The expansive square room was dripping with ancient moisture, the walls slick, droplets falling from the ceiling. A large depression pierced with four pillars was filled with strangely blue and glistening water. The walls were lined with wicked spikes, reinforcing the feeling of threatening confinement. This was a prison, for something unseen.

I walked slowly and warily towards the edge of the water-filled pit. The dripping water made a maddening soft cacophony. Perhaps this distracted me. Before I knew what was happening, a strange ripple in the water spread and grew.

"Link! Look out! That isn't normal water over there!"

Navi's warning came too late. Suddenly I was wet, crushed. A huge tendril of fluid had erupted from the pool, flowing over and through me like water but grasping and holding. It thrashed and engulfed me as I struggled and swiped ineffectually with my sword. It availed me nothing. Soon the sinister liquid was flowing over my face, and I saw a blurry shape moving about in the water with malicious purpose, a strange spherical nucleus animating the whole amorphous mass. I felt the liquid trying to force its way into my mouth and nose. I wanted to scream but knew I could not, must not. The more I struggled the more it seemed to constrict and oppress me. In another moment my feet left the floor as it bore me into the air. It began thrashing me back and forth, tearing my flesh, rattling my brain inside my skull. For a moment I thought I would be torn to shreds before I had a chance to drown, but then with great force the tendril hurled me from its grasp across the room, like a cat toying with its kill. In a discombobulating instant I flew through the air and crunched hard on the stone floor.

The very moment of impact was accompanied by a voice shouting my name in alarm. Navi? No...it was not quite her timbre. It called out again: "Link!"

My eye snapped open. I was chest-deep in water—but it was warm, soothing. Gnarled trees ringed the steamy spring. Zelda was facing me, hands on my shoulders, shaking me gently. "Link, are you alright?"

I grunted, cleared my head. "You drifted off," Zelda said nervously. "I wanted to let you sleep, but...after a little while you looked distressed." She brushed some hair from my sweaty forehead. "Was it..."

"It was more visions from the past...the alternate present, I mean." As I gathered my wits I felt the deep, omnipresent ache all over my body that I had been feeling as Morpha crushed me. "I was being attacked..."

Zelda's eyes were wells of concern. "What was it?"

"Does it matter?"

She looked hard at me. "Just like the thing that put that gash on your shoulder?" She gently traced the scar. "I want to respect your privacy, but..."

I breathed out through my nose. "It's not about privacy or keeping secrets. There's no reason to burden you with the tribulations of my past."

"I understand, if you feel that way right now. But if you ever need to share that burden, please, do it. Being guarded and holding pain in your heart will destroy you from the inside out. I know it, you must know it too." Zelda swished away from me and floated in the middle of the pool.

"I feel right now...like I want to get out of the water." I dunked my head (with some reluctance) to wash my hair, then made my way to the shore. Without a way to dry myself I simply brushed off as much water as I could with my hands and put my clothes back on, slightly damp. My eyepatch, too, was damp; it had not occurred to me to remove it before getting it wet.

For modesty's sake I didn't stare at Zelda as she exited the spring and dressed. Instead I was absorbed by the rate at which the snow seemed to be melting in a growing radius around the spring. In the brief time since Saria had left—perhaps half an hour—a ring of yellowish-green grass had appeared, already extending more than two feet from the edge of the spring. Kokiri Forest is vast, but at such a rate of thawing it would not be long before real change would be visible. I wondered, pondering Saria's words on the secrecy of the Kokiri, whether the forest's thaw would put the Kokiri in jeopardy. As she had said, hiding in the frozen abyss had kept the Kokiri safe. But hiding would not achieve victory.

Zelda and I stayed near the warmth of the spring, talking briefly about our future plans. I was unsure as to our course of action. The two remaining Sages, Ruto and Nabooru, would not be easy to find nor easy to awaken. Gerudo territory surrounded us; even simply leaving Kokiri Forest would be difficult.

Shortly we saw Saria silently emerge from the forest. In her hands was a bundle of cloth of a rich blue color. She approached us, noting with pleasure the efficacy of Din's Fire in rejuvenating the land. We greeted each other.

"So, what have you brought us?" I asked.

Saria looked down at the cloth bundle. "When the Gerudo began destroying everything, I ran to your house."

"Why?"

"I wanted...I wanted to save as much as I could. For when you came back."

"You..."

Saria looked at the ground. "I found all kinds of strange things there, things from your first journey. At the time, of course, I had no idea what they were. But I grabbed whatever I could and ran, just before they came to burn everything. I took this."

She looked up and handed me the small, blue bundle of fabric. As I took it in my hand I felt something heavy inside. I looked at her, she smiled. "Go on."

As I unwrapped the bundle of cloth, I revealed a strange metal contraption, a spring-loaded blade attached to a hand grip. I looked it over, judging its size—it was the Longshot I had retrieved from the Water Temple.

"Wow...thank you..." I stammered.

"That's not all," she said sweetly.

I kept unfolding the blue cloth that had the Longshot in it. I was surprised I hadn't realized earlier, once I had unfolded it completely.

My Zora Tunic, a blue and adult-sized version of the clothes I had worn as a child. It was very good fortune that Saria had saved this magic tunic out of all my clothing, as she surely had been ignorant at the time of its power to enable its wearer to breathe underwater.

"I couldn't figure out why you had a tunic that was way too big for you in your house," Saria said as I looked it over. "But in time, I think I came to realize—even before I was told—you weren't one of us. You never were. You'd grow up. And I felt bad that you had these special clothes for when you grew up, and you might never get to wear them. I...I guess now you can."

Wordlessly, I drew Saria in and hugged her. I felt her face against my midriff, her arms on my back, and I put my hands on her head and shoulders. I heard her sigh. Then she pulled away.

"There's one more thing. One thing I have to return to you," she said, with a touch of melancholy. She reached into a pocket of her thick parka and pulled out a small, beige oval of ceramic. She held it out for us to see. Her Fairy Ocarina, token of our friendship—even when the Ocarina of Time had replaced it in usefulness I had kept it with me, through all the years and all the trials. She had taken it back from me in the Forest Temple.

"I was so cold to you," Saria said, gazing down at the ocarina she held in her two cupped hands. "I thought that you deserved no pity, not even from me, the only one who called you a friend. I was so wrong. I have to give it back to you."

"No," I said. Gently I closed Saria's fingers back around the curve of the instrument. "I think you were right. It was fate that it has ended up back with you...back with its owner, back where it belongs. Don't think of it as a gift that you gave me: I kept it safe for you, so that I could give it back to you now. Keep it here, and play it if you ever miss me. Play it when the Kokiri are sad, and make them happy."

She seemed to hesitate, holding my gaze, and then smiled and put the ocarina away again. "I'll do that, Link. That's a wonderful idea."

Zelda spoke. "I have one last request, before you set about your duties."

"Anything I can, Your Highness," Saria answered.

"When Link left the forest seven years ago, he took his fairy with him. Navi." Zelda and I watched sadness creep into Saria's eyes: she knew the direction of Zelda's inquiry.

"When the forest was pure, we all had one," Saria said. "When we gathered in the evenings, they'd all fly about over our heads like lanterns in the twilight. It was beautiful."

"I wish I could have seen it," Zelda said quietly. "But now they're gone. Navi too disappeared when we entered the forest. Now that you are a Sage..."

Saria slowly shook her head. "I cannot bring them back. Even as the Sage of the Forest, they are not mine to command—they are older than the Sages, older than mortals like you and I and not wont to answer to them. And even I could command them to return, they cannot. The forest is still gelid and dead."

"But what if the forest were restored?" I asked, a twinge of desperation in my voice. "Are they truly gone forever?"

"No," said Saria, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "They have gone to their ancient fountains beneath the earth, beyond the tendrils of frost. Like the forest, they are diminished, in torpor, but still alive. In their fonts of old they await the coming of spring, the rebirth that you have helped begin."

"And Navi...?" I began.

"She is with them. When you entered the forest she was drawn away from you, to repose among the others, but she will not forget you. Someday—not today, or tomorrow, but soon—they will reemerge. We Kokiri will be reunited with our soulmates and together as one we will strike against Verletz and his evil." She looked up at me, resolute, but her gaze softened with regret. "Sadly, Link...this will take time that you do not have to spare."

I shut my eye for but a moment and drew a long breath. "I understand. I miss Navi, but I cannot rest. I will carry on without her."

"One day, when the world is healed, she will be here, waiting for you," Saria told me. "As will I."

"We will fight for that day," Zelda said. "I hope on that day you'll give the honor of seeing Kokiri Forest and its people as they were, as they should be."

Saria nodded, and turned to me. "By my power, you will not be hindered as you leave the forest. You are a friend of this place and none of its inhabitants will cause you harm. I would like to see you off, but...I must go. Things are growing tense at the citadel, with Caelb's continued absence."

"You are the leader the Kokiri need, and I know that you will succeed," I said to her. "We'll be fine. You should hurry back. And thank you for everything."

"Thank you, Link. You are a hero, an inspiration...and I will always, always be your friend."

"Goodbye."

She gave me a final salute, and then she was gone. In moments she was swallowed up by the forest, and Zelda and I were once again alone.

A few moments of silence passed. Then Zelda asked the pertinent question. "What now?"

"I don't know," I said frankly. "We're in a difficult position now. Only Ruto and Nabooru remain. Nabooru, as we found out, is a Gerudo soldier. From the looks of it, a high-ranking one. There's no sane way we could find her, let alone guide her to Sagehood."

"That leaves Ruto," said Zelda with a frown. "Presumably she's somewhere in or near Lake Hylia or the Zora Domain."

"Between us and those places are miles and miles of Gerudo-controlled territory. It won't be easy."

She took a step toward me. "It never has been...we'll find a way."

Then, suddenly, there was a voice from behind us, near the thawed spring. It was smooth and calm and compelling, but I was startled all the same.

"I will show you the way. It is my destiny, after all."

Zelda and I whirled on our feet to see who was among us. But Zelda and I are seasoned adventurers, not easily snuck up on. There was only one person it could be.

Beside the spring, leaning almost casually against a tree, was the lean and graceful form of Sheik. Tousled hair obscured one eye, but the other, red and piercing, was trained on us. I could tell that he meant us no harm, but my nerves were scarcely calmed. In this place, I could hardly trust my senses.

"You..." Zelda breathed.

"Do you still mistrust me, Princess?" Sheik asked.

"A bit," she answered coolly. "How can we know that you are who you say you are? Where your loyalties lie? You have helped us in the past, but you cannot be accounted for. Do you imagine we can ever trust you fully?"

"I do not ask for your trust," Sheik replied. "Your fates are your own. I can offer what I can, and you are to do with it what you will. But I have faith in you, that you will set right the streams of time." Sheik stood erect and approached Zelda. "Perhaps I can earn your trust with another gift."

He handed her a small object. Zelda's eyes went wide. Clutched in her hands was the cool cerulean porcelain of the Ocarina of Time.

"How?!" she gasped. "This should still be within the castle walls, among the treasures and relics of the Royal Family."

Sheik gave Zelda a slight deferential bow. "Plucked from the twisting skeins of history from another timeline to this one, to serve you here."

"Is it hers to bear?" I asked, not jealous but curious, as Zelda appraised the heirloom.

"Was it not she who taught you the Song of Time that let you tweak the weft of the ages?" asked Sheik. "Was it not she who, placing this ancient instrument to her lips, unwove the history that you and she had wrought and sent you back to the beginning of your tale?"

"Well said and true enough," I answered. "It is your birthright, after all," I said to her.

"Your quest for the Sages enters its final stages," Sheik said with more gravity. "One, mistress of the waters, is bound by invisible chains, miscreated by disharmony. The other, the Sage of Spirit, is in the teeth of your enemies. She will not yield to destiny easily, but do not fear: Destiny does not sleep."

"With only Ruto and Nabooru left, Ruto seems the logical choice," I reasoned. "Before we attempt to somehow extract Nabooru from the Gerudo forces we ought to seek out every other advantage we can get. Helping Ruto and the Zoras might give us a means to do so."

"You...you fought against Nabooru, didn't you?" asked Zelda. "At Kakariko, she was there."

"She was hunting us," I told her. "Verletz must have ordered her to find us. Who knows how deep the connection between them is, but...we should pursue Ruto instead. It will be easier."

"Perhaps," said Zelda, "but getting anywhere from here won't be easy. Kokiri Forest is surrounded by Gerudo-occupied lands. To reach the Zora's Domain will be a lot of hard traveling, through hostile lands. There will no doubt be a siege force along Zora's River..."

Sheik interrupted us. "There are other ways. The land of Hyrule is full of mysteries and secrets. Think back, Link, to your voyages past." With a sweep of his arm he gestured to the steaming spring. The tips of his outstretched fingers guided my eyes below the surface. Through the haze and rippling water, I could make out something odd, a light-colored marble edifice. Man-made stone framed a rectangular opening, shrouded in darkness leading into the earth. I looked to Sheik, beginning to understand. He gave me a short nod, but said nothing further on the subject.

"Men such as you," he said to me, "on whom the wheels of destiny turn, must walk side by side with disaster. You are the Hero. Heroism is realized only in the presence of death. Therefore, you must choose the path of death even when life and safety may be had. There can be no other way."

I met the enigmatic gaze of Sheik with steadfast eye. "I know it well."

Without another word, Sheik began to back away from us, and I knew his departure was imminent. I wanted to say something further, but the words would not come. Zelda too only managed to call out, "Wait!" before a strong gust of wind whipped a flurry of snow between ourselves and the mysterious Sheikah. The dazzling white wall obscured our vision for but a moment, but in that moment he had disappeared, and once again we were alone in the depths of the Lost Woods.

"...That's that, I suppose," Zelda said dejectedly. She turned the Ocarina of Time over in her hands. "At least we have this, now."

"I don't suppose we could use the Ocarina of Time to transport us around Hyrule?" I asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not," Zelda said. "The songs of warping are very complex pieces of magic. While I was Sheik, on the run from Ganondorf, I visited all those places and attuned them to the Ocarina. Then when I taught you those songs, the Ocarina...remembered those places. It's hard to explain..."

"Don't worry," I told her. "What you're saying is, we can't teleport without attuning it beforehand."

"Yes. We're stuck, at least for now. Who knows if it'll even be possible, this time...everything is so different now, the attunement process I used before might not work the same way." Zelda put the precious Ocarina away, and looked at the pool. "Do you have any idea what Sheik was getting at? He pointed at this spring..."

I looked at the submerged archway. "I think I do. Do you see that structure, under the water?" Zelda gazed intently.

"Yes. What is it?"

"It's a doorway, or something like a doorway. Down there is a subterranean passage, full of water. If we were to follow it, it would take us to the headwaters of the Zora River, just beside the waterfall that conceals the entrance to Zora's Domain."

"Really?"

I nodded. "The problem is, it's full of water. There's no way we could swim the whole length on one breath."

Zelda tugged at the blue tunic in my hands. "But you have this. The Zora Tunic lets you breathe underwater!"

"Yes, but..." I unfolded the cloth and held the unfurled tunic up. "We only have the one."

Zelda put a hand to her chin. "Could you share air from your mouth?"

"I don't think so. If I recall correctly, it doesn't exactly fill your lungs with air, it just makes you not need to breathe it. When I used it, I didn't constantly exhale bubbles."

"I see," she answered. "That's not good."

"No…"

"If we get halfway through," she said, "and the one of us without the tunic runs out of air, could we swap the tunic?"

"I think so...it would take time. We might end up in a situation where we're both passing it back and forth desperately, and we'd just drown slowly."

"How long is it?" Zelda asked. "Are you certain we couldn't make it in one breath?"

"I don't know. Possibly you could hold your breath long enough, but the effort of swimming drains your air," I reasoned.

Zelda sighed. "This tunnel is our only choice. We can't risk traveling overland again, through Gerudo territory."

"You think so?"

"Worse than death is capture. The odds that Verletz gets his hands on one or both of us go up exponentially if we spend any more time than necessary in Gerudo lands. We take this shortcut, and we'll save days, if not weeks...and the worst that can happen is one of us drowns."

"Zelda..."

"Put it on," she said firmly.

"No," I said, "you should wear the tunic. I'm the stronger swimmer, I reckon I can hold my breath longer."

"No. You wear the tunic." She saw the resistance written on my features. "Link, this isn't a contest of self-sacrifice, let's think logically! Like you said, you're the stronger swimmer. You'll be burning air fast. I say you wear the tunic and I hold on to you, try to exert myself as little as possible. Swim hard with me clinging on, that way the one doing all the exertion is the one who doesn't have to worry about air. This is going to give us our best chance."

"I just..." I gnashed my teeth. "I can't let your risk your life like this!"

She looked hard at me. "You said that you would have the strength to carry on if I fell at your side. I've faced death before. We have to try and we can't turn back."

For a while we were silent. I sighed, and began to disrobe again. As I threaded my arms through the Zora Tunic and pulled it over my body, I said, "I trust your judgment."

We both approached the spring and dove in again. This time the perfectly warm and soothing water held no prospect of relaxation. The fear and nervousness was raising my heartbeat, and I fought hard to stay calm and disciplined. It would be essential for what we were trying to do. I tried to communicate this to Zelda.

"Don't be scared," I said. "Try to stay calm, it'll help you save your breath."

"I'm trying," she answered as she swished her arms around to keep her afloat. "I know it's my plan and all, but I'm scared all the same. I wish I had your courage."

"Just because it's supposed to be my Triforce doesn't mean I'm immune to fear," I said. "You've shown all the courage I have, if not more. Just summon up some more, and we'll get through this. Now, start taking deep breaths. Breathe deep for a minute or two, it'll help expand your lungs."

She did so, holding herself buoyant with one arm on the bank of the spring and taking long, slow deep breaths.
After a while she swam over to me and hooked her arms under my armpits.

"Okay," she said, gasping a few more times. I gave a nod, even though she was behind me. I heard her drag in one last huge gulp of air, and on cue I plunged below the surface, kicking hard and pushing forward with my arms to the greatest extent that I could without dislodging Zelda.

I drove us quickly towards the bottom of the spring and into the archway. The Zora Tunic, doing its work, removed all sensations of pressure or urgency in my chest. In a few moments I could easily forget that I even needed to breathe at all.

The sunlight was not strong overhead and the gloom was disquieting, and as the huge marble gateway loomed overhead the light disappeared. I swam towards the ground until my hands hit the muddy bottom. Then I began to scrabble forward. It seemed to me that a sort of hybrid swimming with pushing myself along the bottom was the fastest way. I would kick and paddle hard for a bit until a foot hit the ooze at the bottom, then I'd push myself off the ground with my feet for a quick surge of momentum.

Time was impossible to judge. I focused grimly on simply going forward and avoiding getting confused. I was fairly certain that the tunnel was straight, but I could easily get turned around anyway if I wasn't careful—the darkness and weightlessness was fantastically disorienting. I pushed on and made what I thought was good progress. I had no idea how close to the other side I was.

Suddenly I felt Zelda's arms going weak, sliding away from me. Then she drifted off completely. I was struck with overpowering panic and whirled around, groping frantically in the darkness for her. I brushed against her, felt around, grasped her arm—she was unresponsive. She didn't grasp me back, her limbs felt limp and helpless in my hands.

I remembered her words. I knew that she would want me to power on—she wasn't yet dead and maybe could be revived if we could reach the surface quickly. I had no idea if we had gone beyond the halfway point, in which case the fastest way out was forward, or not. I had no time left, Zelda's life was hanging by a thread. I decided that I couldn't do what she asked. She didn't deserve this, it couldn't end this way for her. For me, perhaps, but not for her.

With one hand keeping hold of Zelda's wrist I stripped off the Zora Tunic as fast as I could. Instantly I felt the urgency of breathing come back, but I ignored it. Then I grabbed her and pushed her against the wall so my body could pin her in place. I knew this was insanely dangerous. If Zelda, or the tunic, slipped out of my grasp, it would be a miracle to find it again. Obviously I wasn't thinking clearly, but I knew what I thought I had to do and I had to do it quickly.

With a bit of fumbling I managed to get the tunic over Zelda's head. With effort I was able to get her arms through as well, and once it was fully on, I heard a bizarre, warbling, guttural underwater cough. Then there were several more, and I believed Zelda was saved. She'd coughed the water out of her lungs, which meant she was alive, and now breathing wasn't necessary for her—I had to pray that she would regain consciousness.

Now bare-chested in the gloom, I grasped Zelda and started pushing forward again. But the ordeal had cost me dearly. Too much thrashing around, and now I was swimming hard carrying dead weight. I felt my lungs start to burn, and I just tried to stay calm and keep going. We had to be close now, we had to be...and soon I could see, far ahead, the tiniest, faintest glimmer of light. Perhaps it was a hallucination of my air-starved brain, but I decided it was the other side. It had to be.

I got closer, and I could see the light filtering down from above. I strained my vision upwards and I could just barely make out a round opening high above, with a tiny hint of blue sky above. I redoubled my efforts, but my time had run out. I felt sick, dizzy, on the verge of losing everything. I needed air but it was just too far, even though the goal was in sight. I wasn't going to make it.

With the timeless, galvanic insight of one about to die, I came up with a plan and executed it. I drew out the Longshot and took aim at the glimmering aperture above. I felt my lips part involuntarily and the deadly liquid rushed into my lungs. I gagged and blackness rimmed my vision, but I held the Longshot in a death-grip and fired. I clutched onto Zelda with equal fervor. With my last scraps of consciousness I felt myself being hurled forward, towards a one-in-a-million chance of salvation. But before I could be pulled free I once again fell out of conscious reality. It was becoming an infuriatingly frequent occurrence.