In response to reviews: Phiver — Oh I understand; I was frustrated with her as I was writing her, even if I did understand where she was coming from and why she didn't really get Link that well. She, much like King Rhoam, are genuinely worried about the Great Calamity; Impa also has her own reasons to resent Link, even if she doesn't want to admit them to herself.

And thank you for the kind words! Sidon was born blind. His blindness isn't some symbol, tragic backstory, or something like that; he's simply blind. Regarding echolocation, I had not actually thought of that, since I'm not certain if sharks are capable of echolocation. That said, I did actually write a little explanation about Sidon's blindness in the author's notes for this chapter (sharks are capable of some nifty things, which is what I based his physiologically on and around). And good on you for picking up the fact that he's blind, since I don't think that I've stated it explicitly until this very chapter!

It certainly has been a very long journey for Link since the first chapter, but she's earned her acceptance of her past. Thank you for the comment about Mipha and the champions in general; I did want to make them more than one-note archetypes, and I wanted to provide them with their own conflicts and pasts. I think you'll find the fifty-fourth chapter rather interesting.

You're entirely correct that Mipha was a little disheartened, or rather not as accepting as she could have been. Though she does accept it, she understands it less than have some other characters; this is reflected as well in her relationship with Sidon, as we'll see later. Mipha's not a bad person, per se, just a person who doesn't always make the wisest decisions, and someone who isn't intimately familiar with all walks of life.

Thank you for reading, and I hope that you enjoy the rest of Delicious in Wilds.

In response to reviews: Infernova43 [1] — Hi there, thank you so much for reading Delicious in Wilds! I hope that you enjoy the story. While I'm sure that the article you mentioned was interesting, I don't see why Link being female would cause an imbalance in the Triforce: we already have two males in canon (Link and Ganondorf) and one female, so why not two females and one male? With that, DiW does comment on the consequences of Link being female as well as on the implications of the Triforce. I can confirm that Zelda is also female in DiW.

With that in mind, please enjoy reading, and thank you for reaching out. I look forward to hearing what you think of the story!

Freefan1412 — It's a pleasure to hear from you again. I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed reading my responses to your reviews. With that, let's get down into your insightful comments!

[47] — Oh yes, I completely understand what you mean about not being able to leave new types of enemies undefeated. I was quite surprised when I first saw a wizzrobe in the game (well, I heard it first, but you know). I couldn't figure it out what it was unless it turned around and waved. Imagine my sheer shock! One of the things I enjoyed about Breath of the Wild was giving Link the chance to use different kinds of weapons. I should've included an axe somewhere in there, but I liked letting Link fiddle around with boomerangs, spears, pot lids as shields, and so on.

I think that you'll very much enjoy what the lightning strike means. I also think that the scars left by lightning are very striking (no pun intended!) and would fit with the gradual accumulation of scars that Link has been gathering since the opening of the story.

I absolutely did intend to bring the koroks in, but I was waiting for the right moment to do so outside of Hestu. Given that koroks are considered to be rare in the game, yet they're all over the map seemingly just waiting for someone to come by and find them, I found it ridiculous that the game implied only Link was capable of seeing them or something like that. I thought, instead, that it would make more sense for koroks to be genuinely rare outside of the Korok Forest. I also wanted for Link to have plenty of time to spend in the isolation of the wilds, since that was a large theme in the early part of the story prior to Link's big epiphany while in Parapa. Having her constantly run into koroks would have ruined the mood a bit.

As for Sarie themself, I'm not going to make comments on your predictions, but let me just tell you that reading your predictions is really, really fun, and I always look forward to them! You're very insightful on things. Time will tell just how correct you are, both about whether Sarie is 'actually' Saria (whatever that means), and what Link guiding Sarie home will entail. Part of Sarie's character, though, is the fact that it's high time Link got some more permanent travelling companions now that she's gotten her character development regarding how she feels about the wilds.

[48] — Link doesn't faint all that often! She's just exhausted after everything's that happened, and having a sudden anxiety attack after clawing your way up the path to the capital of Lanayru is exhausting indeed.

And of course Link's going to turn people towards her by cooking. At the very least, she's going to try. As for the negative reception by the zora, it could push her a few steps back, but we already got her being pushed a few steps back when she remembered Impa's comments back in Parapa. Does she need another push back?

Yep, Link doesn't really know that much about bigger politics. I give a few hints here and there regarding the politics of Hyrule, but it's not something that's interesting to Link as a character—even if it's interesting to me as a writer!—so I mostly left it out of the story, because the story is from Link's perspective and thus focuses on what she would focus on (mostly food). She's just a delivery gal, as you said. I'm not really a fan of characters stumbling on things by sheer luck. Yes, Link getting the Master Sword was to some extent a matter of chance, but that's just the reason that she's the hero and not some other character. The rest of the story, as much as possible, I tried my best to make things happen because it makes sense and not force anything to the plot, even if that sometimes meant I ended up my story six times longer than I had originally anticipated it to be.

And thank you! I had a lot of fun thinking about zora physiology. The rito also have interesting physiology, but because they mostly live in the air, they're not as different on the outside compared to the zora, who live in water. Reading through the lore given in this game and others in the series, as well as my own knowledge of evolution and fish physiology, helped me with painting the zora people as a proper "monstrous" race, in a manner of speaking. Sharks have many, many teeth, as well as scaly skin. The fact that zora people have some smooth skin and some rough skin is also based off of sharks.

Yep, I've expanded on the personalities of all of the Champions, except arguably with Daruk because he was the first one mentioned in the story so I couldn't do that much at that point, and with Mipha I really wanted to dig down into what being a Champion means to people. With Urbosa, her being a Champion was a huge point of pride, but it was also terrifying because she was reluctant to get in relationships with people due to the chance that she might die. Urbosa came from a small village and climbed to Champion-hood by virtue of her own skills. With Mipha, on the other hand, she was chosen not only for her skills but for her status instead. For her, becoming a Champion is not just about becoming a Champion; it's also about escaping what her life might otherwise be.

You're completely on the mark with regards to being insecure about her appearance! Mipha is worried about being too "zora" in a sense of the word, so in an effort to appear more human (and specifically hylian), she's tried to make her mouth look more human. In the game, her mouth is really tiny and strangely red compared to the mouths of the other zora such as her own brother Sidon. In the story, I reconciled these differences by saying that her mouth is the same size as Sidon's, but that she tries to present herself otherwise, matching her in-game appearance.

And yep, I wanted for Mipha to be last, because she's the Champion who knew Link before everything. This entire section is huge on looking at Link's childhood and what kind of person Link was before everything that happened. Daruk was the simplest to write about, because that's the point where the story and the game are most similar in terms of Link being quiet and keeping her suffering internal. Revali showed you what kind of person Link was at the end, when everything was going well. Urbosa showed you what kind of person Link was right after getting the Master Sword. And now Mipha is showing you what kind of person Link was before the Master Sword.

[49] — That's right! It's the forty-ninth chapter, and Link has finally accepted herself. It's been a very long journey of her accepting herself little by little, but it's been worth every step of the way. Of course, that doesn't mean that Link's story or character development are over. She's still going to have a lot to learn, but this is an incredible step forward.

As for the zora people and their remembering of Link, most of them knew Link—indeed—as the girl who made them food before! And many of them didn't know Mipha personally. I also suggest that the zora don't know that much about hylians and that few people understand what really happened during the Great Calamity. It's the people who may be more privy to Mipha's private life that are more distrustful of Link, but the average zora person has no reason to dislike her. I'm glad that the reception was touching to read! I enjoyed writing it. The zora have the most touchy-feely culture in Hyrule, which is difficult for Link, who has bad problems with anxiety and whatnot. But she didn't have as much of a panic attack this time. Good for her.

And your comment here:

"And while her cooking might indeed serve as her personal calling card, King Zora is still a king. And she's the country girl with lots of courage and a big destiny and a fancy title and not much else. It's brilliant."

is 100% correct (and thank you for the kind words). She might have a big title and big responsibilities on her shoulders, but she's still Link who would never show up to a meeting empty-handed. And Dorephan is still looking out for his people as their king.

As for the lynel, I think that the next chapter will be very interesting to you (this one that you're about ot read), whenever you get a chance to read.

Until next time, I hope that you're well and that life isn't crushing you under its busy hand!

To all of my readers: please note that this chapter contains the most or second-most scene of graphic violence in all of Delicious in Wilds. If you wish to skip, the main fight starts at the paragraph "She listens to the twang of a bow. Link looks up overhead to see the faint yellow spark of the arrow hurtling down directly towards her, too small and too fast to even attempt to catch with stasis," and ends at the paragraph "She lets herself lie in the mud on her side. When she opens her mouth, the mud seeps into the lower curve of her right cheek, but she sucks in breaths stenched of earth and blood and rot through her raw throat that bubbles up blood." However, even after that paragraph, there are continuous mentions to the injuries as well as talk of blood until the end of the chapter. If you choose to skip it, I'll provide a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter. Please take care.


Chapter Fifty: Hearty Salmon Risotto

The cheer that wells up from the crowd threatens to bowl Link over entirely. Abruptly, hands are all around, covering her limbs, touching her skin, tugging on her dress, stroking her hair. She squeezes shut her eyes. Link struggles to breathe as the bodies close in around her, and yet, now, not even this can sway the joy bubbling up from her stomach with the taste of crab legs and stir-fry. Not vomit, no, but rather the sensation of wholeness.

Besides, Link hears the Lanayrish around her take crab legs from the tray. She listens to them crunch down upon them. She leans in to their soft moans of pleasure, to their cries of the crab legs' deliciousness, to their delight from the food.

When the tray empties, she feels a pair of hands wrap around her waist, crinkling the dress; suddenly her boots rise from the ground. She wriggles her legs yet her feet do not reach the surface of the water. Link blinks her eyes open to see Sidon physically lifting her above the crowd. He grins at her as he looks ahead to the King Zora.

Sidon sets her down at the edge of the King Zora's pool. Link bows to the King Zora, who barely bows back with his neck, evidently unable to much move the swell of his body.

"We must call an assembly to introduce you as the Champion of Hylia, the Hero of Hyrule—" Link nods her head to the rhythm of the full title she has heard so many times. "—Her Majesty's Knight, O Courageous Link. Many of my people have known merely the hero of propaganda, but have not known you as yourself." She continues to bob her head, and then the words wash over her, and she starts to swing her head from side to side. "No? You would rather not?"

She bows to the King Zora again. "I...I don't want that many people looking at me at once."

"At least you're honest, my lass, hoo hoo!" The King Zora lifts a hand. Link hears the masses behind her walk backwards in unison. "Clear the throne pool."

The Lanayrish shuffle out, along with most of the guards. The waves from the crowds' movement thump Link into the water. Sidon picks her up and holds her like a stuffed animal, his hands around her armpits. Link's legs dangle helplessly; her boots splash the water when she kicks.

At length the masses disperse to leave only herself, the King Zora, Sidon, a lithe purple zora who stands next to Sidon, and the green zora with the drooping fins in the quiet throne room. She corrects herself: that is, the throne pool.

Sidon sets Link back down. The heavy dress submerges once more into the water. He claps her on the back and leaves his hand there, drumming his fingers against her spine enough to vibrate her body.

The King Zora beams at her. He lifts his arms. "Link, it is most wonderful to see you again...though I see that you no longer carry the blade of legend: the sword that seals the darkness. You have surely picked our Champion well, my lad!"

Sidon flashes his father a thumbs up. His polished teeth sparkle and shine. "She picked herself." Link feels her smile curve up. "Our Goddess does not err! I believed that we would find someone." He pumps his fist into the air. "And I have never seen someone take on the gauntlet in such a record time as our Link!"

Our Link. Link inclines her head. The pressure of that our could have crushed her spine beneath its weight several months ago, but not now. Not now. Now she stands erect, her spine straight, her hands at the dip in her hips to feel the slate at her right and the telescope at her left, the twin aeges that carry her forward step by step, right and left, left and right.

"Tell me, my lass." The King Zora flourishes his wrist. "What has happened since the Great Calamity? We heard that you and the Princess both perished...and the Champions as well." He starts to shift in the water though his breathing hoarsens and she can see his gills flapping in the water to keep up.

She can hear the concern in Sidon's voice. "Father, you needn't push yourself too—"

"Is there a chance...is there a chance that my daughter could live yet?" THe King Zora forces himself up in the water. The waves wash Link against Sidon but he holds her carefully against the current that threatens to overpower her. "If you could live...then she..." Link feels the blankness return to her gaze, and the King Zora slumps back. The wave splashes into her mouth. She can feel herself drowning down. From the water and perhaps from something else. "I see."

"I'm sorry," Link signs. She hears the purple zora who stands next to Sidon whispering into his ear the same words that Link says. "I don't know exactly what happened. I...lost my memory of everything." The King Zora's eyes widen. His third eyelids flicker in and out of his eyes. She explains: how she awoke a few months ago in the Shrine of Resurrection, how she picked up the slate without understanding its significance, how she walked the land once known as Hyrule—the King Zora remarks that in Lanayru they still call it Hyrule, for most everyone knows it as Hyrule—how she calmed the Divine Beasts seemingly by chance at first and then more deliberately, how she has gradually regained some of her memories, but not many, and not of the events. "I haven't seen..." She pauses. "The only person I know who was alive then—the only two people—are Lady Impa of Kakariko and her sister Purah of Hateno. But neither of them has told me much of what happened. Lady Impa has refused all of my questions, and...I never asked Purah. I didn't know anything while I was with her. They might be able to answer your questions, though."

"I see," the King Zora repeats. He does not speak for a moment, and when he does she flinches back. "Since the Great Calamity...we have kept to ourselves. Regretfully. We have received few visitors, as we have no villages on the border." Link nods, although most of his words go over her head. She glances at the empty tray of crab legs, of which she only had one, and her stomach rumbles. "Many of the other people in Hyrule may live their lives short and bear as many offspring as they can, not unlike fish that migrate each spring to spawn—" Link blinks at that, but he goes on. "—yet we do not." He beams. "We live long, hoo hoo, yes we do. The Goddess Zola has blessed up with lives as long as the rivers run. Yet..." His features contort. "Since the Great Calamity, most of us have moved inwards to the city of Ruto, to consolidate those that have survived. I have heard that the other people of Hyrule have proliferated well in the absence of the Calamitous One since then, and I pray to their patrons the Seven that the monsters which have reappeared in Lanayru have not spread elsewhere."

Link considers the burnt town in Eldin, the empty lakeside in Tabantha, the evacuated villages in Parapa.

"But few children have been born to us in the interim. Certainly some fear that we may never recover, but I have faith in the most wonderful Goddess Zola."

Sidon snatches a fistful of air. "We won't just recover! We'll surpass! All the way to the stars! I believe in us! With faith and our Goddess at our sides, there's nothing we can't do!"

"I'm afraid we have a wide sea to cross yet, my lad." The King Zora begins to emulate stroking his chin once more. "Regardless, my lass, you have seen for yourself that few in Lanayru live outside of Ruto now. Over the past seventeen moons, the last of the villagers have abandoned their homes to journey here for protection. The awakening of Vah Ruta may wash away the last of our history...if She has not washed them away already. Mm." The King Zora slopes further back into the water, and again Sidon lifts Link up to keep the waves from knocking her prone.

"I can help." Link fishes the slate from its pouch at her right hip. "This slate can activate shrines and the terminals in the Divine Beast. And not just I can use it, too, so if there are any terminals underwater..." She glances at Sidon, who continues to grin as though nothing has gone amiss.

The King Zora's smile returns, if only for a moment. "Most wonderful. We have a shrine in the very Temple of Zola that I would have you activate by the slate. And afterwards..." The King Zora cannot touch his hand to his face for its weight outside of the water; rather, he moves his arm as long as he can and mimics the stroking of his chin as though by a habit from an age long past. "What know you of Vah Ruta, my lass?"

Link rubs the back of her head. "It's a Divine Beast, and it...exists. Yes."

The King Zora erupts into laughter, bellyfuls of mirth that rock the water. Sidon picks up Link to avoid the inevitable drowning of the bearer of the slate.

"Then let me shed some silver upon the situation." He hrms; his timbre grows solemn once more. "Several months ago, Vah Ruta awakened following a twelve hundred moons of dormancy. I had never thought to see Her moving again.

"...when She awakened, She remained in the East Reservoir where She was left after those days of woe. We feared that She would attack directly as She had during the Great Calamity. The Goddess spared us that, hoo hoo. Rather, Vah Ruta lifted Her trunk and began to spray water." He clears his throat. "I see the seeming ridiculousness in the idea of too much water spelling trouble for us who can breathe within."

Link cocks her head to the side; she has had no such thought, nor any thoughts at at all, save for when she can eat next and why she neglected to stuff herself with crab legs while she had the chance. Not that she has no compassion for the zora. She has borne the slate, and she will calm the Divine Beast.

That does not stop the hunger creeping into her belly.

"The current now moves too swiftly. Already we have had to drain more of our city than the reservoirs can hold...and, may their spirits swim swift to the seas of the Goddess, we have had some of our own washed away in the tide."

The King Zora's third membrane covers his eyes.

Link looks down upon her reflection in the water. If only she had moved more quickly. If she hadn't spent the time she did in Romani Ranch.

"At first She let off rain infrequently throughout the day, and we had no fear. Of late She has poured the rain continuously and with a faster pace each time. Three moons ago—" Link counts on her fingers: around the time when she scaled Vah Naboris. "—the rain has become such a torrent that the East Reservoir is draining much more swiftly than we can divert water back to it. In due time even Ruto shall sweep away under the deluge.

"Yet the Goddess have sent to us the Champion of Hylia that She promised." The King Zora bows his head towards Link again, his breathing belaboured once more. "I shall put my faith in Her, and in you, my lass."

Link lifts her chin. Her stomach gurgles again but she pushes down her hunger momentarily to seek answers. "I'm sorry to ask this, but...could you tell me what happened in the Calamity, exactly?" She elaborates on what she has already gleaned, and the King Zora inclines his head.

"There is not much more that I could tell you. The Divine Beasts, as far as I understood, never moved, no matter how the King of Hyrule's researchers sought to understand them. The Champions, the Princess, and yourself were on an expedition to Mount Nayru at the time when the first signs of the Great Calamity—the violet malice that began to seep up from the ground itself, it seemed—awoke, and the Divine Beasts with it. We took this as a sign that the Goddesses were on our side, and the Champions made to their Divine Beast to prepare. But...no sooner had my daughter entered Vah Ruta with her slate in hand did the Divine Beast turn against her. We could only watch in horror as Vah Ruta sealed Herself away, dripping in Malice, and tore through Lanayru with nothing but death in Her wake."

The King Zora's voice falls silent.

He does not weep. She wonders if perhaps the zora cannot weep.

"But you have the destiny to turn back the tides, O Champion of Hyrule, O Hero of Hylia, O Knight of Her Majesty, O Courageous Link." The King Zora coughs. "Forgive me for saying the title wrong. Ahem." Link rubs the back of her neck. "The Champion of Hylia, the—"

"By the Goddess Zola, I cannot allow this farce to go on."

Link notices him signing from the corner of her vision. She and the King Zora turn their heads towards him at the same moment: the elderly green zora, his fins drooping limply from the sides of his head.

"Whatever do you mean, Muzu?" the King Zora inquires, his head fins twitching but evidently unable to rise.

Muzu slaps his hand onto his own chest. The fins quiver. He swims forward through the water. "Does Your Majesty not see that you have allowed the eel to slither into Your Majesty's reef? It is this Champion of Hylia that took our Princess Mipha from us!"

"...our Link did no such thing, Muzu." The King Zora's eyes narrow.

"Your Majesty, have you forgotten that it is this Champion of Hylia who by the Princess Zora Mipha's own admission swayed her in becoming a Champion and leaving us without a future queen!"

His eyes narrow further into thin slits, the diamond-shaped pupils barely visible. "I myself chose her as the most worthy representative of Lanayru. Dare you criticise my judgment, Muzu? This was no fault of Link's."

Muzu clenches his hands into fists. "Princess Mipha herself told me that she never protested becoming Champion, for her supposed 'love'—including of this Champion of Hylia—that led her to sacrifice herself!"

The King Zora coughs. "You would blame Link for my daughter wishing to protect people? You would blame my daughter for trusting in my judgment that she would best represent the Goddess?"

Muzu pulls on his facial fins. He wrings his hands. "Then consider this, Your Majesty. The supposed Champion of Hylia mysteriously vanished with the Princess of Hyrule the moment the Calamitous One struck. The Champions...including Your Majesty's own daughter, might I add...perished in the Divine Beasts. A century passes. Then, as the Divine Beasts awaken once more and monsters begin to intrude upon our land, the Champion of Hylia returns to 'calm' them, but now with the Champions and the Princess of Hyrule out of the way. Does not this seem awfully convenient?"

The King Zora makes a noise of disbelief in the back of his throat. "...by Zola's banks, what are you suggesting, Muzu?"

"I know not the truth, Your Majesty," Muzu signs, "but something smells beastly here. Much too convenient for my liking."

Link draws herself inwards.

"Enough! Not convenient, Muzu." The King Zora lifts a hand. "It makes perfect sense that the Goddess would send the Champion of Hylia at the reawakening of the world's woes. The Calamitous One vanished twelve hundred moons ago. Perhaps the Goddess thought best for the Champion of Hylia to vanish as well, until the world needed her most. And now the world has need of her. If the Calamitous One returns, she will face it with courage, wisdom, power, and—you notwithstanding, perhaps—faith."

"If Muzu doesn't believe in her," Sidon adds in, digging his fingers into Link's back with his thumb beneath her left shoulder blade, "then I shall believe in her twice over to make up for it!"

"Thank you, my lad. Now, Muzu, would you tell our Link what you know of Vah Ruta?" The King Zora sits back. "She will need preparation to quell the storm."

"Your Majesty may believe in this false saviour, but I do not." Muzu turns away. Link observes a strange pearly fluid seeping from pores at his throat and the backs of his thighs. "I will not forgive the one who stole our precious Princess Mipha from us. I will not forgive a hylian."

"Muzu—"

Muzu dives into the water. He swims from the throne pool even while the King Zora calls after him. The purple zora by Sidon's side frowns. Link moves backwards to shrink further into herself.

She would not trust herself either.

Muzu quits the chamber, and the water grows far too still.

The King Zora sighs. "My apologies, my lass. Muzu was my daughter's mentor when she was younger and in training to become queen. He...was very protective of her. My lad, you were too young to remember then." Sidon nods decisively. "Forgive him, my lass."

Link dips her head.

"My lad, go with her to fetch Muzu. I am certain that he will calm down once he understands that you hold the only key to quieting Vah Ruta, whether he wishes to trust you or not." The King Zora coughs. His breath comes up full of water. "And for the matter, I swear by the Goddess Zola, may I never touch water again if I lie, that I have nothing but the Goddess's own faith in you, my lass."

Link bows to him. "Thank you," she signs.

When the purple zora finishes whispering in Sidon's ear, he pats Link between the shoulder blades and leads her out from the water. By now the water has drained further, to only halfway up her chest. Link finds it easier to swim after Sidon than to attempt to walk in the dress, the fish-fins weighed down with silver heavy enough to stay submerged rather than float on the water.

Sidon takes her to something of a central square. The Lanayrish milling about gape at Link as she swims by, but Sidon keeps her safely wedged between his torso and his right hand. He calls out to the other zora to say hello, and they call back to him or sign—the purple zora repeats their messages—and occasionally Sidon signs to them, presumably to those who cannot hear. Sidon seems to know each and every one of the residents of Ruto; he inquires about their lives and their days with a knowing intimacy that boggles Link.

From the heart of the square rises a statue that catches Link's breath and chucks it back down her throat to choke her. A statue of Mipha carved of silver, holding a trident in one hand and a medical implement in the other, gazing down kindly upon the city. In front of her, on a small platform raised out of the water by her feet, lie offerings of flowers and food left by others. Link observes rice-balls seeded with fleet-lotus and smiles faintly to herself.

The same rice-ball that Mipha held when she rescued Link from the water for the first time, back in the province of Ordona, in the village of Ordon, in the river that ran through its heart.

Muzu himself stands in front of the statue, his gaze riveted to just below the silver Mipha's face as though turned slightly away in respect. Sidon and Link approach. Muzu does not break eye contact from the statue of Mipha.

"What would you have of me?"

"Father asked you to tell the Champion of Hylia—"

Link rubs the back of her head. "Please...I would prefer to be called just Link."

The purple zora whispers in Sidon's ear, and he nods, clinging tightly to Link. "—to tell our Link what she needs to know to quell the storm of Vah Ruta and to bring our Goddess's favour upon Vah Ruta once more!"

Muzu's gills flare up and down. Then he bows his head. "Very well." He flourishes a hand at her. "Prince Sidon." The purple zora by Sidon's side speaks more rapidly. "You offered this...churl a trial."

"That I did! A trial that our Link cleared effortlessly!" Sidon grins and claps Link on the back so strongly that Link nearly tumbles forward into the water.

"Would you allow me to give her a trial of my own, to further test her worth?" Muzu coughs. "You have given her a trial of power. Allow me to present a trial of wisdom."

Link rests her hand on her chest. "I will do anything."

"Good, good." Muzu pulls on the rightmost facial fin that flops from his face. "We have observed that a strike of lightning quiets Vah Ruta for a time. To quell Vah Ruta, we need to gather a method to administer electricity to Her sources of power from a safe distance. Thus, I considered the concept of a cannon, or perhaps topaz arrows."

"Most clever of an idea!" Sidon cuts in. "As expected of the King's chief advisor, Muzu!"

"Yes, thank you, Your Highness. However..." Muzu touches the back of his hand to his forehead. "To my most deepest regret, we have no such arrows, nor sufficient charged topaz for a cannon."

Link tilts her head to the side. She heard from Glepp and Misan that merchants have come from near and far to recharge topaz in the gauntlet of lightning monsters, and yet the Lanayrish royal palace itself has not sufficient topaz to even make arrows?

Muzu continues on: "There lives on Ploymus Mountain a terrible monster. The lynel, a beast of lightning eyes and thunder hooves. One of the most intelligent spawns of malice, the lynel crafts his own blades and fletches his own arrows. If you are careful and quick, you can surreptitiously filch enough arrows to quiet Vah Ruta for a safe approach. By my calculations you will need twe..." He pauses. "...hundred. You will need two hundred. It is the only way that you may near Vah Ruta without fear, lest you intend to swim to the East Reservoir yourself."

She touches her chin. "Has anyone else tried to get the arrows?"

"Yes. We are far too..." He curls his lip. "...fragile to electricity to make the trip. His Majesty the King Zora and His Highness the Prince Zorabelieve deeply in the prophecy: the Goddess Herself shall send to us a Champion of Hylia to deliver us from Vah Ruta. Then, O Champion of Hylia, won't you be the one to bring us the topaz arrows that we need so desperately?"

Link nods. She salutes Muzu. "I will."

"But of course! As expected of our Champion of Hylia! I believe in your most impressive abilities, Link!" Sidon fists the air. "And I will accompany you, Link, to show you the way to Shatterback Point!"

Muzu jumps. "Ah, Your Highness, there is no need for you to trouble yourself so."

Sidon slaps Link heartily on the back, which launches Link into Muzu. Muzu shoves Link away from him, and she stumbles backwards back into Sidon's waiting palm. "Then I shall inform Father! Worry not, Link! Father will send someone with you!"

Muzu clears his throat. "On second thought, it would be best if Your Highness went with the...Champion of Hylia. Most certainly, do not gather the arrows for the Champion, and please stay far from the lynel for fear of your life, Your Highness."

"But of course!" Sidon squeezes Link on the shoulder. "Come, Link! Let us take to the mountaintop, where your trial awaits! I have utmost faith that you will ace this trial with flying melodies! Ah!" Sidon turns towards the purple zora to embrace her. "Thank you kindly for your assistance, Lari! You have my eternal gratitude!"

"Anything for Your Highness." Lari bows and takes Sidon's wrists in her hands. "This is a dismissal, I take it."

"Indeed! Link, you and I will travel up to Ploymus ourselves!" He turns so speedily towards Link that she wobbles to stay upright in the waves. "Link, if you've need of me, a tap on the wrist will catch my attention!"

"Your Highness..." Lari compresses Sidon's wrists together. "Is this wise? She who cannot speak, and he who cannot see..."

"Ah! I suppose that you're right!" Sidon grins at her. "We need someone who cannot hear to complete the trifecta, and then no evil shall we done by us!"

Lari frowns. "Your Highness, that is not what I..."

"Now come, O Champion of Hylia!" Sidon shakes his wrists from her grasp; he thumps his fist against his chest. Lari lowers her hands to her hips. "Link, please follow me."

Link thanks Muzu and Lari before falling into step beside Sidon, who takes her hand in his much larger one.

Muzu's gaze follows her as they leave. She glances back for a second, towards the statue, just to see Mipha's face once more.

A strange emptiness hollows her belly: she has ever so slightly misremembered Mipha's features.

Link removes the fish-fin dress. She tucks it over her arm to place into her saddlebags. At some point in the future, maybe when the world has settled down again, she might learn to wear dresses without trousers underneath. She asks for Sidon to show her to wherever they keep Ilia to adequately prepare herself; Sidon complies. When Link spots the deep black horse with the white mane that she has knocked all this time, she runs towards Ilia to fling her arms around her companion's neck and hug her tightly. She turns around towards the nearest stablehand and launches into a long explanation of what exactly to feed Ilia, what sorts of foods she prefers, how to stuff pumpkins for her if possible, when to exercise her and how to walk her, how long to let her sleep, how much sugar and salt intake Ilia can receive, where to best scratch her behind the ears, how to make the honeyed biscuits that Link sometimes gives her as treats. Sidon has to lead her away from the harried stablehand, who has taken out a stone notebook to scribble down everything that Link has told her.

Sarie, on the other hand, appears to have poofed into thin air, or perhaps they have shied away from the number of people about. Link notes to herself to find Sarie at a later point, if Sarie has not elected to strike out on their own. For now she need worry of this lynel.

Retrieving her satchel, Link places it over her shoulder, then withdraws the fire-light spear and the sword given to her by Riju. And the topaz rod that she slots in her belt, just in case that proves handy. She pats herself down to ensure she has everything she needs. For a moment she panics, but then: there's her metal ingredient box, still safe in her satchel.

Link gives Ilia a final pet on the head, thanks the stablehand, promises to later cook her a meal of gratitude, stretches down to touch her toes, and asks Sidon to lead the way.

Sidon instructs Link to climb onto his back, to take hold of his shoulders, to not let go. He crouches down in the water and positions his hands behind him to give Link a leg up. By Link's request, Sidon covers the rough scales of his back with a layer of leather he affixes to himself by a series of belts. Under his commands, Link wraps her arms around his neck and attempts to hug his back with her legs, although he proves too broad for her to quite hook all the way around. Snapping her fingers, she removes the length of cord from the kitchens and lashes herself to Sidon's back.

"But of course! How clever you are, Link! I can see why my sister admired you so! Now, please, take a deep breath!"

With that Sidon leaps off of the edge of Ruto. Link screams all the way down until the plunge into the water corks her into a chilly silence. She swallows water; it ices down her throat and she winces, clawing her fingers into the softer flesh of Sidon's throat.

Sidon pops out of the lake beneath Ruto. The second her mouth touches air Link coughs water from her lungs in her desperate bid to inhale fresh air.

"Are you well, Link? One tap for no, two for yes yes yes!" Link waits to catch her breath, then taps twice. "Most wonderful! Up the waterfall we go!" Sidon turns towards her to show off his grin. From this close to his face, Link can see how his golden eyes have clouded over in a foggy silver, and a shard of topaz goes off over her head. "Please keep your limbs on me at all times and don't stretch them out too much! I'd rather you break a limb in the figurative sense than the literal! And let me know if anything's amiss! Just...do whatever it is that you just did with your hands!"

Link nods against the back of Sidon's head. The curve of her cheek catches the patch of rough skin above the leather; she feels the warmth of blood welling up on her face.

"Take a deep breath!"

Sidon points up towards the waterfall overhead, and Link senses the wound on her cheek pucker up as the blood drains from her face and the rain overhead mats down her hair.

Either this will kill her or she will get to see a truly incredible view. And if she gets to see a truly incredible view, then she will have to make herself a meal fit for the occasion. And if that happens—the meal makes itself worthwhile.

She holds fast to the consideration of what meals to make, holds fast to the fish she could fry or the crab she could roast, to the tree nuts she could salt or the mushrooms she could grill, to the butter she could butter or the salt she could salt, to the infinite possibilities available to her, all atop some bed of rice so that she can scarf down the very ingredient that makes her believe in the Golden Goddesses, for only a sacred divinity could have made something as wonderful as rice.

Sidon leaps into the waterfall.

By some force, she could not explain—or perhaps by his determination and his faith alone—Sidon begins to propel himself up the waterfall, accelerating himself against the current, skimming himself out of the water nearly vertically to slam into the cascade once more before launching himself out again. Slowly he edges his way up the waterfall with his hylian-shaped cargo in tow.

Still gripping him firmly with her arms and her legs alike, Link twists her neck to look down below them. Both the rain and the waterfall slick down her back. Her undershirt sticks to her skin. The spray chills over her eyes, and she closes them against the rising splash of water.

Sidon launches himself from the crest of the waterfall into the air; by instinct, Link lets go of his throat to open the paraglider with its rubberised underside and inlaid topaz top. Her paraglider, changed and exchanged by her travels, just as she has been.

She hears Sidon yelp as the paraglider catches him from his dive. "Link? Link, what is that!?"

Swallowing hard, she closes the paraglider again. Sidon pitches forward into a dive. He rolls through the air to cleave into the water of the lake.

Link wraps her arms around his neck again.

They swim up the next waterfall, and then the next, and then still further up the next, until Link has lost track; she hangs on by the dish that she has decided to cook. Salmon risotto. Or trout risotto. Some sort of fish risotto for sure over rice. With roasted mushrooms. And a small bowl of salt-salmon soup with crackers.

Salmon risotto. Salmon risotto. Salmon risotto. Even when the water fills her throat and she chokes on it—even when the chill seeps through her clothing to submerge the underside of her skin with ice—even when the rough scales on the back of Sidon's neck scrape her forehead and nose—she murmurs the words to herself over and over.

Salmon risotto.

Salmon risotto.

Salmon ris—ing up out of the water to land on the shore.

"We're here!" Sidon announces with hands at his hips. He unties the cord around their waists. Link slips off of him into the mud, which sticks coolly to her trousers. Whipping around towards Link, he extends a hand to her, though he does not quite face her, and his hand does not quite point towards her. "Since we're out of the water, Link, it's a little hard for me to tell where you are! So, will you hold my hand until we arrive at the lynel!" He offer his palm.

Link reaches out to him. She signs into his palms an affirmative. Sidon flashes her a grin so bright that she has to squint against the light reflected from his sharks' teeth despite the torrential downpour of rain above obscuring the moon. Or the sun. She can no longer tell day from night.

Instead she offers Sidon her right hand, which he folds in his left and gently squeezes. Link helps him remove the leather from his back. Wiping the rain from her eyes with the back of her right hand, she glances up the trail that they will follow: a mountain of glittery black rock that looks carved from the night sky, flecks of silver and gold hidden within that twinkle as do the uncountable stars, or like a drizzle of honey sauce over a hearty meal of fish.

Link drools.

Sidon ushers her up the rocky path. A few lizalfos slumber curled up upon tall rocks, their bodies darkened to match the hue of the stone. At this distance, they could pass for cute beasties that Link might have petted or fed flops of fish if not for their having wreaked havoc and chaos over the land once known as Hyrule, if not for their having taken the lives of so many. If she leaves them alive, they could go on to invade Ruto or attack travellers. And yet she could not clamber up the cliffs in the rain if she wanted to.

She tries anyway.

Her efforts leave her plopped in the mud. Link dusts her off—muds herself off—and tries again. Sidon inquires what she is doing. She jumps back up onto the slippery stone. Link climbs up a few handholds before she senses the rain under her slick palms sliding her downwards. With a grunt, she leaps up with fingers poised like a bird of prey. Rather than talons around a mouse, her fingers clutch at the cliffside that betrays her and sends her careening downwards to splat the mud below.

"Link, are you feeling well!? The lynel is this way!" Sidon calls after her, his chin tilted up to the rock. Link reaches up from her sitting position to prod him in the knee. "Ah, there you are! I hope you have been enjoying the most pleasant mud! Come now! I believe in you and your ability to recover the topaz arrows from the lynel! Do be careful, Link!" Sidon puts his hand on her hand, ruffling her hair in the process, and then feels for one shoulder, then the other, to pluck her up from the mud. "I was too young to know you then, before the Calamity, but I'd like to get to know you now!" He grins widely as he folds her into an embrace that leaves her face planted squarely on his lower abdomen. The hug sways her from side to side. "I am most overjoyed to have had a chance to meet you! So take care of yourself out there, Link! I have nothing but faith in you! I'll meet you after you finish, arms full of topaz arrows and face full of smiles, as expected of our Champion of Hylia! Perhaps, when you return, we may speak yet of the past and people we share!"

Link nods into his stomach. At least he cannot see how badly his scales have scratched her face, nor can he feel her bloodied cheeks for the rain that wets everything regardless.

She glances in the direction where Sidon points.

"Simply walk between those rocks up the mountain! Upon your emergence into a clearing near the summit, you'll surely be at the lynel! You'll know when you find the topaz arrows scattered around! I'll be waiting for you here!" Sidon squeezes her into another hug, this time picking her off of the ground to twirl her around until her head spins and the grey clouds above whirl into a single funnel of darkness.

When Sidon sets her down again upon the ground, Link wobbles around. Her vision doubles Sidon into a pair of zora boys flashing her a pair of thumbs up. She nods at him—though he cannot see her—and starts to tumble her nauseated self down the path. It takes her a moment and Sidon's shout to recognise that she has gone off in the exact wrong direction.

She checks that she still has her paraglider and her slate, her telescope and her cooking pot, her spear and her sword, and then she begins the trek towards the lynel waiting atop the mountain.

Link creeps between the rocks. A few yellow chuchu bother her, but she pierces them and harvests their jelly. If all goes south—or if all goes north, as her Parapan friends would say—she can lob electrified jelly at the lynel while she makes her escape.

Or loose an arrow into the lynel's face.

As the path up the mountain widens, she notes a column of smoke extending into the sky and—more importantly—smells the scent of grilling mushrooms. She sniffs: zapshrooms, chillshrooms, and silent shrooms. A dizzying combination. Link can nearly taste the heady mixture of cooling and tingling, numbed to a pleasant tickle on her tongue.

A single topaz arrow lies in the path. The arrowhead does not consist merely of bone or wood with a shard of topaz within; rather, it has a dual-pronged structure entirely made of cracked topaz, with a metal band riveting it to the shaft. She touches her forefinger to one of the prongs. The sharpness pricks her enough to draw blood. Sucking on her finger, Link notes how the impact of the sharp prongs in flesh would cause the metal band to compress down upon the topaz and unleash the electricity all at once.

The girl with the golden hair would have loved to see this.

So would Romani, in case the Them ever return.

Link slots the arrow into her quiver.

She comes upon the clearing that Sidon mentioned, in a grove of sparse trees and rock. Link notes a small garden of various herbs running along the perimeter. Far on the other end, she observes the summit that rises into a sharp peak that drops off into the impossibile infinities below. Shatterback Point.

And rice.

In a low groove at the slope of the mountain, she spots the tell-tale signs of a small flooded rice-field. Just large enough to feed one or two or four. Running her tongue over her lips, Link wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

Spent topaz arrows embed in the trees and rocks. Whole ones litter the ground. Link sneaks forward to pluck arrows from the ground.

She counts arrows in bundle of ten as she moves through the garden of herbs, cautious not to step on the plants if she can avoid it. Link crouches behind a rock. From here the scent of roasted mushrooms comes even more strongly. She peeks out from behind the edge of the stone. Her ponytail bobs from the dripping of rain.

In the centre of the clearing rests a person beside a horse. Under a lizalfos-skin tarp. With a horned helmet of some sort upon their head. A water barrel of fresh fish sits next to them. Link studies a fish flap from the barrel only for the person to lightning-quick snatch the escaping fish and chuck it back into the barrel. They kneel or they crouch—Link cannot tell in the cover of rain—over a cooking pot where she watches them chop up zapshrooms without protective equipment, touching the fungi with their bare hands. Zapshrooms, and some sort of strange white mushroom that she has never seen before. A truffle, maybe. She watches the chef fwip a salmon from the barrel to shove a fistful of truffle inside the fish's mouth in mid-air. When the chef withdraw their hand again, Link can see the truffle, stuffed through the fish's gullet in a single motion of the arm.

Link whistles appreciatively.

The chef raises their head towards her, and Link's eyes widen.

The face that peers at her from under the lizalfos-skin tarp does not belong to any human, any zora, any korok, any rito, any goron that she knows. A face of glowing slitted eyes and a twitching feline nose. A face of a wide mouth and gums set with thick canines longer and broader than her thumbs. A face that holds nothing but violent violet in its irises, a face with only malice to its name.

The lynel stands. Its red mane brushes out like a halo of fire around its head. Its four hooves paw at the soil while its muscular arms reach for the sword and shield at its sides. A sword wider than her own torso, with a cruel curved blade that she cannot picture dodging, and a shield inlaid with hooks on the front that could stab a thousand and one needles into her flesh if it slammed into her.

Link stares.

The upper torso of a muscular beast-man, somewhere between a lion, a bull, and a human who has eaten far too much meat in their life. The lower torso of a horse, or perhaps more accurately a donkey, with thick legs and hooves tipped in metal-studded horseshoes that audibly shlick into the ground when the lynel walks forward. Flexing its muscles, the lynel tilts back its head. It inhales, and then it roars, loud and long and low.

A challenge if ever Link saw one.

She tiptoes back to squat behind the rock. Though she knows it will not help, she covers her head with the slate.

She listens to the twang of a bow. Link looks up overhead to see the faint yellow spark of the arrow hurtling down directly towards her, too small and too fast to even attempt to catch with stasis.

Link flings herself away. She lands on her back in the mud. The sudden pulse of pain through her right foot—the same foot scarcely healed of having cleaved been in two in the Divine Beast Vah Naboris—sends her recoiling against the ground. Her limbs convulse. She feels her hand thrash against the rock. The lynel's hoofbeats close the distance between them.

She tries to slam her hands against her sides. She tries to lift herself up from the ground. She tries to control the shudders that race pain down her bones and up her veins back to her heart to whip her pulse to the heavens. She tries and she slumps back to the ground. She can feel the vibrations in the soil, can see the plinks in the puddle of rain, and yet her body will not respond.

For all of the Divine Beasts that she has calmed, she has always had beside her the help of Yunobo, of Amali, of Riju.

Perhaps if she cannot shake off a single topaz arrow on her first efforts on her lonesome, she deserves to pass the slate on to another.

A patter of rain plinks onto the tip of her nose. It slides down the bridge to wet her forehead between the eyes.

Her eyelids fly up.

Link clenches her fists. This time not even the spasms of the shock can fight against the determination that courses through her veins and lifts her to her feet directly in front of the lynel.

She tilts her head up. The lynel stands not a pace from her, so close that she can sense the relentless heat radiating from its bulk, as it gazes upon her with its tyrian-tyrant gaze.

It opens its mouth. Link stares at the yellowed fangs curving up from its deep red gums. A breath of rotted fish and putrid egg rolls from its throat to bathe her face in a wall of stench. Her eyes water.

The lynel roars and the sound drowns out Link's heartbeat.

It raises the sword. Just enough heft that Link can see the slight slowness of the arc. There, in that slowness, she sees the barest hint of a promise. There, in that slowness, she sees the thinnest thread of victory.

When the lynel's arm reaches its peak, Link throws herself to the side. The lynel brings the sword down upon the ground; the blade furrows the dirt in two to create a valley of death. Even as her boots touch soil, Link pulls the slate from the pouch at her right hip to lock the lynel in stasis.

She grins and curves her thumb and forefinger into the symbol of all rightness.

Not a second later the lynel rips itself free of the chains of stasis.

Link dodges behind the lynel as it swings its head from side to side in search of her. She rolls towards its hindquarters. Armour protects its chest and sides, but she notes the exposed point on its upper back, around the shoulder blade where its muscles ripple and mountain under its skin with the sheer strain of twisting its thickly veined neck.

Inhaling, Link springs onto the lynel's back, the fire-light spear in her hand.

Immediately she senses the lynel buck beneath her, but she plunges the spear directly into the back of its neck. The fire-light passes through its taut flesh. Link smells the searing of its muscle through its neck. She whips the spear back out—the fire-light disappears again into the hilt—and once more stabs in, the neck far too muscular and wide for her to dream of simply slicing its head off.

And yet, if she stabs enough, then surely the lynel will fall.

The lynel falls. To its front knees. The impact knocks Link forward. She wraps her hands around the hilt of the spear, hoping to keep herself in place on the spear embedded in the lynel's flesh, but the fire-light—which has aided her so greatly in her fights against the Malice and against that in which weapons might become stuck—quietly flickers off. She blinks rapidly.

The lynel bucks her high up into the air.

For a long moment Link hangs motionless at the zenith of the climb. Eaindrops suspend around her like so many glittering diamonds. She could reach out and balance one on the tip of her finger, to let the raindrop plunge into her palm and shine there.

Instead she draws the bow from her back.

The two-pronged arrow screams through the skies as the lynel sprints by beneath her. It sinks into the flesh of the lynel's brow. The topaz breaks. Electricity spills over the lynel's skin, and it freezes for a moment while the shock thunders down its hooves. She looses another arrow: into its left eye. The prong pierces its eyelids; the wound sprays crimson. Electricity bursts the jelly of the eyeball, and topaz-lightning chars it into a thick caramelised gloop. A mixture of blood, eye jelly, and tears congeals around the open socket in a crust along the lower rim. The upper eyelid hangs limply from the top of the socket, twitching, the eyelashes burned off from the shock.

The lynel roars.

Link lands on her boots to aim another arrow at its second eyeball, but the lynel twists back its left hand and throws its shield at her. Mouth gaping open, she somersaults to the side to avoid the needle-studded weapon.

She hears the lynel string its bow.

Link reaches desperately into the satchel. Her hand closes around the cold glass of the elixir vial. Pitching her arm back, she throws the vial at the lynel's face with every gram of strength she can muster.

The lynel pulls back on its metal bow as the vial of elixir explodes in its face and coats its face in green.

Green.

Not electric chuchu jelly, but green.

The glass shards embed in the lynel's face. She ogles the ruined remains of its collapsed nose, of the blood streaming from its brow, of the shard stuck in its empty socket even as the muscles that once controlled the eye constrict around the shard, which wedges the glass deeper and deeper into its flesh.

The lynel looses the topaz arrow.

Once more Link tries to cartwheel away, but abrupt pain just below her left armpit rips a scream from her lungs. The shock of electricity a second thereafter thumps—first—her knees into the mud and—then—the remainder of her body. Her stomach—her chest—her chin hit the ground. The agony of the lightning pulsating through her thuds her heart. She senses it threatening to break free of her chest or else shatter apart entirely. Her limbs, convulsing through the mud, can barely move. Link bites her lower lip. The lip split apart under the force of her teeth, and the pain sharpens her consciousness to a single point.

She wrenches her arm into the satchel. Another vial of glass pushes into her palm; Link closes her fingers around it. She hears the lynel charging her with its sword held in front of it and the metal spikes on its hooves leaving holes in the ground—but she will not let it leave holes in her flesh. Grinding her the teeth of her upper jaw into the bloody mess of the skin above her chin, Link forces her arm up and lobs.

The vial does not explode in the lynel's face but at its throat. The electricity of the chuchu jelly brings the lynel's legs to a lock. Its momentum propels the lynel forward. It skids through the mud on electrified limbs. Its blade drops into the mud.

She grabs the sword in hand.

Link pulls herself out of the mud that forms a coat of cold over her skin. She listens to the lynel panting as it starts to recover from the shock. Fingers shivering, she grasps the hilt of the blade. So heavy that she can barely pick it up. So heavy that she cannot swing it normally. So heavy that when Link finally lurches it from the mud, the inertia spins her around her heel.

The lynel roars at her. It charges her head-on prior to her untangling herself from the sword, and the sharp curve of the spinning blade carves into its knees. The edge slices its tendons and claws the meat to the bone. The bottoms halves of its legs fall apart in bloody heaps of meat, leaving stumps above its knees. The lynel's front legs buckle. Its momentum launches the lynel launch into her. When its torso slams into her chest, it knocks the wind from her lungs. Blood spews over her waist and legs to warm her flesh through the tunic. She hears the lynel roar in pain as the open stumps of its front knees plunge into the unforgiving chill of the mud.

Link staggers backwards. Her trembling hands draw her bow again to aim for the lynel's remaining eye. Before she can loose the arrow, a vice grips her neck so tightly that she can neither breathe nor swallow. The lynel has her by the throat in its right hand so large that its fingers close around the back of her neck, so wide that its thumb digs into her chin and the base of its hand grazes her collarbones.

Despite the evident pain that shivers the lynel's shoulders, it tightens its grasp on her throat. Link feels the bones in her neck grinding against one another. The sensation pools droplets of blackness around the corner of her vision. Darkness: the promise of relief from the agony that would spasm her hands if not for the tempered iron of her will.

The lynel's other hand makes a grab for her bow; she jerks her arms up to loose the arrow square into its charred eye socket.

The electricity that courses through the lynel's body seizes through hers as well, but it does not let go of her throat. It roars; she recoils from the stench. The blood and jelly from its eye coat her nose and mouth. Vomit seeps from the corners of her lips to dribble onto her chin and the lynel's hand.

She cannot breathe.

Her vision. Her vision goes dark. Her muscles have the strangest feeling of sloughing from her bones, steadily ebbing away into nothingness, until only her bones are left, and then only the words she has left on the fingertips she can no longer feel.

With the last of her strength she reaches for the fire-light spear.

The suddenness of the agony that pierces through her lower belly could pass her out then and there. She feels her flesh constrict around the lynel's clawed fingers that have somehow wormed inside of the meat of her lower abdomen, puncturing the tunic in their entrance. The lynel grips a fistful of her entrails; she retches violently onto the lynel's face. It rips its hand from her abdomen to claw at its own face. The acid of her stomach contents burns into its ruined eyes, into its misshapen nose, into its bloodied maw.

Where the lynel ripped its fingers from her innards, she can feel blood flood down her stomach over her thighs, can feel her entrails slosh downwards to ooze from the holes left in its wake, can feel the hollows through the meat of her own body.

She lifts the fire-light spear above her. Her lungs have all but given out. Her arm shudders; she cannot raise it all the way.

But she need only thrust it speedily enough to activate the fire-light.

The spear sizzles through the lynel's brow between its eyes. She lifts it again and brings it down through the lynel's nose; the fire-light emerges on the underside of its jawline. The lynel gurgles blood. Its breath bubbles red. She cleaves the fire-light through its eye sockets into its skull, again and again, and then angles her hand to stab its jaw through the front of its throat.

The lynel's head tips backwards. She watches the remaining skin holding the neck up rip from the head's weight. The arteries burst under the pressure to blind her in blood.

The hand around her throat does not let go.

Bringing the fire-light spear up once more, she thrusts it down into the lynel's wrist; the stump of its hand wettens her chest in warmth. She splashes uselessly into the mud on her right side. The fingers remain locked around her throat. She stabs the lynel's hand over and over with the fire-light. Her arm trembles so badly that she cannot angle the spear: the tip of the fire-light burns her right collarbone, her left shoulder, her sternum. Just before she slips into the comforting night, dark and deep, the thumb falls away and she can breathe.

She can breathe.

She breathes.

She breathes.

She breathes.

She lets herself lie in the mud on her side. When she opens her mouth, the mud seeps into the lower curve of her right cheek, but she sucks in breaths stenched of earth and blood and rot through her raw throat that bubbles up blood.

As she stares at the lizalfos-skin tarp beneath which the lynel sat, one of the salmon leaps from the fish barrel, hits the tarp, and splashes back into the water. Just one second. Just one moment.

But a moment she happened to catch.

She laughs.

She laughs until she can no longer bear the agony through her stomach accompanying each peal of mirth and then she laughs some more until at last she lies there in the stillness with nothing but the patter of the rain and her own laborious breathing.

Flattening her palm against her lower abdomen, she nearly throws herself to the pitch for the pain of the pressure against her innards. She tears off a strip of her bloodied tunic to wad and set between her teeth. Biting down on the makeshift gap, she pushes into the wound to keep everything inside.

She comes to.

Lifting her head, she looks upon the still-steaming corpse of the lynel. Her gaze alights on the quiver strapped to its back. The fire-light spear sizzles through the leather strap. She takes the quiver of topaz arrows. She does not count them. Instead, pressing her tunic over her belly, she crawls through the mud towards the lizalfos-skin tarp—towards the lynel's cooking pot.

She huddles beneath the tarp. The warm mixture of blood—the lynel's and her own—has cooled off in the rain and now clings to her clammy skin. Blood streams down her chin from where she has mangled her own lower lip to a pulpy mess of raw meat and bitten skin. At least the heat that seeps through the fabric of her lower belly continues to warm her.

Link glances at the ingredients before her.

Her salmon risotto.

The salmon stuffed with truffle. Still raw. A gruel of rice cooking in the pot. She can smell butter and salt in the gruel. The pain of her wounds and her bruises and the light-headedness borne of bloodloss compel her to collapse, but she perseveres.

Never will she satisfy herself with a meal shoddily made.

Link takes the time with her limited ingredients to whip the gruel into a proper risotto of rice. She moves her own cooking pot onto the fire to make a broth on the fish in the water barrel that she adds to the rice. Out of butter, she makes due with what the lynel has already added to the pot. Link stirs, testing the rice as she goes, and cooks the risotto until the risotto has attained a viscous, creamy texture that she longs to eat out of the pot. She stops herself long enough to thoroughly cook the salmon with its truffle—and added herbs that she drags over from the lynel's garden, her hand against her stomach to keep her innards from spilling out—inside. Only when the fish and truffles have roasted fully does she spread them over the rice and allow herself to indulge.

With the blood still leaking from her belly and the bruises making swallowing a fight against the pain that threatens to sink her into blackness, Link tears apart the salmon with her bare hands. She scoops up rice with her right hand and salmon-truffle with her left, pelting food into her mouth.

The warmth of the meal floods over her tongue. Even though her hands track mud and blood into her mouth, the savory-tang of hearty cooked salmon, the deep richness of the crunchy roasted truffle, the sour-bitterness of the herbs tempered to sweetness by the heat, and the salty risotto beneath it all to lubricate its descent down her throat.

Link senses her strength returning from the deliciousness of the aroma alone; her body seems to stitch itself back together as she eats of its truffles within.

She closes her eyes. She remembers Mipha gazing at her as they stood on a balcony of Ruto overlooking the reservoir, as Mipha pointed out the wall of the dam where lay Link's bed and the counter where she served meat and drink.

Mipha smiled at her. "My Link, do you remember when I first rescued you?"

Link nodded. Mipha recounted the story and Link added in her own experiences, which brought Mipha to laugh at Link picturing a sea monster that plucked her from the river.

Eventually the mirth quieted down and left Link gazing at Mipha, who herself gazed out towards the Divine Beast Vah Ruta, silent in the water of the lake below Ruto. "Hylians...seem to grow up so fast. I feel like I haven't blinked and you've already become an adult." Link blinked but Mipha did not return her gaze. "Do you think, my Link, when we've done our best against the Calamitous One...do you think that we could return to how things were when we were children?" The corners of her mouth twitched up. "And perhaps you could...perhaps you could cook for me again, my Link. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

She does not remember her reply. The pain mists over her memories even through the sharpness of the salmon risotto.

When she opens her eyes, Link finds Sidon wandering the clearing, calling her name. She shouts hoarsely back at him, and he moves towards her until he has neared enough for her to touch his wrist. Link tugs desperately at him, to bring him over, to make him listen to her final plea. He offers his hands.

She signs into his palms. "Sidon. Sidon."

He asks her a thousand questions and she asks him one.

"Sidon...do you want some of this salmon risotto?"

Hearty Salmon Risotto (full recovery, five golden hearts) - hearty salmon, hearty truffle, hylian rice, goat butter, rock salt


Chapter Fifty. First written: 24 July 2017. Last edited: 23 October 2017.

Author's notes: As usual, thank you so much to all of my readers for all of the support that you've given me so far. We've thirty-four chapters away from the end now, about six-tenths of the way through the Delicious in Wilds. As I've mentioned here and there, the chapters are growing longer (the longest chapter in the story is just over twenty-four thousand words), so it's probable that I will need to take one or two days to tackle the longer chapters (thus far, I've been proofreading/fixing the longer chapters without complaint because they've been fairly sparse, but it's getting to crunch time).

Another thank you to my beta reader, Emma, for her perseverance in assisting me despite the inherent busy-ness in our lives.

The King Zora refers to Link as "my lass" and Sidon as "my lad"; he once also referred to Mipha as "my lass".

The hero of propaganda is in reference to the fact that the royal family was hiding what Link was actually like for fear that the greater population wouldn't accept her.

In Breath of the Wild, Dorephan comments on why Link no longer carries the legendary blade.

In Breath of the Wild, Sidon has the "flash" effect when he grins; in Delicious in Wilds, Sidon polishes his teeth to achieve that effect, although he's not actually aware of how much of an effect it has.

Dorephan compares non-zora to fish spawning. Since you would expect zora to be compared to fish, I wanted to point out that zora do not see themselves as "fish" any more than we humans see ourselves as lemurs.

Dorephan was around before Hyrule fell, so he still refers to it as Hyrule even though it no longer exists.

Shed some silver on the situation is a Lanayrish-ism equivalent of shed some light on the situation.

I think that this is our hint of what actually happened in the time before the Great Calamity. We'll find out more about it in the future.

Zora are unable to cry, as they have no tear ducts! Sharks and related species have salt glands near their recta, which explains what Link was seeing.

Eel in the reef is the Lanayrish equivalent of letting a snake into your garden, except that Hyrule does not have the latter phrase, as it has no Abrahamic religions.

Mipha's 'love' (in reference to Link) is not meant to be romantic at all. Although she was apparently romantically interested in Link in Breath of the Wild, they have a different relationship here, since (again) Mipha was quite literally an adult when Link was growing up and thus when they met. Rather, the 'love' she means is that Link gave her an outlet of someone who didn't know her as the Princess Zora and someone who did not attempt to foist the Lanayrish traditions on her.

Zola is typically personified as a river, hence the comment on her banks.

Muzu smells something beastly rather than something fishy.

Link doesn't quite have complete faith in herself yet. She's getting there. Fragile state.

There's too much talking in this chapter!

Muzu refers to the lynel as a he, but monsters do not in fact have sexes (or genitalia for that matter, as they do not sexually reproduce).

In Breath of the Wild, Muzu asks you to gather twenty arrows, which is what Muzu almost said before giving Link a much larger number.

Yep, Sidon is blind! The joke about no evil being done is in reference to the "see no evil; hear no evil; speak no evil" adage.

A shard of topaz going off over Link's head is a twist on the lightbulb going off over someone's head gag.

Sidon is able to navigate through the water and to greet other residents of Ruto through a combination of (1) reading patterns from the waves of water around him and (2) electromagnetic signaling, which sharks and other fish are capable of. However, these do not work out of water. Even in water, he does usually have a seeing aid/interpreter (like Lari) around with him though.

In Breath of the Wild, Link jumps up waterfalls by donning the zora armour. I found this ridiculous at best (just as Urbosa does not have magic lightning powers, nor does Revali actually call gales). Sidon jumps up the waterfall in a manner similar to salmon, by repeatedly leaping and slowly inching his way up. The paraglider Link opens refers to how Link automatically opens such a paraglider in Breath of the Wild, although this understandably freaks Sidon out as he has no idea what's going on.

Link has achieved a growing understanding of the effects of monsters on the people and world around her. They're not just things she has to deal with; they're things that everyone would have to deal with.

Shooting an arrow into a lynel's face causes the lynel to be stunned for a few moments in Breath of the Wild.

Funny how lynel have magic homing shock arrows if you try to hide, even though that's not how arrows work.

The fight with the lynel is one of the single most violent in all of Delicious in Wilds. I did not do this to glorify violence; rather, because lynels are the generally agreed-upon most difficult enemy in the game for most players, I wanted to make that evident for Link in Delicious in Wilds as well.

The lynel getting caught in Link's spinning blade as she struggles to stop the inertia of her rotating is a reference to the two-handed spin attack animation, where Link literally spin2wins in place. The heaviness of the blade comes from its in-game description.

Link gets rather hurt in this chapter. The lynel literally putting its claws through her lower abdomen was inspired by the "barbarian" armour set, which uses lynel monster parts to upgrade, and which features a red handprint on the stomach. Guess what Link's scar is going to resemble?

Don't worry about Sarie! They're around and will be just fine. In fact they've been around the entire time.

Up next: recovery; preparation for Vah Ruta.

midna's ass. 18 October 2017.

Beta reader's comments: This is one of the biggest and best fight scenes in the whole series. It's so visceral and desperate and brutal.

...And it's followed up by Link holding her intestines in so that she can make food, which is the most Link thing ever written.

The last line of this chapter is definitely in the top five closing lines. I laughed out loud.

Emma. 18 October 2017.