"He's waking up, papa!"

"Shh, Aster. Let him rest."

"But he moved!"

"That doesn't mean he's awake yet. Come have lunch."

Link's ears twitched at the sound. He didn't recognize the voices around him, and although he understood them, they spoke in a strange, almost...musical accent. Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings: two gray beds, a blue wardrobe, a short writing desk...someone's house? He couldn't be back in Skyloft; he'd only just set foot in the desert, and nobody else could have come down to get him. Zelda had to be-

He bolted upright with a gasp. Zelda! Kicking off the sheets, he bolted out of bed and raced for the door, paying no mind to the startled family he passed, and threw it open. He froze.

Rather than the familiar land of Skyloft, the earthbound town of Hateno greeted him, its windmills and farmland a far cry from his home isle. Children ran around outside, dressed in foreign clothing, farmers harvested some strange golden grass, and, far off in the distance, lay endless ocean, as blue as the sky it mirrored.

This...was not home.

"Woah, hey there!" A hand grabbed his shoulder, and Link jumped, spinning around to face a concerned-looking man in overalls. The guy held up his hands quickly in defense "Hey, hey, it's alright! We're friendly."

Behind him, a little girl peered over the table, looking at the newcomer with wide eyes. Link hesitated as he met her gaze, then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. Easy now...they're just people. "I need help. Where's-" he started to sign, then stopped himself, miming a notepad instead.

The farmer lowered his own hands. "It's fine, son. I know army sign." He offered a small smile. "Name's Medda. This is my daughter, Aster. Who are you?"

Link blinked. Army sign? "My name is Link," he signed slowly. What did he mean, army sign? He'd made this language up himself.

"Nice to meet you, Link. Haven't run into someone by that name in awhile." Medda patted his shoulder and stepped aside. "Why don't you come back inside and have lunch? We can talk about how you got here over some buttered apples."

The Skyloftian frowned, puzzled, but followed the stranger's lead regardless. What in the skies are apples? And what does "buttered" mean?

Medda stared in disbelief as Link recounted his tale one-handedly, the Skyloftian's free hand happily stuffing his face with Hylia's greatest creation yet; buttered apples. "-So I just got to Lanayru Desert, and I'm looking for the Temple of Time so I can find Zelda and take her back home." He paused his signing to lick his fingers clean, then stopped, suddenly very aware of his host's stunned gaze. "...Sorry. That was rude. Do you have a wash basin?"

The farmer nodded, pointing him towards the water bowl at the wall. Medda pinched the bridge of his nose as Link scrubbed his hands clean. "...So let me get this straight." Link's ears twitched, and he glanced over. "You're from the sky, you're chasing down your friend named Zelda with the help of a magic sword. And you're going to Lanayru, the desert, and the Temple of Time."

Link tilted his head. "No. I'm going to the Temple of Time IN the desert CALLED Lanayru."

"Have you ever seen a map? Those are nowhere near each other."

Link blinked. Huh?

Medda sighed. "Wait here." He got up and went over to the wardrobe, rifling through it.

While Link waited, getting more confused by the minute, little Aster crept closer. This new guy was weird; he was dressed up like a grasshopper, with a funny hat that looked like the nightcaps Miss Prima gave to people who slept at the inn, and he talked with his fingers like the soldiers in papa's old stories did. "Excuse me, mister?" she asked, looking up at him with the biggest eyes she could muster.

Link glanced down at her, curious. She smiled. Success. "Do you know the Bolson dance?" When he shook his head, her eyes lit up excitedly. "You gotta see it! It goes like this!" She started doing the jig she'd copied from the construction crew, waving her little arms, and finished with a pose and a proud "SHAKEEEEEEN!"

Link gave a silent giggle, then rewarded her with an enthusiastic round of applause, smiling brightly. Aster puffed up proudly. "It's the best dance ever. Only REALLY COOL people can do it." Her ears perked, an idea hitting her like a Guardian laser. "Wanna learn how to be cool, too?"

By the time Medda finally fished out his map, his daughter was already coaching the stranger through her favorite dance, correcting Link's form like a practiced instructor. He smiled, then cleared his throat. "Busy?"

"Yes," Aster said in the most serious voice a 6-year-old could muster. "You wait, papa."

He stifled an amused laugh. "You've got five minutes. Deal?"

Aster gasped, horrified. "Five?!"

Link waved for Medda's attention, then signed quickly. "Tell her I'll dance with her all she wants after, if she lets me look at the map now."

"What?" Medda frowned. "You don't have to, sir, I can entertain her."

"It's alright, I don't mind." He gave a cheeky grin. "Besides, it's fun. I could use a dance break."

Medda blinked in surprise."Well...alright." He relented. "If you insist." Link fistpumped the air with delight, and Medda smiled, before turning to his daughter. "Aster, sweetie, if you let Mister Link and I talk, he'll dance with you as long as you want when we're done."

Aster gave a serious frown, puffing out her little cheeks and mulling the decision over. "...You promise?" she finally said, looking up at her new friend. Link nodded seriously, giving her a thumbs up. She smiled. "Okay. You can talk to papa. And then we can dance with my friends!"

Medda's ears perked. "Speaking of, why don't you go play with Narah and Karin while you wait? That way you won't get bored."

"Okie dokie!" She stamped her little feet. "I'm gonna race them down the hill, and I'm gonna win!" Before anyone could stop her, she ran out the door.

"Be careful! Don't trip!" Medda called after her. He sighed. "She's so energetic..."

"She's a cute kid," Link signed.

He gave a fond smile. "She is, isn't she? Now then," He spread the old map out across the table. "Let's go over those locations. Over here is the desert." He pointed to the southwest corner of the map. "Only the Gerudo live there."

Link frowned, immediately thinking of his rival back home. Groo-doh?

"But that's Gerudo desert, not Lanayru desert. Lanayru is up here, just north of us." Medda pointed to a mountainous, lake-filled region. "The only sand you'll find there is along the beach. Then the Temple of Time-if this map is right-is here." He moved his finger over to an isolated plateau, then looked up at the newcomer. "I don't know where you got your information from, son, but whoever told you to go there probably hasn't touched a compass in their life."

Link fell into pensive silence, steepling his fingers. Something about this...wasn't right. Fi wouldn't be wrong like that...or if she was, she'd have answers as to why. "My things," he signed. "Did I have anything with me?"

"You had a bag of food and camping supplies, some bombs, and a weird metal bug on your arm. I put everything but the food in the closet; the meals are in the ice box out back."

"What about a sword?"

Medda frowned. "Aside from those bombs, you were unarmed."

So...no Fi. He was alone.

That...hurt.

"Where did you find me?" he asked, clinging to whatever hope he could. "Maybe I left the sword there."

The farmer shook his head. "You were passed out by the entrance to town, over by the twisted statue. There was nothing there but dried up blood by the time we found pulled you in. You're welcome to go look, but..." He trailed off.

Link's heart sank. "...Thank you." He stood up. "I've got a promise to keep, but then I'm going searching. If there's anything I can do to repay your hospitality, let me know." He gave a stiff salute, then walked out without another word, feeling like he'd had the wind knocked out of him.

Loneliness was not something he had ever handled well.

Far across the world, the red leaves of the Akkala region fluttered down as the seasons began to change. The Spring of Power, as it was once known, darkened with organic impurities from the autumn detritus, the clear water having faded long ago to a murky brown.

Sitting beneath the statue of Hylia, invisible to the patrolling Guardians' spotlights, a single figure sat in meditation. His ear twitched, an aura like no other filtering through his perception.

White lips curled into a smirk. "Well, well," he murmured.

"It's been a long time...sky child."

SNAP!