the sense of relief she feels at being out again is nearly overwhelming and she wants to weep.

She’s free. She will have to return to Ruta, when it is time for the final battle, to execute the plan and fire upon the Calamity just as they had been meant to do a century ago, but, for now, she is blessedly, finally free.

She knows exactly what she wishes to do with her freedom, she thinks, letting Link lead her to the inn where he and Anna have been staying in the Domain, where their old friends Kodah and Kayden wait. Anna has rushed ahead, Hans following at a more reasonable gait, but Link’s pace, hand in hers, is almost leisurely. Her father may protest, once he knows she is alive, but she intends to go with them. Her healing power will be put to far better use helping Link and Anna on their journey than it will be sitting and waiting for the signal. She has remained trapped for too long to confine herself, now.

It’s so late—or so early—that the streets of the Domain verge on empty. Probably for the best; she would rather her reappearance not be the cause of panic. There are a few scattered Zora, here and there, mostly guards in their armor on the night shift. She thinks one of them might be Rivan, but doesn’t dare draw attention to herself to ask.

“Perhaps we should go to the palace now, instead,” she finds herself saying, “Rather than causing a scene in the morning.” Although she probably should have suggested it before Anna ran off.

“I didn’t think about that,” Link admits. He wouldn’t have, would he? As impulsive as Elsa always complained that Anna could be, he has always been just as bad. Part of why the pair of them get along so well, Mipha thinks, the way they reflect each other. She loves them each dearly, though in vastly different ways.

“It wouldn’t be right—for Father not to be the first to know of my return,” she points out. How has Sidon grown in my absence? she wonders. Her brother was still so small, when last she saw him, but after a century—it is certain that he will be changed. But will he be the bright, happy brother that she knew, at least in part? Or will so long in this changed Hyrule have dampened his spirits?

She watches Link as he considers her words before nodding, changing their direction slightly. The winding streets of luminous stone are ever so familiar, despite everything. She can still hear the echoes of their childhood laughter, in her memories. Perhaps it is so simple; the Domain is still home because it still feels as it always did. It is where they met, where they grew so close to each other, where she always believed that she, at least, would live out her days, given her title. Perhaps Link was right, and her earlier wonderings were her overthinking things, having had no company but her own thoughts these  last 100 years. Perhaps, however, that remains to be seen.

***

Link walks into the throne room alone. Sidon is at King Dorephan’s side; Link thinks this is probably a good thing. Better to tell both of them the good news at once.

“Are Lady Anna and your other friend well?” Sidon asks, clearly concerned.

“They’re fine,” Link nods, “They just went back to the inn, to sleep. I came to tell you, when we freed Vah Ruta, we—made a discovery.”

“Mipha’s body,” King Dorephan guesses, sadly. Once again, he feels how incredibly lucky they are that that wasn’t the case at all.

“Not quite,” Link is quick to say, before he returns to the hall long enough to usher Mipha into the throne room.

He watches as she smiles up at the King. As her father stares back at her in awe.

“Hello, Father,” she greets, “Hello, Sidon. I am—sorry to have been away so long. To have worried you so.”

Chapter Text

Heroes have retaken Divine Beast Vah Ruta. Have ability to teleport longer range than our sigils.

Zora Champion Mipha alive.

He leaves the note in the hollow of a tree, one their scouts have used for communication before. It’s—hardly anything. Not worth the time he’s spending on his plan. Anyone with eyes will know that they’ve retaken the Divine Beast, the laser targeting the castle clear to see for miles—maybe even across all Hyrule. The note’s certainly not worth the churning in his gut he feels at the mere idea of Anna finding out about it.

But—if he doesn’t leave something, then he’s a traitor. He can’t be a traitor. He—

Loyalty to the Clan is protecting her, he tells himself. As he didn’t dare voice in front of Lars. As he barely dared consider in front of Lars. As long as he remains—as he is, the poison at her side, stealing trust he doesn’t deserve, then the Clan’s interest in her will remain as it is; less than their interest in Link, since she isn’t the Chosen Hero, and not enough to attack outright, without her stumbling into a trap. If he deserts the Clan, if he fully commits to her, then… Master Kohga’s interest in her will remain unchanged. He’s fairly certain of that. Of the fact that the only reason Master Kohga even knows who he is would be the sheer size of his family. But his father? The twins? They’ll go out of their way to cut her down and make him watch. He cannot betray the Clan. This plan remains his only way forward.

His only way to see her safe.

He returns to Zora’s Domain.

***

“So. Where to next?” Hans asks, joining them in the secluded corner of the palace where they’ve gone to help Mipha avoid the crowds. King Dorephan had accepted her intention to join them in their travels; the elders, however, had kicked up a fuss, and recruited, it seems, as many young Zora as they could to try and talk her into staying. Sidon and Kodah are currently fending them off with frightening amounts of cheerfulness. “Vah Rudania is closest, I think, but if Lady Mipha really intends to come along, Death Mountain is… Probably less hospitable to Zora than it is to everyone else who isn’t a Goron. I don’t know how well fireproof elixir would do for that particular problem.”

Anna smiles at him. It’s so nice to have more of a team than just her and Link.

“I think we need to go back to Kakariko, first,” she says, “Let Impa know about our progress. See if Hiro has figured out what offerings we need for the Springs. How’s our collection of ancient parts for Purah coming?”

Link taps on the slate’s storage screen, bringing up a list.

“We have… 10 screws, 6 springs, 9 gears, 4 shafts, and 1 core. Did she give us a list of what she wants?”

“No, she just said bring them to her or, um, Robbie in Akkala? We could probably visit. See if we have enough for anything. Get a list, if she’ll give us one.”

“I’m not sure Purah has ever been organized enough to make lists,” Mipha says, “but it can’t hurt to ask.”

They settle on a plan quickly enough—Kakariko, then Hateno, decide again from there—and decide to set out the next morning. They help Torfeau with a Hinox up by Ralis Pond, which feels—at least somewhat like they’re doing something, for the people of the Domain, while they extend their stay. Like they’re not just taking up their hospitality while the fate of everything is still resting in the balance.

But the blood moon rises again that night.

***

If Hans thought the heroes might use the blood moon as an excuse to use their slate’s teleportation capabilities rather than returning through the gauntlet of monsters with shock arrows he knows they must have encountered their first trip through the hills, he was mistaken.

Instead, he watches as Mipha swims downriver, saying she’ll meet them outside Goponga, while Link and Anna study the map.

It was raining their first time through. And they were going uphill. Climbing around the monsters would have been out of the question, they explain.

But it isn’t on this trip.

He has a terrible feeling he’s going to hate that Prince Sidon had found him a paraglider in chambers that used to belong to a member of the Hylian Guard who had been stationed in the Domain, before the Calamity, one in decent enough repair to be usable.

“Here, I think,” Anna zooms in on the slate’s map, pointing out a ledge on the cliffside that overlooks the river, “If we can get here then we can get around all those lizalfos without a fight. And, since it’s a straighter path than we took on the way in, it will probably shave a bunch of time off the trip. Maybe we make it back to Goponga in one day, instead of the two we took to get here.”

Link is nodding his agreement.

Hans, well. He does see her point. Sees exactly how her plan should work.

It’s fascinating, watching her come up with it. She’s clever; he never would have seen what she did, if all he had was a map and a general knowledge of where the monsters to avoid are. Of course, he’s also not used to needing to evade monsters, and maybe that’s a part of it. But—he doesn’t think that’s all or even most of why he’s impressed. He thinks, honestly, that it’s just—her. Seeing things and making connections and forming a plan.

Doesn’t mean he likes the idea of getting to that precarious ledge in order to take this shortcut.

***

“This used to be such a lovely village,” Mipha says, staring at the ruins, when they catch up to her at Goponga.

For a moment, Anna feels a pang of envy. Mipha still has all of her memories, knows what Hyrule was like before. Knows about their family and friends, about everything.

But then—she wonders if that isn’t just as painful, in its own way, as not knowing. Anna doesn’t remember Goponga. She looks at the ruins and that’s what she sees. But Mipha—she’ll see it as it was. And wouldn’t the contrast hurt, especially with the knowledge that they’d been supposed to prevent this? Sidon—Mipha would remember her brother as he was, and he’d grown up without her being there to see it. That has to hurt, too, right?

And the envious feeling leaves as suddenly as it came.

“Did you visit often?” she asks.

“Oh, not often,” Mipha shakes her head, “Although I did pass through every time I had to go to Castle Town, for official functions. And there were certainly occasions when—well, Kodah would get it into her head that all of us girls needed to spend some time together and she’d drag us down here to shop. You came along once or twice. The marketplace was always so colorful and stunning. The people were—Zora and Hylians, both, living together. A handful of Gerudo, too. Much less rigid than the Domain, where the only Hylians we had regularly staying were representatives of the royal guard in an honorary capacity, and their families. Link’s father stayed in that position the longest of anyone I can remember, almost eight years.”

“Kodah mentioned Link growing up in the Domain,” Anna agrees, for want of anything better to respond with.

“Mmm, until his mother died, yes,” Mipha nods, “She got sick so suddenly and deteriorated so quickly, none of the healers could help—my own powers are far more suited to injury than illness, so of course I felt rather useless about the whole thing. Once she was gone, his father asked to be transferred to Akkala Citadel, in a position training other knights, so that the family could move in with her mother, so he’d have some help with Link and Aryll. Or at least, that’s what he told my father the reason was, when he asked after receiving word from King Rhoam that we’d have a new guard within the week.”

“You don’t believe that?” Hans asks, sounding curious.

“Link was always… remarkably self-sufficient,” Mipha says, cautious, “And had many friends in the Domain he could spend time with rather than needing his father’s supervision. Aryll, I can perhaps see him wanting to have a feminine influence in her life enough to be sincere about that as his reasoning… But I always suspected that it was more a matter of how many happy memories the Domain held, and not wanting to remain amongst them.”

“Sounds like him,” Link says, softly, “Mipha, stay at the back, all right? There’s some things up ahead that use electricity.”

“I know you don’t remember,” Mipha says, voice sweet as ever but with an unusually hard edge, “But we had this fight once already, Dear. You were so determined to keep me out of danger that a Lynel managed to sneak up on us. I am quite capable, when not being ambushed by a creature specifically meant to target me.”

Hans chuckles.

“That hardly seems fair,” he says, “You could win any argument by telling him you already did and he just can’t remember.”

Anna, despite herself, laughs. Then she gives him a playful shove. He nudges her back with his elbow and—maybe, she thinks, feeling silly with him instead of about him will be a nice bonus to having him on the team.

“I suppose I could,” Mipha replies, “But then if I lied and he remembered it would just get me in trouble, so I don’t think I will.”

***

“We should probably get some more horses,” Hans finds himself suggesting, as they retrieve Sitron and Kjekk from the Riverside Stable. As it is, two horses between the four of them can work, but isn’t particularly efficient.

A day and a half from the Domain to the stable. Anna’s plan really did cut a decent chunk of time off of their trip. A few travelers eye them curiously—part of him tenses, but he realizes quickly enough they’re just travelers, not fellow Yiga. That their curiosity is more about the oddity of a Zora being away from the Domain, with a group of Hylians, no less, than anything else.

Other members of the Clan aren’t known for their subtlety, exactly, but they would be less obvious with their stares. That, he can guarantee.

Link goes to sell a few monster parts to Beedle and comes back holding a strange arrow; when Anna asks, he tells her that the merchant told him it was customer appreciation day and that this particular arrow came from the same Robbie in Akkala that she’d mentioned during their planning, that it will apparently deal a great amount of damage to Guardians.

That’s something the Clan will want to hear about. If there are effective weapons against those things, now… Well, the blood moons still restore them, but this will render the castle all the more accessible to the heroes, won’t it?

***

“Dragon scales!” the proclamation is made, suddenly, with absolutely no warning, by a teenage Sheikah who dumps an armful of scrolls on the table, “The Dragons are the Guardians of the Springs. The offerings are their scales. It’s a whole ‘earning their favor as representatives of the Goddesses’ symbolism thing. Please take me to Hateno. Ancient tech is so much cooler than reading through stuffy old texts—sorry Paya.”

Paya looks up, wide-eyed and startled, from where she’s been going through scrolls of her own, trying to figure out the heirloom that she sees as her responsibility, squeaking out a “t-that’s okay, Hiro!” in a voice so soft that Anna barely hears her.

“Um, thank you,” Anna interrupts, before he can say something else, “Really. This is very helpful. But. I don’t think we can just take you to Hateno. That’s, um. That’s Purah’s decision to make.”

“Aw, c’mon, please?” he asks, collapsing over-dramatically atop the scrolls he just dropped, “I am bored out of my mind.”

Purah would like him, she thinks. Enthusiastic with a sense of drama? She’d think he was the perfect student. And while Anna still doesn’t have a lot, in the way of memories, she can absolutely see the pair of them being menaces in a lab setting.

But Purah looks like a child and is too embarrassed to let anyone in Kakariko know about it. And Anna isn’t just going to disrespect her wishes because she thinks Purah’d be happy about it in the long run. Besides, century-long sleep aside she and Link aren’t really that much older than him and it would feel weird to just contradict the actual adults around here.

“Sorry,” she shrugs, offering a smile, “But! I promise, next time we’re there, I’ll talk to her for you. Try and get her to change her mind.”

***

He shouldn’t be in Kakariko. This is—he’s not a traitor. He’s not. But the twins are here regularly. They’re the last people in Hyrule he wants to deal with now. This is a bad idea, he thinks, even as he purchases a bed at the inn for the night. The heroes are all staying at Lady Impa’s home, but even if she had another spare room, he wouldn’t dare. Couldn’t dare.

Barely dares the inn.

But perhaps he’s lucky, he thinks, unbothered overnight, until—he goes to meet the others, in the morning, and finds everyone in a state of worry.

“We’re staying another day,” Anna tells him, the moment he walks up to her.

“What happened?”

“The heirloom Paya’s been studying—someone snuck in and stole it overnight. Link and Mipha are sitting with her today, and then later we’re going to investigate. She thinks it’s meant to open up one of the shrines for him, so.”

He’s not sure that the fact that the shrines are involved is even necessary; they’re so good, and while from what he’s seen Paya is a bit of a nervous wreck they clearly consider her a friend, and he thinks that would be enough. That would get them to stay and hunt down the thief.

Or thieves, considering he’s fairly certain it will have been the twins. If their contact here had even a whisper of knowledge that the heirloom might be connected to the heroes, might help the heroes, and had told them as much, they would have gone ahead and taken it.

The fact that they did so the same night Link and Anna were in the house is the much more concerning part. They could have—

Not a traitor, he reminds himself. It doesn’t help the cold dread in the pit of his stomach.

Somehow, Anna drags him into spending the day playing with some of the village children. He tries not to be constantly looking over his shoulder, but the twins will still be nearby and—with any luck, Lars had already passed on his plan to the others. With any luck, his reason for being here is established. But will they care, even if they do know?

“Dorian and Cado both say the only visitors out of the ordinary last night were Lasli and Mellie,” Mipha reports after she and Link regroup with them to come up with a plan to hunt the thief. He’s become fairly certain that Dorian is the one his brothers are blackmailing—being that Cado has only cuccos and an estranged wife they could threaten, while Dorian has two young daughters and from what Hans has heard these two days in town their mother died under mysterious circumstances—but he can’t possibly suggest that, here. It isn’t something that he’d have a plausible explanation for knowing.

He shouldn’t even be helping with this. It’s a step closer to being a traitor. But he has no viable excuse not to.

“But,” he says, tentative, unsure how to balance his act, here, “The heirloom was fairly large. Dorian and Cado would have seen it was with either of them when they left if they were the thief, so who visited hardly seems like useful information. The thief had to have had a way in and out unseen. I think we can discount both of them, as potential suspects.”

“We also have to consider that whoever did it has had all day to run,” Anna adds, “but. We promised Impa we’d look for suspicious activity tonight. We’re keeping that promise.”

So they wait. Mipha keeps an eye out for Mellie. When Lasli—who clearly didn’t have anything to do with this, just from the facts they have—walks through town looking guilty about it, he follows, letting Link and Anna continue the hunt for some unknown third party.

She’s visiting a grave. He doesn’t bother to confront her, knows he’ll learn absolutely nothing if he does.

He gets back to where they’d been staking things out at the same time Mipha does.

Link and Anna are both gone. And—

Dorian is no longer at his post.

“Where did they go?” he asks Cado. That horrible feeling of dread churns. The guardsman points them up the hill, the path towards Mount Lanayru. Dorian is only working with the twins out of duress, he knows that, so why has the man deserted his post? In such a way that it would make Link and Anna feel the need to follow?

He and Mipha make a run for it. Once they’re at the top of the hill, the sound of fighting makes clear where they need to go. He pulls his bow; he prefers a blade, he always has, but with the bow he can more easily aim at incapacitating the twins rather than truly harming them, more easily argue that he is playing both sides if he has to.

Link is on the ground, and Mipha dashes to his side, hands aglow with her healing power. Dorian is standing over him, protectively, locked in combat with—Rudi, judging by the Windcleaver. Anna, silver sword and shield she’d gotten in the Domain in hand, is facing down Runo and his sickle.

He aims an arrow into Rudi’s knee, firing just as Link, revived enough from Mipha’s help to rejoin the fray, rolls to his feet and slashes with his flameblade. The successive hits make his brother cringe and jump back before Dorian or Mipha can add on. The Zora Champion pulls her trident from her back and stabs out at Runo, a strike that catches his hand at the same time as Anna uses her shield to parry his blade away; he drops the sickle with a yelp and uses a sigil, popping over to Rudi’s side.

“You will pay, traitor,” Rudi says, sneering tone clear, and only the fact that he’s turned directly towards Dorian keeps Hans calm.

The twins run. They’re outnumbered; he wouldn’t have expected otherwise. Fortunately, they leave Paya’s heirloom behind. Anna sheathes her sword and picks up Runo’s fallen blade, handing it off to Link, who stores it in the slate.

“Explain,” Link says, turning to the guardsman.

***

Link is inside the shrine. Anna sits on the edge of the platform, waiting. Mipha had gone back to the village with Dorian, to talk to Impa about what happened—as much as he had asked them not to tell anyone, those Yiga had gotten away. He has young children. Impa needs to know everything. At least they’d convinced him of that much, she thinks, sighing, as Hans sits next to her.

“I don’t get it,” she says, aloud, “He—why do they care so much that he left them behind to have a family? And why—why wouldn’t he just tell Impa everything from the start? Having the whole town aware would have to be safer for Koko and Cottla, right?”

Tired, she leans into Hans’ side. He seems almost hesitant, putting an arm around her.

She likes the feeling, scoots a little closer to him.

“I can hardly consider myself an expert,” he says, “But they did call him traitor. I have a feeling that the Yiga aren’t very tolerant of people turning their backs on them, whatever the reason. As for not telling Impa before, I think… Fear makes it hard to think clearly. And after what happened with his wife, he would have been terrified for those girls. How long had he been here when they came after him? How long had he been hiding that part of his past from Impa and the villagers already? You and Mipha had to talk him into telling the truth now. So in addition to the fear for his children, there was fear that he’d be rejected by everyone over what he’d been hiding. I can—imagine. How that must feel.”

Chapter Text

Purah, in the end, upgrades their sensor and their remote bombs.

“Need more cores before I can do stasis!” she calls, even as she sends them out the door while she tinkers with her guidance stone.

After the mess in Kakariko, Hateno has been fairly peaceful. Sure, they ended up chasing down a bunch of monsters that were rustling sheep while Purah worked, but compared to dealing with thefts and the fact that one of Impa’s guards had been feeding information to the Yiga, that’s nothing. Anna had dropped off the rest of the wood for her house, so she and Hans only need to come up with the rupees, now, Hans had delivered the book he’d retrieved back to his brother, Mipha had seen Anna’s house and believes him about it being a thing, now.

The Spring of Courage is their next destination, once they find the Dragon that guards it and retrieve scales. It’s going to mean detouring well away from any of the Divine Beasts, but considering it was one of the first things they were told to do, Link thinks it’s probably a good idea to actually get it done.

In addition to the map on their slate, they have a paper map, that Hans’ brother donated, of the general area where they’re going to have to go. Old, outdated, but still featuring some of the roads, and, most importantly, their next landmark to look out for—the Bridge of Hylia, right back near the plateau.

It’s pouring rain, as they finally approach the bridge, two days after leaving Hateno, and he, once again, sees that white-and-lightning ribbon in the skies, closer than ever.

The first dragon, he realizes. Waiting for them. She’s been waiting for them all along, that calling feeling in his mind only getting stronger.

“Farosh!” Anna yells, clearly awe-struck. The name clicks into certainty in his mind as the majestic creature soars through the air, circling, twisting around the bridge and through the waters. She’s beautiful, that dragon. Breathtaking.

“How are you going to get scales?” Hans asks, shouting over the lashing of the rain to be heard.

He does some quick calculations in his head. Guardian of the Spring of Courage. Despite the rain, there are updrafts, on the bridge.

He readies his paraglider, and as Farosh does another pass towards the bridge, he makes a run for it, opening the paraglider to catch the wind as he jumps. Anna is right behind him.

“What are you two doing?” Mipha calls.

“Courage!” Anna yells back, although he’s not entirely sure the storm doesn’t swallow her word before the others can hear it.

They take out their bows, aim, and fire. The arrows each strike true, and a pair of glittering scales fall into the water below. Near the shore, at least, he notices as they drop down, following. They won’t have to swim far.

***

“Children of Farore!” Mipha swears, as she watches Link and Anna jump off the Bridge of Hylia. Honestly! Would saying something before they did that have been so much to ask? Poor Hans looks like he’s about to faint—he must not be used to the particular brand of recklessness that those blessed by the Goddess of Courage possess. He did, she remembers being told, only join them right before they took on Vah Ruta. Likely, he hasn’t seen much in the way of boldness that some might call insanity, from them. He’ll get there, if he’s as serious about Anna as he seems.

Link is Farore’s Chosen. All the legends indicate she may only have one, at a time. But if she does not love Anna nearly as dearly as she does Link, she is a fool, and Mipha feels quite confident in assuming that none of the Golden Goddesses are fools.

Hans looks at her, at the oath, blinking.

“What was that?” he asks. Is it strange, or not, that he does not understand? Before, it would have been unthinkable, and yet… She has so little concept of this changed Hyrule. Zora’s Domain stands, and thus there must still be some records of the old ways, of the Golden Three, of Lady Hylia, of Lord Jabu-Jabu. That does not mean the Hylians keep old faiths, she supposes, though she saw statues of Lady Hylia prominent in both Kakariko and Hateno. They are old statues; that they are well-maintained in towns that remain is perhaps less an indication that they are still believed in than, simply, that the towns remain.

“Children of Farore,” she repeats, in case he did not quite understand what she said. His look remains blank, “The Goddess of Courage, Goddess of the Wind. Creator of all life in Hyrule, the Green Lady, the Mother-Goddess. Associated with the spark, with lightning. She is Link’s patroness, as he is her Chosen. She is Anna’s patroness, as well, though—that is through Anna’s devotion, rather than the Goddess’ blessing. They are being—courageous to the point of reckless without so much as a warning. And so, I use their title as an oath.”

“Oh,” he says, and then he laughs, “It does sum that up nicely, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed,” she agrees, watching as the pair of them splash into the water and retrieve the scales, “Are the old ways so rarely kept?” she asks, curious.

Something—some shadow—passes over his face, which goes strangely neutral.

“When the Calamity struck, it sent Guardians after all of the temples, first,” he says, “Every temple in Hyrule, today, stands at least partially ruined. Perhaps the Zora still have priests—Hylians don’t. I’m not saying that no one still believes, I couldn’t possibly say that and be confident in it. But if they do, it’s not—it’s something they do privately. Because there is nothing organized, anymore. I—didn’t grow up with it. Personally. My brother Lars, as a historian—he has a somewhat academic interest in most things, so he may know more, if you want to speak with him on some return to Hateno.”

“I see,” she says. It makes a horrible amount of sense, doesn’t it? There have been… More pressing needs, for the people, than rebuilding organized religion. Especially given—the blood moons. The unending war. She looks at him; he’s looked away from her, is focused on Anna and Link, down in the water, “Would you like to learn more?” she asks, as gently as she can, “I hardly consider myself an expert, but—I could teach you… The basics. You might find faith appealing, if you give it a chance.”

For a very long moment, he doesn’t answer. But—just as Anna climbs onto the shore, gleaming scale in hand—

“Please?” he says, softly, “I think—I’d like to know more.”

***

The tower at the far side of the bridge is surrounded by monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos both. They alternate between fighting the creatures and sneaking past when they can, conserving energy for the climb.

When the map fills in on the slate, Link frowns. It’s a much smaller area than he would have thought it should be. The river Impa mentioned, the Dracozu, is on it, at least. It’s enough to get them where they need to go.

When they reach the Dracozu river, they split up. Hans and Mipha head for what’s marked on the physical map, past the boundaries of what they just received for the slate, as Lakeside Stable, with the horses, to wait, as the terrain of the forest is not particularly horse-friendly.

He and Anna follow the river north.

At the end of the river, a ruined temple stands. Lizalfos and moblins have infested the area; the lizalfos are armed, he can see even from a distance, with shock arrows, their wicked yellow tips glinting in the afternoon light.

They do their best to keep their distance, using their own bows to pick off the lizalfos without being seen. There’s no need to charge in and get overwhelmed, if they don’t have to, especially with Mipha and her healing ability several hours of travel away.

As they clear out the monsters, a drizzle starts; not a downpour like at the bridge but a steady and soaking sort of wet.

And then they have help. Farosh reappears, starts snapping up the monsters with her jaws, tearing at them with her claws. Right; she’s the Guardian of the Spring. She probably hates seeing it overrun like this.

When the monsters are gone, Farosh settles into a landing, draping herself across the ruins. She seems to be waiting, expectantly, for them to go in. Anna, as kind as she is brave, makes her way to where, near the ground, Farosh is resting her head, and—heedless of the sparks that fly into the air from the dragon’s body, uncontrolled—wraps her arms as best she can around the Guardian of Courage, and presses a kiss to Farosh’s muzzle.

It’s a brief thing. But he would almost swear that the dragon’s eyes turn warmly fond. Anna’s made a new friend for life in that one instant, he thinks.

Inside the ruins is a statue, surrounded by a pool of water. The Spring. He’s been here, before, he thinks, suddenly, escorting Zelda but never for himself. If he closes his eyes he can almost hear her, begging Farore and Hylia to help her.

He and Anna each take one of the scales, and tip them into the water; light blazes where they splash. A bit of wall opens up, revealing a shrine behind the statue, but the light from the two scales amps brighter and brighter until he has to close his eyes against it—

When it dims enough to open his eyes again, there’s… Well, a woman. There but not-there, her appearance shifts even as he looks at her, rippling through three different forms. The first is deeply tanned, with a wild mane of emerald green curls, eyes that match, draped in an elaborate dress of the same shade, with golden jewelry adorning her, bangles and necklaces and belts. The second is pale, looks a bit like Anna but with dark hair, in a braided updo, wearing a simple purple and blue gown; her eyes remain the same green and he knows it’s wrong, a mask, particularly when the same eyes remain on the third form, skin a bit darker than the second but not near to the tan of the first, hair a golden blonde that matches his own and features that he’s guessing Anna sees as much of him reflected in as he saw her in the second, a plain tunic and pants instead of a gown at all. She cycles continuously through all three appearances, as though settling on one is impossible.

It’s not really memory, what he suddenly knows.

Farore. His patroness, as the statue in the Temple of Time, called her.

Creator of all life in Hyrule.

The Mother-Goddess, taking on the forms of their mothers.

“Dear Ones,” she greets, voice musical, “I am glad you heeded Hylia’s advice, and found your way to me.”

She isn’t real—or at least, isn’t physically present, he knows that, can feel that somehow—but she steps forward, cups his face in her hands; the first form, the tallest, kisses his forehead.

“Link, Son of Akkala and Lurelin, Beloved of Zora’s Domain, Blood and Soul of Heroes Past, Bearer of the Triforce of Courage, My Chosen—you must regain your strength and reclaim your blade, Darling Boy. She sleeps with the Deku Tree, waiting for your return. You have, already, every blessing I can give you—but not every boon, not yet. I give you one memory, and one gift. The memory,” she kisses his forehead again and he can feel a piece of the fog clear from his mind and he sees—a Guardian, in a lab, malfunctioning, and himself, using a pot lid to deflect its beam back at it, damaging it; a clue, he realizes. A way to fight the things other than that arrow Beedle gave him, in case they have to, “The gift, that when you leave this place you will be joined by what help the Heroes that Came Before can spare,” she tilts her head to the side, appears to be thinking, “and next, not a boon, only a mercy; at some point on your journey you will reunite with what remains of your family. Sweet Aryll succeeded in the goal you were told she set herself. Epona is with her. They will keep each other safe, until you find them.”

She leaves him, turns to Anna. Cups her face and kisses her forehead, too.

“Anna, Daughter of Arendelle and Kakariko, Beloved of—” she pauses, blinks, like she’s realized something that confuses her “—both the Hebra Mountains and the Gerudo Highlands Themselves, Heart and Hope of everyone who was ever told no, you cannot be fierce when all they wanted was to fight—it is Fate’s Path, that I may only have one Chosen. I cannot claim you, no matter how dearly I wish to. But you are so strong, Lovely Girl, and so brave, and I am proud of you. Never forget that Courage is a choice. I would give you every blessing I have given Link, if it were possible. As I cannot, this gift will have to do.”

Several golden bangles, identical to the ones the first form wears, appear on Anna’s wrists. Each of them glints with a different color gemstone.

“They are protection, Sweet One,” Farore explains, “If your enemies use elemental magics to attack you, you will be able to absorb the power and redirect it back upon them. Use them well. Use them fiercely. And if you are ever in need—you must only call, and Farosh will answer. She has decided that quite on her own.”

She gives Anna another kiss.

“The Shrine of Resurrection has repressed your memories, but they are not gone forever. Both of you will remember. ‘Tis but a matter of time. Unfortunately, time is in short supply at present and you must make your journey. You may grieve when all is done, but until then, fight, My Darlings. For the memory of all who were lost 100 years ago, for the future of all who are here now, fight. And, as Hylia ordained, seek out My Sisters and Their Guardians; it will be some time yet before you are ready to reach them, but they will be eager to help you, to protect this land we created. Din, Power, ought be your next visit. Have the boy who travels with you speak with her, as well. She will be—quite interested, in him.”

And then, she’s gone, fading away into nothingness, the only proof she was ever there at all the jewelry still on Anna’s wrists. Looking at her, he has what’s almost a flash of memory again, but not quite—like an afterimage, superimposed over Anna-as-she-is, something like Anna-as-she-once-was, decked in finery for some formal event. These jewels, the boon of a goddess, meant to help her fight, suit her better, he thinks, in that she looks far more comfortable now than in the brief flash.

“Better check out the shrine, while we’re here,” Anna murmurs, sounds a bit dazed, staring at the bangles. Well. She’s not wrong, he decides.

Chapter Text

When they leave the Spring, there’s a wolf waiting in the forest. Larger than most of the wolves they’ve seen so far, with a green tinge to its fur, a shackle on one forepaw, what appears to be an earring hanging from one ear, and eyes that look almost identical to Link’s.

“The past heroes sent a wolf,” she states, staring at the creature. She’s pretty sure it nods in agreement with her words.

Link laughs, and pulls some meat from the slate, tossing it in the wolf’s direction. The beast snatches it out of the air in its jaws, and tears into it quickly. When it’s done with its treat, it trots over to them, plopping itself down and staring up at them expectantly.

Cautiously, Anna reaches out and pats the wolf behind the ears; it’s amazingly docile, for a wild animal. But they can’t stand around forever, and make the journey back the way they came towards the road. They have to head to Lakeside Stable, meet up with Mipha and Hans. Figure out where they’re going to go from here.

***

“The three Golden Goddesses created Hyrule,” Mipha tells him, as they wait at the stable for Anna and Link, “I told you of Farore already. Her sisters are Din—Goddess of Power, Goddess of Fire. Creator of the very land of Hyrule itself. The Red Lady, the Warrior-Goddess. As I understand it the Gorons are considered her chosen people, generally, but the Gerudo also have very strong ties to her despite having a different belief system entirely—and Nayru—Goddess of Wisdom, Goddess of Water. Creator of law. The Blue Lady, the Justice-Goddess. She has a strong association with ice. Of the three, we Zora hold her dearest, and it is said she loves us well in return.

“Their fourth sister, who is most widely worshipped—or was, anyway—is Hylia. The youngest. The White Lady, Goddess of Light. She was protector of the Triforce, many, many ages ago,” Mipha continues.

“The Triforce?” Hans questions. He thinks he heard the term, once, when being told about the Calamity. But that would have been a long time ago—lessons in the Clan are far more focused on fighting and crafting disguises than they are about the Calamity that they serve. There’s a reason many of the Clan claim Glory to Master Kohga as their reason for action rather than any affiliation to the beast at all.

He—does as he’s told. Keeps his head down and tries to avoid most of his brothers. It’s the one thing that’s always worked, for him. Coming up with this insane plan of playing double agent is—well. It’s not like him. Not like who he was just—days. Days ago.

He doesn’t even know what he would have said he believed, before now. When his loyalties were—undivided. Not compromised. The Calamity? Master Kohga? Did he believe in any of it? Or was it just—what he knows? What he’s always known?

“A relic. Pure power, left by the three Golden Goddesses after they created the world. According to legend, if someone with a heart balanced in their virtues were to touch it, they would be granted a single wish. If their heart were unbalanced, however, it would break into three, and they would receive whichever piece—Power, Courage, or Wisdom—most resonated with them, while the other two would find appropriate hosts. It is said that this has happened, in the past, although I cannot say I know that particular legend well. There are—conflicting accounts regarding it, I am aware of that much.”

“This happened despite Hylia guarding it?” he asks. Part of him doesn’t know why he agreed when the Zora Champion offered to teach him these things.

Part of him knows exactly what his interest is.

He still isn’t a traitor. But he—wonders. More. Every moment he spends working on this plan. Every time he looks at Anna.

He had put his arm around her in Kakariko after the debacle with the stolen heirloom and… It wasn’t even the first time he had held her, he knows that! But something inside of him had… Shifted. Towards her. In a way that feels—inevitable. Inexorable. Inching ever closer to the line he doesn’t want to cross. Doesn’t dare to cross.

“After Hylia had—hmmm. How to explain this…” Mipha sighs, “So. Hylia was guarding the Triforce. There was a war, demons attacking the people of ancient Hyrule. Hylia’s forces won, but in a way she knew would not be permanent. In order to protect the Triforce, she created a series of trials for a future hero, and then she shed her divinity in order to be reborn as a mortal who could, in fact, use the Triforce when the time came, to defeat the demons permanently. That mortal was the first Zelda, founder of the Royal Family. At least one princess a generation, since, has borne her name. Hylia regained her divinity, at some point, rejoined the goddesses, but was no longer personally responsible for the Triforce’s protection. It was after this that the legends of it splitting come from.”

Lars probably knows quite a bit of this, he thinks. Has maybe even tried to tell him some of it, before, while rambling on about his research. He’s gotten incredibly good at tuning his brother out, over the years, about such things, smiling and nodding where appropriate. It had always seemed the best way to respond.

Perhaps, he’ll admit now, he ought to have listened more.

***

When they arrive at Lakeside Stable, the wolf at their heels, Anna watches with a pleased smile as Link and Mipha embrace. Hans—is looking at her, she realizes. In a way that makes her feel… Warm. She tries to ignore it, to put it aside—priorities. World-might-literally-end priorities—but she can’t really deny that she likes it. Can’t really deny that if she’s happy for Link and Mipha, then she has to admit that there’s time for concerns other than their priorities and that maybe. Maybe. She really, really wonders what it would feel like to kiss him. To be kissed by him.

Priorities. Priorities!

“Those are new,” he says, gesturing to the bangles on her wrists, snapping her out of her thoughts of hands-on-her-waist, holding-her-close, lips-trailing-across-her-skin, which are both new and very unproductive. Ugh, she blames Kodah and Purah. They both pushed her in different ways about him for ultimately the same reasons, that, even though she doesn’t really remember, they’re her friends and they care, and—well, obviously she has liked him all along. They weren’t wrong that there was something there to push her on. But maybe if, when they were in Hateno, and he was giving that book back to his brother, and Link and Mipha were helping Symin with some errands, and she was waiting in the lab, Purah hadn’t said something—that Kodah had also said, back in the Domain, the one, singular way in which their reactions had been almost exactly the same—about how finding out you two are saving the world and immediately running after you to volunteer to help is the most romantic gesture ever—her thoughts wouldn’t be taking such a distracting turn.

“They were a gift,” she tells him, because what else is there to say? They’re in a stable; if she starts talking about boons from a goddess people will think she’s insane. At best.

“From your patroness,” he replies, his tone somewhere between statement and question, not quite either.

“Yeah,” she nods her agreement quickly, holding her wrists out closer to him so he can get a better look, “They’re—supposed to—absorb and redirect elemental magic. I haven’t tested them, yet.” Gently, oh-so-gently, he takes one of her wrists in his hands, examining the bangles closely. She takes a deep breath, tries not to shiver at the contact, “She, um. She said when we go to her sister, the one in Akkala, that you need to talk to her, too.”

His gaze changes, with that. Less looking at her warmly and more wide-eyed surprise. It’s easier, somehow, to deal with. To shove all those distracting thoughts right back into the recesses of her mind that they came from.

The wolf barks, before Hans can respond.

“And—that is?” he asks, gaze torn from her.

“Link’s gift from our patroness,” Anna says, holding her hand out to the creature, again. He’s been nothing but docile towards her and Link, but very enthusiastic about every animal and monster they’ve passed on their way. They have quite a bit more meat in the slate for future meals, now, than they did before the wolf joined them. He comes to her outstretched hand and rubs his head against it for a moment before turning those eyes just like Link’s on Hans and staring.

“He’s our friend,” she tells the wolf, almost scolding. He lets out a little hmpf noise, but stops the staring to trot over to Link and Mipha, instead.

Soon enough they’re gathered around the communal cooking pot while Link cooks. The wolf has shoved its way between her and Hans and sat. Which is—funny, in a way. Also kind of a relief, because she doesn’t want to deal with these thoughts and feelings just yet, and she just knows that being close enough to feel the heat radiating from him would bring them all right back to the surface. She wants to feel—closer. To having accomplished something. To having saved her sister and cousin—first.

“So,” she says, once Link has handed out food, “What do we want to do? Where do we go from here? There’s another tower to activate, but—generally I don’t know if we have any reason to be in this part of Hyrule, do we?”

“Shrines,” Link points out, “When Farore said to regain my strength, that means more shrines. They’ve been all across Hyrule, so far. There must be some here.”

“But how long do we actually want to spend looking for them?” she counters, “We have no idea how much time we have before we’re, you know. Out of time. We have to strike some sort of balance.”

“Three days?” Mipha suggests, “Enough time to actually put in some effort towards finding them, but not too terribly long.”

“Lurelin Village should be about a day out,” Hans points out, the paper map from his brother spread in front of him, “They might have something useful in their general store. If you wanted to try and bolster our supplies of anything.”

“If you kids go to Lurelin,” says one of the stable employees, walking past as Hans says it, “What you should do is leave first thing in the morning, and detour up to Lover’s Pond and have a picnic lunch. It’s one of the prettiest spots in all Hyrule, if you ask me. And, if you’re lucky, you’ll see Farosh on your way east. She spends most mornings near the falls by Lake Floria.”

Well. The tower isn’t far from here. They have the better part of the afternoon to get that done, before they decide on anything else.

***

Zelda’s light flickers, the Calamity attacking it head-on.

Elsa is tired, from this unending fight, but she sends her ice to reinforce the barrier.

We need to buy Anna and Link as much time as possible, she thinks, the cold rushing out of her, causing the beast to act sluggish and slow, for a bit.

It always rallies, always hits back like it has some sort of internal fire, but her ice helps. It had from the very first moment.

Blessed Nayru, Guide My Hand, she prays. Once, long ago, she thought prayer was a waste of her time, a waste of Zelda’s time—neither of them had managed to control their abilities through devotion alone, after all. Now, in this state of limbo within Hyrule Castle, with only vague knowledge that her sister is awake and working towards winning this fight once and for all, prayer is all she has. At least, with Zelda’s help, she’s been able to reach out and speak to Anna, a bit. To feel her sister and guide her, somewhat.

My Sister Farore sends word, whispers back the voice she has come to associate with the Blue Lady, after all this time, Anna has been to see her. She is well and she is strong. Determined as ever. Pass word on to Zelda; the disadvantage is not what it was believed to be. Champion Mipha, at least, yet lives, Farore saw as much through Link’s connection to her. The other Champions may, as well. It is only logical that the beast would have dealt with all four in similar fashion, after all.

For a moment she can but blink at the instruction, stunned. She knows exactly why Nayru wants her to pass on the word, rather than telling Zelda herself; while Zelda is Nayru’s Chosen, while they are both beloved of the Goddess of Wisdom, have both communed with her since they’ve been in this state, Zelda is closer still to Hylia, her soul so closely entwined with the fourth goddess that Nayru cannot always reach her. It is the news itself that shakes her, though, with her patroness’ help, her magic does not falter.

The Champions may not be lost. Mipha, at least, is alive. Perhaps—perhaps their failures, 100 years ago, were not so great as they have always believed.

Elsa’s strength surges with her love for her sister, her cousin, her friends, her people.

Her ice coats the beast more thoroughly than ever. She will do everything in her power, to keep Hyrule safe. To keep Anna safe. For as long as she can.

***

Lover’s Pond is very pretty, Anna will admit, as they crest the ridge of the mountain and it comes into view. It almost doesn’t look real, she thinks, the heart-shaped body of water too perfect to be natural. But, if it’s not real, then it was made too long ago for anyone to remember.

There are other people in the area already—a man and a woman, seemingly not together, on opposite banks.

“I can see why that worker recommended stopping here for a bit,” Mipha says, sitting at the edge of the water and dipping her feet in. Anna sees—ooh. Quite a few, actually!—hearty radishes, and starts gathering them up for their supplies, humming as she works. The man starts talking Link’s ear off about something, when he gets too close.

“I think,” Hans says, peering into the depths of the pond, “There’s something down there? A chest, maybe?”

Anna’s the one with the slate at the moment, so she goes over to him, pulling up the magnesis rune. She looks down into the water herself, with the rune active, sees the telltale glow of a metal object.

Unfortunately, before she can pull it out, her feet get the better of her. Or, well, maybe she can’t blame her own two feet entirely, given that she slips on a particularly muddy patch of shore after the wolf—who had been chasing a bird, and possibly still is, given how hyped up he is—runs a lap around the whole pond and cuts his path a little close to her, bumping into her knees. Hans tries to catch her. Unfortunately, that just causes him to overbalance too, and they both end up splashing into the water, which is much deeper than it looks like it should be.

But she feels like blaming her feet is a thing. A half-memory, maybe. Something she used to do a lot that hasn’t really happened since they’ve been awake.

Part of her feels embarrassed. Being so clumsy, in front of him, that it affected him too. They’re both soaking wet and treading water and staring at each other and—and he doesn’t seem to mind, any of it.

And she just—starts laughing. And so does he. And maybe. Maybe she feels almost—relaxed, for a moment. The whole weight of the world thing off of her shoulders, for just a brief time.

Maybe it was an even better idea than the stable worker knew it would be, for them to stop here, for a bit.

***

Night is falling as they arrive in Lurelin.

The moon, rising in the sky, is already visibly the dripping red of a blood moon.

He’s never seen so many, so quickly, at any other point in his life. Unpredictable as they’ve always been, this is—worse.

“Maybe we don’t have the three days we thought we did,” Anna murmurs, worry evident. He reaches out to take her hand, the best attempt at comfort he can offer. When he returned the book to Lars, as part of his cover, his brother had said—quite a few things. But, most relevantly, that there had been no indication that anything with the Calamity had changed. No indication that the increased frequency of the blood moons since the towers rose means anything at all. He can’t exactly tell her that members of the Yiga Clan think the blood moon is no more important now than it ever was during the last century.

He sorts through his brother’s information, hoping for something, though, and lands on—

“Lars said there’s records from—the beginning of everything—of times when it was almost every night. I don’t think we can use it as a timer.”

“I suppose,” she agrees. It feels wrong—for her to be so worried. She’s optimism and sunlight incarnate, usually. Even in Vah Ruta, she had been hopeful that that horrible voice was actually her friend, even when all other evidence said it couldn’t be.

“What do you think you’re doing, you fool?!” one of the villagers shouts, towards another who’s boarding a raft, interrupting any further thoughts of the blood moon, “No one has come back from that place in weeks! Not since all the old shrines lit up!”

The four of them exchange a glance. That timing—it has to mean something.

“Fishing’s better out there,” says the man on the raft, like that’s some sort of acceptable reason to endanger himself, “I’ll be careful. Won’t set foot on the island. But with the monsters having set up over at Aris Beach, we need more places to catch, or we’re out of food, let alone trade.”

“Don’t be stupid,” the first villager argues, “Eventide isn’t good enough fishing to risk your life on.

Link pulls up the map on the slate, and they gather around it to look. Eventide, Eventide—there. A few miles offshore. Largest island in the bay.

“If it’s related to the shrines I should go alone,” Link says.

“Absolutely not,” Mipha disagrees.

“Hey, literal Chosen One?” Anna says, hands on hips, “You’re kind of the most important one here? You’re not going to some island that might be, I don’t know, eating people or something? Without backup.”

Link looks at him, expectantly. Expecting what? Argument? Agreement?

He measures his thoughts, measures that look, measures the way Mipha and Anna have already responded.

“I can’t say I’m excited by the idea of going to an island that might be eating people,” he says, “But they’re right. You shouldn’t go alone.”

The wolf barks. Probably agreement with the rest of them rather than Link, if he had to judge. Though, he does feel a little bit ridiculous trying to judge the tone of a wolf.

“We’ll spend the night at the inn and all go first thing in the morning,” Mipha says, finality in her voice. Link eyes one of the extra rafts tied up at the pier, like he’s considering making a break for it, but, ultimately, nods his acquiescence.

Chapter Text

It takes the better part of the morning for them to reach Eventide Island on a borrowed raft. At the north shore, a group of people have an encampment—the missing villagers, hopefully? The strange thing is, all of them are in their underwear.

“No! Don’t!” one of the people in the camp shouts, noticing them, but as soon as they hop from raft to shore a voice rings out.

To you who has traveled to this island…

Link grimaces. One of the monks, definitely. Hearing such a voice outside of a shrine is weird, but at least they were onto something to come here.

I present you with a challenge. In your travels, you’ve relied on the equipment you’ve found along the way. Here, you must cast this equipment aside and face this trial with only your wits and whatever you can scavenge.

There’s a wash of magic, and suddenly—

They’re as unequipped as everyone else on the beach. The only thing, besides their underwear, that the magic leaves behind is the Sheikah Slate on his hip, and the bangles from Farore on Anna’s wrists.

And the raft is gone. Which explains nicely why none of the Lurelin villagers have managed to go back on their own.

Offer up the orbs to the three altars on this island. Only then will I acknowledge your skill and return your items.

Link pulls up the slate as soon as the voice stops speaking. Everything they had in storage is gone. Clothes, food, weapons, all of it.

The villagers all sigh.

“Great. Another raft, gone,” one of them says.

“And more mouths to feed,” says another.

“What do you know about the orbs the voice mentioned?” Anna is the one to ask, interrupting their complaints, standing as tall as she can, using what he vaguely remembers considering her noble lady tone. The one he knows she never liked using, because she felt inadequate as a leader in comparison to Elsa. My sister was born to lead Arendelle, he remembers her saying, I’m just—Anna.

“Guarded by monsters,” says a villager, “One’s with a couple bokoblins, which’ll probably be the easiest to get to, one’s with a hinox, if you’ve got some sort of death wish, don’t know for sure about the third.”

“Is anyone injured?” she asks next. None of the villagers answer.

“Okay, good. Link, does the map still work?” she turns to him; he swipes over to that screen on the slate and gives her a thumbs up.

“Whoever knows where the orbs you know about are, come mark them on the map for us,” she orders. Hesitantly, one of the villagers steps forward. Link shows him how to set a pin, and he places two.

“We are going to get off this island,” Anna declares, firm, leaving no room for argument, “All of us. If that means playing that voice’s game, then we play. Mipha, Wolf, stick with Link to find the orbs. No one goes anywhere alone. Hans, you’re with me. We’re going to see if we can’t find the resources to build new rafts. Villagers—either stay here and stay safe, or help gather materials, I’m not picky.”

Most of the villagers sit on the sand.

Three make their way to Anna’s side when Hans does.

One, the one who helped him with the map, remains with him and Mipha, hands on his hips like he’s daring them to say he can’t help.

“I can fight,” he says, stubbornly, even as the group looking for raft-making supplies disappears into the woods, “Just—not a blue hinox. On my own.”

Link sighs. This whole mess is bad enough without having to worry about some random villager who says he can fight—without knowing how true that actually is. But. Mipha is a healer, and he and Anna have been scavenging for their supplies since they woke up on the Plateau, mostly. The monk that designed this challenge clearly didn’t care how many people other than Link got caught up in the magic, if it’s been going off every time someone steps foot on Eventide.

If he could actually talk to the monks when getting the spirit orbs, if they didn’t just give the same speech over and over and over and then disappear, he would give this one a piece of his mind, he knows that already.

So, overall, he’s kind of angry enough that he’ll overlook the fact that the monk clearly wanted him to work alone and he’ll let the guy help, unless he proves himself more of a liability than an asset.

“That fire, further down the beach,” Mipha points at the smoke, “Is that more villagers?”

“No, a couple of bokoblins,” the villager says, “They’ve got some bomb barrels, so we’ve been steering clear.”

Link grins and switches the slate to remote bombs, summoning a round one into his hands. What a perfect place to start getting some gear.

***

Getting out of the woods was easy enough; a few of the koroks had helped her. Aryll smiles and waves back at them—they’re such nice little creatures. So sweet and kind.

The problem, she decides—other than her sense of direction—is which way to go from here. She could have stayed in the forest, she supposes; Link would have had to come for the sword, eventually. But she wants to help her brother and Lady Anna sooner than later. So.

Where to go?

The Domain? That might be a good place to start—Link always loved the Domain. But, she thinks, seeing Vah Ruta, Mipha’s Divine Beast, with its targeting laser trained on the castle—what if he’s already been and gone?

Back home to Akkala? Mama always said that if she didn’t know where anyone else was, she should make her way home. But what if the farm is gone? What if home is gone?

Not the castle. Not Castle Town, either. Granny told her before she left to stay away from them, that things would be worst, there. She’s not going to risk that. Not anytime soon.

Kakariko? Things were okay, there, when she left, when Princess Zelda and Lady Elsa took her to the Deku Tree. The fighting hadn’t touched the Sheikah village, not then. Sheikah live a really long time; maybe Miss Impa or Miss Purah is there! They’d remember her, and they’re both important enough that Link and Lady Anna would have to go to them at some point, right?

Kakariko, she decides, checking her compass before she squeezes her heels and Epona sets off towards the sunset at a steady trot.

***

Armed with a spear and a tree branch each, and a single sword between them, Link, Mipha, and the young man they’ve learned is named Numar make their way to the small monster camp with the first orb, the wolf at their heels. All three bokoblins are armed with bows, they note; if they can salvage those and some arrows, that will be a good start against the hinox.

Mipha is—quite upset, actually. Oh, Link and Anna had told her about their century-long healing slumber, the fact that they had fallen on the Blatchery Plain. She had come to terms with the fact that they were brought back by something other than her own healing powers, as they should have been. She should have been there, not in Vah Ruta, her promise to always protect Link just as unfulfilled as her duty as a Champion. She really had accepted that. She’d been ambushed, after all, and that was not her fault.

But that was before she had seen the scars, on both of them. Littering their torsos. Deep cuts, burns—visual evidence of just what they had suffered. Neither seems self-conscious about it, but she—

If she had been there, if she had healed them, there would be no scars. Or nothing so horribly extensive, anyway; perhaps some, from the worst of the wounds, she will not say her power is perfect, but—she has never left a scar before, and she does not think that would change too terribly much in the scenario as she imagines it would have happened.

And she sees them, sees those marks on the bodies of her beloved and her friend, and she hates herself, just a bit. She is a warrior, she always has been—but she was a healer, first. Is a healer, first. She had seen Vah Ruta and felt a need to be the one to pilot her—but what if that was, ultimately, selfish? If she had allowed someone else to be Champion, then she could have dedicated herself to her healing. Could have been useful, instead of being trapped in stasis for a century.

What if, what if, what if—what if it’s her fault, that Hyrule has been in this state for so long? If she had been safe, outside of Vah Ruta, back then, she could have brought Link and Anna back from the brink in a matter of—well, given the extent of their injuries, more likely hours or even days than minutes. But they could have freed the Divine Beasts then. Could have put a stop to everything then. If only she had been the one to heal them.

***

They take the first orb up to the pedestal near where the villagers are camped—partially because it’s the one pedestal they actually know where is, and partially to check on the progress of the raft supplies team. He has to use cryonis, to get it close enough to the pedestal that he can throw it in, but he suspects that’s part of this monk’s intention.

It looks—to him, anyway, not that he knows much about making rafts—like the biggest problem Anna’s team is having is going to be sails. They had, at least, found an axe somewhere on the island so they could gather wood for their project, and several of the villagers who had initially sat out are helping tie that wood together with vines.

The next task is climbing to one of the high points of the island, to see if they can figure out where the third orb and both other pedestals are.

The good news: the missing orb and one pedestal are in sight as soon as he crests the lower ridge of what’s called Koholit Rock on the slate’s map, although the pedestal is blocked off by a large, flat rock and he’s going to have to use stasis to get it off before they can use the pedestal, which means he’s going to have to probably trash the durability of his spear in the process. So maybe it’s only half-good news.

The bad news: it’s surrounded by at least five bokoblins and a blue moblin. Their weapons supply is still awful. There are bomb barrels—he could cause some chain reactions with the remote bombs, again. But. Getting close enough to set them without being seen is a bigger issue, because what’s the use in setting off a chain reaction if the monsters are chasing him rather than caught up in the blast?

Okay. Well. The moblin is the biggest problem, physically and metaphorically, as far as this group of monsters goes. If he can lure it towards the edge of the cliff, maybe…

“I hope you have some sort of plan in mind,” Mipha hisses as she makes it over the top of the ridge, Numar behind her. He looks back, sees the wolf pacing below.

“We have to get the moblin away from the rest of them first,” he replies, low; in a situation like this he would rather be using sign, but Numar doesn’t know enough to make that work, they’d discovered during the last fight. He is, at least, a good enough fighter not to be a liability, “Ideally we’ll be able to back it off the cliff, and if the fall doesn’t get it, the wolf will.”

“And if we can’t back it off the cliff, we’re at least not also surrounded by bokoblins,” Mipha replies, sounding thoughtful.

“Right,” he agrees.

Then he starts walking towards the monsters, careful to keep to cover as much as he can so he only lures the one he wants.

***

They can’t work through the night, unfortunately, and they still aren’t sure where the third pedestal is, so they return to the beach and the rest of the villagers.

“How are things going with the orbs?” Hans asks, holding the raft’s mast—still without sail—in place as one of the villagers secures it. It will only be enough for a few people to possibly escape, but maybe they’ll be able to make more than one raft, if they’re lucky.

Mipha can hope, anyway.

“Two are done,” Link says, “Just the orb with the hinox to go. We want to know where we have to put it before we get into a fight.”

“And we only have thirteen arrows,” Mipha frowns; they don’t have many weapons, either, all things considered, but the ability to target a hinox by its weak point will always be invaluable.

“We’re going to try and send the people who’ve been here longest off in the morning,” Anna says, nodding at the raft, “Once we figure out making a sail, anyway.”

“We’ll get it done,” says one of the villagers, nodding, sharply—the one that had complained about them being more mouths to feed, unless Mipha misses her guess, “Unless the magic that stole our original rafts decides it hates this one, too.” A few of the villagers are looking at Anna approvingly, Mipha notices.

She always was a better leader than she gave herself credit for. Willing to do whatever it took for whoever needed her help. Maybe, now—without the memories of constantly comparing herself to Elsa—Anna will allow herself to see that strength, in herself.

If only because Mipha is absolutely certain that if Anna’s plan actually works, and they manage to get off the island, the stranded villagers are going to start actually singing her praises.

***

There’s another area with some height to it near where the Hinox sleeps; Link’s first plan, for morning, is to go up there and see if they can’t spot their last platform, since they hadn’t from Koholit Rock.

Sneaking past the hinox is easy.

Finding the platform, covered by crates that the magnesis rune can push aside, is a gift.

But it’s guarded by a camp of monsters, which includes electric chuchus.

Which means using a few of their precious arrow supply so they don’t get within range of those chuchus and their dying discharges.

Once the monsters guarding the platform are taken care of, they only have ten arrows left—and it’s time to take on the biggest threat on the island.

“If we can get the orb off the hinox while we’re still fighting it,” he says, looking straight at Numar, “Grab it and run for the platform while Mipha and I keep it busy.” It’s a testament to how  eager the villager is to be of use that he nods immediately, no hesitation.

***

Chessica has been running the Fishing Resort for most of her adult life.

It isn’t, perhaps, the most stable income—travelers aren’t particularly common, these days, what with the amount of monsters that roam Hyrule, not like her great-grandmother’s accounts of when they used to be a busy, booming business—but it is one of the most important sources of income for their community, and she’s proud of what she does.

She’s never seen anything like the sight, two nights after the blood moon, that greets them all. A small flotilla of rafts, coming into the harbor, all of their missing villagers—the ones who’d gone to Eventide over the last few weeks—returning, led by the four tourists who had stayed two nights ago, and their wolf. The Hylian siblings, the brother’s Zora fiancée, and their other Hylian friend that she suspects shares a mutual interest with the sister that neither has caught on about it being mutual.

Looking at them, those rafts, she lets out a breath of laughter—incredulous, maybe, but so real and so happy that she can’t hold it in.

When they arrive, the villagers—Rozel’s boy Numar, especially—start going on and on about the tourists. How the sister took charge, how the brother and his fiancée put themselves in danger without hesitation in order to figure out the puzzle that some ancient left in place on the island that had been magically active and stealing everyone’s supplies and rafts, the reason no one had come home. How as soon as that puzzle was solved, everyone’s things were returned to them, the rafts back along the shoreline.

She looks at Kiana, and her oldest friend nods at her. They’re going to reward those kids.

***

In the morning, before they leave Lurelin—they’ve decided to head for Vah Medoh, next, that they’ve put off freeing another Divine Beast for long enough, and Rito Village seems to have the mildest climate, and therefore is what they’re most prepared to get to—the woman who runs the resort shoves a crate into Link’s arms, with an envelope on top.

Hans takes the envelope, opens it; a golden rupee and a necklace with a blue sea-glass pendant are inside. Anna takes the rupee and places it in their coin purse. Hans, so gently that Link feels weird watching, fastens the necklace around Anna’s neck, commenting softly about how it matches her eyes.

Then they open the crate; it’s full of fresh seafood, porgies and snails and crabs all in a big heap. Together, they transfer those to the slate; it’s a very generous bolster to their food supplies, and Mipha thanks the innkeeper profusely, on behalf of all of them, before they take their leave.

Chapter Text

“You’ve learned as much as you can,” says a voice. His father? Master Kohga? He isn’t sure, whirling around in the darkness, somehow it’s unclear which he hears, “It’s obvious what has to be done. Kill the girl.”

No. No. No. He can’t, not her, anything but that, anything else, not her.

He spins, looking for light. Looking for her. All he sees is darkness, darkness, darkness—

“Hans?” her voice is soft, behind him, and he turns, needing that glimpse of light, that hint of the sun, and she gasps and—

There’s blood on his hands, his sickle. Her blue eyes are wide, staring at him, accusing, light fading. No. No!

“Mipha!” he cries out, “Mipha, help her, please!” He cradles her in his arms, tries desperately to staunch the bleeding, “Stay with me,” he pleads, “Anna, stay with me. You have to. I— Mipha! Help!”

“Y-you said—you w-wanted to—to h-help,” Anna breathes out, barely manages.

“Stay with me,” he begs, again, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. You have to stay with me, until Mipha gets here. She’ll make it better, you know she will. Just stay with me, Anna.”

But she doesn’t. Doesn’t stay with him. He feels the moment her breath stops. Only then does Mipha arrive, golden eyes flashing with hatred.

“You killed her,” the Zora Champion says, flat.

“This isn’t what I wanted!” he repeats, desperate, begging. All he wanted was to see her smile. All he wanted was to see her safe. This is—this is the worst kind of punishment, of torture. To know that she’ll never smile again, and it’s his own fault.

Link and the wolf appear. Link’s sword is at his throat, in an instant.

He doesn’t care. If she’s gone, he is nothing. Less than.

The wolf snarls.

Darkness consumes him again.

Hans wakes up, shuddering to consciousness in his bed at the Outskirt Stable. Just a nightmare. Just a horrible, horrible nightmare, he assures himself, eyes seeking out the bed across the room that Anna had claimed, where she still sleeps peacefully. He doesn’t even have his sickle, he left it with Lars. His waking mind knows the nightmare is impossible.

(Runo’s sickle is stored in the slate, he remembers, the thought entirely unhelpful, not quite so impossible as it should be.)

The wolf, despite being Link’s gift from their patroness, is curled protectively at her feet. Good. Another layer of protection, for her. Another way in which she’s safe.

In the night air, a birdsong rings. One not native to this area of Hyrule.

A signal.

No point ignoring it—he won’t be sleeping again tonight, not after that. He leaves his pack on the bed, since it’s still his for the rest of the night anyway, and heads out. If anyone thinks it odd, well, he’ll just bend the truth; he had a nightmare and needed some air.

He follows the birdsong up the hill behind the stable, making note of the shrine, for Link, and then questioning his instinct to do so, in helping in such a way when he doesn’t need to, when he’s already certain, by now, that Link and Anna both believe he’s thoroughly on their side. It isn’t far before his eldest brother appears in front of him, in his usual civilian guise. The only similarity between the pair of them is the color of their hair.

“Rudi’s pissed about the arrow you put in his knee,” Caleb says, “He’s about ready to kill you for it. You’re lucky Lars had already passed on your plan. Master Kohga says we’re not to interfere with you.”

He keeps his face carefully neutral. Can’t let his brother see the terror that spikes with the fact that Master Kohga has taken an interest in his plan. The way it’s too close to the nightmare, too fresh. He knows where his loyalties lie. Who he’s meant to be. Doesn’t he?

“Rudi will recover,” he says, shrugging; it’s unfortunate but true, “I could have aimed somewhere a lot worse, and I’m sure he knows it,” sadly, even if he had, the twins still would have managed to retreat—they’re slippery, that way, he knows them too well—and they would be unlikely to obey the don’t interfere order, “If you’re not to interfere, why are you here?”

“Because your message about the Zora Champion made no sense. What do you mean alive?”

Caleb actually sounds baffled. It isn’t even that complicated.

“I mean,” he says, slowly, “That when the heroes defeated the Calamity’s creature inside of Vah Ruta and placed the Sheikah object they’ve been carrying around on the main control unit to reset the whole thing, it revealed a chamber within the Divine Beast where Champion Mipha had been in stasis. Alive. Not dead, as previously believed. She’s down at the stable, you can see her for yourself if you don’t believe me,” no need to bring up the fact that he helped in that fight. Although if the suspicious look on Caleb’s face is any indication, he might have guessed, “She says that if she had died, the Divine Beast would have shut down entirely so the Calamity couldn’t use it either. Likely, the other three Champions are in similar states.”

“We’re working on making Vah Naboris… Inaccessible,” Caleb replies, vague, “Anything useful, you keep passing on. Father was—impressed,” words he would have loved to hear, just a few short weeks ago, that fill him with dread, now, “By you taking some initiative. Just don’t forget yourself and get attached.”

Too late.

***

While Link completes the shrine up the hill from the stable that Hans says he noticed while taking a walk after a nightmare, Anna lets one of the workers, a man named Toffa, tell her all about the wild stallion possibly descended from Zelda’s horse that’s supposed to be near the ruins of Sanidin Park on Safula Hill—which happens to be on their path to Rito Village, according to the directions that one of the other workers has given them.

Hans had suggested they try to get some more horses. It might be nice for Zelda to come out of the castle and be greeted by something familiar, right? Or, well, sort of familiar, anyway. Not her horse but close. And—Anna doesn’t think Zelda would mind them borrowing her—future—horse for a bit. Optimistically thinking. And maybe following his suggestion will cheer Hans up?

She’s—worried about him, actually. Not in the same way as before, when he wasn’t traveling with them. It’s just—he’s barely looked at her all morning. Barely spoken all morning.

Like his nightmare—changed something, maybe.

She doesn’t want it to have changed something. She doesn’t want him to decide that he doesn’t actually want to travel with them, help them. It feels selfish of her to even think, but she just—she wants him around. She wants him to stay.

With her.

She puts a hand on the necklace from Lurelin; he’d said it matched her eyes. He’d seen it in that envelope and thought it should go to her. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

But does it mean enough?

***

For all his travels across Hyrule since he was first tasked with gathering information at the stables, he’s never actually been through the Sanidin Park ruins before. They’re hardly in the worst state, of Hyrule’s many ruins, he notes.

“What was this place?” he asks. Even if Link and Anna don’t remember, surely Mipha, currently seated with Link on the white horse they’d only just barely managed to soothe enough to bring with them, will.

He gets no answer. Looks to the three heroes; Anna has slipped off of Kjekk, is walking towards the horse statue with a look on her face he doesn’t recognize, from what he’s seen of her so far, the wolf trailing her carefully. Link is busy cooing to the white stallion, soothing it further so it doesn’t bolt on them. Mipha is watching Anna, clearly concerned. Since he’s concerned, too, it’s only fair, he supposes.

***

As they ride south, intent on meeting Zelda and Link at Sanidin Park, Anna looks over to Elsa. Her sister is clearly nervous, gloved hands clenched tight around the reins of her horse.

“Arendelle will be fine while we’re gone,” she says, softly, hoping to ease Elsa’s mind, “It’s just a few days. Zelda needs us.”

It’s their cousin’s birthday, tomorrow. She’ll be seventeen.

Finally old enough to pray at the Spring of Wisdom on Mount Lanayru.

“I’m not worried about Arendelle,” Elsa argues, “The council has more than proven they can lead the city, since we lost Mother and Father. And if anything—unexpected—happens, I’m sure Kristoff will step up and help in whatever ways he can, he’s been nothing but a dependable friend, since we’ve known him. I’m more concerned about Zelda. She’s pinned so many of her hopes on Mount Lanayru. I’ve been up there regularly over the last few years, you know that—and I’m no closer to understanding this gift that Lady Nayru gave me, my ice, than I ever was. I’m… Unconvinced… That prayer will ever be the answer.”

Anna rolls her eyes at the entirely unnecessary mention of Kristoff. He’s a friend, yes. But if Elsa’s so convinced he’ll make a wonderful suitor, she can see him herself, rather than trying to push Anna towards him all the time.

“She has to at least try, you know that,” Anna says, “And maybe it will be different for her. With… Since she’s tied to both Lady Nayru and Lady Hylia.”

Elsa sighs, shakes her head.

“Maybe,” she agrees, “I hope it is. I hope—I just hope that we—that we figure things out in time.”

In the distance, she sees them—Link and Zelda, heading north along the road to meet them. She smiles, bouncing in the saddle as she waves at them, before urging her own horse into a trot to meet them all the sooner.

***

The strange look on Anna’s face passes, and she blinks, rapidly, as though trying to clear her vision of something.

“Anna?” he questions, “Are you all right?”

After that nightmare, he almost feels like he doesn’t have the right to worry about her. Like he isn’t worthy of it. But he can’t help but worry. The affection he feels for her is too firmly rooted to shake out. Has been, from the first moment.

Now, between the awful dream and Caleb’s visit, he only hopes that he doesn’t destroy the both of them.

“Sorry,” she says, “I just—remembered something. From—before.”

From a century ago. He’s tried not to think about that. About the fact that she’s from an entirely different Hyrule than he’s ever known. It’s easy to forget, most of the time.

She returns to Kjekk, getting back in the saddle as though nothing had happened.

“Do you need to talk about it?” Mipha offers.

“It was—no. Nothing. Just—Elsa. And I. The day before—Zelda’s birthday,” Anna shakes her head.

“The day before the Calamity,” Mipha says, something knowing in her tone.

“Yeah,” Anna agrees, “It would have been—one of the last times that I saw her, I suppose.”

She was on Blatchery Plain with you when you fell, he thinks, recalling the legend—the legend he recounted to them, before they went to Kakariko, when he still believed she and Link were just a brother and sister, traveling to broaden their horizons—but holds his tongue. Somehow, he doesn’t think that will reassure her at all. Besides, she isn’t wrong, especially if one qualifies it as one of the last peaceful times she saw her sister.

“You’ll see her again,” he offers, instead. He’s—not supposed to want that for her, perhaps. But the role he’s playing—the version of himself that feels less and less like an act with every moment—believes in her, doesn’t he? Would say it, and know it to be true, because she’s entirely too determined to help save Hyrule ever to fail.

“But I won’t be the same Anna that she remembers, when I do,” she says, looking to him. It’s not sadness, in her eyes, not exactly, “How can I be? I don’t remember who that is. Not really.”

“I remember,” Mipha says, “And you’re still you, Anna. Elsa will see that too.”

***

Ridgeland Tower is surrounded by lizalfos and electric wizzrobes, but they need the map.

Since most of the lizalfos seem to either be electric, themselves, or wield electric weapons, they decide that the wolf will stick with Mipha as a guardian, rather than Link trying to convince her to stay back with the horses.

Probably a good thing, Anna decides. The pair of them don’t need to have the same fight about how much he wants to protect her again.

She volunteers to stay with the horses herself, though. After that memory of Elsa she’s in no headspace to be fighting, even if her bangles from Farore would be helpful here, probably—she still doesn’t actually know how to use them, and, besides, someone has to keep the rather unhappy white stallion from bolting, since he’s not likely to take well to being left alone.

Although—Farore never said she couldn’t let anyone borrow them, she thinks, and pulls one inlaid with topaz off of each wrist, has Mipha wear them for the time being. It can only help.

The stallion, temperamental as he seems so far, doesn’t dislike them, she doesn’t think, because he’s been especially sweet to Link. He’s just—used to being free. That’s not so hard to understand, when she thinks about it.

“You’ll like Zelda,” she promises the horse, as she feeds him an apple. Her memories aren’t coming back as quickly as she would like, but she just—feels like she knows, somehow, “She wanted to be free, too.”

***

Dusk is falling as they arrive at Tabantha Bridge Stable. It’s been—far too long of a day, in Hans’ opinion, for the Stable Master, Dabi, to be asking them to name the white stallion. Which is, perhaps, something they should have discussed on the road—but of course they didn’t.

For a moment, they all stand in silence.

Then Dabi prompts them again, sounding impatient, and Anna just blurts out “Krumkake!”

The horse in question tosses his mane, proudly, like he’s showing off.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Dabi asks, looking at her like there’s something wrong with her, like she’s, as some scornful people would put it, strange. It—irritates him. That look, directed at her. She is—different, from anyone else he’s known. Excitable, optimistic, kind without expectation, fierce without hesitation. None of that is a reason to look down on her, as Dabi is clearly doing.

“Krumkake,” Anna repeats, quite a bit surer, nodding.

Dabi shakes his head and writes it down, before he has some of his workers collect the three horses, for the night. Link heads off to the shrine visible on a cliff behind the stable. Mipha is mobbed by a group of children that must live at the stable who have clearly never seen a Zora before.

And Hans and Anna are—left to their own devices, generally, although with the way the wolf glues itself to Anna’s side one might wonder if Link had ordered it to act as a chaperone, somehow.

She groans, blushing a deep red as she flops onto one of the seats near the cooking pot, burying her face in the wolf’s fur where the pair of them sit.

He can’t resist joining her—and it’s better that he doesn’t resist, because otherwise he’d be trying to figure out how to make Dabi regret looking at her the way he did. But he doesn’t push, either. She’ll say something, or she won’t.

“It was the first thing that popped into my head,” she mutters, eventually, “He was looking at us like we were wasting his time and—I panicked.”

“It’s not your fault we weren’t prepared,” he says, hoping he sounds soothing, “We should have been thinking about it earlier. That’s on all four of us.”

She lifts her head from the wolf. She’s not quite smiling, not yet, but she looks far less unhappy than she had.

And then, nearby, a man starts muttering to himself about a Great Fairy—and Anna’s attention is suddenly on the stranger.

“Do you know where the Fountain is?” she asks the man, interrupting him.

“Not exactly,” he shakes his head, “There’s a rumor that it can be seen from the tower that rose in Tabantha,” he points across the bridge to the tower in question, “but I could never make the climb.”

The stranger looks at them, contemplatively.

“You look like you could make it,” he says, slowly, “I—saved up materials to make an offering. Would you take it to the Great Fairy, for me?”

“Yeah!” Anna agrees, quickly, “Yeah, we’re actually—on a pilgrimage, of our own. Looking for the Great Fairies and the Springs of the Goddesses. It wouldn’t even be out of our way!” It impresses him, how quickly Anna comes up with that story, when he knows the actual purpose of their journey. When he hadn’t even been aware the Great Fairies were something that the heroes were interested in.

The stranger smiles at her and hands over a pouch that bulges oddly. He’s more trusting than Hans would be, in his position, proven particularly when he says “It’s—a diamond. And two star fragments,” since both of those things are worth a fair amount of rupees, on their own, “Please make sure it goes to the Great Fairy.”

But, he thinks, as Anna smiles and assures the stranger we will, he might believe her too, if it were him.

***

As soon as they cross the bridge into Tabantha proper, they see a problem: a flying Guardian, patrolling the canyon road.

They take the horses right back to the stable. Getting to Rito Village, or even just Tabantha Tower, it seems, will require getting a bit… Creative. With their route.

Working together, all four of them manage to make the climb to the top of the canyon’s right-hand wall; somehow, the wolf manages to get there before them. He is, Anna supposes, not exactly a normal wolf, being help from Heroes that Came Before, and all. When they crest the top they can see a dragon, in the distance. Not Farosh. This one glimmers like fire in the sun, and the name Dinraal pops into Anna’s head even more suddenly than Krumkake had.

“Well,” Link says, staring at the dragon, “Guess that means we can get the scales for the next Spring sometime while we’re in this area.”

But not now. Their first priority has to be the Tower, then the Great Fairy, then Rito Village and Vah Medoh.

Then they can think about Dinraal.

This tower is surrounded by monsters, as the Lake and Ridgeland towers were, but worse, Malice, as well, all over the mountainside and even on the tower itself. Still; by midafternoon, sore from more climbing than even she had expected out of this trip, they’ve made it to the top.

Only to see that the Great Fairy’s Fountain is back the way they came.

“Really?” she asks, of no one in particular, staring at it with narrowed eyes, “That guy at the stable couldn’t get there?” It’s not fair of her, she knows; he hadn’t known the Fountain’s location. He couldn’t have known that getting to the tower to climb it would mean going past his actual destination. She’s just—they still have no real idea how long they have until Zelda and Elsa won’t be able to hold back the Calamity any longer. Every moment spent going back the way they came feels like a waste.

On the opposite side of the canyon, they can see from atop the tower, is a shrine.

“So we’ll backtrack a bit,” Mipha says, her tone even, soothing, “We can camp at the Fountain, tonight, and head for the shrine in the morning before going on to Rito Village. I’m sure the Great Fairy would enjoy the company.”

They glide down to the Fountain. Underneath them, Anna sees the wolf take a massive running leap from the mountain the tower is on back across the gap to the other side. Definitely not as normal of a wolf as he sometimes acts.

Link is the one to approach the fountain-bud, this time.

“Boy…” says a voice—not unlike Cotera’s, but not quite the same, either, “Sweet boy… I am the Great Fairy Kaysa. This place, long ago, was a beautiful spring. But so few people have come, with offerings, over these years, and my power has abandoned me. I beg your help, child. If only I could have—luminous stone. Amber. And… A hearty truffle—my power would be restored. And once I am restored, I can help you on your path to greatness.”

As with Cotera, an entreating palm makes its way out from between closed petals; Link shrugs and pulls the three requested items from the slate, placing them in the waiting hand.

It’s a scene similar to Cotera’s reawakening—petals bloom, and the Great Fairy bursts from the water, laughing happily. Kaysa looks different to her sister—pink hair, darker skin—but similar, too, butterfly wings behind her ear, an outfit of shimmering seashells and jewels.

Anna thinks they’ve met before. More than once, even.

“Link!” Kaysa greets, staring at him, in front of her, then her eyes find each of them in turn, “Mipha! Anna! And—oh, I don’t know you,” she gets a wicked grin on her face as she looks at Hans, and Anna—grabs his hand, on instinct. Kaysa’s expression softens, at the motion, “You already helped Cotera, didn’t you, lovelies? I can feel her power, strengthening mine,” she continues, “Good. Come on, now, let’s see what I can do to enhance your clothes, children.”

“Oh, uh, first,” Anna digs out the pouch from the man at the stable, “We met a traveler who wanted us to give you this.”

Kaysa takes the pouch and looks inside.

“Oh, these are gorgeous,” she says, pulling out one of the star fragments, “Such power they hold! Oh, I wish I could take them. But you should save them,” she puts the fragment back inside, hands the whole thing back, “My eldest sister, Tera—she’s in the worst state of all of us. She’ll need an offering like this, to come back from the brink. Keep them. For her.” 

Chapter Text

“I thought I made it clear that I am not in need of an escort!”

He’s used to Princess Zelda’s—ire, by now. He’d gotten the sword at 12, been dealing with the Royal Expectations of Him ever since. King Rhoam’s expectation that he be The Perfect Knight. Princess Zelda’s expectation that he Leave Her Alone, somehow, despite having been appointed, alongside Impa, to guard her. Lady Elsa’s expectation that he attempt to talk her sister out of training—an expectation he has ignored entirely, because Lady Anna is easily his favorite of the royals, because her only expectation of him is to be her friend.

Still. His eyes flick behind the Princess to where Impa and Lady Elsa have both been watching her try and break into this ancient shrine. She already has an escort. Is it such a hardship for her to let him do his job and be a part of her entourage?

“It seems I’m the only one with a mind of my own,” she fumes, hands on hips.

“Zelda!” Anna, having just ridden up behind him, gasps at her cousin.

The Princess, however, ignores it, keeps going on her chosen tirade.

“I, the person in question, am fine, regardless of the king’s orders. Return to the castle, and tell that to my father, please.”

He knows most of her frustration isn’t actually with him. She’s refused to get to know him well enough for that. It’s with him having the sword, with her not having her powers, with the shrines being sealed so tightly that she can’t get a single one of them to open so she can see what’s inside because she burns with curiosity about it, with her father dismissing her interests, and worse, dismissing her, herself, constantly.

It still stings, that she lets that frustration turn into hatred over something he didn’t have any control over—he got lost! In the woods! He found a sword! It’s not like he went out looking for it to spite her!—as she stomps past him, towards the horses—then whirls on him, behind her, as though he wouldn’t need to go the same direction to get back to his own mount—the warhorse that the King has him use even though he’d really prefer to be riding Epona—if he were going to go back like she’s ordered and yells “And stop following me!”

He holds his tongue. The people who actually matter to him know he’s not—mindless, like she said. Mipha, Aryll, Anna, Granny. Bazz, Rivan, Gaddison, Kodah, Kayden. Purah, Robbie. They know him. They care about him.

Even if Princess Zelda doesn’t.

“Link?”

For a moment, Anna’s voice doesn’t make sense to him. Is it the present? Or the past? Is she calling out to him because he went blank with a memory, or because the Princess was—unkind? Mildly, anyway. Rude, but like being threatened by a blupee, not a cucco.

As many memories as he’d gotten back during their stay in the Domain, he hasn’t seen much of Zelda, not really. At the east gate of Mount Lanayru, he’d known they were friends. That he wasn’t just with her to protect her, but was actually fond of her, rooting for her.

This memory—she had hated him. Or at least he had believed she did. He had tolerated her, because he had to, because it was his job, because Anna was his friend and she loved her cousin and wanted him to see the best in her.

When had that changed? How had that changed? Farore had said their memories would come back eventually but this is—he’d rather just remember than keep getting these inconvenient flashbacks that barely give him anything.

“Dear?” Mipha’s hand finds his arm, her gentle touch pulling him fully back into the moment, the present.

He looks at the shrine. In the memory, it had been—like a dead thing. None of the lights, currently blazing orange in the morning sun, had been lit up at all. Which makes sense—how many times have they heard, since they woke up, that the shrines all came to life when the towers rose?

Then he looks at Mipha, and—maybe he shouldn’t ask the question that burns suddenly. Maybe he should let the memories come back on their own. Gaddison had said that Mipha was insecure about Zelda, after all.

But maybe, he thinks, not asking, just continuing to let himself wonder, would be worse for them in the long run.

“Did Zelda hate me?”

Mipha’s eyes go soft, full of concern.

“At first, she—resented you, yes,” she says, “Because you had—stumbled upon your destiny. She and Revali both would have called it without any effort, and perhaps they might have had a point about what led you to find the Sword that Seals the Darkness, but you had been training, for years, harder than anyone else I knew, in order to hone your skills. You did put in so much effort. The story of how you found the sword, though—it made her feel all the more inadequate about how little success she had with her own abilities.”

She pauses, remembering something.

“When she asked me to be the Zora Champion, she refused to even say your name. But… You saved her life, in a Yiga attack, and it changed things. That’s when the rumors started—about her being in love with you—mostly, I think, because of how drastically her attitude shifted. I… Don’t know. If there was anything to those rumors.”

“Well,” he says, lets out a breath, “I don’t know how she felt, either. But I know how I felt. I was yours.”

“I also know he was yours!” Anna puts in, “I was going to lock you in a room together until you admitted it, if we won.”

Of course she was, he thinks, and then he grins at her, eyes flickering between her and Hans—whose back is turned, keeping an eye on the flying Guardians below—just enough he knows she notices, before he signs nice plan. Might have to borrow it.

“Don’t you dare!” she hisses in his direction.

Hans turns away from keeping watch, and though he looks at Anna first—confused about her response to Link’s teasing, probably—he does look to Link when he speaks.

“Did you want to do the shrine now, then, or save it for later? When you aren’t fresh off a flashback?”

Well. A puzzle ought to take his mind off things, let him focus.

***

“Talus!” Anna calls; the warning isn’t entirely necessary, given that the suddenly awakening monster is directly in the road, but it gives Mipha enough notice that she’s ready when Link hands her a spare bow from the slate and a handful of bomb arrows. Link switches his sword out for a sledgehammer, then runs towards Anna and Hans, handing the slate off to the pair of them.

Anna pulls another sledgehammer out.

Hans summons a remote bomb.

Destroying this thing may only be temporary, until the next blood moon, but it will at least make the roads a bit safer, for a time.

***

“Welcome to Rito Village, where the men are fine archers and the women better singers!” says the Rito at the entryway to town. Link—doesn’t think anyone used to say that, before. Judging by the taken-aback look on Mipha’s face, he’s probably right.

“That’s—a weird thing to brag about,” Anna says, looking at the Rito, “I mean, why can’t the women be archers? Why shouldn’t the men sing? And why is that the thing to advertise about your town? Why not how pretty Tabantha is? Or how you’re at the gateway to the Hebra mountains?”

The Rito—Link thinks it’s a smile, although the beak makes the expression hard to read. The laugh, however, seems amused, “Not an average Hylian, are you, Miss? It’s what most of the tourists want to hear, so it’s what we say. We all train at both, as children, though most will pick one or the other to focus on eventually. Our finest singer, Kass, is on a trip around Hyrule, or I’d suggest you meet with him while you were here.”

“We were actually hoping to meet with the Elder,” Mipha cuts in, “I believe I remember hearing, a long time ago, that—the higher in the village, the higher the social standing? Is that true?”

“Somewhat, yes. Keep going up and you’ll find Elder Kaneli, our chieftain. And if you’re going to be staying in Tabantha or Hebra for any amount of time, you’ll want to head to our outfitters, The Brazen Beak. Finest cold-weather gear in all Hyrule.”

“Thank you, very much,” Mipha replies, nodding.

And then they start their trek upwards.

Most of the villagers seem welcoming enough, although they also grumble about Vah Medoh and how it’s preventing them from flying the way they’d like to, that they have to stay low or risk getting shot out of the sky. If any of them think three Hylians, a Zora, and a wolf are an odd bunch of traveling companions, none say anything, or even really glance at them twice about it.

They make note of The Brazen Beak’s location; they probably will need warm clothes to deal with the altitude when they get to Vah Medoh—however they manage to get to Vah Medoh.

Eventually—after many, many stairs—they’re as high as the village goes. In the Elder’s home, they’re greeted by a jolly older Rito who reminds him of an owl.

The Elder begins to welcome them to Rito Village, before he notices the slate, in its usual position on Link’s hip, and immediately assumes—correctly—that Link is one of the Champions, before talking himself out of that assumption by reminding himself that the Champions died a century ago, and deciding Link is descended from—himself? He was 17 and pining over Mipha when the Calamity struck. When would he have possibly had a family to be descended from?

“Elder Kaneli,” Mipha interrupts, as firm as he’s heard her in a while, “Hard as it may be to believe, your first guess was not so far off the mark. I am Mipha, princess and Champion of the Zora. Until recently, I was trapped, in stasis, within Vah Ruta. He is Sir Link—Hylian Champion, appointed knight of Princess Zelda, and my own intended. This is our dear friend, Lady Anna, of Arendelle. Sir Link and Lady Anna were healed of their grievous injuries by Sheikah technology and recently awoke to resume their quest to aid us all. We have come here hoping for your assistance—so that we might help tame Vah Medoh, and, with any luck, rescue Champion Revali, as I myself was rescued.”

The Elder, clearly stunned by this announcement, simply blinks at them, for a few very long moments, before tilting his head and looking at Hans.

“And in this company of legends, who are you?” he asks.

“I—Just Hans, sir,” Hans says, bowing his head respectfully, “I’m—new. To the saving Hyrule business.”

Elder Kaneli lets out a hooting sort of laugh, at that answer, before growing serious, again.

“As soon as I saw that Sheikah Slate,” he says, “I intended to ask your help, with Vah Medoh. That you are already here with such intentions is a blessing I shall not question, Champions and friends. My most headstrong warriors, Harth and Teba, already made a boarding attempt. Harth was injured, though he shall, at least, recover. Teba, I fear, plans to make another run, alone. Please, speak with his wife, Saki, find out where he’s gone, and convince him you might help.”

He sends them to the residence next to his, where an exasperated Rito woman points them towards a place called the Flight Range, and says that the largest landing in town—Revali’s Landing, as it’s called—will provide them a straight path with their paraglider. But, she adds on that while the Flight Range is not in the Hebra Mountains proper, it is cold enough, year-round, that they’ll need either warming food and elixirs or the cold weather clothing that the guard at the village’s entrance suggested.

And Link—looks to Revali’s Landing, while she speaks, and is drawn into a memory, again.

***

He’s in Rito Village because Princess Zelda is in Rito Village.

The Princess is in a meeting with the Elder. He ought to be in the room, it’s part of his job, but the Elder had sided with the Princess in sending him away. Had insisted that his own guards would be more than capable, should some Yiga manage to infiltrate the village and attack the meeting. And here, the Elder’s word is more important than King Rhoam’s.

He stares at the Divine Beast. If he had some octorok balloons, something to use as a platform, and a bit more height to start with, he might actually be able to get up there, he thinks. Planning. He has a feeling that Princess Zelda will more than likely to have Revali take her up there while they’re here, and neither of them will want him to be there. That neither of them will help him do his job and be there. Unfortunately, he doesn’t think the villagers will take well to him climbing the town, he doesn’t keep platform materials with him, and he donated all his monster parts to Kaysa on his way here, because the Great Fairy can make better use of them, most of the time.

“Where’s Zelda?” he turns to see the ladies of Arendelle; Elsa is the one that asked the question.

“With the Elder. In a meeting,” he says, “Not sure how much longer she’ll be.”

Elsa shakes her head and sighs before she heads back down the village’s stairs towards the inn.

Anna stays with him, smiling encouragingly.

“Zelda will get to know you eventually, and then she’ll like you,” Anna says, “She’s too stubborn to admit it now, but she’s also too curious not to ever try.”

He’s about to tell Anna his idea for getting up to the Divine Beast—he thinks she’d like it, actually, and want to test it out sometime when they have all the things they’d need—when the wind kicks up, a massive updraft, and then, from below the landing—

Revali appears.

So, the Elder’s guards on the meeting don’t even include his best warrior. How very not-fun that’s going to be to report to Impa.

The Rito Champion stares at him, coldly as ever.

Then he starts going on about his own achievements. His gale. His archery. Both of which are impressive, Link doesn’t know anyone who would argue that point.

But Revali—just as bragging and bitter as Link has known him to be in every interaction—is also insisting that he could probably beat back the Calamity on his own, when it comes, and complaining about the fact that the plan relies, heavily, on him and the sword.

Link didn’t ask for that. He didn’t want that. All he wanted was to—live his life. Maybe move back to the Domain when he can. Spend time with his friends. Be normal.

But Destiny said otherwise. The sword said otherwise. Lady Farore said otherwise. And he knows, what it is, to have a duty, and he is more than willing to fulfill that duty! But he’s sick of this sort of attitude—of people hating him for things that weren’t his choice.

But he doesn’t respond, as Revali baits him. Keeps his face blank and neutral.

Even when the Champion taunts him about how he can’t get up to Vah Medoh on his own—maybe he can’t, right now, but he’s got a reckless plan and some spite brewing in his heart so give him some time and he’ll do it—he doesn’t react.

He doesn’t need somebody like that as a friend. Somebody who makes no secret of how much he scorns everyone who isn’t himself. Link doesn’t think Revali even respects Princess Zelda, not entirely. Maybe a bit more than he does the rest of them, maybe, for how hard she works, but her having been born to status almost entirely negates that, for the Rito Champion, doesn’t it?

“Do you have to be such a jerk all the time?” Anna asks Revali, before he can get in what, from the look on his face, was going to be his parting shot.

The Champion doesn’t respond to that with anything other than a sneer, before he turns back to Link and calls “Good luck sealing the Darkness!”

***

Mipha watches the way Anna’s face falls as she counts out the rupees for their new cold-weather gear, and considers if they ought to go back to the Domain and ask her father for some travel funds. Honestly, she should have thought of such a thing before they left, but she hadn’t realized how much more expensive everything would be in this changed Hyrule. Money for food isn’t a particular concern, between foraging and Link’s skills at cooking, but clothes, arrows, stays at the stables—it all adds up, quite quickly, and that’s before taking into account that she knows Anna is trying to save up to purchase that house.

It’s unfortunate that this purchase is necessary, she thinks; relying on meals and elixirs would mean having to constantly watch that the effects not wear off. And, as after they finish with Medoh the plan is to find Arendelle’s ruins and see if they can locate whatever Elsa told Impa she had left for Anna, having the clothing will be useful, in the long run.

The selection of clothing that will fit her, as a Zora, isn’t particularly good, all told, although at least there is a selection. She’s—unused to anything beyond her Champion sash and her jewelry, but her people are not made for the extreme temperatures of Hyrule, either hot or cold, and while cold is the more comfortable, from deep swims to gather fish, she opts to err on the side of caution and selects a down-lined tunic with wide enough sleeves to accommodate her fins in a blue that matches the sash that Zelda gave her, once upon a time, and a lovely and warm magenta cloak that matches the one that Anna selects. For the rest of her own outfit, Anna has selected another dress—dark blue skirt, black bodice, and long, light blue sleeves, with embroidered floral details throughout. Link and Hans each get a set of what the shopkeeper calls their signature line, Snowquill, Link’s in a dark red and Hans’ in a muted grey.

Properly outfitted, they make their way back up the village to Revali’s Landing, and head for the Flight Range from there.

***

“If Elder Kaneli sent you to talk me out of bringing down Medoh, you can go ahead and leave now,” Teba says, not looking up at the visitors who’ve arrived at the Flight Range.

“He sent us to get your help with our own plan to stop her rampage, actually,” says one of them. He would laugh at the presumption of these outsiders, if the situation weren’t so serious. Instead, he turns to face them—and nearly laughs anyway. Three Hylians—two of whom are tiny—a Zora who appears, from her height, to be somewhere in her adolescence, and a wolf. What kind of joke do they think they’re telling?

“Excuse me?” he asks, staring at them.

“We tamed Divine Beast Vah Ruta and saved Zora’s Domain from flooding,” says the Hylian girl, “Now we’re here to help with Vah Medoh.”

Either they are very committed to some sort of scam, or they actually mean that, he thinks, watching as the rest of them remain serious in the face of such an outlandish declaration.

“For argument’s sake, let’s say I believe you,” he says, “What’s your plan?”

“Board Medoh, use this,” the smaller of the Hylian men pulls a Sheikah device off his hip and holds it up, “to reset all the terminals inside, beat the creature that’s got control right now, and if we’re lucky, rescue Champion Revali.”

Rescue—

“Champion Revali has been dead for a century,” he scoffs.

“My family believed the same, of me,” says the Zora, “I don’t find it so extraordinary to think my fellow Champions might be able to be saved.”

Scammers, he decides, even if the Sheikah object is a nice touch that almost convinced him. Probably is what convinced the Elder, come to think of it. But—no way that she’s the Zora Champion from a century ago. Not that there’s much point in outright accusing them of such.

“Well, seeing as there’s only one of me, I don’t see a way for all of you to get up there. Sorry. Besides, no one is boarding as long as the shield is up. Unless one of you can prove you’re good enough with aerial combat not to be a liability—five targets in three minutes—I’ll take my chances alone.”

The same Hylian man that had spoken, the one with the device, puts it back on his hip and draws a bow—a decent one, Teba notices. Not as solid as a Rito-made bow by any means, but Zora silver isn’t bad.

“Five targets. Three minutes?” he asks. Teba nods sharply, curious. What lengths do they plan to go to for this scam of theirs?

The boy takes a running leap into the updrafts of the Flight Range, his first arrow soaring into the target in front of him before he opens a paraglider and angles himself for another shot. And another. And another. His five shots are all made in less than half of the time that he was given, and Teba feels his mouth hang open.

“Good job, Link!” calls the other Hylian man.

Link? Teba swivels to face the three strangers and the wolf that are still behind him. The Zora claimed she was her people’s Champion. Princess Mipha, theoretically. Link was the Hylian Champion’s name.

Is it possible? Could they be the heroes they claim to be? And if they are, who are the other two Hylians? He thinks some of the legends had Lady Anna of Arendelle supposedly being healed in some secret place alongside Champion Link, which would be an explanation for the girl, but who is the other?

“I still can’t carry all of you,” he says, rather than gape.

“You won’t have to,” says the Hylian girl, kindly, “You just have to help get Link aboard. He and the Sheikah slate will do the rest.”

***

He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know the moment that Medoh’s cannons engage.

Someone is trying to board. Again. It’s the second time, recently. Whatever Rito is out there is a fool, he thinks. Brave, yes. He’ll give them that much credit. But even if they disable the cannons and bring down the shield, they can’t do anything to stop Medoh—to stop the Calamity’s creature inside Medoh—without the slate that Princess Zelda carried everywhere.

So they’re brave, but ultimately a fool. He’d thought the previous boarding attempt, which had failed with only minor damage to each of the cannons, would have dissuaded them from trying again.

And yet. The cannons are—

Going offline? One by one, slowly, each cannon judders to a halt. Could the fool be making progress?

Revali can’t move—this cursed stasis chamber has seen to that. But he strains his awareness, tries to connect with his beloved Medoh, to feel what she does, to maybe, maybe get a glimpse of what’s going on.

He can’t connect fully, like he could before. The thing that ambushed him in that horribly dark night is too far into the system. But he can feel—

The shields are down! They actually—

A bright spot, clear of the Windblight’s toxic influence, connects to Medoh, just for a moment, enabling the ancient Sheikah travel gate that they’d never managed to get to work. The slate! The Princess? Is that possible? After all this time? She never let anyone else touch the thing, except for, on rare occasions, Purah.

He tries, even harder, to connect to Medoh. If he could just—just sense—

A voice rings out. So loudly even he can hear it.

His voice. But not.

“Well now, I’ve seen that face before. I had a feeling you would show up eventually, but making me wait a hundred years is a bit… Indulgent.”

Goddess-forsaken, thrice-blasted, son of an Eldin ostrich! The Windblight is using his voice!

“You’re here to wrest control of Medoh away from Ganon, correct?”

Finally, finally, his senses snap into Medoh’s. The voice from Windblight is saying something taunting about a map, about the guidance stone, but he—he focuses on the newcomers. One is a white-feathered Rito. He must be talented, to have gotten up here, to have dared to try. The other, mucking about with Zelda’s slate, is the Hylian Champion.

Link. Ugh, Revali would rather have anyone else aboard Medoh.

And then—Link disappears in a wash of blue light, leaving the Rito behind.

Only to reappear, moments later, with others—Lady Anna, Princess Mipha, a stranger, and a wolf.

Well. Maybe, with that much help, the Windblight will fall, today.

Chapter Text

Blight here did the same thing as Water-blight, Link signs, as soon as everyone is aboard, used Revali’s voice. Trap.

“We knew we’d have to fight it,” Anna shrugs, “It’s that thing that should be worried. Let’s get started.” She’s—as it turns out—not particularly fond of knowing that, if things go incredibly wrong, they’re so far off the ground as to make even their paragliders seem like they won’t be much help. It’s strange, none of the other heights they’ve had to go to since they woke up have bothered her. But this—maybe it’s not the height. Maybe it’s the fact that Vah Medoh is in constant motion. She’s not entirely sure.

They head inside, Teba taking point and taking care of a couple of the eyes that are connected to pools of Malice. Another of the small guardians is between them and the guidance stone for the map; she and Mipha and the wolf tag team it while the others go on. Probably, any one of them could have taken care of it on their own, but better to distract it rather than let it focus on everyone else.

When the stone activates, the false Revali’s voice sounds. He’s—less unlike himself than the false Mipha was, somehow.

Although—maybe that’s unfair. She hasn’t gotten as many memories of Revali back as she has of Mipha. And the ones she has gotten back don’t suggest they were really all that great of friends, although something inside of her would hesitate before saying that they weren’t friends, only allies. She does believe they were friends.

But this is not the time to worry about that. They have a Divine Beast to reclaim.

***

Ten thousand years ago, there was a Calamity. These Divine Beasts were built to fight it.

They are standing inside of a ten-thousand-year-old machine that is keeping itself airborne, something that there is no modern capability of.

He’s never thought about it before, not really, but something strikes him odd, now.

After that first calamity, these technological marvels were buried, at the order of the then-King. and the Sheikah who created them were ordered to give up their technology and live simply. It’s the oldest tale he knows, because his people, the Yiga Clan, were the ones who rebelled. The Sheikah who refused to bend the knee after their technology won the day and saved the kingdom.

So why, he questions, suddenly, do they, too, have nothing like this? Why are the experts on this old technology members of the Sheikah descended from those who complied with that ancient order? The ability to replicate the slate alone is something that would, without doubt, be useful—imagine, if they could have claimed these Beasts before the heroes even woke—and yet…

Well, it makes no sense, does it? Surely some of his rebellious ancestors would have thought to take their technology with them. To teach younger generations their heritage. Maybe not anything overly conspicuous, but—something?

He frowns, though he hopes his companions take it as being disconcerted by the voice imitating Champion Revali, telling them there are only two terminals left, rather than his rather less innocent conjecturing. The only person he could possibly speak with about such things is Lars, and even then, perhaps, it would be straining his brother’s belief in his loyalties, which he cannot afford to do. Just because Lars is the most likely to understand or even be sympathetic doesn’t mean he’ll stand back and let Hans turn on the Clan. Not that he intends to, but even the suspicion that he might would be—potentially fatal.

***

The Main Control Unit for Vah Medoh is on the very top of the Beast. No walls surround it; falling from here would be all too easy. Link stands near it, slate in hand, wolf at his side, waiting for them to signal that they’re ready for the fight to come.

“At least we’ve got daylight,” Teba says, his bow in hand, “Rito night-vision’s poor enough I’d be a liability in a fight if we didn’t.”

“The Calamity struck at sunset,” Anna says—she remembered that, when they went to the first location from the slate to test Purah’s theory, “Revali would’ve come straight here…” she looks to Mipha, “and arrived in the dark, wouldn’t he?”

“To an ambush, at that,” Mipha agrees.

“The thing in Ruta mimicked you and your fighting style, when we were dealing with it,” Hans points out, “Was it like that in the ambush, too?”

“It was,” Mipha sighs, “It could match me perfectly with its spear-work. Worse, it had the capabilities with ice that I couldn’t match.”

“So whatever we’re about to face is probably going to mimic Revali, but with something extra,” Anna says, thinking, “Flight and ranged attacks. So our bows are our best bet—it won’t be likely to stay in range for anything else.” She mentally marks out the locations of a few updraft-producing turbines atop Medoh; if it tries to fly too high for them to reach, those will be useful, if terrifying, assets.

“Champion Revali is still considered the best archer our people have ever produced,” Teba puts in, “Facing something that’s meant to mimic him would likely be hard enough without knowing it has an extra capability.”

“But we have an advantage Revali didn’t. We aren’t alone. Or in the dark, for that matter,” she reminds. They spread out, form a loose semi-circle around the Unit. Teba positions himself near one of the updrafts, so he can launch into flight quickly, if she had to guess. Hans is to her left, Mipha to her right; Mipha has her trident in hand, rather than a bow, to start with, but the weapon has decent reach, so, probably it won’t be a mistake, exactly.

As soon as he sees them in position, Link touches the slate to the access point of the Main Control Unit, and a sharp-beaked Rito made out of Malice emerges, Revali’s bow in hand.

***

The Malice-made copy of the Rito Champion fights much as expected, taking flight instantly and using the stolen bow to send arrows at them. Teba’s an invaluable help, there, being able to take wing himself and harass the Malice-Rito into positions where it’s easier for the rest of them to target it. Anytime the creature swoops too low, Mipha and her spear get in a few expert jabs, or the wolf’s teeth snap at it—and somehow the wolf himself remains unharmed by the Malice, despite the fact that every other living being Hans has ever seen touch the stuff has gotten burned.

Eventually, perhaps a bit sooner than the Malice-Zora had, the creature shifts shape, growing, the bow clattering to the ground, discarded. The Blight’s new shape has stumps for legs and long, wicked arms, one of which ends in a mass of technology that he thinks must be something like a guardian’s laser.

It shoots off beams of energy from the cannon-arm occasionally, but prefers conjuring gusts of wind that hit like some of his brothers when they’re fighting angry instead of being strategic about things, as Hans learns the hard way when he’s caught by one and thrown halfway across—though thankfully not off—Medoh’s back. He hisses in pain; he thinks that cracked one of his ribs.

“I can wait,” he waves off Mipha, when she approaches, magic coating her hands as though to heal him, “Let’s get this thing down first, then worry about healing.”

“If you injure yourself worse—” Mipha starts to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I’ve sparred through worse with some of my brothers,” he insists. Jurgen, in particular, is easy to goad into making angry mistakes rather than smart plays, and taking a few disgustingly hard hits from him in exchange for winning a round isn’t that bad, in the grand scheme of things. The twins, on the other hand, are just cruel, and deliberate harm often is their strategy.

From the way Mipha’s expression changes, that may have been the wrong thing to say. That’s a we aren’t done talking about this look if he’s ever seen one. He’s going to have to come up with a reasonable story about why his brothers are beating him to the point of actual injury while sparring. Possibly also a reasonable story about why they spar, come to think of it.

Still, she goes back to the offensive, switching her trident for one of their bows and sending an ice arrow straight for the creature’s face.

***

Unlike Waterblight, this one doesn’t shift its shape again—instead, it summons four floating pieces of technology that it bounces its lasers off of, when it gets weaker. The laser-cage is more of a nuisance than a harm, and the bigger problem is that the creature is trying to float well out of their range and just let its new trick do all the work.

Clearly, Anna thinks, it doesn’t understand it is fighting five people. One of whom can still fly under his own power—although as the fight wears on, it focuses more on Teba than it does on Link—has it… Mistaken him for Revali? How intelligent are the Blights, she wonders? Clearly, the Calamity is smarter than they gave it credit for, somehow having made custom Blights for each Champion. Somehow having known exactly when Zelda’s spirits would be lowest, to attack. And the Blights have been able to use the voice of the Champion they’d each fought, trying to trick them. But does that mean that the Blights are smart enough to know, in a fight, exactly what’s going on? Especially when they’re weakened, closer to defeat?

The Blight sends a gust of wind directly at her. She holds her hands in front of her; a set of the bangles from Farore, inlaid with a shimmering green stone she doesn’t know the name of, glow as the wind reaches her, and she concentrates on that glow and—feels. As the wind gust responds to her, instead of the Blight. For a moment, as the wind swirls in front of her, a little tornado that’s all hers, she just grins, triumphant, a joyous little laugh escaping.

Then she pushes the wind right back where it came from. The Blight, caught off-guard by its own attack being used against it, spins out, dizzily, and her companions, all four of them, unleash a perfectly timed barrage of arrows that strike so closely together she couldn’t tell who was the first or last hit.

It doesn’t matter; it was the final little piece they needed, and the Blight dissolves into nothingness. Link, once more, touches the Sheikah Slate to the Main Control Unit, and Vah Medoh is, once and for all, free of the Calamity’s influence. Mipha starts healing their wounds as Medoh reveals the stasis chamber in which the Rito Champion has been confined, this last century, and Revali—over-dramatically, if you ask Anna—uses his signature gale to fly out of the chamber under his own power, doing a few loops in the air while he celebrates his regained freedom.

“He’s a kid,” Teba murmurs, staring at the Champion, “You’re all kids.”

He’s not. Entirely wrong, Anna supposes. Zelda was the youngest of them, just seventeen, just old enough to climb Mount Lanayru, when disaster struck. Link only a few months older.

Revali lands, before any of them can respond, and then he orders Medoh to her perch, upon the top of Rito Village. Those of them who can’t fly under their own power use the slate to teleport down safely; Teba stays with Revali.

They make their way back up the village to the Elder’s home, and arrive there around the same time as the two warriors, and Teba’s wife Saki. The Elder congratulates all of them, and she thinks that she sees tears in Revali’s eyes when Elder Kaneli tells him welcome home.

***

The Elder had insisted that they stay in Rito Village long enough for a celebration—of their victory, of Medoh being reclaimed, of Revali being alive. Hans manages, while the preparations for said celebration are underway, to slip away and leave another brief note about the progress the heroes have made on their journey. He also manages, through much more effort, to avoid allowing Mipha to corner him alone, as she clearly intends to do in order to speak with him about what he had said on Medoh, mainly by volunteering around the village to help with the  preparations.

Unfortunately, this means he also doesn’t get to see much of Anna, who gets dragged—rather willingly—into helping a harried Rito woman with five daughters distract said children so they aren’t underfoot for everything else.

But perhaps it isn’t really unfortunate, he thinks; he’s already too attached. He should be grateful for the distance. He should be using it to remind himself of his priorities.

He shakes that thought away as soon as it occurs. No. He hates the distance.

***

Anna spends the afternoon teaching Notts, Kotts, Genli, Cree, and Kheel—as she learns their names are within a few minutes of sisterly squabbling that makes her heart ache—how to make flower-crowns. Honestly, she barely remembers how to do it herself, at first, until it comes back like muscle memory and she drapes the first one on top of little Kheel’s head. The five sisters then insist on making one for each of them who went up into Vah Medoh and stopped her rampage; Anna herself receives their first attempt, one with pretty yellow blossoms. It’s a little lopsided, but she accepts gratefully and they all smile so brightly it’s the best part of her day. Easily. Even if they did just make some actual progress on their quest, it’s this.

As the sun sets, the party begins. The five girls disperse to hand out the rest of the flower-crowns, and Anna, still wearing hers, follows the sound of joyous singing out of town and over to the stable that’s nearest by. The workers there, and the Rito from town, have built an enormous bonfire, and many of the Rito are flying loops around it, celebratory. Revali is leaned up against the building, muttering things under his breath about how celebrating the Hylian Champion is ridiculous, but she thinks—is pretty sure—he’s grumbling for the sake of being grumbly. The girls gave him a flower-crown, too, white flowers that stand out against his blue feathers.

She finds Hans without even trying. Yellow blossoms, just like hers. When he sees her, something flashes in his eyes and she thinks—can’t help but think—maybe she’s ready. To see where these feelings that she knows are between them lead.

“Dance with me?” she asks him, soft, as the music changes from that joyous start into something… Half-familiar but half-forgotten, a melody she knows in her soul but not her mind.

He doesn’t let her go for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

“Are you going to come with us, Revali?” Princess Mipha asks him. He sends his best scathing glare her way. She’s fine. Lady Anna is fine, even. He is perhaps still not fond of their being nobility but as far as their personalities go neither offends him.

“You know full well the Hylian Champion and I would be at each other’s throats within a week,” he reminds. As—tolerable—as the man could be in small doses, when not acting the part of the stoic and perfect knight that most people seemed to expect from him—that had been all Revali had seen, for most of their acquaintance—he still isn’t going to subject himself to more than that, “No, my talents will be better put to use training others.” He manages to refrain from looking at the village, when he says it. The warriors it has are—good. Not him, obviously, but good. Medoh never would have been freed, he never would have been freed, without that Teba fellow, and if he’s any indication then Rito Village still knows their stuff.

But there are all sorts of Hylians out there who maybe want to be better able to defend themselves and their homes and their families, aren’t there? There have to be, he thinks. And if he can travel on his own, reaching those people, doing what he can to help them, then, well, that will be freedom well-spent.

“That’s very noble of you,” the Zora Champion says.

He scoffs.

“Do yourselves a favor,” he says, changing the subject, refusing to acknowledge the compliment, he has an image to maintain, thank you very much. He makes a show of staring across the bonfire at where Lady Anna is in the arms of that stranger, the pair of them looking ridiculously besotted, “Try to avoid any of the Talus in the mountains, on your way to Arendelle. I don’t know how long they live, but if any are still around that remember Kristoff, they’re not going to take kindly to that when she never gave their boy a chance.”

“I don’t believe he was actually raised by a Talus?” Princess Mipha says, hesitant. She had to have heard the rumors, though. Everyone had heard the rumors. The man himself had done nothing to discourage them.

“Oh, he was,” Revali nods, “I watched him talk a herd of pebblits into heading farther away from my Flight Range once. You haven’t seen anything truly ludicrous until you’ve seen tiny living rocks affectionately mob a grown Hylian.”

***

“We saw Dinraal on our way here,” Link says, to Elder Kaneli, while they’re still at the bonfire and still have the chance, “Do you know of anywhere she’s known to—frequent? One of our tasks is to present offerings at the Springs of the Goddesses.”

“Nothing specific,” the Elder says, looking thoughtful, “Only rumors. The most prominent being that Tanagar Canyon turns to fire in the mornings. It’s very near the Hebra stable, though the fastest route takes you straight through the remains of Tabantha Village, which is… Monster territory, now. No problem for the four of you, most likely, but still inconvenient.”

It’s better than nothing, he thinks.

***

Ever since Medoh, since he mentioned something about his brothers and sparring, Hans is avoiding her, Mipha thinks. At the victory celebration, this is perfectly understandable, given that he is clearly distracted by Anna, who has, if the way she looks at him is any indication, decided that she’ll be acting on her feelings, now.

Anna is, perhaps, braver than she is, in this sort of thing. After all, she had decided to wait until after the Calamity to act on her feelings for Link, and look where that had gotten them—they could have died without ever having their chance. Almost did.

On the road, in the morning, it is much less understandable. While there is no real opportunity to talk alone, given their small group, he somehow manages to redirect conversation away from himself every time she tries to steer it towards an opportunity to ask.

She’s worried about him. Anna had worried about his day of near-silence after his nightmare at Outskirt Stable, and it had certainly been unlike him, but this is different. This is—she thinks she’s seen this sort of deflection, before. When training with the healers to understand her power. There had been a child, a little girl, who refused to acknowledge the pain her own family had caused her.

One brother, she’s certain, he has few if any past problems with, the historian living in Hateno.

What of the rest? How many of them were cruel for the sake of cruelty, as she’s fairly certain they must have been? How badly had they harmed him, that he’d had worse than his injury from the Windblight, and still had to fight on?

She doesn’t like the conclusions she’s drawing. But he won’t talk to her, either. Won’t give her any kind of assurance that she’s over-reacting, that her conclusions are incorrect. Just a few sentences could put her worries to rest, she hopes.

But the more he avoids her, the more certain she is; something, in his home, was wrong.

***

Tabantha Village is just as overrun as the Elder had suggested. It frustrates him, to no end, the fact that any monsters they clear out will just be resurrected when the next blood moon hits. He doesn’t remember this place but it feels so—disrespectful. That there’s nothing they can do to stop the monsters that lie on its grave.

They make their way through the village, towards the orange-glowing tower, and—he hears the sounds of fighting, further up the hill. Most of the people they’ve encountered who were beset by monsters have needed help, so Link speeds up his own pace.

As he crests the hill, he sees Hylian girl and horse; the girl has two crossbows that she’s firing into the mass of chuchus that has her surrounded. The horse whinnies, rears back, and—

He knows that russet coat. The white mane. He—

“Her name’s Epona!” says the girl at the ranch. “After the horses of legend. She’s a bit particular about who she likes, but—”

The horse, still young, yet, comes over to him. Nudges her face into his chest and noses for his pockets like she expects him to have a treat for her. She… He knows her, doesn’t he? Has known this horse for his entire existence, somehow.

“This is the one I want,” he tells his father. She’s already his, in her own mind, he knows that too, but it’s been a few days since his eleventh birthday and his father promised him a horse and she’s the one. The only one.

“Hoi! Big brother!” calls the girl, waving at him, golden braids glinting in the sun. A pigeon hops onto her foot.

Aryll. She really is here.

He runs the rest of the way to her.

***

Aryll is just about ready to admit that she’s lost, again—she’s fairly certain it’s never this cold near Kakariko—when she spots her brother. He’s okay! He really is okay!

She finishes fighting the chuchus that are around her before she calls out to him, and then she’s getting hugged, so tight she can barely breathe. It’s okay, she thinks, because her brother is shaking and crying and obviously he needs the hug. She understands. She can let him have this. He’s the best brother, the strongest brother, but that doesn’t mean he has to be all emotionless all the time.

Three more people make their way up the hill—Mipha! And Lady Anna! And… Some guy who’s holding Lady Anna’s hand! He must be nice, she thinks, or Lady Anna would probably be more likely to punch him in the face than hold his hand. Even if she did always say that violence shouldn’t be used against people unless they’re Yiga, or something, and it’s the only way to deal with the situation because they attacked you first. But, if Lady Anna likes him, that’s enough for Aryll. There’s also a wolf, with them, and it growls at the bird friend that’s been following her for a bit, and she frowns at it until it stops.

“What are you doing here in the Hebra region, Aryll?” Mipha asks her, as Lady Anna wraps her cloak around her—which is really nice. She has been very, very cold.

“Well after I left the forest I thought I’d go find Lady Impa or Lady Purah in Kakariko, because they’d remember me and maybe know where Link is,” she explains, “Am I really in Hebra?” That’s… Super far away from where she was going, isn’t it?

“Why did you think it was so cold?” Lady Anna asks, and she shrugs.

“I mean, I knew I was lost,” she allows, “I wouldn’t have guessed Hebra, though.”

Epona nudges Link, and her brother grabs the slate that Princess Zelda used to carry around and pulls an apple out of it, handing it over to his horse, who nickers her appreciation. Which reminds her! She unslings the bag of equipment from over her shoulder and hands it over.

Her brother opens it up, reaches inside, and pulls out his spinner.

“What is that?” asks the guy she doesn’t know.

“A relic from the Hero of Twilight,” Mipha says, “Aryll. Did you pack everything your brother inherited from past Heroes?”

“Yeah, of course,” she nods, seriously, “That’s why Granny bought that bag for him. So he could have all his things, not just the sword, and the King wouldn’t be able to complain.”

***

Link looks up at the Hebra tower—surrounded at the base by massive spikes of ice that would be a pain to try and melt—and thinks he remembers a relic that might help. He frowns, rifling through the bag Aryll handed him until he finds—yes!—a pair of gauntlets with claws on the ends.

He slips them on, aims at one of the lower platforms that encircles the tower, and—is it memory, that guides him with activating the mechanism that tethers him to the tower by a rope, now, or is it instinct?

And if it is memory, is it his memory, or just something he has because of the whole Soul of the Hero thing? He doesn’t know if he has answers, to those questions. If anyone has answers, to them. Maybe Farore, but he can’t exactly take the time to go back to the Spring of Courage and ask.

***

“We should take you to Kakariko or Hateno,” Link says, looking at Aryll, but Mipha sees the conflict in his eyes, “You’d be safe with Impa or Purah.” But he wants to take her with them. She knows him well enough to know that’s the exact words he’s leaving unsaid.

“I want to help,” Aryll insists, “I’m not just a little kid who can’t do anything.”

She isn’t, Mipha thinks, and that’s almost part of the problem. Her crossbows are one thing—and a point in her favor, probably, as they’ll allow her to maintain a safer distance from anything they encounter than a melee weapon would. Her affinity for birds, the way they follow her, the way that any of them would go to war for her, is another entirely. A few cuccos behind her and she’d almost be something the Calamity should fear.

“I said should,” Link has half a smile on his face. Aryll has a bright grin, as soon as she understands what he means.

Mipha laughs to herself, at the distinction he’s made—should, not will—as she sits by the fire. Hans and Anna are gathering ingredients for dinner; Mipha would think there’s plenty in the slate, by now, but she also thinks they’d had… Ulterior motives. Plural. One in not being in the way while Link and Aryll have this discussion about whether or not Aryll is joining them or staying someplace they know to be safe.

And one, of course, in spending time alone together.

She pets the wolf as she watches the crackling flames; she still thinks she’d like to talk to him about what he’d said on Medoh, of course. But, having gone with him and Anna on their little ingredient-gathering date would not have afforded her a chance to. She’s going to have to be patient, in this. Wait for an actual opportunity.

When they return, Hans’ arms are full of fish, and Anna’s of mushrooms and herbs, all of which they take to Link, who starts cooking. Each says something to him that she can’t make out, although by the way Link rolls his eyes fondly and puts plates together she thinks she’s pieced together that each had a specific meal request.

Then the plates he’d put together on request go to the opposite person who’d requested them, Anna ending up with a delicious looking salmon dish while Hans gets a fragrant plate of steamed mushrooms—it looks like truffle, specifically, to her.

Oddly enough, she thinks, the only acknowledgement of the moment that either makes is smiling softly, at each other. Was it intentional, she wonders? Something they discussed? Or merely a spontaneous manifestation of their mutual affection? She’s reminded, of course, of a certain tradition. But, she decides, that similarity must be coincidence. Surely it would be more than just soft smiles, if that were the case.

***

Link wakes, early, to a roaring sound, and springs from his bed at the stable to the open doorway to see—

The canyon really does look like it’s on fire. The staff seems to think nothing of it, but he shakes Anna and Hans awake, remembering Farore’s words about how Hans should speak to Din, with them. He lets Aryll and Mipha sleep; this shouldn’t take too long, he wouldn’t think. The wolf doesn’t seem to think so either, if the way it pads from its spot at Anna’s feet over to Aryll’s is any indication. He makes sure the slate is at his hip, figures that once they have the scales, if they have to go all the way to the bottom of the canyon to collect them, then using the slate’s teleportation ability will get them back up to the stable again a lot faster and more easily than trying to climb. It’s maybe not as extreme of a circumstance as he’d rather save it for, but—well. The canyon is pretty deep. Several hours of climbing, at least.

Dinraal is different, to Farosh. Not just in appearance, but in—feeling. There’s still a sense of awe, about her, but—it’s more aggressive, somehow. And while Farosh had been waiting, for them, welcoming, almost, he gets a sense that Dinraal is far more reluctant to give her help. Maybe that’s the actual fireballs that fly at them, as she passes by.

She roars, again. The rumble of intense fire, the kind that consumes.

Fire is life, he remembers someone saying, sometime, ages past—in a religious service he’d had to attend, maybe? For it is warmth, in the cold of winter. It is the ability to cook our food. But fire, too, is death. Destruction. Fire is neither good, nor evil. That is why it is the element of the Red Lady—for power is neither good, nor evil. It is the intent of the one wielding it, which determines its purpose.

He pulls out his bow. Next to him, the others do the same.

One, two, three. Each of them fires, in quick succession, and a scale drops with each hit, glowing, into the depths of the canyon.

Chapter Text

Nothing about Hebra looks familiar.

She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised, by that, because of how few memories she has to begin with. But—

Hebra was home, right? Because Arendelle was home and Arendelle was in Hebra? So if this is where she grew up—shouldn’t some memories be sparking? Shouldn’t she at least feel like she knows this place? A vague sense of something, if not actual memories themselves?

But all she sees before her is just—snow-covered nothingness.

She forces herself to take a deep breath. Before she can spiral about her lack of memories. Before she starts to cry, because of how much she’s just. Missing. Still.

Another breath. Aryll, still borrowing her cloak, wraps her arms around her tightly, hugging her, as though she just knows that something is wrong.

Maybe she does. Maybe Anna is that transparent.

Link pulls up the map, on the slate. Most of the ruins around Hyrule are—marked. With what they used to be. Every single one is evidence of how they failed, 100 years ago. How they weren’t ready. How the Calamity took them by surprise. Every single one is a place where—where there still should have been people, now. Where Hyrule once thrived, and no longer does.

And she should feel worse about that, shouldn’t she? She does feel. Awful. She does. There’s no way around the fact that even without her memories, it’s—a weight. On her shoulders. On her soul.

But she also feels—disconnected, from it. From that past she doesn’t know.

And, perhaps even worse. When Hans holds her, she feels—not guilty at all. Because she wouldn’t even know him, if everything hadn’t gone wrong, back then. And a world where she doesn’t know him feels… Impossible. Unthinkable.

“It should be almost straight north from here,” Link says, showing the rest of them the words Arendelle Ruins on the map, “Just past where that stalhorse Juanelle was talking about should be.”

Hans grimaces.

“There’s—I’ve never been that far north before,” he says, “But I’ve heard rumors that there’s something like three lynels up in that general area. Strong ones. White-maned.”

“If we can avoid them, we avoid them. If we can’t—we work as a team. We’ve managed two avatars off the Calamity already. Not saying it will be easy, but. I believe in us,” Anna says, doing her best to project confidence in spite of the way that Hebra makes her feel.

The wolf treads through the snow at the front of their group, as they start to make their way northwards. In the blizzard that starts up, as they walk, he sometimes nearly disappears, save for flashes of his green-tinged fur.

Part of her thinks this is a bad idea. That they should—come back some other time. When the weather is clearer. When Aryll isn’t with them, because as fierce as she might be, lynels are—something else entirely. After they’ve gotten their audience with Din, maybe, because having the boon of a second of the goddesses can only be helpful.

Part of her knows that if they put it off now, it will be all the easier to keep putting it off, and never come back to Arendelle at all.

And whatever it is that Elsa left for her, she needs to know.

***

Having grown up in the Gerudo Highlands means Hans is used to cold, in some ways. Hebra is—far colder.

Which is, unfortunately, the nicest thing he can say about the region. He assumes if the weather was clear it would be scenic enough, but as things are it’s just—desolate. As much of a wasteland as the desert his childhood highlands border, but perhaps worse in that at least there was some color, in the sands, cacti, voltfruit, the occasional flower. All that Hebra has is endless white snow. The jagged mountains do give the region some shape, perhaps, that the mesas of the Highlands lack, but through the blizzard, visibility is reduced enough for that to be nothing more than theoretical.

Maybe the second-nicest thing he can say about the region, he allows to himself, remembering that the ruins they’re currently searching for are of Anna’s childhood home. That she is from Hebra. That desolate as it is, now, this place is a part of the reason she and her perfect smile are in his life, part of what molded her into the person that she is.

He takes a breath. Pushes that thought aside, forcefully. Heading into lynel territory is not the time to be distracted. And there are lynels, up in that area. He may have called it rumors, to the others, but given the source is more than a dozen Yiga scouts, over various trips they’ve all taken to the Hebra region, some of their parties not having come back at all, and only one of those scouts was one of his brothers—and that one was Anton, who can’t lie to save his life, not that any of the scouts would have a reason to lie about this—he’s fairly certain that they exist.

The blizzard clears, a fraction.

The ruins are—sprawling. He’s reminded of what he’s seen of Castle Town, though with no evident puddles of Malice. He supposes that if there was a terrible Malice infestation, the lynels never would have moved in, just as Castle Town is devoid of anything except for Guardians. Though—Ernst liked to claim that Akkala Citadel had both a Malice infestation and a monster one. He supposes he’ll probably see, on his travels alongside the heroes, given that one of the towers allegedly rose straight through the Citadel’s roof, per things Beedle had said to him before  he even met Anna and Link.

He keeps an eye on Anna, keeps close to her. If she’s struck by some flashback, like she was at Sanidin Park, she won’t be in any state to even notice if one of the lynels spots them, let alone fight it.

She reaches a hand out, towards him.

He takes it. Twines their fingers together. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be encouraging the—affection, that she clearly feels for him. His act doesn’t require this. He should keep being her friend, and nothing more, so that if she ever finds out what he is, what he’s done, it will hurt both of them all the less.

But he wants to. She wants him to. And he’s starting to think that perhaps he would do anything she asked, so long as it’s within his power to do.

So he does.

***

As night starts to fall, they take shelter in a building that’s still mostly intact. Four walls, at least half a roof. Door fallen off its hinges, windows blown out, it’s not a great shelter, against the snow and the cold. But it’s something.

Rather than set a fire and risk attracting the attention of any of the lynels—they haven’t seen any yet but one had certainly roared, in what sounded like the distance but must have been uncomfortably close, actually, given how the snow muffles sound—Link pulls the three scales from Dinraal out of the slate, carefully setting them on the stone floor of the shelter. They give off light and heat, as though they’re made of fire, but won’t crackle and pop like real flames do, or give off smoke, meaning they’re less likely to attract unwanted attention. Anna wonders if it’s a little bit blasphemous, to use them this way, but decides that she really doesn’t care, since they can only make do with what they have.

Once they’re all as settled as they can be, they pass the slate around, each of them selecting one of the dishes that are in storage for their meal for the night, since these aren’t exactly conditions where Link can cook.

Anna, bowl of pumpkin stew in hand, walks around the room, looking at what’s left of the furniture, staying well away from the windows. She just wants—just hopes—even if she was never in this particular building, before, that maybe something will spark some sort of memory. Some little piece of what she grew up with. Farore said everything would come back, eventually, that everything wasn’t gone forever. But—she isn’t the only one who’s forgotten this place. Hyrule has forgotten Arendelle. She and Elsa are the only ones left who have any connection to it, at all, and her sister probably at least has her memories but is trapped with Zelda, and—

Isn’t trying to remember the right thing to do?

“Are you all right?” Hans asks, quietly, coming up beside her with his own bowl of soup—cream of vegetable, she thinks, looking at it. One of the hearty radishes she picked at Lover’s Pond appears to be the main ingredient Link had used when he prepped it.

“I don’t know,” she admits. Looks over to where Aryll is raptly listening to Mipha tell her about Eventide Island, Link sharing his meat skewer with the wolf as he smiles at his fiancée and his sister. His real sister, something insecure inside of Anna thinks, even though she knows better, knows that he doesn’t care about her any less for not actually being related to each other, “I—want to remember. But I can’t force myself to, and…”

“Hoo-hoo, big summer blowout!”

Anna blinks.

“Did you hear that?” she asks. Surely there’s no one out here but them? But—it wasn’t like one of her flashbacks, either. She hadn’t had any vision of what used to be, had had her eyes on her friends the whole time.

“Hear what?” he asks, concerned.

“I thought—” she pauses. Bites her lip, “Lynel can’t mimic voices, can they?”

“Not that I know of,” he assures her.

“Half off swimming suits, clogs, and a sun balm of my own invention, yah?”

She closes her eyes. She definitely heard something, that time. An ache builds, pounding pressure in her head.

“Anna?” Hans questions, but he sounds far-away all of a sudden. She loses her grip on her bowl; the clattering sound of the splash is even further away. She tries to breathe but it feels jagged, shuddering.

She opens her eyes.

Half off swimming suits? In Hebra? Link signs, from his spot next to her, browsing Wandering Oaken’s supply of climbing gear, and occasionally looking warily at a jar of lutefisk. Her friend is kind of infamous among the knights for being willing to eat anything, but she supposes being willing to is not the same as actually being interested in.

There are some very nice hot springs on the mountain, she signs to him, trying not to snicker.

There’s a blizzard out there, Link signs back.

“Yes!” Oaken agrees, from his place behind the counter, “That is why we are having big summer blowout!” Link, startled, jumps, looks at Oaken, and then looks at her. This time, she does laugh. Really, this is Link’s first visit to Arendelle; he wouldn’t know about the shopkeeper’s more uncanny abilities. Like knowing anything that’s said in his shop whether he’s actually close enough to witness it or not.

“Kind of a tradition,” she says, “If there’s a blizzard, Oaken has a sale on the summer goods.”

This particular blizzard is, she’ll admit, a lot worse than most of the ones they get, even for Hebra. She has a feeling that Elsa’s magic is influencing it, if she’s honest.

It’s been a year, since their parents died. Since Father’s council took charge of the city until such time as Uncle Rhoam actually decides to appoint one of them as the official heiress. Assuming he actually makes a decision before Zelda turns seventeen and ascends her throne and makes the decision herself, in two years or so. Not that she isn’t already sure that it will be Elsa, just—Mother and Father hadn’t actually formalized that, before their unexpected deaths. So it will be up to the royal family, to decide. And Elsa’s magic is—erratic, sometimes. Influenced easily by her emotions. So if she’s mourning their parents particularly deeply, given the date, then it’s almost certain that Anna’s right, that it’s strengthening the natural blizzard.

The door swings open. The man who walks in is tall, and covered head to toe in a layer of snow. How long was he out there, she wonders, to be that coated?

“Hoo-hoo! Big summer blowout!” Oaken repeats, sing-song. The man ignores him as he starts grabbing items and tossing them over to the counter.

“Anna? Anna!”

She shakes her head, swears she heard a voice that sounds familiar but—no. She doesn’t know anyone who would say her name like that, does she? Like they’re desperately afraid, for her?

“Carrots,” says the snow covered man, staring at her and at Link. Both of them blink at him, and he points to the shelf behind them.

“Oh! Sorry,” she moves out of the way. He seems rather rude, she thinks.

“Anna?”

Her head feels like it’s going to split in two.

Her shoulders feel like there’s warm hands, holding them.

A cool wave that feels like Princess Mipha’s healing power passes over her, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Lady Anna?” Aryll sounds afraid, and Anna opens her eyes to see everyone looking at her like they’re scared. It’s Hans, whose hands are on her shoulders. Hans, who looks the most like he’s about to panic. One of Mipha’s hands is at her forehead, glowing with her power.

Her head still feels like it’s going to crack open.

“I’m okay,” she says, trying for reassuring. She feels like she’s been running, can barely catch her breath, “I think I just—accidentally forced myself to get back a memory and my mind wasn’t ready.” She looks around the room, again; she’s pretty sure this isn’t Wandering Oaken’s. What furniture is left just. Isn’t right, for the store.

Link steps up.

Good memory or bad? he signs. She considers, past the pounding of her head.

Just a memory, she signs back, shopping. Normal. There’d been some good to it, yes, laughing, having some fun, but it had been sad, too—thinking about the loss of her parents. About how Elsa’s powers were such a difficulty, for her. So she can’t really quantify it in the way that he’s asking.

***

In the morning, the blizzard has cleared up. The sun shines brightly, glimmering off the snow. Whatever block in her mind Anna accidentally broke through, she suddenly seems much more certain of their way through the ruins, nearly skipping ahead with the wolf.

They catch glimpses of a lynel, several times, through the wrecked buildings, but whether it’s luck or some sort of—Divine help, a possibility he cannot dismiss outright given everything Mipha’s taught him about the golden goddesses—it’s always looking away, when they do.

They reach the largest, most intact of the ruins around midday.

Anna stares up at it, and Hans reaches out, puts a hand at the small of her back. She turns her head towards him, at the contact, smiles softly.

“This was—the manor,” she says, “Official residence of the stewards of Arendelle. When the previous Lord passed without an heir, my aunt, Queen Zelda, appointed her brother to the role. Within a year, he’d met and married my mother. They had Elsa, and then they had me, and—my sister was blessed by Lady Nayru. And I—I was just—me.”

“I happen to like just you,” he tells her. It’s the truest thing he’s ever said to her, isn’t it? Everything else has been—veiled. Just enough to keep his secret. But that—there’s no hiding. No equivocation. No ulterior motive. No lie, in it.

In a different world, maybe that would be enough. Maybe they would find each other and—have no obstacles. Just Anna and Just Hans. He wonders, what it would be like. That other world.

In this world, well. There’s a chasm deeper than the Tanagar Canyon, between them, and she doesn’t even know it.

***

Her head still aches. But—she remembers more and more of Arendelle.

Of being left to her own devices for most of her childhood, while her parents tried and tried and tried to help Elsa understand her gift from Lady Nayru. Of realizing the only way she was going to not be alone was to make a change, herself, and deciding that what she was going to change was that she was going to train like a knight. Of meeting a quiet boy, Zelda’s age, with a destiny-granted sword and finally, finally having someone in her life who wanted to be around her, a friend.

Not that Zelda and Elsa didn’t want to be around her. But both of them got—very preoccupied, a lot of the time, about their powers. Controlling them, in Elsa’s case. Unlocking them at all, in Zelda’s.

Whatever Elsa left her, there’s only one place she might have left it.

Her room. It was her sanctuary, the one room in the whole manor that Anna wouldn’t just find it before she was ready to give it to her.

The manor is—only crumbling in places. A shell of what it used to be, but not a skeletal remain, like so many of the ruins they’ve seen since they started their journey. She can—almost see things, as they once were, almost. And as she traces a path to Elsa’s room, she knows she’s walked it a thousand times. More. Countless times. Trying to pull her sister out of that room and out of her own head, knocking on the door and pleading.

She stops outside the door. Stares at it. Almost unconscious of the motion, she raises her hand as though to knock—but pauses, before she can. Elsa isn’t in there. Knocking won’t help.

She pushes it open, instead. The inside of the room is—ice-damaged. Despite being completely intact. Windows, walls, roof, the room has no exposure to the elements. She knew Elsa had trouble with her powers, but she didn’t know it was—like this.

She steps through the door. Looks for anything out of place. It all seems…

She can’t even say normal, can she? Elsa never let her in here. She wouldn’t know. But aside from the frost damage, it just seems. Like a bedroom.

The one place she thinks there might be something is a chest, at the foot of the bed. She walks over and opens it, carefully; at the top is a silver shield, with a crocus flower design emblazoned in gold across it.

The Shield of Arendelle. It isn’t as famous, as—the Hylian Shield, she wants to say? But…

It was her mother’s, once. Well, technically her father’s, she remembers. It was—

A symbol. Of the position, Lord or Lady of Arendelle. It had been given to her father when he was given the position. He had given it to his wife, to her mother, on their marriage, because he was no warrior, but she—proud of her Sheikah heritage—was.

She thought it was lost, with them. How had—when had—oh, goddesses. Elsa must have found their parents. Somewhere out in the mountains, wherever it was they ended up lost. She had never feared the Hebra range, not like most travelers would. Had gone out there, from time to time, whenever her powers most overwhelmed her. She must have found them. And—brought back the Shield.

“There’s a note,” Mipha points out, gently, and Anna reaches for the paper, with her name on it, perfectly preserved.

Anna—

Uncle has ignored the duty to appoint one of us, officially, for long enough. I have spoken with Zelda, many times. We both agree.

The Shield is yours.

Use it well, my sister. You will be the leader, the protector, that Arendelle needs, far better than I ever could.

Chapter Text

“Have you felt them?” Elsa asks, quiet. Zelda turns to her cousin, smiles as reassuringly as she can.

“They’ve just been to Arendelle,” she says. She’d gotten a glimpse, of—Link. In Hebra’s snow, a sword that is certainly not the one he most needs to have, in hand. Anna. The Shield of Arendelle upon her arm for the first time as she raged at one of the lynels that desecrated her home. Mipha. Graceful as ever, supporting Anna with her trident and her magic. Aryll. Under the protective watch of the wolf with Link’s eyes and the red-headed boy Zelda doesn’t know who seems to be there every time she manages to look—he must be traveling with them, must have decided to help at some point, but she hasn’t seen enough to know anything else.

She can’t look often. Can’t afford to use her power that way and get distracted from the fight she and Elsa are in. They need to keep the Calamity contained. Long enough for the others to free the Divine Beasts. For Link to get back the Master Sword.

But she can—check. From time to time. Her abilities from Hylia are particularly attuned to Link, to finding him no matter where in Hyrule he might be. To making sure the knight is well, is making the progress he needs to. In particularly important moments she can even reach out her voice to him, as Elsa well knows, given that when they use that power together they can reach Anna, too, and they have, several times over these last few weeks. Only, however, when it’s truly necessary, can they risk taking that sort of chance. In this moment? A glimpse is all she can afford to take.

Elsa’s eyes close, grief evident in the way her expression changes, the way that things get colder, around them. She misses Arendelle, misses Anna, misses everything, and Zelda can’t blame her. Not when she misses Link and Urbosa and Impa and Purah and Robbie and her research and—well. Unlike Elsa, she supposes there isn’t a specific place she feels any particular ties to. The castle was her cage, is still her cage, more than it ever was her home. Her visits—to Kakariko, to Arendelle, to Gerudo Town, to anywhere, were always too brief to really make an impact on her, make any of them feel like home.

Maybe, once things are over, she’ll be able to find a place she feels at home.

But for now? Their fight takes precedence.

***

The Spring of Power is in Akkala. “Near the old quarry,” or so Impa had said, although Link is starting to realize how woefully inadequate of directions those are, as he looks at the map on the slate. If they had more of the towers activated, maybe, but he can’t even remember where Akkala is, and while Mipha and Hans had both confirmed it was the opposite end of Northern Hyrule, to Hebra, neither had known where within the region the old quarry might be.

Plus there are—other matters. If they cut east, and head towards the Spring, then Vah Rudania is practically on their way. Do they go there first? Or do they wait to see what Din has, for them, before heading there? Farore’s gift for Anna had come in handy, against Windblight. They have to assume that if Din does have a boon, to give, then it will be something that will help in some way. Even if only a small way.

The other thing, one of the bigger ones, is—as much as he wants Aryll with them, he also doesn’t want her in the Divine Beasts. And where would she stay, while they boarded Rudania? It isn’t as though they know anyone in Goron City who could watch out for her, while they go and fight yet another aspect of the Calamity for control of their third Divine Beast, for, as long as their luck holds, Daruk’s freedom.

“You said that Purah said that Robbie is in Akkala, didn’t you?” Mipha asks, tone patient even though Link has been staring blankly at the map for—he doesn’t even know how long, at this point.

“And that he’d have a use for some of our ancient parts,” Anna agrees with her, “Purah still wanted the cores but—we could see if he wants any of the rest of the stuff we have, couldn’t we?”

“And then Aryll and I could stay with him while the three of you go to the Spring,” Mipha proposes. It’s not a bad plan. And—he looks at Anna. At the shield that’s on her back, now, the one that’s a mark of her home, that’s a mark of how things were supposed to go, before. The Lady of Arendelle, only Arendelle is gone, now, and Anna remains.

They shouldn’t go straight to Rudania, he decides. She needs time, first. To process the burden that her sister had placed on her shoulders, by leaving that shield, by leaving word of that shield with Impa.

“We’ll head east,” he declares, “Pick up what towers we can, on the way, without getting too far off track. Figure out—where Robbie is, first of all.”

“What about Fi?” Aryll asks, rocking back and forth on her heels, a bit, “She’s in the Lost Woods, Princess Zelda left us both with the Great Deku Tree, before. If we’re going east, shouldn’t we see about getting her back?”

Fi… Why does that name sound familiar? It isn’t one of the Champions, the two that are left are Daruk and Urbosa. He doesn’t think anyone else has said that name, since he woke up. But he doesn’t have any memories that use it, either, and—Lost Woods. That’s. Impa said something about that place. About the Great Deku Tree being its Guardian. The Guardian of the Koroks. And of—The Sword That Seals The Darkness. Farore had said—you must regain your strength and reclaim your blade, Darling Boy. She sleeps with the Deku Tree, waiting for your return—and. She. The sword, his sword, in the Lost Woods, the one he first found at twelve years old. She. Fi.

But is he strong enough? To get her back? He’s stronger than he was, when they woke up, that’s certain, but will it be—could it be—sufficient?

“No one can get through the Lost Woods,” Hans says, though he sounds hesitant, “They’re bewitched. That’s the whole point. The reason they’re called the Lost Woods.”

“Link’s done it before,” Aryll tells him, nodding, “That’s how my big brother became the Champion! He got to the center of the Lost Woods and found Fi there and she picked him as her master.”

“And the royal family has ways to pass through,” Mipha adds, “Anna is of royal blood, even if she wasn’t directly in line for Hyrule’s throne. Between the two of them, we should be fine.”

“I—don’t know if I can get her back, yet,” he admits. Regain your strength and reclaim your blade. It has to be done, there’s no doubt about that. But is he ready? Can he be? “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try, on our way to Akkala.”

***

Before they head to the next tower, or into the Lost Woods, they stop at the Woodland Stable. There, they board Epona, temporarily, and put in a request that the rest of their horses be brought to join her, as it seems one of the services the stable association provides is that they’re a network, and any registered horses that are boarded can be moved between them—though it will take a few days, for the message to get to Tabantha Bridge Stable and the horses to be brought.

Now that there are five of them, Mipha thinks, having the horses when they can will be even more important. Not that, as a Zora, she’s particularly comfortable with horseback riding. She can; Link taught her well, years ago. And it will be easier, with Epona, because she’s the horse that Mipha is most used to, has always been most used to. But, alas, it still feels awkward and unnatural at the best of times, to her.

Those who would help save Hyrule, however, she thinks, ought not complain if it’s not always the most pleasant of tasks.

The first day, after their arrival at the stable, while, technically, waiting for their horses, they head towards the tower. It isn’t far, up the hill; one of the workers says that it’s in the middle of the old Military Training Camp, a place where she remembers all the people of Hyrule would send their warriors to learn from each other.

She never went, herself, but she thinks, when she sees it, that it probably was not a mire, a century ago.

They split into two smaller groups—herself, Link, and the wolf one, while Anna, Hans, and Aryll make up the other—and begin to sneak through the wreckage, taking out what monsters they come across. Several bokoblins sink into the muck, never to be seen again, or at least not until the next blood moon, and Link is in the middle of aiming an arrow at an annoying fire wizzrobe when she hears a mechanical whirring and a red beam of light appears to start targeting him.

Guardian, she thinks, remembering the experiments that the Sheikah had done with the ancient tech, remembering the tests she’d had to go through to be considered a worthy pilot for Ruta. The wolf barks and leads her to the thing targeting Link; it isn’t in particularly good shape. Missing its legs, covered in years of decay, but still alive, for whatever definition of life one wants to attribute to the technology, still functioning enough to be a threat.

It switches targets, as soon as the wolf attacks, to the canine harassing it. The wolf, however, is faster than its targeting system, and every time it fires upon him, he has already darted out of the way, and this—perhaps the most dangerous game of cat and mouse that Mipha has ever seen—is enough of a distraction that she, too, can attack the Guardian freely while Link focuses on the wizzrobe.

Fortunately, the disrepair that the Guardian is in means it goes down far quicker than the ones from her trial, so long ago. It is not, however, she thinks, a good omen that the thing was still able to wake.

***

Their second day at Woodland Stable dawns to a thunderstorm that dies, slowly, as they make their way up the road towards the so-called Lost Woods. He’s not sure what the line is, the demarcation, but one minute the sun is just coming out from behind the storm clouds and the next—fog. A heavy, soupy fog. In the distance, echoing, he hears laughter and—ocarina music?

Aryll shivers, next to him.

“It didn’t look like this when I left,” she says, “Maybe the koroks led me through a secret path?”

“Koroks?” Hans questions, little more than a whisper, but the sound carries, in the gloom.

“Yeah, you know,” Anna tells him, matching his whisper with her own, “the little plant guys with the leaf faces. Like at those block formations we had to make match with the slate the other day.”

“Any useful memory about how to get through?” Link asks, interrupting before anyone gets too distracted, “I only remember that I was lost, the first time. I don’t think that’s much use, here.”

“Ummmmm,” Anna hesitates, “It’s—yes. Do we have a torch?”

He pulls the one they have out of the slate, hands it over to her. Anna walks up to a brazier, in front of them, and lights the torch, holding it high.

“The embers, from the flames,” she says, “They’ll—the wind will blow them in the direction we need to go. I think. Pretty sure, anyway. I don’t—remember-remember. But I feel like Zelda told me that, once?”

He can’t say it’s a method he would have thought of, on his own, but, as Anna leads the way, it does—seem to be working, at least. Every once in a while the wind, and thus the sparks, changes direction so drastically he doesn’t think that going without them would even be possible, although, well, he knows that he must have. Once. When he stumbled upon the sword. Lost in the woods. He’s remembered thinking it about what happened, multiple times.

After what feels like eternity, the fog lifts. The forest air gets brighter, warmer, and suddenly they’re in a clearing, a massive tree at its center. He sees Hestu, and waves to the forest’s musician, and sees all sorts of other, smaller koroks peeking out, from behind things, staring at their party. Anna puts out the torch and gives it back to him, and Aryll has a bird on her head, again, as she greets some of the koroks, who cheer to see her. Mipha is slowly turning a circle, taking in the whole scene; Hans looks half-stunned. Well, he had thought the Lost Woods completely impassable, so that makes some sense.

And before the tree, in the clearing, a sword rests in a pedestal.

He knows that sword. Not in his mind but in his heart. Fi, he thinks, again. His sword.

He approaches, cautiously. He first claimed this blade when he was twelve. Surely he’s stronger now than he was at that age? Even after how much he lost that the Shrine couldn’t give back?

He puts his hands on the hilt, and gets—flashes. Zelda. The Calamity. Elsa. Nothing concrete. You are our best hope. Our last hope—and when he stumbles back, away, the tree begins a rumbling speech.

About how long it’s been. About how it had been getting impatient for him to return. About how Fi herself will test him, and he may not be worthy, as he is. About how trying to pull Fi, if he isn’t worthy, may kill him.

He has to try, though. Has to. So he sets his feet, grits his teeth, and places his hands on the sword’s hilt, once more, and begins to pull.

***

“Big brother!” Aryll cries, alarmed, and Mipha decides to intervene in her fiancé’s attempt to reclaim his destiny-bound sword whether anyone likes it or not, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pulling him away from the blade he once carried and will someday carry again, forcing him to lose his grip. His heart is racing and he’s gasping for breath and as she pushes her healing power into him she can feel how close to collapsing entirely he is.

“I can do it,” he insists, coughing. There are flecks of blood, on his gloves, when he lowers his hands, after the coughing abates. She pours more magic into him, seeking out all of the damage that attempt had done him, and reversing it, making it better, pulling him back from the precarious edge.

“Not now, you can’t,” she insists, “We’ll come back for her, later in our quest, after you’ve gotten more of your strength back. You are not dying on me before Hyrule is saved. Not for this. I won’t allow it.”

He slumps, in her arms, and if she didn’t trust her magic so much she would be worried that she’d lost him anyway. But she can feel him; he’s still with her. He’s just… Disappointed. In himself, more than anything else, if she had to guess.

“All will be well, Dear,” she murmurs, holding him close, “I have every faith in you. But you must respect your limits. And right now, the sword is out of reach. That will not, cannot, remain true forever.”

“There are shrines here,” Hans says, coming over to them; he points out one glowing just among the Deku Tree’s roots, “One of the koroks just told Anna that there’s three more that—they have trials, that they use as a measure of how grown-up they are, that involve getting to them. Basically dared her to complete the trials. I’ll go with her, we’ll scout them out while you rest, and when Mipha says you’re ready, Link, then you can get those done.”

“Thank you,” Link says, soft, and then he pulls the slate from his belt and holds it out, “If you two take the slate then you can activate the pedestals on the shrines, that’ll make my going to them easier. Plus you’ll have—extra equipment, if you need. And the ability to come right back to this shrine, if you activate it before you go and get into trouble on your way.”

Hans’ smile is a bit hesitant—she’s noticed, sometimes, that whenever he’s most helpful he seems most uncomfortable with being acknowledged as such, and like the words he said on Medoh she’s storing that observation away for when she gets a chance to speak with him alone—but he takes the slate, as instructed, and goes to join Anna and she knows that no matter what the trials involve the two of them will keep each other safe. They work together well, often managing a synchronicity she’s seen teams of warriors train together for months and not manage so fluidly. Between that and how deeply they care, about each other, they ought have nothing to worry about, within the woods.

“You should take Mr. Hero inside,” says one of the koroks, after the pair of them depart, “We’ve got lots of helpful things for him. Even a bed!”

“Thank you, little one,” Mipha replies, “Aryll, darling, will you help me get Link inside?”

Aryll nods quickly before she practically glues herself to Link’s side, arms around his waist with one of his arms slung over her shoulder. Mipha shifts her own grip on him, goes to the side opposite Aryll, and while she still makes sure to be healing him, to keep her power steady, they make their way underneath the Deku Tree’s roots, into what seems to be only the first chamber of a tunnel system that the koroks must use as their home. There are koroks that have set up shop, and koroks surrounding a cook-pot, and there is, as the korok outside told her, even a bed, of leaves and mosses. She and Aryll settle Link into it, though he protests. When he tries to get up, in spite of the condition he’s in, Mipha hisses through her teeth and the wolf comes running and drapes itself across his legs, trapping him. Aryll giggles at the spectacle and if she wasn’t so serious, right now, Mipha might do the same. Instead, as Link sags into the bed, she carefully brushes some of his hair away from his face, making sure her claws don’t catch him, and begins to sing him an old Zora lullaby.

***

The shrines of the Lost Woods completed, Link looks, once more, at his sword. His fingers itch with the urge to try again, to make one more attempt.

But after the last try—

He doesn’t trust himself to be strong enough.

“I’ll be back,” he swears, “After all the Divine Beasts are freed, I’ll come back.”

The sword seems to glow, in answer. Good, chimes a voice, in his head. Fi. She can still reach him, even now, it seems, at least this much.

He sighs, though, reluctant to leave. They have to go. As idyllic as the home of the koroks is, there’s too much to do, to tarry here. But he hates to go feeling like a failure.

Mipha looks at him, amber eyes shining with understanding, and she twines their fingers together. He pauses when someone takes his other hand—looks over to see Anna, smile encouraging. Hans holds her other hand; Aryll has Mipha’s. The wolf howls a song that reminds him, somehow, of flight, and—

He wasn’t strong enough. That’s true. And it’s also true, probably, that King Rhoam had only cared about the sword, before, enough of his memories are back that he’s fairly certain of that. But—

He’s more. Than the sword. And the people who actually matter—

Just because he isn’t strong enough, now, doesn’t mean they’re going to reject him. Doesn’t mean that they’re going to turn on him, decide he isn’t enough for them. Because that’s not what family does. And that’s what he has, unconventional though it might be.