Chapter 10

"What are you smiling at?"

Link shot to his feet at the sound of the Royal Blademaster's voice. His tutor - a big Hylian with rippling muscles known as Aspre - strode into the dim, bare room that Link called his home and glared.

Link swallowed. He hadn't even realised he was smiling – and, more importantly, how had Aspre even known…? Link really needed to remember to lock his door.

Bare stone walls, stone floor, and a single chest where he kept his things, Link thought of this cell - as the soldiers called their individual rooms – as his refuge from the never ending training, the place where he could indulge in his quiet daydreams. Fighting dragons, rescuing maidens – all the things he knew were silly but enjoyed thinking of nonetheless, sometimes more than he enjoyed the company of others.

The blademaster loomed above him. Link shrank back. He hadn't yet reached his full height yet; at eleven years old, he still had a few more years of growth for that. Aspre, on the other hand, had reached adulthood a long time ago.

"I…I was just…" Link's tongue stumbled, and he felt a flare of anger that he aimed at only one person: himself. Why could he never just explain himself…?

"Just what?" Aspre said. He folded his arms and gazed down with flinty eyes.

"Nothing, sir," Link replied. His voice sounded squeaky and childish in his own ears. He only knew this because the blademaster constantly reminded him of it. "It won't happen again."

"Better not," Aspre growled. "You should be practising, boy. Each and every minute of your tiny life. You think your Da sat around with his head in the clouds?"

Shame burned Link's cheeks. "No, sir."

He couldn't even look up now. He just wanted to crawl away – both from this whole situation and the tumult of emotions churning within.

Three years had passed since his father's death. Mother, silent with grief and a smouldering anger that Link hadn't understood, had followed soon after. The last two years he had spent in training, responding to the king's call to arms for the oncoming battle with the Calamity. Age didn't matter, or so the king had said, since one of them would surely be chosen by the Master Sword. The king said a lot - not that Link had even caught a glimpse of the royal family since he'd been here.

Link glanced up as Aspre draped a meaty arm around his shoulders. "Come on, lad," the blademaster said in a suddenly soft voice. "I only want you to be the best you can be. Hyrule demands it. And your Da – he was my friend and I want you to do him proud. I want the Master Sword to choose you."

"I know, sir," said Link. "Sorry, sir."

Being the chosen one seemed like being the centre of far too much attention. Link hadn't joined up for that, not truly. It was more out of a...compulsion, an inexplicable desire to help. Anyway, the worst seemed to be over now. He relaxed, his shoulders sagging.

And that's when Aspre's free fist shot out and into the boy's stomach.

Pain exploded in the pit of Link's gut. He doubled over, gasping, then dropped to his knees.

Aspre stood over him. "Sorry?" he spat. "You should be."

The blademaster then turned and left. The door slammed shut behind him.

Grasping the cold, stone wall for support, Link dragged himself to his feet. He cradled his stomach with the other arm and tried to ignore the throbbing pain there, the wetness on his cheeks and the shame and loneliness warring in his heart. All of it he wrapped up in a rage that he directed violently inward.

He'd been a fool. This wasn't the first time Aspre had sucker-punched him like this, and he still hadn't learned not to ever lower his defences. That had to be the lesson, right…? Link couldn't think of any other reason…

Aspre was right, though. Link was wasting time. This was all his own doing. And this snivelling didn't help, either. He had to be stronger than this. He had to set things right. They were going to head into their first foray into Zora's Domain on the morrow and Link was now determined to throw himself into whatever task his respected teacher set for them.

His gaze came level to the cell's solitary window. The rest of Hyrule Castle stretched out before him. The sun kissed one of its towers as it stood across the courtyard. Link felt a sudden compulsion to follow the tower's path upward with his eyes – up, up, up, until he came to a stop at a single, slim window where a small figure stood, looking out.

Link strained his eyes. He couldn't make out the face, but could tell from the clothes that it was a girl. A flash of golden hair made Link smile for a reason he couldn't quite grasp. His pain began to fade.

Here in this dark, dank cell where he stood all alone, Link clung to the belief that there was still beauty in the world.

/||\

Sleep.

In the ocean of its warm embrace, Link felt the last traces of the Guardian's electrical energy pulse through his mind. Like a torch in a stormy, oppressive night, it cast light on whatever it found deep in the darkness of his soul.

Long lost memories floated to the surface. A jumble of blurry, fractured voices emerged.

All he does is train…

Link's just barely out of childhood...and the sword chose him...?

Enjoy your first kill….?

For Hyrule, Link…

The voices swirled. He tried to grasp at faces to match them to, but nothing came to him. Another memory spoke.

Bury it deep inside. No regret. You are our chosen one, our weapon. You'd be worthless otherwise…

Then there were fewer thoughts and words, and more concepts and feelings –

Beauty. Love. Hope.

And images -

Princess Zelda. Smiling.

They all faded and the familiar, clawing darkness spewed forth from his heart. Sleep retreated. It was here, in this drowsy time before full wakefulness that Link found himself at his weakest. Not in any physical way, of course. The walls of ice that he'd built around his heart began to melt. Whispers would seep out, distorting his thoughts.

Why bother? they said. Just sink back into sleep. It's all too hard. All futile. You're futile.

The pain that rested within, the emptiness that could not be filled, lashed out so hard that his eyes would sting and water.

And that's why he had trained himself to become alert within seconds.

Link sat bolt upright in the bed of a darkened room. He waited for calm to rest over his thoughts like a temporary balm, then his hand moved quickly, searching for his weapons. His fingers only found soft, feather-filled duvets, a far cry from the hard, stone floor he was accustomed to when growing up.

"Eep!" a voice said.

Link blinked as the fog of sleep rolled back. His eyes adjusted.

"Paya," he said simply.

The young Sheikah woman sat on a stool near the end of his bed, watching him with wide, earnest eyes. A candle flickered in one corner of the unfamiliar room, casting its wan light on the varnished walls. Link felt his body catch up to him, then – sore muscles and reddened skin flared up with pain.

"Snappity-snap!" another voice spoke. "And just like that, Linky's awake! Nice one!"

Purah, the old Sheikah with the young face, stepped into the faint light. "And, yes, my grandniece has been watching over you." Her voice dropped. "Even Calamity Ganon itself wouldn't have been able to drag her away."

Paya cringed and flushed red.

"Kakariko…?" said Link.

Purah shook her head. "Nuh-uh!" she said with a grin. "We're not in Kakariko, if that's what you were asking with your usual level of eloquence."

"Then…?"

"You're in my Tech Laaab, of course!" said Purah in a sing-song voice. "I can't believe the Yiga hid a shrine right under my nose. Literally!" Her lips fluttered as she blew a long breath through them. "The rats!"

Link blinked. "How did you know?"

"That it was the Yiga?" said Purah. "You kept muttering about it in your sleep. Yiga. Shrine. Yiga. Shrine. Yiga. Shrine. Princess princess princess. Yiga. Shrine."

Link narrowed his eyes. Paya bit her lower lip and looked away out of embarrassment for the knight.

"Don't worry your pretty little head, Linky," Purah continued. "I've taken care of it now. Symin had plenty of spare, volatile parts to dump into that hole you made." The small bespectacled Sheikah sniffed. "The Yiga won't be using that shrine anymore – no way."

Paya finally found her voice. "I-I think Master Link needs to rest."

"In your bed, you mean."

Paya's jaw dropped. "What?"

"What?" Link added in chorus.

Purah wore a look of feigned innocence. "Isn't he in the bed you use whenever you come to visit?" She sniggered softly, then shuffled over to her grandniece and pinched the younger woman's cheek. "You're so easy to tease, girl."

Link swung his legs out of the bed in question. He was gratified to see that neither of the two women had tried to remove his clothes. "I need to go."

"So soon?" said Purah. "Well, hokay." Her usually carefree voice held just a hint of irritation. "Just be sure to visit again the next time you're on your deathbed."

Link decided to ignore her and turned instead to Paya. "Impa…?"

The young woman shifted on her stool, then pointed. It was then that Link noticed that there was another bed in the room. Impa lay there, her breathing soft and her face peaceful.

"No change," said Paya.

"Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm!" said Purah. "I had Symin and Paya bring my baby sister here in secret. All the better to look after her."

Link stood up. Paya followed him with her eyes.

"You're really going, Master Link?" she said.

The knight nodded. "I need to find the princess."

Just saying that out loud soothed his heart somewhat. Determination drove away the last of his fatigue and reduced his bruises to a distant throb. He felt the stiffness in his face relax.

Purah's long lashes fluttered behind her spectacles as she regarded the knight for a moment. "Hmm, I guess we're all born to fight in some way," she murmured. "On the battlefield, or in ourselves. And then you have the poor ikkle chosen ones who have to do both."

Link turned his head her way. "Meaning…?"

"I saiiid," Purah replied in another sing-song voice. "Do you even know where Zelda is…?"

"That's not what you s-"

"Yes, it is." Purah raised her chin in defiance and folded her arms.

Link sighed. "I don't know where she is," he replied. "Do you…?"

Purah's voice softened. "I have no clue, Linky," she said. "That's why it's dear sister in that bed over there and not me." She regarded him for another moment. "I suppose you have no idea of what's killed all the tech, do you…?"

Link shook his head, and said no more. His eyes tracked around the room.

Purah understood instantly. "Your gear's in that corner o-ver theeeere!"she said, pointing. "Nice to see you're still using the Ancient Bow."

Link rose off of the bed and walked over to the corner in question to quickly scoop up his weapons and equipment. Without even another glance back, he opened the door and slipped out.

Paya wore a pensive look as she stared at the door swinging shut.

"Wasting your time with that one," said Purah.

Eyes still fixed on the door, Paya gave a weak smile. "I think his heart is with another."

She didn't like it. But she accepted it. Bitterness wasn't something that could ever find a home in Paya's soul. If only she could help him somehow…

"Logical conclusion," the older Sheikah replied. "BUT! Not what I meant!"

Paya, used to her grandaunt's odd manner, turned her way for a moment. "He mumbled things in his sleep," she said. "First kill. Regret. For Hyrule." She stopped there.

Another word had tumbled from Link's sleeping lips, one spoken in a voice that had broken her heart: Worthless.

Purah sighed. "Mmm-hmm," she said. "He truly believes with all his little heart that he doesn't deserve any good that comes to him." She shrugged. "That's what Impy told me, anyhoo."

Paya nodded, letting the words sink in, as though her grandaunt had finally confirmed something for her, then slipped off the stool and went off to follow Link. The wooden floorboards of the lab sprung gently under her feet, and Paya recalled the past three days she'd spent watching the knight in his sleep. He might not want her affections, but she liked to think he still needed her.

Paya thought on something Impa had taught her once, a lesson to help her with her nerves. Her grandmother had said that true life was a living heart. Some people ate, talk and slept like everyone else, but their souls had withered and died. A living heart was at rest, even when broken, free from grudges and hate, and could even swat doubt aside.

It never feels doubt? Paya remembered asking.

That's not what I said, child, her grandmother had replied. Don't overthink is what I'm saying. You don't have to surrender to your every thought and feeling.

And then Impa had spoken of the heart caught between life and death, tortured by the choices it had made. It stood on the precipice – it could fall into the abyss, or soar to the heavens. In the little time she'd known him, coupled with what her grandmother had said about him, Paya had thought of Link as having a living heart. Now she wasn't so sure.

The sun warmed her face as she stepped outside. Link sat on the grass just in front of the lab, polishing the Master Sword with a cloth as the shadow of drifting clouds floated over him. A glance to her right found the dark carcass of the Guardian he'd spilled out of when she'd been tending to the furnace.

Her heart thudded loudly as it always did when she approached the Master Sword's chosen one. Down the slope, she saw the village of Hateno rise in her line of sight, and heard the creak of its slowly spinning windmills. A waterfall roared in the distance, the froth at its base catching sprinkles of golden sunlight.

Link didn't look up when she came to a stop behind him.

"W-where will you go?" she said.

"To find her," he replied.

That wasn't what she'd asked. She waited for a moment, trying to think of something else to say. "I like that you're so quiet."

She cringed inwardly at what her tongue had blurted out. She'd said she liked something about him!

Link paused in mid-polish. There was a long pause before the Hylian knight replied. "Words cause arguments," he said. "Arguments cause wars. Wars need people like me."

Paya blinked in surprise. It was true; she did like how quiet he was. The few other men she'd observed were loud braggarts, and Link seemed so different to them. When that type fought, it was anger and malice that drove them.

Not so with Link - at least that's how it had looked to her when he'd defended Kakariko from the Yiga attack. She'd also admired his calm composure, completely opposite as it was to her own flighty thoughts and feelings. That's why she'd thought him the very embodiment of the living heart her grandmother had spoken of.

But what Link had said just now saddened her.

"Master Link," she said, placing her palm on his shoulder.

He didn't react in any way, and Paya felt a sudden rush of alarmed self-consciousness. What was she doing, touching him like that…? She should just walk away and leave him alone.

Paya half-turned – and then stopped. Her grandaunt was looking at her through one of the lab's windows. Paya felt a sudden reserve of inner steel.

I don't have to be scared, she thought. I know I can help.

Paya turned back. "Master Link," she repeated, this time with a little more firmness.

Link seemed to notice this time as now he looked up.

"Y-you're a hero, Master Link," she said, unable to keep the stammer from her voice. Her every instinct still screamed at her to just run away, but she let her feet grow heavy and held her ground. "B-but you're more than that. You're a good person."

Her breathing quickened. Perspiration sprung out all over her skin, so much so that she lifted her hand off of Link's shoulder in case he should notice. "And a g-good person doesn't have to be perfect," she went on, not even knowing what she was saying until she'd said it. "They can forgive. They f-forgive themselves."

And that was all the young Sheikah woman could stand. She strode off, her cheeks burning, and didn't bother to see if Link had reacted. As she drew closer to the lab, her eyes locked with Purah's. Her grandaunt gave her a small smile.

"Sooo," said Purah. She was stood a stool - the Director's Podium, as she called it - and she cradled a steaming mug. "Is Linky still out there?"

Paya glanced toward the lab's front door. The reddish light of the descending sun poured in through the building's windows. She'd been out twice since speaking to Link – both times to give him a plate of bread and simmered fruit – and she'd found him exactly where she'd left him.

"I think so," she replied. "You sound like you don't you want him around. He did save us all, after all."

Her grandaunt sighed. "Oh, don't mind me," she replied, then sang, "Just feeling a little cran-kyyy."

"Because of the Yiga shrine…?"

"Mmm-hmm…" Purah sighed again. "What are they planning? And what were they doing with Linky? I'd ask him, but I don't have another hundred years to spare waiting while he finishes a sentence. Not one for chit-chat, is he?"

Paya turned at the sound of the door opening. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Link entering, but her keen eyes noticed something else. Though he still wore the same haunted look he always did, he seemed a little bit more relaxed in his general demeanour.

The two Sheikah women waited until the knight reached them.

"So," he said, running his hand through his hair in a plainly self-conscious gesture. "Um. Thank you both. For keeping an eye over me."

Watching Link attempt a smile made Paya hold back a smile of her own. She didn't know if her words had had any effect – she hadn't really expected them to, or even known how he'd be changed by them - but it was nice to see Link seem a little more…like an actual person than a legendary hero.

Purah had said nothing. She took a slow sip from her mug.

And then burst into life.

"Snappity-snap, would you listen to that?" she grinned. "No need for thanks, Linky! We always welcome the chance to look after pretty young boys, don't we, Paya?"

Paya looked away quickly, hot blood rushing to her face. So inappropriate!

"Seriously, though," Purah went on. "We're both always here for you. You're not alone, Linky. I hope you know that."

Link gave a short nod of acknowledgement and tried another smile. Paya guessed that his reserved manner had always been his natural state. She was glad. The alternative was that his experiences – whatever they had actually been - had twisted his whole personality, and she couldn't bear to ponder that.

"Lessee now," Purah continued. "You've spent the whole day sitting outside and have come to conclusion you actually need a bit of help to find the princess – right?"

Link stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and gave another nod.

"You can say 'yes', y'know?" said Purah.

"Yes," said Link with a lop-sided attempt at a smile. "I need help."

Purah took another sip from her hot drink. "Well, then," she said. "Let's not dilly-dally. You tell me about what happened to you in that shrine, and I'll figure out how to find the princess…"