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Chapter 4: Kakariko

Summary: Despite all the differences between the present and the past, Zelda finds that some things remain the same.

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Zelda's dreams are dizzying and incomprehensible. Even as she wakes early in the morning, collects the holy weapons and Horse, and sets off northwards, the phantom visions try their damnedest to pull her back under. Alas, sleeping away the bone-deep ache from yesterday is a temptation she can't afford to indulge.

The road to Kakariko is startlingly barren. A wary man travelling south on horseback gives her a stiff nod as he passes by the stable, but otherwise the road is quiet and empty save for the wildlife. Even hours into her ride, when the sun is well overhead and her bottom is sore again, she only comes across one other person: a suspicious-looking traveller who leers at her from the shade of a ginkgo tree just north of Kakariko Bridge. She rearranges her torn skirt nervously and steers very clear of him. He doesn't call out, thank Hylia, but she can feel his gaze on her back for several minutes afterwards.

Though this was a trade route in her lifetime, there are no caravans, no families with children giggling and complaining loud enough to echo over Lake Siela, no patrolling soldiers watching for monsters. No groups of people at all. The dusty road is long overgrown with grass and weeds.

About halfway to the village, with sheer cliffs to her left and a far drop into the lake to her right, she takes a break from riding to pick some herbs she recognizes. She figures she can cook with them later—though she's never needed to cook for herself before, so maybe she can exchange them for rupees or a meal somewhere instead.

As she walks barefoot through the grass, a long forgotten memory surfaces in her mind's eye: this road, well-travelled and alive, lined with paper lanterns. Dozens of Sheikah—traders, palace staff, and layfolk alike—flocked home to Kakariko, all talking and laughing in their nicest red robes. She remembers slipping away from the royal entourage in this exact place, shucking her little embroidered slippers and warm stockings, hiking up all the layers of her red skirts to run through the white winter wildflowers at the side of the road. She wanted to throw herself down in the bed of flowers next to a few peasant children and join them in making flower crowns, but Mother's hands closed around her little waist and gracefully swept her back into the carriage before she could follow through. She was six years old, and it was the first—and last—time she ever attended Kakariko's New Year's festival with her mother.

This road hasn't seen a crowd like that in a hundred years. It may never see such a rabble again, after the Calamity.

Back then, it took so long to awaken her magic that all of her champions perished without her support. Locking the Calamity away and suppressing it with her own body was the only option left open to her, and even then, she wasn't strong enough to stop him from reviving the monsters he left behind whenever they were killed. In her weakness, how many of her people did she fail to save? Can the Hylian population recover, or have she and Link only delayed the inevitable?

She packs away the herbs in one of the saddlebags and continues on her way.

Soon enough the view of Lake Siela is obscured by the rising cliffs of Bonooru's Stand. The gorge between the Pillars of Levia and the stand is wide at this end, so the early afternoon sun shines down on land reclaimed by nature. Here, part of the path is taken over by a small pond fed by a waterfall; the cranes meandering between the fronds take flight at the sound of Horse's hoofbeats. There, boulders from a landslide cover the edge of the road. She even passes a Korok's puzzle along one cliff face, one that Link completed months ago; when she gives the Korok a wave, it coos, sways, and hides bashfully behind the leafy stick in its hand. Once the little forest spirit is out of view, the telltale clinking of bamboo chimes in the wind lets her know it must have teleported itself back to Korok Forest.

It's around four hours after she set off when she comes across the first torii. When she last saw this gate, it boasted a fresh coat of vermillion paint, carefully inked flags, and a sparkling bronze eye at the top to welcome visitors. Now, it stands stripped of color with age; the flags are long worn down and the eye has oxidized to a dull brown. The Korok hovering above it gasps and wiggles when it spots her, then flies off before she can properly greet it.

The second gate is in much the same condition as the first. Finally, she passes under a few ropes decked with wooden talismans and enters the village.

It's... almost the same. She rides past tall black pines and weeping willows and remembers when they were planted. One of the pumpkin patches has been converted into a plum tree nursery. But the buildings, the terraces, the koi ponds, the talismans strung overhead clacking in the wind, the lanterns and bridges and streets; it's all the same.

All of the people she passes are unfamiliar, young and old alike, and although many of them go about their business, several of them stop to stare at her. Is something on her giving her away? They can't stare at every dirty traveler who enters the town; even with her torn clothes, surely it's fairly normal for people to come through after surviving monster attacks. She steers Horse down to the square at the foot of the Elder's house, heedless of the little crowd she seems to be attracting, and graciously ignores how the men standing guard there jump to attention. She can't blame them for their caution. She must be quite a sight to see: riding in on a horse with a Bokoblin brand on its rump, wearing a torn and bloody dress, covered in grime from the road. And with an ever-growing audience, if the multiplying mutters and whispers behind her are anything to go by.

She shifts on Horse's back, and it's only by chance that she notices the glare of something metallic across one of the guard's faces. Curious, she lifts a hand to see what could have caused that—and the sun glints off of one of her bracelets, the golden seal of the royal family reflecting brilliant light into her eyes. She startles so badly that she almost falls off of Horse, but a hand reaches up to steady her and she grabs it without a second thought.

Taking a moment to blink the black spots out of her eyes—goddesses, ow—Zelda almost misses it when someone in the crowd says, "...Princess Zelda?"

She looks up, green eyes combing through the assembly to find whoever called for her. They all stare up at her the same way, though; there's no way to tell who spoke, so she simply musters up all the poise and grace that was drilled into her as a child, gives a beatific—if tired—smile, and asks, "Yes?"

The Sheikah burst into noise and activity around her. She lets out an indignant squawk as a pair of large hands take her by the waist, hoist her off of Horse, and deposit her down to the ground below. The Sheikah crowd around her like ducklings, crying and cheering, asking after her wellbeing, reaching out to shake her hands. A pair of children—twins, maybe, and barely taller than her knee—latch onto her calves and stare up at her with big, watery eyes and smiles that split their faces.

It's the most genuine happiness she's seen in a hundred years, and she can't help but let go of the problems plaguing her for the moment and just laugh along with their antics. Any tears that may fall are swiftly scrubbed away by the gentle hands of those surrounding her.

She's giggled, smiled, and cried her way through half a dozen hand shakes before a voice from above interrupts the impromptu celebration.

"What in Hylia's name is going on out here?" An old voice croaks, and the crowd quickly quiets down as everyone's attention turns to the elder's house. At the top of a long flight of stairs, a familiar-faced girl holds the arm of an elderly woman. Stooped and shriveled as she is now, with all of her long hair bundled up tight beneath her wide sugegasa, she's still recognizable even at a distance. "Hylia above, is this how you greet your lost princess? I should think you've all been taught better than that," she scolds lightly.

The Sheikah around Zelda finally part, the twins' father carefully coaxing them to let go of her legs, which they do with visible disappointment. A smatter of "apologies, Princess" choruses around her, but she pays them no mind. She can't stop smiling, even as fresh tears threaten to roll down her cheeks at the sight of her beloved friend.

"Impa," she calls.

Above, Impa gives the smallest of smiles back and beckons with one hand. "Please, Princess. We've much to discuss." With that, the girl at her side—the spitting image of Impa from a hundred years ago—helps the Sheikah Elder to turn and disappear into her house. Without hesitation, Zelda leaves the crowd and marches up the steps to join her. The door closes behind.

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"He disappeared?" Impa asks, setting down her tea cup on the low table in front of her. She looks like she's come up against an unexpected puzzle. It's an expression she wore often when they were researching the guardians together.

"Yes," Zelda says. In the hour between her arrival in Kakariko and now, she's freshened up and changed into a new set of clothes. Now, with her hair still damp from her bath, she sits on a cushion across from her old friend and fights down the impulse to pick at the resist-dyed sleeves of her new Hylian tunic. "There was a flash of light and he was gone."

Impa doesn't look at all surprised at that, and that familiar expression recedes a tad. Her reply is delivered slowly: "My Princess, are you certain he didn't just teleport with that Slate of yours? He's gotten quite adept at using it."

Zelda shakes her head. "If that was so, why would he leave the Master Sword? You know he doesn't go anywhere without it."

Impa sits back, looking a bit more concerned. Paya—her granddaughter, apparently—bustles in to refill her tea cup before fading back into the background. "Well, you're quite right about that. And I doubt that sword would allow him to part with it for long, after the effort he went to to get it back..."

"It barely allowed me to handle it after he disappeared." Zelda frowns, looking across the room where the fabric-wrapped blade sits alongside the rest of Horse's saddlebags. She spares a thought for Horse—taken out to graze by a fresh-faced Sheikah youth both older and far younger than she—before returning to the conversation. "I think it recognizes the soul of Hylia in me, so it hasn't truly burned me like it might a stranger. But it only lets him hold it without pain."

"But you handled it before, a century ago," Impa recalls. "Why would it disallow you to hold it now?"

Zelda shakes her head. "I have no idea…"

They lapse into silence, but then something seems to occur to Impa. "Have I told you how that boy found the Master Sword in the first place?"

Zelda thinks for a moment. "You have, but it's been so long… I recall that he was only a child, right?"

"Five or six, I would guess," Impa confirms, leaning forward. "His Majesty used to conduct yearly inspections of the military training camps alongside myself and the head of the Royal Guard—Link's father. That foolish boy heard of his father's trip and begged to come along. He was meant to stay with the soldiers and not cause any trouble while we toured the camp. But that child was so spirited and mischevious, always looking for adventure back then..." In all the years they've known each other, Zelda would never have described Link as "spirited" or "mischevious". Heedless of Zelda's thoughts, Impa continues, "We only found him hours later, stumbling out of the Lost Woods of all places! The soldiers called it pure luck that he managed to escape the forest at all. But that sword was with him."

It was destiny, they both know. Destiny brought that child to the sword, destiny led him out of the Lost Woods safely, and destiny turned him into the youngest knight in recorded Hylian history. Luck had little to do with it.

By the time Zelda met him only a few years later, that mischevious child had already been crushed under the responsibility of being the hero of legend.

Shaking her head, Impa finally concludes, "No matter what we tried, Link wouldn't let that sword go for anything, and the sword wouldn't allow anyone to touch it except for him. Those who tried found themselves burnt and exhausted."

"Just like when I tried to handle it earlier," Zelda realizes.

"Precisely," Impa says. "Legend suggests only those who are worthy will be able to withstand the master sword's touch. Perhaps that has something to do with its reaction to you yesterday."

Zelda spares a dispassionate glance at the wrapped blade. "Worthy? But…" What made her worthy of holding the blade 100 years ago that she doesn't have now?

There's silence for a moment, then Impa sighs. "With regards to your search, I'm aware that Link bought a house in Hateno sometime in his second month awake. It might be prudent to check there before continuing your journey. You ought to visit Purah too, while you're there." Impa eyes her for a moment. "If you truly do intend to keep looking for him, that is."

"Of course I do!" Zelda exclaims, aghast. "He wouldn't disappear without telling anyone."

Impa shakes her head. "He is a different man than he was before, Princess. But... Maybe not as different a man as either of us might have expected, given his ordeal." Impa's gaze falls on Zelda, and something warm bubbles up in Zelda's chest at seeing those familiar red eyes despite the wizened skin around them. "You have both been through so much this past century, haven't you?"

Zelda pauses, then redirects with, "As if you haven't." Smoothing the wrinkles from the front of her tunic, she continues, "You'll need to tell me more about what has happened among the Sheikah once Link is found."

"Of course, Princess." Impa's eyes crinkle at the corners, graciously ignoring the evasion. Then her smile dims. "However, there is another pressing matter we must discuss before you set off to find your knight."

Zelda has the sinking suspicion she knows where this is going, but she takes a sip of her tea and gestures for her old spymaster to continue anyway.

Not one to beat around the bush, Impa forges on. "Princess, what are you going to do about your kingdom? With the Calamity vanquished, Hyrule will fall to anarchy if a government is not put in place soon."

With that question in the air, a short, tense silence falls between the two. Zelda's grip tightens as she stares down into her tea cup. The dark dregs of the tea swirl around the white raku interior like grains in an oil slick. "I don't know," she finally admits haltingly. "It has been so long. The people who are still left—do they even want a monarchy anymore?" Am I even necessary anymore? She thinks, but doesn't say.

It's almost like Impa can read her mind from the way she settles back into her cushion. "We all have our parts to play, child," she consoles. "Sometimes it's not about what we want, but what we need."

"But I don't know what they need!" Zelda replies with a panicked edge in her voice. Magic flares up beneath her skin and she quickly sets the cup down before she can blow it up in her hands. "How can I know what my people need when I haven't seen them in a hundred years?"

The pitying look on Impa's face would have Zelda's hackles rising if it was being worn by anyone but Impa. "I suppose that is the question." The old woman's face morphs again, but she covers it with her tea cup before Zelda can properly pin down what the new expression means. "Then I suppose the solution is for you to go out and see for yourself, isn't it? Figure out what the people of Hyrule need with your own two ears. Maybe you'll even find that knight-errant of yours along the way."

Zelda has no qualms with that idea, though she can't help but think Impa has been planning to propose it ever since the beginning of this conversation. So instead she asks, "And what of the immediate future? The people deserve to know that Ganon has been vanquished, but won't that hasten anyone looking to fill the power vacuum?"

"It may," Impa concedes. "Though I doubt if anyone in Hyrule is organized enough to make a bid that large at the moment, I wouldn't be surprised if ambitious people started to consolidate power again due to that news. And soon."

Zelda is reluctant to say it aloud, but she can think of one group that might still have enough manpower to try to establish themselves as the new force presiding over Hyrule. The real question is if they have a leader with the charisma to do it unquestioned.

Inexplicably, she thinks again of that strange man she passed at Kakariko bridge: the hungry look in his eyes, his gaze following her back as she rode away. She fights down a shudder. "Then we'll have to move fast," she says. "I am not entirely certain that Hyrule needs me specifically, but they do need someone. Would you write to King Dorephan and the Rito and Gerudo leaders? Inform them that Calamity Ganon has been defeated by Link and myself, and that I will be surveying the land for the next few months to better understand the needs of the people before we officially reestablish the monarchy."

Impa nods and makes a gesture. Paya suddenly emerges from the shadows at her side—Goddesses, despite her meek personality the girl is just like her grandmother at that age—and starts taking notes in a little booklet. "Would you also like me to inform them of Link's disappearance?" Impa asks.

Zelda doesn't miss how Paya's writing hand falters at that question, but gracefully ignores it. "I... they deserve to know that as well. He isn't just our hero, after all; he saved them too. Please let them know that I am investigating the matter personally, and that I may ask for their cooperation concerning the investigation in the near future."

Impa nods. "It will be done, Princess. We should also consider sending a contingent to Hyrule Castle." Zelda opens her mouth to object, but Impa holds up a hand to stop her. "We ought to secure anything that survived Ganon's siege. Looters and adventurers will be more inclined to venture through now that the Calamity is gone and his beasts cannot come back; anything we can salvage before them is another thing that can be used to rebuild."

"That makes sense," Zelda allows, "but I would rather not risk any more loss of life. The guardians are offline, but what of the live beasts Link didn't clear out before he entered the sanctum?"

"You let us worry about that," Impa assures. "For now, it would be for the best if you rested for the night. Hateno is a day's ride away; you will need all the sleep you can get."

As the conversation comes to a close, none of the adults notice the little head of white hair ducking away from the windowsill. The talk lasted long past sunset, so only the fireflies are awake to hear the pitter-patter of little feet stumbling down the stairs from Impa's abode to the streets below, the fumble of a little body hoisting herself through a window to fall onto her bed, and the hushed voices of a certain pair of twins whispering deep into the night.

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Kinda tedious but necessary set-up chapter. The next Zelda chapter will finally have some action again!

welp i didn't MEAN to stay away for two years but here we are huh? Real life punched me in the face with graduation, hospital visits, new jobs, new small businesses, moving halfway across the country, and an engagement, so am about to be in serious wedding planning mode with my new fiancée. That plus shifting tastes and interests left this fic pretty low on my priority list. can't promise anything wrt a regular updating schedule, but like i said last time i don't plan to abandon this; it's just not the most important fic in my life rn. Hopefully the next chap will be out sooner, but in the meantime i'll be cringing at & revising my incomprehensible sentence structure from the old chapters

Back to ZNT universe with Link & louise's POV next chapter! Getting to some fun canon events before I take the plot off the rails.