Author's Note:

While I stick very closely to the HTTYD movie/TV show lore, I take liberties with the LoZ elements. Please read with an open mind, as if this were a new game.

New chapters on Wednesdays. The whole thing, 30 chapters plus Prologue, is written and will be posted!

Impa leaned against a tree on the edge of the road, eyeing the pedestrians coming and going within the town. The past three years had taken its toll even on the inhabitants of this once robust village. You could see it in their eyes, the way they kept them low to the ground. That, at least, was to her advantage; she didn't want word getting out that a Sheikah was in town. She fastened her cloak over the crying-eye on her chest, drew up her hood, and limped into town.

Kakariko. It had been so long since she'd stepped foot here. There had been echoes of voices calling to each other; singing, haggling, music, children laughing and chasing each other through the streets; bakeries enticing customers with their captivating smells; the flag of Hyrule waving proudly in the breeze.

She passed under the entry gate, the wooden sign hanging by a corner from a single fraying rope. Tattered banners hung limp from poles along the main thoroughfare, only lifted by a tired breeze that pushed another wave of dust through the town. Not many people were about, but all the same, she kept to the alleys, which were as empty as ever.

She was making good progress when a sound arrested her attention. It was music, gentle and lilting, like a maiden dancing in the moonlight. Her throat tightened. Then, like a hook in a fish's mouth, the music drew her back, leading her through alleys, threading under tattered clothes lines and around broken wicker baskets until she stood below a humble dwelling.

On the second-floor balcony a young man sat hunched, writing in a notebook. He'd look up every few seconds towards a vase of brittle, brown flowers and then back down. But that didn't interest Impa. From the open doorway behind him, the melancholy melody of hammered strings wafted down from the bright sky into the shadowy street. Impa felt her eyes burning and closed them before tears could pool. Kogah had played that instrument.

"Hello?"

Impa opened her eyes to see the young man looking curiously at her from between the slits in the balcony railing. "Are you lost?" he asked.

His kind eyes held her a moment before she turned her back and walked away. First the stars last night and then this. She scolded herself for allowing the distractions to steal her focus—she was better than this—and yet she couldn't help but wonder where Kogah was. For Hyrule's sake she hoped he was dead; for her own… She heaped another pile of bricks on her heart, and the melody drifted away until it was lost in the dusty town.

Impa rounded the final corner and stopped short. Her eyes widened as not more than an arrow's shot away stood the most ridiculous pair of men she had ever seen. The first man was thin as a stick and pale as an oyster which made the ginger dome of hair atop the shaved head look hilariously like a ripe autumn fruit. If it had been different times, she would have laughed. He slouched, hands clasped in front, his head jutting forward, watching his companion. Impa thought a giant garlic had sprouted from the second man's skull. A finely combed and oiled coif the color of cocoa rose higher and prouder than even the luscious goatee that grew from his chin. He was all big gestures and fast talk. Oh no, a salesman.

The two stood between her and her destination, a humble adventurer's shop. She'd never backed down from anything, least of all a pair of spineless hooligans, but she needed to get in and out quickly. Every minute here put her, and by association Link and the entire Kingdom, in danger. The fewer people who knew of her presence the better, and she'd already slipped up once. She turned to wait in the alley.

"Hey, you!" the garlic-head cried. Too late. Might as well be on her way. She made sure her cloak was fastened over the crying-eye and marched across the street, getting halfway to the shop when the bearded garlic-head raced toward her and vigorously shook her hand. "Arty and Pum of Arty and Pum's Apothecary. Say hi, Pum."

The pale man waved behind Arty, the voice as thin as he himself was. "Hello."

"Say," Arty said, trying to wrap his arm around Impa's shoulders. She dodged, and he awkwardly swept his hands up as if spreading out a map before him. "How would you like to invest in Hyrule's first—"

"No."

He glanced at her sword. "Adventuring type. I hear there are all kinds of treasures in—"

"Are you trying to hire me?"

The confident smile withered under her direct gaze. "Yes?"

"With what?"

"I could trade for a bowl of pumpkin soup!"

"Soup?"

"It's good," Pum cooed.

"Let me pass," Impa said.

Arty side-stepped to stay in front of her. "We could put your name on a plaque behind the counter. Paya? You look like a Paya."

Impa clasped her hands behind her back and glared with an intensity that would have melted an iceberg.

"What is it exactly that you want?"

"Rupees," Pum said.

Arty elbowed him and coughed. "Capitol is what my associate is trying to say."

Impa's eyes flashed. "How can you be thinking of starting a business at a time like this?"

"Now's a great time. Rent is cheap and demand is high. Everyone wants our pumpkin soup."

"No one's even heard of you."

"Correction, everyone WILL want our pumpkin soup."

Impa pinched the bridge of her nose. The nerve of some people!

Arty took the pause as an invitation to continue. "Think of the dividends! And it all starts here. Just a small investment to get us—oof!" She palmed his face and strode past. "I promise this is going to be big!" Arty wheedled.

Pum had wisely stepped out of her way. "Have a nice day," he said in that irritatingly soft voice.

"Come on, Paya," Arty whined after her. "Haven't you ever had a dream?"

She had, and she kept it under lock and key where it could never make trouble again. At least, she tried.

Leaving the two would-be entrepreneurs in the dusty street, she mounted the creaking stairs of the shop and entered. On the far side of the small room, illuminated by a single candle that leaned too far to the right, a bald man sat behind a rough wooden counter, his head in his hands. An old tattoo of a charging Lynel, taking full advantage of the spacious canvas on his shiny dome, peeked out between his rough fingers. She had always loved that tattoo; the artist had captured the likeness so well she could almost hear the Lynel roaring.

Without looking up, the man gestured to the shelves behind him. A few bundles of arrows sat next to a bowl of sagging carrots.

"This is all I have," he said wearily. "Take it or leave it."

Impa placed a handful of rupees on the counter. Under her breath, she murmured, "I have an outstanding order."

The shopkeeper gloomily glanced at the money, then up at her. A smile burst across his weathered face which made all the wrinkles earned from decades of adventuring crease upwards.

In a low voice, he said, "Impa! I thought you were dead. When I heard about what happened at the Castle—"

"They didn't get all of us, Forbes," she interrupted.

"And the Hero?"

"Still being a hero."

Forbes sighed and sat back. "Any chance he can be a hero around here?" The creases in his tanned face deepened. "Beg pardon, but what has he been doin'?"

She straightened. "What he needs to do."

Forbes sighed and shook his head. "You both need ta be careful. Yiga been seen all over these parts."

Impa clenched her fist. "I'm not scared of the Yiga."

"I don't want ya ta be scared, I want ya ta be smart. Just this morning we found a feller on the road to Hateno…" Forbes shivered.

Impa's throat went dry. "How do you know it was the Yiga?"

"Feet for starters. And if that weren't enough, the poor sap was covered head to toe in their Eye. He still hasn't woken up." Impa suppressed a shiver, and Forbes clutched her hand. "If the Captain finds Link, or you—"

"He won't catch us," she insisted a little too harshly. "Things will get better."

"How?"

Was it wrong to give him false hope? Impa hesitated, looked over her shoulder. They were alone in the little shop, and even beyond the half-boarded up window, the street was nearly vacant thanks to the garlic and pumpkin heads. Even so, she leaned forward and dropped her voice. "The princess is alive."

The old man's brows shot up. "How? When?"

"I'm not sure. I don't even know where she is, but I'm looking." She could justify this much for the life it was bringing back to her old friend.

"You'd better be in top shape then." He reached below the counter and set a bright, blue bundle tied with a golden string in front of her. "It wasn't easy to hold onto these," he said, sliding the parcel over.

"Thank you, Forbes," she said, taking the bundle. "When next we meet, Hyrule will be free." He nodded and patted her hand. The floorboards creaked unevenly as she limped towards the door.

"Impa," he started. His gray eyes were fixed on the bandage around her leg. "Be careful." She nodded.

Forbes settled back on his stool, shaking his head. As soon as the door swung shut, he turned and looked up into the shadowy rafters. The ferocity in his eyes matched the Lynel tattoo on his head, and his voice rumbled like the first signs of an earthquake. "Is that enough?"

Out of the darkness, a pale wooden mask nodded. "The Yiga clan thanks you."

Forbes' knuckles turned white. "Now you leave Kakariko, ya hear?"

"As promised, of course."

The clansman sprang from the rafters, somersaulted across the floor and dove out the window. The old man set his heavy head in his hands and wept.

\\\

In the half light of an alley, Impa tugged at the golden string, and the knot fell loose. She reached in and grasped a bottle of red liquid. "Thank, Hylia," she breathed.

She was about to down the precious potion when the hair on the back of her neck tingled. With a dangerous sigh, she recorked the bottle.

"Jayko," she said dryly. "I could hear you stomping from half a block away."

"Joke's on you, Impa. I don't even need to walk anymore." There was a shimmer, and then a man in a tight red uniform appeared in front of her. She could hear the grin under the pale mask. "Nifty, huh?"

"If you want to call dark magic 'nifty'."

Jayko continued. "Gotta say, it's been a while. What, three years? Where has the time gone?"

She couldn't bear to look at him dressed in the hideous Yiga uniform, bearing that sacrilegious symbol over his face. She shouldered past him down the alley.

He called out after her. "Hiding is the coward's way out, but hey, do what you need to do to survive, right?"

Her voice was icy. "Would you like to say that to my face?"

"No, but the Captain would." Her heart stopped before her feet did. "He wants to see you."

"I have nothing to say to him." She hoped Jayko didn't hear the tremble in her voice.

The Yiga slid the toe of his boot along the ground. "He thought you might say that, so… he's willing to trade. One meeting with him in exchange for some information."

Impa steeled herself then turned around.

"Two days ago," he started, "this shrine lit up like a beacon. It lasted a few moments and then went dark." The pale mask tilted to one side. "Curious, no?"

"And why would I be interested in that?"

"Call it a hunch, but something brought you out of hiding. The return of the princess—" He rocked his hands as if they were two sides of a scale. "—now that's a bit far-fetched, even for you. That old man seemed to buy it, though."

Forbes? What did he have to do with it? Was he in danger? Had he betrayed her?! Impa gripped the hilt of her sword.

"Don't worry," Jayko assured. "As long as he doesn't do anything stupid, we'll leave him be. Oh, don't hold it against him." The Yiga twirled his sickle. "He didn't really have much of a choice." The pale mask tilted upward toward the dilapidated dwellings around them. "Though why anyone would put their neck on the line for this dust bucket is beyond me."

Impa clenched her jaw. Of course you wouldn't understand, you loathsome, backstabbing, self-absorbed coward. She grudgingly set aside her anger and focused on sifting through the myriad of accusations and half-truths until finally landing on the bedrock of truth: As long as Link is safe, nothing else matters.

She relaxed her grip. "Well, if that's all then." She turned to leave.

Jayko sighed dramatically and clasped his hands behind his back. "We also may have… apprehended… a certain friend of yours."

Impa felt the blood in her sword hand tingle. "Who?"

"Please, Impa," Jayko said, crossing his arms. "How many friends do you have left? And I have to admit, not a fan of the ponytail."

Impa lunged at him, sword drawn. He didn't budge. She sliced towards him, but with another shimmer, he was gone. She skidded to a stop, looked around. He'd vanished.

She whirled around. "JAYKO?!" she howled. She flinched as a tiny pebble bounced off her forehead. Looking up, she saw him balancing on the gable of a roof. He twiddled his fingers at her and dashed out of sight.

Author's Notes:

Thanks to Ari Lewis and Luke for beta reading!

And thanks to everyone who has made it this far!