THIRTY-SIX

After rematerializing in Telma's flat, Ketura sat with her arms hugging her knees to her chest, looking down at the floor and the area rug that she was surely staining with some of the blood on her body. She heard Talo murmur "I can't believe it, good Gods above."

It was then dead silent for a few minutes. She didn't want to look up from the spot on the rug where she fixed her eyes, because she knew immediately what would catch her attention, and she had already seen enough of it. Yet try as she might, the memories of all that had just happened would not leave her mind: Link lying battered and dead, the malice and menace in Zant's bright orange eyes, the pain he caused her, the fact that Ganondorf was still on the roof of Hyrule Castle, the way Midna's body just vanished, Link again –

A door opened, followed by a short, hair-raising scream. Ketura looked up and saw Telma with her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide as she took in the sight before her.

"Wha- wha- what happened?" Telma asked, horrified. "Ketura, honey, are you all right?"

Ketura nodded.

"And Link, are you … Link?" Telma drew closer and got a better look at Link, and her face fell as she realized what she saw. "No … no … Link … no …." She dropped to her knees beside Link, scooped him into her arms, buried her face in his hair and sobbed. All Ketura could do was watch as a pit formed in her stomach, and she thought that maybe if she remained behind like she was supposed to, things would have turned out differently.

At the same time, it all seemed too surreal, as if there was no conceivable way in the world that everything that happened had indeed happened. The reality of it all had yet to sink in – and perhaps it didn't have to. Link didn't have to stay dead, she told herself. She knew that people could be brought back, because she had done it, and all she needed was that stone- she couldn't remember its name- and had she really just killed Zant, or was she for some reason imagining a fight on the roof of Hyrule Castle with her stabbing and slashing him to death and then setting his body on fire?

She sat there, shifting her eyes to look at her lap, lost in her own mind, not keeping track of time. Eventually, she heard Telma say "We- we should move him," and she looked up to see Telma holding Link under his arms while Talo got his legs, and together they carried him into the second bedroom. Ketura followed behind them, grabbing the blanket off the couch as she went. Inside the bedroom, Telma and Talo lay Link down on the bed and folded his hands on his chest.

"We'll need to bury him," said Telma.

"The others will be back soon. We can have a funeral," replied Talo.

"Where would we bury him? Ordon?"

"In the Kakariko Village graveyard, next to my mom," said Ketura as she approached the two of them, standing next to Telma. "When we were both sick, the town went ahead and designated two spots in the graveyard for us … Mom's in one, and the other is supposed to be for me, but I want him to be there. They can be together again."

Telma nodded. "Sure, hon," she said as she rested her hand on Ketura's shoulder.

"I- I'd like a minute alone with him," said Ketura.

"Of course. Then maybe you should clean yourself up." With that, Telma and Talo turned to leave. Once they were gone, Ketura took the blanket and lay it over the bottom half of Link and stopped before stretching it over his top half. Again, it struck her how he looked as if he were sleeping, and he could have woken up at any moment. She watched him for a moment, thinking maybe he would, maybe if she stared hard enough his eyes would flutter open and all of his wounds would miraculously heal themselves.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand into hers; it was stiff and ice-cold, but she held onto it and stroked it like it was the most precious thing she had ever held. Sitting there in silence, holding his hand, she tried to think of what she would say to him if he could hear her. Heartfelt confessions, apologies, explanations, excuses – none of it stuck. It didn't matter though, she thought. He was gone and wouldn't be able to hear or appreciate anything else she had to say to him, even at his funeral.

A funeral. Reality slowly began to sink in.

Ketura held his hand up to her mouth and kissed it, then laid it back on his chest. She then leaned in and kissed his forehead. "I love you, Dad," she whispered. Before leaving the room, she covered the rest of him with the blanket.

The next day, a group of people made the journey to Kakariko Village from Castle Town. Telma carried Link in her covered wagon, placing him in a plain wooden coffin because that was all she could find on such short notice. ("He deserves better than this," she lamented) Luda and Colin cleaned his body and his green tunic, and even stitched up the tears in the fabric and his wounds. While Ketura rode in the wagon with Luda, Colin, Talo, and Malo, Impa and another following of some rebels trailed behind, all wearing black cloaks and hoods. Ketura wore a black dress and a cloak she had found in the closet of the flat's spare bedroom. Impa advised her to put the cloak's hood over her head anytime she stepped out of the wagon, to keep herself warm as well as hidden.

She hadn't been to Kakariko in months, not since the day that Hylian soldiers had summoned her for an audience with Princess Zelda, but she didn't bother to look out the wagon to see if anything in the town had changed. Odds were nothing would have, except for the fact that her house was no longer there. Even if her house was still standing, she didn't know if she could bring herself to visit it. It would serve as the reminder of how her life had once been, long ago, before everything around her changed into something she could never imagine in her wildest dreams. She reflected on how she wanted to sell that house and use the money to leave Hyrule and explore far-off lands before settling down somewhere and studying at a university, and then becoming a writer. Now, she would settle for making it through the day with her limbs and sanity intact. Those things she dreamed of doing just months ago seemed so distant and insignificant.

There was one place in the village that she had not visited in years, and had no intention of visiting ever again until the moment she stood right there: the Kakariko Graveyard, more specifically her mother's grave. A tombstone read Ilia Ordonia, beloved mother and friend followed by the dates of birth and death. Next to Ilia's grave was an empty spot, where Colin and Talo began digging as Ashei engraved a slab of stone with the words Link Lykos, father, friend, and Hero of Hyrule followed by the dates of birth and death and a crude engraving of the Triforce insignia. As they worked, Ketura helped Telma and her siblings haul the coffin out of the back of the wagon and set it down close to the gravesite, where everyone else stood in a circle around it.

Impa gave the first eulogy, talking about Link's virtues and heroism and good heart. Ketura didn't pay much attention. She kept her eyes on the coffin, the plain wooden box that would hold her father for the rest of eternity in a deep hole in the ground. The idea of being buried always disturbed her; she wanted her body burned when she died. Then again, she supposed that once she was dead she would not know or care what became of her physical remains.

Her mind wandered some more, through things she could say about Link and to Link, and more possibilities of what she could have done differently. Eventually, she concluded that no matter what, she should have just listened to him. Maybe if she did avoid Ganondorf like he wanted, stayed cooped up and out of sight, and did not try to get involved, he and Midna would still be alive. She should have just let the others handle everything, even any problems she caused. They were more capable, and Impa may have brought Link back alive. She really was dumb, just like Midna had said.

Colin and Talo took a break from digging and joined the circle next to Luda. After wiping dirt off his hands, Colin cleared his throat. "I've known him my entire life," he began calmly. "I looked up to him. He always had my back … we'd go fishing, back when we were kids. I made him his own fishing rod, even, and the first thing he did with it was catch a fish for the shopkeeper's cat." Colin paused so he could sniffle. His eyes glistened with tears. "He was my biggest inspiration. Hopefully one day I can be as strong and brave and good-hearted as he was, but if it weren't for him I know I wouldn't be the man I am today. He- he was my best friend and- my hero." Tears fell from his eyes as he continued, and when he was done he leaned into Luda's comforting embrace.

Talo spoke next. "I, well we all grew up in Ordon Village together. Link was a few years older than the rest of us, working on the goat ranch and then riding his horse and practicing with his sword in his spare time. Like Colin, Link inspired me to be better. His first, well, blatant act of heroism that I can recall was when he saved me and a forest monkey from some Bokoblins that had been hanging around the Faron Woods. Then we were all kidnapped, and I don't think he slept until he made sure we were all safe. And until all Hyrule was safe, too. I think if more people were like Link, Hyrule would be a better place. He always put others first, and nothing was too big a challenge for him. Well, except maybe parenthood. I remember him freaking out a little bit when Ilia got pregnant, but-" he chuckled, then glanced over to Ketura. "He was crazy about you when you were born. You have no idea. If he had the chance, he would have been the best dad ever."

Ketura nodded in acknowledgement. She didn't feel like smiling, much less laughing in return. She zoned out again as Ashei began her eulogy.

"I first met Link at Telma's, during a meeting of our group. He was young, but looked like he had already seen a lifetime's worth of action. And then he approached me later about climbing Snowpeak, during a blizzard, with a giant Yeti coming down to Zora's domain on a regular basis doing gods-knows-what. I helped him out, but I figured he was crazy. But you know, I think all the best people are a little crazy …."

She tried to imagine that alternate reality where Link had been present during her childhood. It was hard, though, as if it just wasn't meant to be. And it wasn't fair, she thought, how she only got a couple of months to know him while everyone else had known him for much longer than that. She grew up hearing all the stories, waited to see if she ever got the chance to meet him, finally did meet him right when she was ready to give up … only to have it all snatched away from her. She would never get to see the Link who caught a fish for a cat, or the Link who herded goats, or the Link who was anxious about becoming a father ….

She caught Ashei saying something about how he would be greatly rewarded by the Goddesses in heaven, and her mood fell even further. According to the one person she knew who had actually been dead for a long time, there was no afterlife. No heaven, no hell. No great divine reward awaited Link, just bleak nothingness. He wouldn't be reunited with Ilia or anyone else who went before him, just like when Ketura died she wouldn't be reunited with either of her parents. He was simply gone.

When Ashei was finished, she looked directly at Ketura. "Do you want to say something?"

Ketura shook her head. "No."

Telma volunteered to go next, and as she spoke Ketura felt her chest grow tight and her stomach heavy.

"I first met Link when he escorted me to this village, to find help for Ilia and a sick Zora boy who happened to be their Prince. When all of the Hylian soldiers were spineless cowards, he stepped up and rose to the occasion. I was impressed by his skills and his courage. He only kept outdoing himself from there, leading up to what he did to be thrown in prison. His refusal to kill innocent Gerudos made him one of the precious few people I know who has my unconditional trust and respect. Link was a hard worker, a good person, who always strived to do the right thing, and he never quit no matter how tough things seemed. I am proud to have been his friend."

Telma held a hand up to her mouth, stifling a sob. Ketura noticed how her face was wet with tears and splotched red in places, and she moved in to hug Telma. Telma reciprocated, resting her cheek on the top of Ketura's head. The two of them stood in their embrace as Luda read a passage out of the Accords of the Goddesses: "Death is no evil, death is no good. It is the way of all who walk the earth. From the Goddesses you came, and to the Goddesses you shall return." Colin, Talo, Ashei, and Impa picked up the coffin and gently lowered it into the grave. Luda kept reading as everyone else formed a line behind the pallbearers, waiting their turn to take the shovel and scoop dirt into the grave. Ketura and Telma eventually joined the line; the line curved into a circle, and Ketura watched the grave fill with more dirt as she waited her turn to throw in some more.

"The Goddesses provide for me, and I want for nothing. They give the sun, and the grass, and the still waters. They heal my soul and bring me peace. Though I may walk paths in the shadow of evil and death, I will fear nothing, for they are with me. Blessings will follow me through my life, and I will then dwell in their presence forever."

Soon, they all stood before Link's grave: a rectangular patch of brown dirt surrounded by grass and snow, accompanied by a headstone. After standing in reverent silence for a few moments, or uttering prayers under their breath, people turned away and headed back to the entrance of the graveyard, going in pairs or small groups, arms around each other and faces wet from crying. Ketura stayed behind, looking at his headstone, thinking that perhaps as a Hero he deserved a grand tomb in a place of prominence. But none of the other Heroes had grand tombs – the remains of the Hero of Time were apparently never found, and she couldn't think of where any of the others had been buried. Maybe it was part of being a Hero, not getting a worthy resting place, yet she felt like he deserved so much better than what she provided.

"I- I want a minute," Ketura said to Telma. With a sad, knowing look on her face, Telma nodded before she pulled Ketura into another short hug.

Ketura stood by and watched as the others trickled away from the gravesite back into the village. Telma and Impa stood by at the entrance to the graveyard, watching both Ketura and the area immediately outside. Otherwise, she was the only living thing left in the graveyard; in the cold winter environment, there were no birds or bugs or even Keese up in the bare trees, whose branches wore caps of snow that matched the ones on the tombstones of those who rested under the earth.

From a young age, she had wanted her parents to be reunited, but not the way that they had just been. Her mother and father should have waited at least fifty years before sharing graves beside one another. She stared at her mother's tombstone, which was only a couple of years old but looked worn and ancient compared to the one that had just been erected, and thought of the bygone days they were together. Ilia had been kind and warm, hard-working, self-sacrificing, and made the best of a difficult situation. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, she would contort her beautiful face into funny forms to entertain her young daughter, and she was gone too soon.

"Hi Mom." Ketura rested her hand on top of Ilia's tombstone. "I know I don't visit- or I haven't visited at all, not since your … funeral. And now I'm talking to you like you can hear me …. I finally got to meet Dad, but he- he-" She paused. "Everything has changed so much. I've seen things and done things I didn't know I could do, and now I don't know what the future holds for me. I miss you." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I wish I could see you again one day, and I wish you were here now, to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay."

She hoped that everything was a long, ugly dream. That she would wake up and be twelve years old again, with her mother alive and in good health, and that Link had never been in prison but off doing work for Princess Zelda like she had always believed. That Zant would never come around to torment them, and that her life would be simple and safe and happy.

Next, she caught a glimpse of Link's tombstone, the newest and smoothest among the stones of the graveyard. Just two days ago he had been alive and well – scolding her after catching her out in Hyrule Field, though, but still alive and well, and even if it had only been two days it felt like an eternity ago. She tried to think of him as the man who optimistically talked about a ranch house in Ordona Province on a patch of land with goats and horses, or the man who indulged his nostalgia by telling stories of his adventures … but all she could see in her mind was the man who lay broken and bloody and bruised on the roof of Hyrule Castle. His weak voice, begging her to leave, filled her ears.

She stepped over to Link. "Dad … I'm so sorry," she whimpered. "I should have listened to you. About everything. I didn't. I thought I knew better, and that I could help you, but I couldn't. I couldn't help you. I failed. You wouldn't be able to forgive me, if you knew what all I had done. But if I could go back I'd do everything differently, and you'd be alive, and we could live that quiet peaceful life you wanted." She sniffled, glanced between her parents' tombstones, and let out a sad chuckle. "It's funny, the first magic I ever did was bringing someone back from the dead. Of all the people I could have … if I could do it again, I would, for both of you …."

"I hope I can become someone you'd be proud of," said Ketura as she lay her right hand on the top of Link's tombstone, "who you could happily say was your daughter … I'm going to miss you, Dad."

Ketura stood in silence for a moment, looking down at her father's grave, lost in thought. When a soft, warm golden glow began to emanate from her right hand, she looked at it quizzically. The golden glow gradually intensified, and in surprise she lifted her hand up into the air. After a moment, the glow subsided, and on the back of her hand she saw the Triforce Crest, as golden as the glow that brought it about, with the bottom-right triangle shining the brightest.

Cautiously, she ran the fingers of her left hand over the crest on her right. The fabric of her glove didn't feel different to her; in fact, she didn't feel different in any way. She recalled the Triforce Crest on the back of her father's hand, and Zelda's hand, and Zant's hand … what had become of the Triforce of Power, she wondered. The Triforce of Wisdom would likely pass to another member of the Royal Family, which led her to an easy conclusion. Easy, yet confusing. Why her, and why now? Was it the Goddesses' way of giving her something of her father's, to help remember him? Did they want her to do something with it?

She looked over to the graveyard's exit, seeing that Telma and Impa still waited there, and she was curious to know if they saw her hand glow or not. She made eye contact with Telma, who was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief yet otherwise looked as somber as she had been all day. Impa had her back turned to Telma, focusing on something beyond the graveyard. Figuring that there was nothing else to be accomplished by staying longer, Ketura ran her hand along the top of each of her parents' headstones again before joining Telma's side. Arms around one another, the two went with Impa back to the wagon, where everyone else waited in mournful silence. Ketura climbed into the wagon with Luda and Colin, taking one last look around Kakariko before she did; she found the spot where her house once stood, which had been reduced to nothing but an empty plot of land. Nothing else in the village had changed, but it seemed like a foreign place. It didn't look or feel like home to her. Her hope of ever having a home again lay sleeping under the earth.

"What's this?" Luda asked suddenly as she took Ketura's right hand and inspected the Triforce crest, and her eyes widened in awe and recognition. "Colin, look!" she whispered excitedly, and Colin's jaw dropped when he peered over his wife's shoulder to take a look.

"Is that the Trifor-?" Colin asked. Luda shushed him loudly.

Ketura nodded. "It is, yeah. Some inheritance, huh?"

"Possibly. Our darkest moments are often the times that the Goddesses choose to bestow their greatest blessings," commented Luda.

"Maybe," replied Ketura absentmindedly. She didn't know if the Triforce of Courage truly counted as a blessing; all she knew was that it was hers, and in the time to come she would have to figure out what she was meant to do with it. Following exactly in Link's footsteps wasn't an option, but the example he set had to be a good place to start.