The trip to Hateno is uneventful, aside from the surreal experience of hearing the story of his own death from a stranger. He camps under the shelter of some high cliffs overnight, and while he hears the distant growling of monsters none approach. He means to keep watch, but the warmth of the fire and the quiet of the night eventually lulls him to a doze. In his half aware state he keeps expecting to see someone across the fire from him, bundled tightly in her bedroll with only a few wisps of blonde hair escaping.
Hateno is nice. The picturesque town is surrounded by farmland and populated by friendly people who greet him warmly as he passes. It's the largest settlement he's seen since awakening by some margin, and seems to be thriving here at the edge of the world. He checks into the inn and asks about the tech lab. The innkeeper knows very little about it; the Sheikah don't mix much with the locals, it seems.
Purah is... well, the less said about that the better, probably. Still, she restores the slate's picture function after a little negotiation. Specifically, she agrees to fix it in exchange for:
the strange machine core he'd scavenged from a shrine
a promise to bring her any future strange machine parts he finds, and
a "snap!" to test it's working.
"An energetic one," she scolds as he poses halfheartedly. "You can do better than that! Like this! Genki!"
She then interrogates him about the new runes for hours until Symin suggests they take a break, at which point she throws him out and tells him to come back tomorrow. Symin sends him an apologetic look at this, but Link's honestly glad for the excuse after trying to keep up with Purah's constant commentary. He wonders whether his old self found her this baffling (he finds he's begun to think of his life as something he inherited from a distant, more exciting relative).
"You know, Linky," Purah comments as he leaves, "if you free Zelda from that hideous pig-beast, she can start funding us properly again! You should get on that, snap snap."
It's really very difficult to believe that she and Impa are related.
He sweet-talks the innkeeper into giving him the softest bed at no extra charge since the place is almost empty, but despite the comfort sleep eludes him. He can't stop thinking about the princess, still trapped in the castle with a monster while he traipses slowly about the place. He has no idea how long it will take to free her. Fixing the slate might let him recover his memories, which might help him defeat Ganon. Trekking all the way to north Akala to speak to Robbie might give him a plan to free the Divine Beasts. But what else can he do? Rushing the castle alone with no plan and no sword while he's still rusty and weakened is hardly an option.
He dreams of a cozy nook at the back of a crowded workshop, and the blonde girl wearing Hylian blue. They're playing card games at a rickety table with a group of four young Sheikah, and everyone is pleasantly buzzed on plum wine. His companion is demanding they explain the rules yet again, in the loud, slow words of a drunk trying not to slur. Eventually she throws her hands up in defeat and leans back against the threadbare, oil-stained couch. The game winds down; one of the Sheikah pulls out a lute and plays a favorite from the Castle Town taverns; the girl at Link's side snorts with amusement at the ribald lyrics. Time blurs; the bard is idly playing a softer tune and Link notices the girl slumping against his shoulder. He tries to extricate himself, and she rouses enough to turn her face into his neck and murmur that she isn't tired. She's dozed off even before she can finish the sentence. He feels a wave of affection wash over him and reaches out to brush her hair from her face. Purah and Robbie don't notice, too busy cracking up at Robbie's highly improbable tale of being stranded naked in Castle Town. Impa does, and sends him a knowing smirk. Yosa is watching too, his expression unreadable as he strums his lute strings.
Link breakfasts on fresh bread slathered in butter and piquant wildberry jam. He's glad Purah didn't invite him to stay the night at the Tech Lab; who knows what she might have fed him. He's unsettled by his dream last night. It's an odd sensation, to experience someone else's feelings. Link knows that, technically, they're his feelings, but knowing that doesn't magically resolve the disconnect. He feels unmoored from reality, adrift without the context of friends or family.
Not in the mood to face Purah yet, he takes Seldon up on his offer of a guided tour. The man's an unassuming and genial guide, and it's a pleasant way to pass an hour or two. He leaves Link in the square once they're finished, where a horde of local children accost him. They want to know everything. What weapons does he have, can he dance, has he ever seen a Lynel, has he ever fought a Lynel, could he chop a Lynel's head off like thwack! with his sword, does he think there are really dragons because Teebo said he'd seen one but he must be lying because no one else saw it, can you catch on fire from going on Death Mountain, is there really a girl up at the lab, and so on and on in a breathless chorus. He obliges them as much as he can with such huge holes in his memory, even going so far as to try out some dance moves, but keeps his mouth shut about Purah's predicament. He doesn't imagine she'd react well to finding out he blabbed about it.
He procrastinates some more by heading to the local shrine, intending to train there. Next to it there's a large sign painted with a strange assortment of boxy colorful buildings, proclaiming that BOLSON CONSTRUCTION are creating HOUSES OF THE FUTURE, which are apparently BRIGHT, AIRY AND FULLY CUSTOMIZABLE, and he should INQUIRE TODAY ABOUT THIS AMAZING OPPORTUNITY!
Well, they certainly can't be faulted for their enthusiasm. Intrigued, he heads over the bridge. Bolson Construction turns out to be three very different Hylian men; a young guy with a sledgehammer and an easy grin; a heavyset, taciturn-looking fellow with an impressive mustache; and the most elaborately dressed man Link has ever seen. They're sitting around a campfire making hot drinks, and as Link approaches the leader waves him over with a cheery "Well hello, handsome!"
They tell him they're setting up to demolish the house nearby to clear some land for their housing development. The house was originally built by a Hateno resident who had never returned from Castle Town when the calamity hit, and it's been empty since. The thought of something from his time being demolished sparks a twinge of sadness in Link.
"How much to buy it off you?" he asks impulsively.
"Well the house is a fixer-upper, I'll give you that, but the going rate for a package of land this size is about... fifty thousand rupees, I'd say," Bolson hums. Link's face must give away his shock because Bolson changes tack. "Say, you're an adventurer, right?" he asks.
"...Right," Link replies, mind still reeling from fifty thousand rupees. That should buy ten houses, he's sure. He doesn't think he's ever had fifty thousand rupees.
"I knew it! I can see the passion burning in your eyes," Bolson exclaims. "Maybe we could strike a deal. I sell you this old place for, hmmm, let's say five thousand rupees upfront, and you help us out in return."
Five thousand rupees seems much more achievable. There has to be a catch. "What would I have to do?" he asks warily.
"Oh, nothing much," Bolson says dismissively. "We've been looking at a bigger site in Akala. Hateno's bursting at the seams you see, there's a lot of demand for new housing and this little plot isn't going to cut it for long. I want you to be our premier, hunkiest, most dashing salesman for Tarrey Town! Tell all your friends and acquaintances! A stud like you must know absolutely tons of people all over the place. If you can get all the houses there preordered, I'll waive the rest of the fee for this place. The boys and I will even fix it up for you before we move on. How about it, champ?" he offers.
Well, Link might not know many people yet, but he's definitely going to be traveling a lot. He can make friends, probably. And while he doesn't have any cash, the pouch full of precious stones he's taken from the shrines will surely command a good price from a jeweler (clearly the ancient monks were worried about currency devaluation when they stocked the places). "It's a deal," he agrees, sticking out his hand to shake on it (he's not going to make the same mistake twice).
Bolson grips his hand with a slightly unnerving smile. "Just lovely doing business with you. Hudson, Karson, on your feet! We have a charming cottage to spruce up, and then we head for Akala. Beasts of construction, go!"
Purah's in a good mood when he finally arrives at the lab, triumphantly waving around her homemade slate. She doesn't look like she's slept since he left yesterday; there's a manic, haggard edge to her. "I did it Linky!" she trills. "I replicated the runes from your slate into mine. Oh, I improved magnesis a bunch while I was there. This will make setting up experiments so much easier. I souped yours up as well, though I don't know what you'll do with the ability to lift two tons of metal."
Symin gives him a tired smile and hands over Link's slate before returning to his notes, a large mug of coffee in his hand. Link thanks him and buckles it back on. "Hi, Purah. Good afternoon," he says with amusement.
"What? Oh, yes, trivialities. You slept well?" Purah asks distractedly.
Link doesn't bother to respond since she's already not paying attention to his answer. "I'm glad to see you've made some progress," he says instead.
"Of course I have, now I've got original materials to work with again. It was such a drag having to seal that slate away with you for a hundred years," she complains. "You may have personally held science back a century, you do realize that. Oh, I've got some ideas for stasis as well, so come back once you're done with Robbie. Though I don't know why you're even bothering to go see that two-bit hack."
"Impa thinks he might have some ideas on freeing the Divine Beasts," he reminds her.
"Well, I suppose so," she huffs. "But don't get your hopes up! Talk to Jerrin instead. She was one of mine you know; smart girl that one."
He goes via the Sheikah tower on the way back to Kakariko, guiding his reluctant mare along the cliffside paths. Annoyingly, a pair of moblins has set up camp around the base of it. They're roasting an entire goat on a spit, scents of game and smoke wafting on the air. He hangs back to work out a plan; he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of one of those clubs if he can avoid it. Picking up a small rock, he crouches behind a bush and takes aim, hitting the one cooking on the back of the head. It turns, gesturing angrily at its companion, which raises its hands in confusion. Before long they're outright brawling, heavy clubs forgotten by the log bench. Link kicks them away down the hill before diving in with his sword.
It doesn't take them long to notice him and put aside their squabbling. He blocks and weaves as they swing barehanded at him. He clips one on the calf; it drops to one knee and he swings up and round with a two-handed grip, slicing through its throat in a dramatic spray. The other lunges and he spins out of range, sword flicking blood drops out in an arc as he turns. The moblin closes the distance again but he's in a ready stance, feet and shield braced. He smashes upwards into its nose. It grabs its snout with both hands, wailing, and Link grips his sword two-handed; slams it up into the moblin's neck. It convulses heavily and drops, tar-like blood pooling around his feet and soaking his boots. He checks on the other, but its quiet burbling has stopped and it lies unmoving, eyes cloudy. He sits down heavily on the moblins' log bench, feeling the adrenaline drain out of him. He's definitely starting to shake the rust off his combat skills.
This tower also fills in his local map but fails to fix any of the other broken aspects of the slate. After his meeting with Purah, he supposes he hadn't really expected it to. The detour means he's still only partway across Blatchery Plain by sunset of the second day, so he stops at the little hamlet where the road forks up towards Kakariko Bridge, rather than risk the treacherous mountain road in the dark.
He joins the other guests on the stable's wooden benches to eat. Dinner is a savory vegetable stew topped with herbed dumplings, and a mug full of weak frothy ale. His companions for the night are three merchants, two treasure hunters, and a young man who is apparently a researcher. Link wonders if he ever met Purah before she de-aged herself. Eventually, the conversation turns to monster attacks in the area.
"I was surprised to see them so close to the main roads," Link observes around a mouthful of dumpling. "Why aren't the guard patrols keeping them back?" He realizes his mistake when everyone looks at him strangely. One of the merchants answers first.
"You mean the volunteers? They have their work cut out just to keep them out of the villages these days. Only so much they can do, what with the Blood Moons," she says. Everyone else nods sagely. Link's trying to find a non-insane way to admit he has no idea what they're talking about when Hino saves him the trouble. He stands and launches into an excited speech.
"Ah, the blood moon! I have made it my life's work to study this fascinating phenomenon," he enthuses. "Why do the monstrous hordes swell anew each time it appears in the sky? Why did it only start to appear with the return of the Calamity? Why does its appearance not follow the regular cycles of the moon? Truly, it is an endless source of intrigue!"
Link quietly files the information away. "What have you found out so far?" he asks.
Hino deflates a bit. "Alas, not much," he admits. "But I have found a way to predict the next occurrence a few days in advance!"
Everyone agrees that this is still useful for planning travel, which perks Hino back up a bit, and from there the conversation moves back to other topics. In bed afterwards, Link takes out the slate to study the images held within it again. The quality and accuracy of them is astounding; far better than even the most skilled of painters could produce. It claims to contain thousands of images, but a scant few dozen will display. The rest seem lost to the same corruption as the map data and other functions, and not even Purah could recover them. He examines each of the surviving images carefully, poring over them for details or hints of his old life, but all he feels when looking at them is a nagging sense of loss.
Link squints slightly against the harsh lighting in the Kakariko shrine as the training bot circles round him, legs clattering loudly on the smooth floor. His fight against the moblins went well, but he knows he can't be complacent. He still has a long way to go to be in the same league his past self apparently was. The number of rusted, legless guardian husks piled around his apparent last stand had been truly eye-opening (he has a horrifying feeling his recurring dream about being killed by one is a memory, and not just a nightmare). He flinches and shakes his hand out where the bot just zapped him with an energy bolt. It readies its translucent blade for an attack. He chastises himself for getting distracted, and lifts his sword and shield once more.
Once he's finished training, he goes to pass Purah's regards on to Impa, along with the hilarious news about her experiment. He's a little hesitant to include the latter, afraid it might upset Impa to hear her elder sister has managed to escape the ravages of time and left her behind. He needn't have worried though. Impa laughs heartily along with him. "That does sound just like Purah. She's always been that way, forever chasing the next thing and never content to just be."
After that he stocks up for his journey to Akala. All the merchants have clearly been forewarned and refuse to let him pay for any of the supplies he needs, which is handy given that he blew most of his funds impulse-buying a house in Hateno (not that he included that in his sitrep to Impa). Trissa at the general store presses drawstring leather pouches of salt and spices into his hands; Mellie who runs the orchard does the same with a wax-paper package of dried plums and an earthenware jug of plum wine. The farmers Steen and Olkin almost come to blows trying to stuff his saddlebags with carrots and pumpkins, and Link pushes them apart with an exasperated shake of his head. Best of all, Rola at the Fletcher's gifts him a Sheikah bow, asymmetric and crafted from dark supple wood. The bow feels almost as right in his hand as a sword had, but she insists he test it on the range outside to check the draw weight is correct. He's not sure she needs to stand quite so close behind him to check his stance, but can't summon much objection, touch-starved as he is. It doesn't take him long to pepper the targets with arrows, and Rola declares herself satisfied.
He's mounting up when Paya comes hurrying back out again carrying a bundle of cloth.
"Link! I'm so glad I caught you," she pants. "Grandmother remembered this and wanted to give it back to you."
He takes the package from her outstretched hands. The fine blue fabric unfolds into a short-sleeved tunic with intricate white detailing around the throat, in a pattern reminiscent of a sword. Like double vision, he sees another scene overlapping Paya's concerned features.
Princess Zelda stands in front of him, outstretched hands clasping a bundle of fabric. Her eyes meet his briefly, but quickly slide away again. "Sir Link," she begins. Her tone is formal and stilted. "The royal council felt it appropriate to commission clothing for the Champions, such that all citizens might recognize you and offer their assistance and thanks. I present you this tunic to wear in the execution of your duties. My father also instructs you to wear it to the Inauguration Ceremony tomorrow," she finishes.
As soon as he takes the garment from her, she inclines her head to him briefly, then turns and hurries away back inside before he can even voice his thanks.
Well. That answers the question of who the girl from his pleasant dream the other night was. He doesn't know whether to be glad to have finally remembered something substantial about his past, or to despair that the one emotional attachment he's remembered so far was apparently completely one-sided. He numbly thanks Paya, who blushes and runs back inside. Then he carefully re-folds the tunic to store in his pack. He doesn't really feel like wearing it again just yet.