Chapter 9: A Warrior of the Zonai

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Note: So I've gone back through and made a change to earlier chapters. Long story short: Beira is now a wolfdog, not a bear. The idea of Link with a bear was fun, but not actually very practical at all, whereas a wolfdog could be immensely useful in a lot of different ways, as you'll see later on. I'm sorry for the change, and I hope it doesn't make things too confusing! This way, I feel like Bera will have a lot more to contribute to the story.

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Zelda

They reached Skohrych the next day. From a distance, nothing in particular seemed amiss, except for the large number of tents instead of buildings.

As they neared she could see the destruction, and it sent ice through her blood. Fear of the phantom from the prior night was instantly replaced by horror at the devastation of the Zonai village. It was much harder to fear a shadow in the light of day – even an overcast day – anyway.

At some point the village had been set aflame. The straw-thatched roofing on the stone houses had all burned away, and left blackened soot ruining the paint. There was rubble shoved up against and inside of the buildings to clear the roadways. Many buildings had been demolished completely. Zelda remembered well some of the early Sheikah technology, manned machines spewing black smoke that stood as tall as a horse, and with the power to match – and none of the nourishment requirements that a horse had. The Sheikah had downgraded, in a way, opting for hordes of smaller machines that weren't quite as destructive but led to fewer Sheikah lives lost – or even at risk. Perhaps those original creations were what the Sheikah used when they took Skohrych? she thought.

She felt particularly disturbed by the sight of a broken statue of an owl lying in pieces on the side of the road, its head separated from its body. There were empty sockets along its brow, and a single flawed sapphire remaining to testify of what had once rested in those sockets. Zelda swallowed thickly. Not only did the Sheikah desecrate a sacred shrine, but they… they were pillaging, too.

Other than the destruction, the most notable thing about Skohrych were the Zonai soldiers there. Though with varying heights and build, each was quite obviously incredibly fit and well-muscled. Many wore bone helmets, some the horned skulls of lynels but most the bare skulls of bokoblins. Pieces of animal hide were draped across their shoulders, seeming to signify rank. There was red, green, and blue warpaint on every inch of skin exposed by their gambesons, similarly dyed to show heritage from the three tribes. Fur-lined boots and gauntlets, leather vests belted on over the gambesons – which seemed redundant, and not particularly useful – and surprisingly few shields. Most men wore swords or carried spears; many others held bows with quivers of arrows on their belts.

Almost every man that Zelda saw had a strange tube-like weapon on their back, part iron and part wood, that flared out on one end with what appeared to be a crossbow trigger attached. And there was a strange smell hovering faintly in the air – like sulfur, but somehow not unpleasant, like most sulfuric smells.

"Have you noticed anything missing?" Khanot asked her, his brows drawn together. "Other than roofs over most of the buildings, of course."

Jolted from her thoughts, Zelda returned her attention to the overall scene of the village once more. Her heart dropped as she realized what should have been obvious from the start.

"The Grafensted," she whispered. Every village they had been through since entering Zonai lands had one. "It's… gone."

"Yes," Nerweard sighed, grief bringing a dreary note to his voice. "As we've come t'expect from th'land we retake from th'Sheikah. Forgive me, King Khanot, Princess Zelda, but I must take my leave." He gestured towards a building that had been partially repaired, marked in blue paint with the image of an owl.

"Thank you for traveling with us," Zelda said quietly. "It… was an honor to meet you."

Nerweard offered a kind smile, and then he was gone, walking across the ruined road and into the building.

"Frokar? Frokar!" The sound of running footsteps drawing nearer. Zelda looked towards the sound, and her heart jumped in tandem with a fierce sudden burn across her hand that was gone the instant she acknowledged it.

A young man, perhaps slightly older than Zelda, stood in the road staring at them – staring at her – with confusion and suspicion. Oddly enough there was a large black-and-white dog standing at his side, tail wagging amicably – Zelda hadn't seen any other dogs at the camp before now.

The second thing that she noticed was that the soldier wasn't wearing his armor – in fact, he wore only his boots and a leather loincloth secured by a belt around his waist. The markings of the Skeldrite across his body were badly faded, worn entirely away in places. He wasn't particularly tall or brawny, but he had broad shoulders and was just as physically fit as every other Zonai soldier Zelda had seen thus far. Except for numerous scratches and fading bruises across his body, and whatever lay beneath bandages around his left shoulder and stomach. His hair was a dark golden color, almost brown. His eyes were a striking shade of blue, the color of fire at its hottest point – and indeed his gaze seemed almost to burn, despite the fading bruises on his face.

"Who was that old man with you?" he asked, a note of urgency in his voice. "Where was he going?"

Zelda exchanged a perplexed look with Inpa. "His name was Nerweard," she answered. "He's a healer. I mean, a shaman of course, but also a healer – that's why he's here." She felt her cheeks warming in embarrassment at her poor wording.

The young man didn't seem to notice, his shoulders drooping as if in defeat. "Oh. I thought I saw someone I – never mind."

"Do all shaman wear badger skins and antlers?" she asked before she could stop herself. That certainly would make it difficult to tell one from another.

"What's it t'you?" he asked, suspicion rending his voice belligerent. The dog's tail stopped wagging.

"Watch your tongue, boy. You may not know her, but my banners should be familiar enough to you. I will not have you disrespect my entourage," Khanot barked, a shocking edge to his voice that had Zelda glance at him in surprise; there was a glint in his gaze that sent a chill down her spine as he regarded the soldier standing before them.

Anger sparked in the soldier's fiery gaze, and his jaw tightened for a moment, then loosened. "I didn't mean any disrespect, sir," he said, his voice clipped and forcibly even.

"Look, I – I'm just trying to learn," she answered, feeling her embarrassment increasing, heat creeping across her face. "My name is Zelda, and I – I'm the Princess of Hyrule; I want to learn more about your people and – and see if I can help."

The soldier's frown returned, distrust warring with curiosity across his face. The hardness in Khanot's expression seemed to suddenly ease, and the glint in his eye departed as he turned to regard Zelda directly. Much to her surprise the Gerudo King seemed paler than usual. "My apologies, Princess. I am feeling… worn. I… think I will confirm that our host has been able to arrange accommodations. If you wish to see more of Skohrych, I will leave one of my guards with you to lead you to our camp when you're finished."

"Of course, good king," Zelda said with a dip of her head, concerned. "I would… certainly like to see more before I retire for the day." Khanot has been sympathetic towards the Zonai since the war began. I wonder how much harder this destruction is for him to see, especially having seen the response from the court.

The Zonai soldier was still standing in the path, watching Khanot ride away with his personal guards. Zelda wondered why he hadn't moved on yet; he seemed set on standing in their path until… until perhaps he was sure of their intentions?

"You, erm… don't seem to have the markings of the Skeldrite," she began hesitantly, hoping she wouldn't insult him.

He turned to face her again, surprise on his face. "Y'know about th'Skeldrite?" he asked, eyes widening.

Zelda nodded. "A shaman in one of the villages we passed through took us through the Grafensted there, to the Skeldrite room, and explained about that. I'm… greatly saddened to see what happened to the Grafensted here; they're beautiful buildings."

Some of the suspicion eased from the young man's expression, tension leaking from his stance. He scratched his dog's slightly-rounded ears absently. "Y'haven't seen th'half f'it," he said grimly. "I was… on my way there, t'perform th'Skeldrite again. You… y'can come with me t'th'Grafensted, t'least."

Zelda smiled, slipping from her horse's saddle, noticing Inpa behind her doing the same. "Thank you! It's still there, then? Well, of course – it's underground, mostly –"

"No," the young man interrupted sourly, turning and walking down the cracked, broken road. His dog trotted loyally at his side. "It's not what y'think. You'll see."

Zelda bit her lip. "Erm… what's your name?" she asked, a feeble attempt to change the subject.

"Link," he answered, glancing back at her. "Of Lohsitho."

The name rang a bell; she wasn't entirely sure why. Something about… war-birds… Oh, yes! Groose! "Do you know Groose of Guthtwin, then?" she asked. "He mentioned you when we passed through."

Link stopped short, surprise once more loosening his features. "Y'saw Groose? How's he doing? Was Azrun with him?"

"He said he was working on something new for the, er, the matchlock," she said quickly, pleased to have made a connection. "I'm not sure what, exactly. He seemed alright. And – I didn't hear many names; I couldn't say if anyone named Azrun was there, too."

"She wouldn't be," Link shook his head, continuing forward. "Wrong f'me t'ask. She'll be in th'fields. But…" He released a heavy sigh. "S'a relief t'know Groose's doing well, t'least. He's a good friend," he added at Zelda's curious expression. "Azrun's my… my little sister." His expression closed off then, but not before Zelda caught a glimpse of the loneliness in his gaze. She thought of the children she'd seen in the villages, without their parents, taken care of by strangers. Now here was the other side – a soldier on the front lines, fighting to keep his family safe – bleeding for them, if his wounds were any indication – and yet feeling keenly the distance between them.

"I'm sorry to have brought it up," she said. "You must miss them."

"It's better t'least t'know," he responded, his voice rough. "For my part, I'm glad y'said something."

Link stopped walking. They had reached a large square pit that seemed to be in the center of the village. And within the pit, the wrapped bodies of the Zonai dead lay piled in one corner, armor broken or stripped away, bones spilling from loosened or torn linen. There were many other bodies that lay scattered across the edge of the pit, taken from their crypts, torn from restful slumber. The rest of the pit bore telltale signs of mining – misshapen walls, barrels and picks and carts, broken down walls. The individual openings where each body had lain were destroyed, with surprisingly little sign of the pieces. The green spirit flame was gone, but the stairway down that branched off into deeper corridors and delved farther underground remained.

Link released a heavy, shaking breath. "This's th'Grafensted," he said, his low voice trembling with what Zelda realized was anger.

She turned on him in horror, her eyes wide. Stone torches – I remember wondering how that was possible. Stone… the stone of the Grafensted… a mineral in Zonai soil that 'created' the spirit flame… "This is where the Sheikah were mining," she managed to whisper, turning her gaze back on the desecrated gravesite. The bodies carelessly cast to the side, to allow the Sheikah access to the stone they had laid upon. Bodies that now no longer had a crypt to return to, even if the Zonai had the manpower to spare to restore them to their resting places. "This is… this is so much worse than I thought…"

Link nodded curtly. "Things often are," he muttered bitterly, starting down the stairway into the Grafensted. His dog whined softly. "Watch your step. F'y'see a bone…" He sighed heavily. "Let me know. I'll… I'll set it with th'others."

Zelda blinked rapidly, sickened at the thought. Behind her Inpa shifted uncomfortably in place. Though it was nauseating to think about human bones, she could feel, almost at a visceral level, the raw grief plain in Link's voice from knowing that the bodies of his people had been so greatly disrespected. Does this count as being unburied? she thought suddenly, glancing once more back at the pile of bodies before they turned a corner and headed underground, into a part of the Grafensted still intact – or, at least, more intact.

She felt her heart lighten seeing the green light of the spirit flame ahead, only to find her blood chill once again seeing that it was not in the typical stone sconce, but rather an ordinary torch embedded in the ground. The careful stonework paving the floor of the Grafensted had all been torn up, she realized at that moment, her spirits sinking further. Anything the Sheikah thought could contain their supposed 'mineral.'

"Did the Sheikah put this torch up?" she asked quietly, gesturing. Link didn't look back at her.

"They did," he answered grimly. "It only burned orange, for them. Now it holds th'spirit flame. So t'least our ancestors aren't holding this against us."

"Why would they?" Zelda exclaimed. "This wasn't your doing, none of it –" She stopped herself quickly, unsure of how their culture would actually view such desecration. Either way, she felt acutely aware of how little her father would approve of the path her thoughts and feelings were taking. A quick glance behind her revealed that only Inpa followed behind her; the other guards were waiting outside of the Grafensted. She and I will have much to discuss.

"We should've been stronger," Link muttered. "F'we'd been more prepared, we could've stopped th'Sheikah advance before they got so far."

"By th'time our armies were ready, th'Sheikah had already conquered most f'Owl's lands," Zelda remembered one of the Zonai representatives explaining. She bit her lip, hearing the self-deprecating shame in Link's voice. "I am sorry for what you and your people have suffered," she said quietly, reaching almost instinctively to put a hand on his shoulder and quickly pulling back, embarrassed. She inhaled deeply, steeling herself. "It was wrong."

It was. It is. The Sheikah are in the wrong in this war, I'm… I'm sure of it now. Regardless of who was attacked first, nothing justifies what I've seen here!

It was terrifying, and yet strangely freeing in an almost exhilarating way, to even think something her parents would be so opposed to hearing from her.

Link was looking at her thoughtfully, suspicion no longer ever-present in his gaze. "Why are you here now?" he asked bluntly. "Why now, after so many f'us have died, so much f'our lands destroyed? What drove th'King f'Hyrule t'finally investigate?"

Zelda swallowed thickly. "Me," she answered quietly. "Well, the investigation – that was my doing. It was my idea. I've – I've wanted, from the start, to hear your side. As for why now, well… I was deceived, many of us were, to think that the Zonai had simply not sent anyone to the castle to try and negotiate. I discovered that you had, and that my… my father was turning them away intentionally, to keep them from sharing their side and swaying the court away from the Sheikah."

"What?" Link's eyes blazed with fury in the pale green light of the spirit flames.

Zelda winced and nodded. "I was shocked as well," she explained. "I listened to what they had to say, and King Khanot of the Gerudo supported me in court in pushing for an investigation into the Zonai perspective of the war."

"Hang him!" Link exclaimed, slamming his fist against the wall pockmarked by Sheikah pickaxes. "Lerkin flameless poespeaking coward!"

"Khanot?" Zelda asked hesitantly, confused.

He blinked at her, his sudden rage cooling. "No, f'course not! Er… your father." In the flickering light his cheeks seemed to darken self-consciously. "Sorry. Not really, but…" He grimaced, turning away from her, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably.

Zelda nodded glumly. "It's an unfortunate situation," she agreed. "I've… the Zonai wouldn't know this, because my father refused to allow me to visit your lands, but I've been opposed to many of my father's policies for a long time. It's just… I don't quite have the power or influence on my own to do… much."

Link sighed heavily, continuing down into the Grafensted. "So what will y'do? Now that you've been here, that you're seeing… this." He gestured to a handcart piled with linen-wrapped Zonai corpses, his shoulders slumping as they walked past it.

Zelda winced, her heart clenching at the further evidence of the Sheikah's disrespect. "Try to end the war somehow," she answered softly. "I'm… still working on… how, exactly."

"We won't let our Grafensted stay in Sheikah hands," Link growled warningly. "Th'Zonai people will die before they willingly allow this… desecration… t'go on."

Zelda winced. And the Sheikah would rather die than give up their research, I'm sure. Which… complicates peace talks.

A light curtain of dust rained down on them from the ceiling, stone riddled with cracks. Link waited for it to settle, eyeing the walls uncertainly, before pressing onward. He turned into an alcove – a triangular shaped room. Or… it had been, once. The engraved image of the Triforce was still visible on the ground, though pieces were missing, and there were cracks across its surface. Zelda felt a deep chill then – a symbol she herself held sacred, treated so dispassionately…

The room itself was now more of an oval. The Sheikah had clearly spent considerable time here, likely recognizing it to be a place of great significance in the Grafensted. The walls had been carved outward, the stone carted away to be used in experiments.

Link exhaled heavily. "S'not right, feeling so unsafe in this place," he murmured, his gaze following indentations in the stone, cracks above them. "We… don't really know how stable it is. Some believe th'spirits f'th'dead are holding it up t'let us continue t'perform th'Skeldrite."

"Does it have to happen in a Grafensted?" Zelda asked, shivering slightly, trying to shake off the fresh fear creeping up her spine.

"Yes," Link answered. "Th'Skeldrite requires th'spirit flame, which requires th'spirits f'th'dead. Makes it difficult for those f'us on th'front lines t'perform th'Skeldrite – we can't get our dead back, most f'th'time. It's… it's a privilege t'be able t'perform th'Skeldrite in a proper Grafensted again." He looked as if he was trying to convince himself, his gaze uncertain and his brow furrowed. His eyes shifted to Zelda. "Th'Skeldrite is sacred," he said quietly. "Outsiders aren't supposed to… it's not a… I can still take y'back out afterwards, but…"

Zelda nodded quickly. "We'll wait just outside," she promised, turning and walking out of the alcove and down the misshapen corridor several yards, what she hoped was out of earshot from the young Zonai warrior. Inpa followed – and, much to Zelda's surprise, so did the black-and-white dog. Apparently animals aren't allowed in, either? Or maybe it's not so much who isn't allowed in; it's more of a focus on the individual performing the Skeldrite…

"So," the disguised Sheikah murmured, glancing at the dog with a raised eyebrow. "What do you think about all of this?"

Zelda shivered, looking around at the chipped stone of the Grafensted. Where once there had been immaculate designs chiseled with painstaking care, now there were pieces missing, cracks running from floor to ceiling; the feeling of peace, warmth, serenity had been replaced by the heavy weight of sorrow, fear, and a pervasive sense of wrongness.

"I… I'm working through it," she murmured. "Obviously I need to do something, but… what exactly…" She rubbed her temples wearily, letting her eyes close for a moment. And, of course, even saying that the Zonai need or deserve assistance from Hyrule is unheard of in court right now. They've been seen as the enemy for so long, as the instigators of this conflict, when… when nothing could be further from the truth, based on what I've seen. "And of course while in Zonai lands, seeing the personal impacts of this war on their people, I'll be inclined to feel more sympathetic towards them."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself of – something," Inpa commented, crossing her arms casually over her chest.

"Of what?" Zelda asked quickly, noting that her bodyguard had changed her mind at the last second of what to say. She glanced at Link's dog, laying down on the floor with her head on her paws, watching them without much interest.

The Sheikah's magically darkened eyes traced broken carvings along the wall. "Of what most people take as fact," she said quietly. "That the Zonai are a savage, warlike people who were just looking for an excuse to fight."

Zelda frowned. "That's not how I feel," she protested, an indignant edge to her voice. "Not… not anymore, at least. But I… I suppose I am afraid, knowing how… controversial my true feelings are… becoming."

Inpa nodded, grinning wryly. "And that's just to be expected," she said. Her voice softened. "You've been forced to live under your father's thumb for so long. Now you have the chance to… to do something of your own. And it's frightening, because it's unpopular. Because people may very well hate you for it, including your own family."

Zelda raised an eyebrow, her heart feeling heavy and her shoulders about to buckle with stress. "Is that supposed to help me feel better about it all?" she asked crossly.

Inpa shrugged. "Do you need someone else's comfort and support in order to 'feel good' about it?" she questioned. "If that was true about you, Zelda, you never would have spoken to those Zonai representatives in the first place."

Zelda frowned, hugging her arms around herself in discomfort. She felt as if she was standing at a crossroads – down one path, she closed her eyes to the green spirit flame, to the grief and fear she'd seen on the painted faces of the Zonai, and returned to the light and comfort and safety of her studies, the Castle Town bakeries, and her little by little efforts to appease the nobles of Hyrule and fix her father's mistakes.

Down the other path, she continued deeper into the dark, ruined Grafensted, with spirit flame guiding her path. She brought the sorrow and pain and destruction she'd seen with her back to her father's courts and fought a lonely battle, all in the hopes that lasting change could be made – that somehow the Zonai and Sheikah could be brought to peace, and those children in the villages would be reunited with fathers and brothers, Link with his sister and friend.

Soft footsteps from behind drew her from her musings. Zelda turned to find Link walking towards them, his body marked with fresh green paint – the symbol of Din, on his shoulders; Nayru, in the center of his chest; Farore, on his abdomen, ringed by three triangles. A pair of triangles on each forearm, diagonal marks on his thighs, a symbol reticent of a winged creature, perhaps a dragon, across his brow and down his nose.

Zelda smiled. Seeing him now, she understood very well what the shaman who had first introduced her to the Skeldrite chamber had meant when he said that Zonai paint was not warpaint, meant to intimidate foes. They represented a balance of virtues in the symbols of the Triforce and the Golden Goddesses – and a connection to their honored ancestors.

"So you're from the Dragon Tribe," she said, gesturing towards the mark down the center of his face.

He nodded. "Watched over by Farore, Goddess f'life… and courage," he murmured, his gaze distant. He gave a slight nod, to nothing in particular, then walked past Inpa and Zelda, beckoning them back the way they'd come. His dog shot to her feet and hurried after him. She heard him say then, under his breath, "I'll do my best, Frokar."

Zelda watched him thoughtfully from behind, following him out from the broken Grafensted. Incredible how, whatever the Skeldrite consists of, he who emerged from that chamber is a very different man from the one who entered, so angry and bitter. Now he seems so much more at peace, despite the devastation of this Grafensted.

He had removed the bandages on his side and shoulder in order to apply the Skeldrite markings. She noticed, with a tightening in her chest, the more grievous still-healing wounds across his body. Three puncture wounds in the shape of a triangle across his back, slashes across his sides and shoulder that had been stitched closed. She felt an instant urge to ask how he'd gotten injured but quickly pushed it down, grimacing. He's a soldier – obviously he was injured while fighting.

She felt the horror and grief in her soul harden into determination. I will bring their side of this conflict to light.

"So who is Frokar?" she asked, trying to make conversation with the young warrior. "You've… mentioned him a few times now…"

"A shaman," Link answered, glancing briefly over his shoulder. "From my village. We fought together for most f'th'war, but… we parted ways a couple days ago."

Zelda nodded slowly. So… now you're on your own. Or at least, it feels that way. "I'm sorry," she offered quietly.

"He didn't die," Link said quickly. "T'least, he better not've. We just… he went on t'Skadkil, and sent me and th'other wolves t'Skohrych, t'pass on… news."

"Wolves?" Zelda asked, her eyes widening in astonishment. "The Zonai – you have wolves?"

For whatever reason, Link laughed, and she wished for a moment she could see his face, just to find out what he looked like with a smile. "Wolf warriors," he clarified. "It's a special rank f'soldier, for those who've slain a lynel. I slew mine about a year ago, and finished making th'armor just before th'war started. We wear wolf hide t'signify our rank, just's our colonels wear bear."

"And the shamans all wear badger pelts," Zelda said, feeling as if she was beginning to understand. Each type of animal hide has its own meaning. "Why… why badgers, in particular?"

"Their ferocity," Link grinned, glancing back at her. They had reached the destroyed entrance into the Grafensted; pale light from the clouded sky beyond cast him half in light, half in shadow. Zelda felt her heart skip. "And their cleverness, and fearlessness. Badgers show a balance f'th'three divine attributes – courage, power, and wisdom. And… badgers live underground, and th'Grafensteda… so, y'know. Anyway, th'men f'our tribes will become shamans once they're too old t'fight, and devote th'rest f'their lives t'spirit magic. It's expected that by then, we'll've developed a balance f'th'divine attributes within ourselves, and so are worthy t'wear th'badger's hide."

"So what do you do before you become a shaman?" Zelda asked, following him into the light.

"Herd, mostly," Link answered, a note of melancholy entering his voice. "Farm, more rarely. Usually what y'do is determined by your family line. F'you're unmarried, men'll herd and women'll grow crops. Once y'have a family, y'do one f'th'two together. And that's just during th'summer – once winter comes, everyone comes back t'th'villages."

Zelda frowned, compassion warming her heart. So you would normally be preparing to come home right now. "What would you do?" she asked quietly.

"I'm a sheep herder," he said, a gentle warmth entering his voice. "My father once said that there's nothing nobler than t'watch over creatures that can't defend themselves, and t'guide them, keep them safe…" He sighed heavily. "My sister, Azrun, is looking after my herd this year." He chuckled softly. "Almost wish I could get her a matchlock somehow. Th'sheep would hate th'noise, but I can only imagine how effective it'd be against predators."

Zelda's ears perked. "Matchlock? That's the weapon Groose invented, isn't it? Do you have one?"

He gave her a skeptical look. "F'course," he said. "Y'd be hard pressed t'find a man without one." He grimaced slightly, his gaze going distant for a moment, before continuing forward.

"Would you be willing to show me?" she asked hesitantly. "I've heard so much about them, but I – I don't even know what everyone is talking about."

"I don't see why not," Link shrugged. "This way, then. S'long as y'aren't bothered by Beira." He gestured to the large dog still at his side.

"So that's her name?" Zelda smiled, looking at the beast. "What does it mean?"

"Bear," Link answered with a grin, pausing to ruffle the thick fur around Beira's neck fondly. "She's near big enough t'be one."

"I haven't seen any other dogs around here, but I do remember seeing herding dogs in the fields while I was travelling," Zelda said. They were leaving the main village behind now, instead heading to a large array of tents in a field beyond the last crumbled building. "She seems quite a bit… bigger." And indeed, if Beira were not so tall that her head came up to Link's thigh, she would have wanted nothing more than to pet the fluffy-looking black-and-white fur.

"That'll be th'wolf in her," Link explained. Zelda gaped at him in astonishment. "One f'our sheepdogs was bred by a wolf a few years back. Only one f'th'pups survived – I raised her up, trained her t'herd sheep with me. Turns out she took t'th'battlefield just s'well s'th'pasture."

"Wolfdog," she said quietly, gazing at the beast with new awe. "Well, that certainly explains her size!" She chuckled, a new thought coming to her. "So she's… part wolf. And a sheep dog. But you named her… Bear?"

Link's cheeks reddened slightly, and he scratched the back of his head. "Er… yes?" he answered. "I've never been particularly good with names."

"I've heard that wolfdogs are particularly difficult to train," Zelda said, studying Beira curiously. "You must have done a very good job with her; she seems so tame!"

Link laughed, but there was an edge to it. "Oh, she's not tame by any means." He held up his right hand, glowing spirit green. "Many f'us have an affinity for certain magical abilities, thanks t'our ancestral lines. Mine is an ability t'touch a creature's spirit when I reach out t'them. Tried it on Beira after a dare from Groose; it's more like I'm th'alpha f'her pack than her human master."

Zelda chuckled at that. "That's incredible," she said, shaking her head. "I had no idea that the Zonai could… well, and I'd wager that ability comes quite in handy when you're working with your sheep."

Link nodded. "Groose's convinced I'm th'key t'his war-birds idea – making roosters into combat animals. I… haven't gotten th'chance t'try it yet, but in all honesty I'm glad he's working on his other ideas." He squatted down next to the opening of the tent they'd stopped at, reached inside, and then pulled out one of the long wood-and-metal tubular devices she'd seen the other warriors carrying slung on their backs, holding it with a grim smile. "Like this one."

Zelda squinted at the object. "Is that… the matchlock?" she asked skeptically. "What… what is it?"

"A firearm," Link answered eagerly. He gestured to a strand of thick rope held in place near the wider end of the weapon. "This's a fuse. Set it on fire, and it burns very slowly – so slowly we can leave it lit for hours on end f'need be. When I pull th'trigger, th'fuse comes down on this pan, which holds gunpowder in it. Sets th'gunpowder off, then blows a ball out th'end with a stream f'fire." He tapped the narrower end of the weapon, then reached back inside the tent and grabbed a leather bag, delved two fingers inside, and pulled out a small metal ball, about the size of – maybe a little smaller than – a grape.

"Incredible," Zelda murmured, eyeing the long weapon with new awe. Now that would be a sight to see! "And Groose came up with this?"

Link nodded, grinning. "He's always working on some mad idea or another. Thank th'Dragons this one worked – it's kept us evenly matched with th'Sheikah and their technology."

"You seem to like it quite a bit," Zelda smiled, looking at the excitement on his face as he ran a hand affectionately down the wooden length of the matchlock.

"S'a good weapon," Link said. "Kicks like a bull, but… it's a lot easier t'be fearless in battle with a weapon like this at hand."

She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by the bull comment, but he was already putting the firearm back into his tent and instead pulling out what she instantly recognized as a skull, with a fiery red mane attached. "Oh! Is that your helmet?"

Link nodded. "From th'lynel I killed. It had a red mane, and since I'm from th'Dragon Tribe and my Skeldrite paint is green, I figured I'd paint th'skull blue, and then all three Goddesses are represented in my armor." His cheeks reddened slightly. "Not – not that I'm presuming t'have th'Goddesses' favor. I… I just wanted… it symbolizes what I strive for. Th'balance f'th'three divine attributes."

"Courage, power, and wisdom," Zelda recalled, smiling. "I… I think that's quite admirable; it doesn't seem presumptuous at all."

"Thanks," he said, returning the smile. He set the helmet down carefully and dove back into his tent, pulling out a thick bundle of leather dyed green, and a dark leather vest. "Th'outer layer f'my gambeson is from th'lynel's hide. And so's th'overcoat – th'pauldrons are wolf hide, though. Lynel hide is incredibly tough, very resistant t'cutting. From ordinary humans, t'least – guardians are much stronger," he finished bitterly, one hand absently going to one of the stitched-up wounds in his side even as he unrolled the green garment and pulled it on over his chest, followed by the leather vest – which indeed had wolf hide sewn into the shoulders.

"And – you mentioned you made this yourself?" Zelda said, her eyes going wide in astonishment for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.

Link picked up the helmet from where he'd set it down and pulled it over his head, fastening a leather buckle under his chin to keep it in place. "It's required f'wolf warriors," he nodded. "Getting th'mane attached t'th'skull was harder than I thought."

She studied the helmet curiously, noting how the horns curved downwards instead of upwards. A sudden thought struck her. "Do all lynel horns look like that?"

"They're all curved," Link answered. "And they'll all have this same texture, like cattle horns. Th'difference is what direction they point; mine point forward and out, others'll point up, some point backwards…"

They're all curved, though, Zelda thought. Not like that… phantom. Those horns most definitely pointed straight up, and weren't curved at all. "Interesting," she murmured. "I wonder –"

She stopped as Link suddenly stiffened, looking at something over her shoulder. She turned to find a Zonai soldier with fox hide on his shoulders jogging towards them, wearing a bokoblin skull helmet.

"Warrior Link, sir!" he called out as he neared. "Glad I found you – th'generals're ready t'hear your message."

"Oh!" Link exclaimed, his eyes flying wide and a dozen emotions flitting across his face – dread, panic, uncertainty – before his expression hardened into steely determination. "I'll – I'll report t'them t'once."

The soldier nodded eagerly and walked back the way he'd come, glancing over his shoulder a few times with curiosity and even a little awe. Zelda looked back at Link. "Well, I… I'm glad to have met you," she said quietly, offering a regretful smile. "I hope we can speak again another time."

Link looked taken aback, but he nodded quickly. "Yes," he agreed, meeting her gaze with surprising intensity. "I… greatly enjoyed our conversation." He kept his eyes on hers, an emotion she couldn't name burning fiercely in their fiery depths. Sincerity, perhaps?

Inpa nudged her shoulder as he jogged away, back into the village proper. There was a teasing note in the Sheikah's voice as she commented quietly, "The two of you certainly got along well."

Zelda rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushing self-consciously. "He's a nice young man," she countered defensively, yet unsure of why she felt defensive about it all. And… I can't explain it, but he felt… familiar. Like an old friend, even though we've never met.

Besides that, I get the feeling he hasn't been able to just… talk with someone… in quite some time. Her thoughts turned again to the wounds across his body. She remembered how grim and bitter he had seemed at the beginning of their conversation, how delighted she'd been when he first started to open up, to laugh.

The Zonai may place great emphasis on combat prowess, but they are not a warlike culture, she realized in surprise. In fact… their religion is entirely unsuited for an actual war, what with the significance of the Grafensteda. An actual 'warlike' culture would be better adapted to dealing with their dead in less favorable circumstances, whereas to the Zonai, being unable to give the dead full honors in these beautiful crypts is… devastating.

And then there was the Skeldrite, and the devotion to the Golden Goddesses and the 'divine attributes' of courage, power, and wisdom – truly, if Link was anything to go off of, the Zonai were an incredibly pious people.

"I won't tease you," Inpa promised with a smirk, as they sat together around a small fire that evening, in the campsite Khanot had arranged to be set up for them. "But you can't deny how surprisingly well the two of you got along after such a rocky start."

Zelda chuckled. "He's given me a lot to think about," she murmured. "Not the least of which is that whatever is killing the Sheikah spies couldn't be Zonai – the horns weren't lynel horns. I wondered for a moment, after seeing the defiled Grafensted, if it could've been a corrupted Zonai spirit, but – it just doesn't match up."

Inpa nodded slowly. "And… now you've seen what those Zonai representatives were talking about, when they mentioned the destruction of their burial sites," she said gravely. "What… what do you think about that?"

Zelda sighed heavily, letting the horrible memories of that darkened place rush through her mind once more. A sudden flare of doubt speared her soul – These thoughts and feelings would be considered so out of line by my father. "You first," she whispered anxiously, twisting her hands together. She needed to hear whether her friend would stand by her side in this – or whether she now needed to watch her words even closer.

Inpa rolled her eyes, her lips quirking into an amused smile. "Well, I think Yagamura is the world's biggest pile of hinox dung," she muttered. "I'm… shocked, and disgusted, by what he's ordered his – my – people to do. This is… this is wrong, as you said." Her voice shook slightly, and Zelda felt her stomach drop in shock, seeing her unflappable bodyguard looking uncomfortable and uncertain for the first time since they'd known each other. Inpa smiled again, but it was clearly forced, and there was no small amount of fear in her eyes. "Makes me really think about how distanced I am from them."

"Do you think the monks know?" Zelda asked, referring to the spiritual leaders of the Sheikah – some of whom were among the most renowned Sheikah scholars, and others who had spent their lives guarding an ancient sword in a forgotten forest glade. Link's face popped into her mind then, for some reason she couldn't name.

"A few, undoubtedly," Inpa growled. "Those that are overseeing the development of our technology, or advising Yagamura. As for the others… They're undoubtedly aware of the war, but they're too busy seeking enlightenment to care about the details." She shook her head slowly. "But I think you're asking the wrong questions. It doesn't matter much whether the monks know – what of the common Sheikah people?"

"Your family," Zelda nodded, grimacing. "And others like them. You've told me about the letters they send you." A brother and his wife and children, looking after an ailing mother on the outskirts of Sheikah territory, farming potatoes. The brother was now working in a Sheikah factory producing guardian parts, because the demand for manpower in the factories had grown so high. Goods becoming harder and harder to come by, ordinary tools like pots and pans sometimes forcibly taken to be melted down and formed into guardian parts. Fewer and fewer workers in the fields, more and more sent to the factories or the front lines. "I'd wager that only the researchers in charge, and the soldiers who actually… did this to the Grafensted… know the extent of what's been happening. At home, the people don't know… and yet they tire of the war, and see how damaging it is to them, personally."

Inpa nodded. "Just like the Zonai people here, on a different scale," she murmured. "Both sides are ready for the war to end, even if they won't admit it. They see how it's tipping them all closer and closer to destruction – and we, on the outside, see how they'll bring the entire kingdom with them."

Zelda inhaled deeply. "Then we must try and make peace, as soon as we can," she declared firmly. "The nobles have been pushing for that all along, but they've gone about it entirely the wrong way. They're just waiting for the Sheikah to finally destroy the Zonai, and believe that is the condition for peace. Hence any aid is always given to Yagamura and his cause. They see the Zonai as a barbaric people who… who deserve annihilation." She shivered, remembering the intensity of Link's burning blue gaze, the warmth of his smile as he spoke about his sheep and his dog and his sister, as he excitedly told her of his best friend's invention. "The Zonai have been ignored for far too long," she said quietly. "I will speak for them – I will bear my witness of what I've seen here all the way back to the nobles of Hyrule, and see if I can convince any of them that true peace will require true compromise between the Sheikah and the Zonai, and not just a decisive victory from the Sheikah."

Inpa snorted. "Your father will love that," she noted, sarcasm thick in her voice. "Maintains his status quo most excellently."

Zelda frowned. "He's – he's not evil," she protested, her heart sinking even as she spoke. "He's incompetent, certainly, but he's not a cruel man. Once he hears what's been happening…" Her voice trailed off as she thought of the three Zonai representatives that had been turned away from council meetings, time and time and time again. Definitely not the doings of a nefarious ruler, came the unhelpful sarcastic thought sounding just like Inpa.

"I'm not saying he's evil - I'm saying he's comfortable," the Sheikah herself pointed out. "And we've seen that he'll go to great lengths to stay comfortable."

Zelda tried to meet her bodyguard's skeptical gaze. "He'll see reason once I've told him what I've witnessed here," she insisted.

Inpa crossed her arms over her chest, skepticism clear in her raised eyebrow. "If you say so," she sighed, getting to her feet. "Just… be prepared for it to go poorly."

Zelda's shoulders slumped, and she gazed forlornly into the dancing flames. It… it can't go poorly, she thought insistently. Because… if it does…

Then he'll trap me again with no way to exert my own will. And I won't go back to doing nothing, not after everything I've seen.

A fiery blue gaze haunted her mind's eye, his iron determination fueling her own.