Chapter 3

I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls

The sun sprawled across the sky as I trekked across the bridge to the Royal stables in Castletown. I was already baking in the blinding morning light, and, carrying the carpetbag, I felt the blisters forming underneath my socks from my new riding boots. My toes felt numb. Even my head was sweating underneath the dark woolen hood.

Water gurgled and babbled underneath the bridge and I resisted the urge to launch myself into its cool embrace. I also resisted the urge to indulge in fantasies of Link pushing other Royal Guards out of the way to rescue me first.

But, given how tired I was, even after walking the short distance from the Observation Room, I drifted toward the bridge's railing and slumped against it. I watched a small leaf, likely fallen from an ornamental Maple tree, float on the water toward the bridge, drawing my eye to my reflection.

Just as I had thought, the hood made me look quite stupid. And what if Link was one of the Royal Guards accompanying us? I didn't want to look so simultaneously unfashionable and unknowledgeable of the weather. He would laugh at me. At least he would, if he ever spoke. He likely already thought of me as a clumsy security liability. I mean, who wants to protect a Princess who gets drunk and trips over nothing? But now I looked more than clumsy. I looked like an idiot. Who wears a woolen cloak in mid-summer?

And that's exactly what I had thought an hour earlier, when talking with Father. He had welcomed me rather exuberantly, ushering me inside his formal study to stand on the plush rug, before handing me a parcel wrapped in brown paper and twine. The morning light, focused through the colored stain glass windows, glistened on the ink inscription—"To Zelda." He smiled at me and nodded, urging me to open it.

I untied the twine bow, surprised he had thought of me. And, as I pulled apart the paper with a crinkle, the gift was soft in my hands—was it a new dress perhaps? But, holding it at arm's length, I discovered it to be an antithesis of a fashionable dress. A dark woolen cloak.

"Although it is June, please wear this when you've left the castle. It's important that you're not recognized when you're traveling with such a small security detail."

I opened my mouth to respond in protest, but he immediately fixed a stern glare on me. Taking the woolen bundle in my hand I demurely bowed at him.

"Zelda, you are Hyrule's last and greatest hope," he said. "Never forget that for a moment. Without you we cannot hope to seal away the Calamity."

The platitudes. Oh how I hated them. His banalities filled all of our conversations, crowding out any genuine sentiment with stale phrases gleaned from history books and prayer services. In fact, we no longer communicated or conversed at all. Rather, we performed. We performed some obscure play or ancient ritual to an omnipresent invisible audience. And, while I tried my best to rehearse my part, I always panicked, feeling as though I had never been given my lines.

And so I nodded, anxious to look away from his piercing gaze. He had already told me, with each new day of my life, that I was the only hope. A reminder was unnecessary, even insulting. Yet he continued.

"I will be praying for your success. I hope for our sake that you are praying as well."

I dismissed myself in silence, his words echoing in my ears until I left the Castle.

I was still puzzled on his insistence that I disguise myself. Nothing about my current outfit—black pants, leather riding boots, and a blue cardigan of sorts over one of my starched white shirts—identified me as royalty. My tiara was braided securely in my hair. Even the royal insignia on my shirt could be considered the mark of nobility or of moneyed merchants—it betrayed wealth but not my identity. In fact, with this outfit, I thought I resembled the girls of Castletown who so stylishly parodied the clothes of working village girls. With coiffed curls they would wear riding clothes, when they had only ever ridden in carriages—the ones with the gold-tasseled silk curtains—all their life.

Was Link born in a small farming town? An embarrassing country accent could explain his hesitancy to speak. But if so, where had he learned to dance like a true courtesan? His skills outshone some of the young nobility who I had seen dancing at various balls and banquets. The fluidity of his every step, and the confidence by which he had lead me through complex turns and spins revealed a boy—a man—who had danced for years.

I would research his past once I returned from my journey. Yesterday had been so full of preparations for the trip that I hadn't been able to start collecting information on Link. Butterflies fluttered again inside my stomach as I thought of Link arranging the security detail.

"Your Highness," a Royal Guard asked, approaching me. "Are you alright? Could I carry something of yours toward your destination?"

"Hu—Yes!" I exclaimed, becoming aware of the noise of the moat, the heat emanating from the bridge, and the mustachioed Royal Guard who stood a respectful distance from me. "Thank you for offering. I'm traveling to the Royal Stables." I offered him a gracious smile. "I don't know the way. Could you lead me there?"

"I'd be happy to escort you, your highness," he said with a bow of his helmet.

Several Guards opened the old giant gates as we approached them. Once they were open, the sky filled with light and I walked into a carnival of sorts. Tents, each woven from a different colored fabric, lined the moat. Each were filled with exotic fruits, colorful fabrics, or sweet-smelling flowers. These tents then faded into rows of azure-roofed, white-washed houses. The fountain babbled and a few fiddlers played a cheerful folk tune.

Perhaps I could ask the Guard for some information about Link. But how could I extract information without alerting him to my intentions? I didn't need any gossip regarding my romantic pursuits circulating amongst the ranks.

I waited for the fiddle music to end and the fountain's babble to fade into the background. He paced a couple of steps ahead of me. If I hadn't met Link, I would have thought him to be among the youngest of the Royal Guards. He was about ten years older than me, and his styled black hair and mustache suggested a man in touch with the latest fads.

"My apologies, but I didn't catch your name earlier." I stated, hoping to prompt a conversation.

"I'm Denzin, Ma'am," he replied with a sideways smile and a nod. Just as I had two nights ago, I wondered how the blue beret remained in place as he moved his head.

A white-haired man peddled pocket knives, and my father's words of farewell echoed in my mind.

The crowd gasped and Denzin dodged an enthusiastically clapping women, guiding me to the right. Beyond the thronging crowd, a colorful circus performer juggled flaming torches high into the air. Juggling fire seemed to be easier than accessing my divine powers. Even self-immolation seemed less frightening than allowing the Calamity to return. And, at least with juggling I would be sure to find a teacher.

But, even if I couldn't control divine powers or juggle fire, at least I could try to learn more about Link. A life of royal duties had made me develop exceptional conversational skills. And an ability to bluff with ease.

"Well, Denzin, the King has asked me to design more effective recruiting campaigns for the Hylian Royal Forces, so I'm interested in learning more the Royal Guards and the Hylian Knights." I lied, gesturing my hands about as if lost in thought. "If I may ask, were you born in the countryside?"

"Most of us are, Ma'am," he said, turning his head to look back at me. "I myself was born and raised on the plains of Akkala."

"That's interesting." I lied once again. "How did you learn about the Hylian Royal Forces and why did you decide to enlist?"

After listening to about thirty seconds of Denzin explaining his childhood spent shoveling cow manure into a wagon and weeding squash fields, I realized that I had made a mistake in asking him for his life's story. Three minutes in and I still lacked any new knowledge of Link. But I certainly knew a lot more about this Royal Guard than I could ever hope to know.

After making several turns into various alleyways and avenues, we arrived at an ivy-covered brick wall with a large wooden gate at it's center. From within I could hear the braying of horses and assorted shouts. But Denzin kept talking.

"And after the sixth hen died in a month, I realized that I needed to find a new life for mys—oh it looks as if we've reached the stables already. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more, Ma'am. Do you require any additional assistance?"

"That should be all, thank you," I said, slipping into the open gate with all humanly possible speed.

"Safe travels, your highness."

I smiled at him, a smile that betrayed genuine happiness to be alone.

I entered the dusty pasture and breathed a sigh of relief. Within this walled courtyard of sorts, a few weeds sprouted from the compacted dirt. The space was empty, save for a young Sheikah man leaning against the far brick wall of the stable yard. Something about his bearing, or the dark woolen hood concealing his face, seemed familiar. But I turned and walked toward the red-painted building to the back of the dusty paddock. The noon bells chimed form the town's center and I was surprised that I had arrived earlier than Impa and the other researchers.

I found the dark-haired stable master within the stable, a faded wooden counter and. Behind him, several rows of stalls led to sunny pastures stretching out beyond the walls of Castletown. In between the braying of horses, I told him that I would be traveling with the Sheikah researchers. When he answered, he spoke with a slight lisp. "Of course, your highness. I'll be right back out with your horse. Please feel free to wait in the front paddock in the meantime."

I turned and pushed open the stable's squeaky door.

Only a minute later the stable master led out the horse, the same that I had ridden during my equestrian lessons last year, one of the pale white thoroughbreds reserved for the Royal Family. His mane was braided and he was saddled, with several empty saddle bags hanging above his legs.

"Your father sent word and asked that he not be outfitted in the Royal regalia. But we ensured he was properly saddled," the stable master said. "We've been taking good care of him for you."

I reached out my hand to stroke the horse's neck, feeling his silky hair.

"Thank you very much, sir."

The stable master took my carpet bag from me and began packing it into the saddlebags as I continued petting the horse, watching his large dark eyes blink at me.

"Your highness, do you require assistance in mounting the horse?" a younger stablehand asked. "We have a stool available."

"No thank you, I should be fine."

Eager to prove that I was capable of doing something—anything, really—myself, I lifted my right foot into the stirrup. I shifted my weight slightly onto the metal rod as I grabbed hold of the horse's neck. I shut my eyes as I quickly stood in the stirrup, swinging my left leg up over the horse's back. I grabbed the reins. I was on!

I forgot how tall horses were. I shut my eyes again, leading the horse around the paddock in the hope that I would get used to the height. After one circuit around the yard I had cracked my eyes open and was soon urging the horse into a gallop. "Good boy," I said, patting his head and stroking his neck. The hooded figure still lurked in a corner.

As I guided my steed around a corner, Impa and Purah walked out of the stable, leading their two brown mares into the yard. Large, curving straw hats bobbed on their heads.

"Good morning Zelda!" they called in unison.

I looked over to Impa, "Have our guards arrived yet?"

"No, we'll be convening with them at the Garrison to the South." Impa answered. I must have looked concerned, because she quickly added, "but don't worry about our safety, our path will be watched from various watchtowers until we meet up with the protection detail."

Purah looked at me, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. "Were you hoping Link would be one of them?"

I blushed, stuttering. "N-no, I was curious!"

She laughed. "I shouldn't have teased, I apologize. But your dancing was quite lovely the other night."

I couldn't help but smile, suddenly hearing the waltz and remembering that breathless feeling.

"However, you did crush Rodolfo's spirits quite a bit," Purah said, gesturing her thumb over her shoulder at the cloaked figure still skulking about the wall.

"Was that the Sheikah who approached me and asked me to dance?"

Purah nodded. I blushed.

"I didn't mean any offense, I simply and truly didn't want to dance at all. Dancing with Master Link was quite accidental," I said, waving my hands about urgently. "If I had drank less champagne I'm sure I would have accepted his offer, I was simply so confused and unsteady!"

"You can come over now Rodolfo, she doesn't hate you!" Purah yelled, having already turned toward him as soon as I started talking.

He spurred his dark horse forward and trotted besides Purah, flipping his hood off his head to reveal a pale face and carefully combed silver hair. He bowed forward, as much as his seated position would allow.

"Your highness, I'm Rodolfo. It brings me such true honor to finally meet you in person."

I remembered his face. He was indeed the man I had believed to be a young Lord and had subsequently rejected.

"Please, call me Zelda," I said. "As long as I'm traveling as a part of the excavation team I do not want to impose royal protocol on any of you. And considering I'm not a scientist myself and merely a novice with regards to ancient technology, I cannot consider myself anyone's superior."

"Well I am no scientist myself, Zelda," he said with a gracious smile. He spoke with a melodious and lilting accent in an old-fashioned sort of way, as if he were reciting poetry.

"You may have seen me in the library many days, I know I've seen you. I earn my keep as a Court Poet. Your Father appointed me a few years ago, but he has allowed me to spend much of my time traveling the world in search of inspiration and knowledge." He trotted his anxious horse around me in circles.

"If you mind me asking, why are you traveling with the researchers, if you are a poet?"

"I'm not part of the ancient research effort, but in the past, Impa has asked me to translate some of the ancient texts she's discovered. There are so many ancient dialects," he explained, a smile lighting his face. "But my interest primarily stems from the responsibilities of my position. The Sheikah have remembered their history through songs and poems remembered by ear. And when some were forgotten, they were lost from memory. And so it is my duty to seek out physical records from which I can write new songs. I'm also hoping to transcribe all the other songs I may hear throughout the land."

I nodded, intrigued by his interest in ancient history. Perhaps he had knowledge of the olden Princesses that would aid me in discovering my abilities. I opened my mouth to respond, but the clatter of the wooden gates drew my attention to the entrance.

"Ah, you're all here already," Robbie said loudly, striding into the yard with several large packages and bundles in his arms. "That's wonderful. Give me a few minutes to load up my horse and we'll be ready to set off."

I turned around and Purah and Impa were already atop their horses, several colorful packs and clacking metal instruments besides them.

Impa rode over to me, glancing at Rodolfo as well. She waved a small parchment map in her hand. "Here's our itinerary. We're picking up two guards at the Garrison to the South. Then we're going to camp at Gatepost Town for the night so that we can spend the entire day on the Plateau. We'll stay there as long as we need to find this technology."

I had barely begun to look at the map, when several stable hands began yelling and running out of the stables.

Robbie burst out into the yard in pursuit of the stable hands with a clatter of hooves as he reared his horse up on its hindlegs. He swung an unsheathed sword about, striking a statuesque pose. "Ancient Technologyyyyyyy Tiiiiimeeeeeeeee!"

"Last one to the Plateau's a rotten egg!" Purah exclaimed, dashing out of the yard on her horse, with Robbie galloping behind her.

"For the love of the shining tri-force," Impa muttered. "Just follow me out you two, and hopefully we won't need to clean up too many messes."

A loud crash followed by maniacal laughter, horrified screams, and a rooster squawking echoed about in the stone alleyway.

"It might be too late for that," Rodolfo said with a horrified yet curious expression on his face.

After a few frightening minutes of watching Purah and Robbie nearly collide with both a cabbage stand and a band of traveling musicians, I smiled when the echoes of hooves on flagstone faded to soft thumps on the packed-dirt trail outside the walls. A few angry pigeons flew out of the gate with us in a flutter of wings. The warm breeze lifted my hair and I urged my horse forward. I couldn't remember the last time I had ventured outside of Castletown's walls for something other than prayer.

We passed into speckled sunlight in the hunting woods of the Sacred Grounds, a stag running out in front of me. Small yellow flowers lined the road. Orange tiger lilies bobbed in the meadow grasses, as if waving hello. The distant hills of Hyrule Field appeared as tables, spread in a crocheted lace cloth, embroidered with cornflowers and clover. A blue sky poured over the hills.

Although the world was beautiful, my thoughts all revolved around images of Link emerging from the Garrison. How amazing it would be to be alone with him outside the castle! Perhaps he would see me in my white dress—white as the clouds smiling above me. Perhaps he would lead me around the Great Plateau. Perhaps…

We trotted through the thatched-roof houses of Mabe Village and rode out, into the open fields, until butterflies began racing though my veins as the Hyrule Garrison grew closer. Towers and pike-topped fortress walls sat on a low hill. Swords clashed and men grunted from within the walls.

This would be it.

Impa led the four of us toward the gate and stopped before it. A shape moved from within a window, disappearing into darkness.

A few seconds later, the iron gate creaked open from the inside.

Two men in armor, neither of them Link, rode out to meet us. My internal butterflies evaporated in the heat, like the mirages that had flickered above the road. I was no longer sure of my excitement. The hope that had percolated within me for an entire day, bubbling into daydreams and trembling hands, vaporized. Link would not be seeing me in my moon-white dress tomorrow.

"Lady Impa, I presume?" the taller-torsoed one asked. "We're here to escort her royal highness."

"Thank you, for accompanying us," I said, riding forward lowering my hood briefly to reveal the crown perched above my braids.

Like Rodolfo in the stable yard, both Guards bowed forward on their horses, crossing their right gauntlets over their heart. "We've been informed that you'll be taking the western roads, which have been safer in the past few weeks." They spoke but I heard nothing. "We'll lead you through the Garrison and we should reach the Exchange within an hour or so."

I nodded, attempting to act authoritatively, or at thee very least, mildly professional. The two knights continued to talk with Impa as I bobbed my head reflexively. I was heartbroken, but the routine of royal formalities was instinctual. A dull numbness washed through my mind. Why had I expected Link to be one of the Guards?

One of the Guards who wasn't Link—the shorter one—trotted toward in front of Impa, while the other fell back behind Purah and Robbie, who had since started to imitate bird calls. After a few more words I covered my hair with my hood once again and we spurred our horses forward.

A traveling merchant, weighed down with bundles of herbs and several copper skillets, approached us. He raised his hand to wave us closer but, seeing the armored knights, turned and paced away from us. After his departure, the roads beyond the Garrison remained desolate.

The Shiekah poet Rodolfo had been humming, faintly singing a wordless tune but now began to sing in earnest, something about Hyrule's peace and "Ganon's jaws." Impa started humming, harmonizing with his melody, as if providing accompaniment for the following verse. Bolstered, Rodolfo sang louder.

After listening to the droning of a few stanzas, I spurred my horse forward until I could decipher the words.

"And free-willed machines that hunted down their prey,

These Guardians were built to last so they could join the fray.

To guide the beasts in battle, warriors were needed,

So four Champions were pledged to see Ganon defeated."

This was the story of ten thousand years ago, but as a ballad. Perhaps I could learn more of the ancient myths and the sealing powers from Rodolfo!

"Divine Beasts, Champions, princess, and knight,

The Guardians kept the heroes safe through every hour...

The Divine Beasts unleashed attacks that weakened Ganon's power.

The hero with the sealing sword struck the final blow,

And the holy power of the princess sealed Ganon so."

I paused for several moments to be sure that the song had ended. Rodolfo hummed lightly again. "I've never heard that song before," I stated.

"Of course you haven't," Robbie shouted. "That's because he wrote it."

Rodolfo blushed.

"That's precisely why I liked it!" I stuttered, once again trying to convince this man I didn't dislike him. "I've been trying to find more information about the ancient princess myself."

He grimaced but his eyes seemed to smile at my response. "It's still a work in progress, as it's the story of ten thousand years ago. But to disentangle myth from fact requires so much work."

He glanced shyly at me. "And, if you were willing, I was hoping you could tell me about the capabilities of your divine powers. The legends have left a rather sparse depiction of the princess's sealing powers and I'm hoping to accurately depict the battle against the Calamity."

Taken aback, my head hollowing out with fear, I replied faintly. "I wish I could tell you more. But with regards to sealing Ganon, I'm afraid I know no more than you." How easy it was to tell white lies. "I have never had to use them, after all."

"Why were the divine beasts buried?" I asked quickly, hoping to deter him from asking me any more questions.

He continued talking, seemingly unaffected by my confession. "Well, the Sheikah built the ancient technology in response to a prophecy of their own time. And so, with their immense learnedness, they constructed the guardians and the Divine Beasts to support the princess and the knight. They also erected fifteen great towers and over a hundred shrines to prepare and inform the chosen hero. But then their knowledge was forgotten when the Sheikah expelled from Hyrule for an exile of so many millennia."

"Why were they exiled?"

"The Hylians feared what they could not understand. And the Sheikah demonstrated themselves to be the most technologically advanced race at the time, if not the most technologically advanced beings to ever inhabit the land of Hyrule." He paused, almost distracted by the immensity of the images he was conjuring. "With the powers to move the earth, travel great speeds, and create machines that could think, they practically wielded the power of gods. And so one of the peacetime Kings grew ordered them to leave."

"Most of the Hylian texts, at least the ones I read, told that they were expelled because they turned from the goddess and began to worship Ganon."

"Not all did. The split between those who worshipped the goddess and those who became the followers of darkness occurred after the exile."

"Then if the all the Sheikah follow the goddess, what became of the others? Some Hylians believe that all Sheikah follow Ganon, so is that a myth? Surely that faction was defeated all ago."

"No."

My heart stopped. "What do you mean?"

"The Sheikah that follow the Calamity have continued to exist, hiding away and growing in strength and number," he stared darkly into the distance.

"Wait," I paused, remembering some of the stories Urbosa told me when I was younger. "Are they the assassins of the Gerudo highlands?"

"Yes."

"Do they know about this technology?"

Each of the four Sheikah were silent until Impa, staring emptily at the empty road breathed, "We hope not."

We rode in silence for a while, the green hills and clear air continuing to surround us. A forest of sunlit birches stood to my left, growing in front of some distant highlands. Soon we passed through a wooden archway welcoming us into the "Southern Hyrule Exchange." It was a small settlement of stone buildings and some large unpainted board-and-batten warehouses. The cedar frames of these buildings had weathered into a dull gray, and a layer of soot from a blacksmith had darkened some of the colored roof shingles. A few bearded men in assorted aprons and overalls stared us as we entered town.

"Stay on the road," Robbie instructed, as he dismounted. "I'm hoping this won't take more than a few minutes. But if I'm not back by then, please send someone into rescue me from Ms. Smart."

He tethered his horse to a hitching post before running up a stone staircase on the side of a building.

"Who's Ms. Smart?" I asked.

"She owns one of the warehouses and the General Store here," Impa explained. "She's a Gerudo woman who fancies Robbie quite a bit."

"Then why does he keep returning to the Exchange if she causes him so many problems?" I asked. "Couldn't he have just bought what he needed from somewhere in Castle Town or even Mabe Village?"

"Well some of the archaeological tools he's buying are quite specialized. But mostly, he wouldn't get such great deals there. Ms. Smart always gives Robbie a discount."

Purah's mare seemed antsy to get back to moving, so she began looping around the road that led into town.

"The Great Colosseum is beyond Aquame Lake, to the Southwest," she explained to me, pointing at the lake to her left.

"Is it still in use?"

"Oh yeah! Just last year I watched some Hylian Knights battle each other. I'm pretty sure they use some of their fights as a recruitment tool." She nudged her horse away from a clump of daylilies and toward some grass. "They'll also feature some of their more talented swordsmen fighting assorted challengers, but for most of the year, its filled with some slightly more illegal battles. You know, animal fighting and whatnot."

"Isn't that regulated?" I asked, aghast. "I mean, doesn't the Castle own the building?"

"Well, your highness," Purah said, "what the Castle doesn't know doesn't hurt it."

With that, our two guards approached, suddenly interested in the conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Impa grimacing in exasperation before letting her head fall into her hands.

"Well Miss, the Royal Guards are well aware of all the fighting that occurs there," the ruddy-faced Guard said, chuckling. "Year round," he clarified with a tap of his nose.

"I've known plenty of knights and Royal Guards alike who have fought there to earn extra money," the other chimed in. Then he turned directly at me, "In fact the young Master Link recently rescued this one indebted knight who had been forced to fight there by a group of mercenaries."

Despite my desire to inquire about Link's exploits, I sensed Impa's desperate desire to change the subject. Besides, it would likely be unwise to reveal any interest in him to these Guards.

"How far away is the Great Plateau?" I asked her loudly.

"Not much further now," she answered quickly. "We're near the base of the Plateua, but Gatepost Town is to the East. "It would be quicker to travel on the eastern roads, but this route has always been safer."

A silence followed her answer.

"Rodolfo," I asked quickly, turning to him, "have you visited the Temple of Time before?"

"I have several times before. It's built of lovely, ancient stone, and the interior walls are marble. Even the floor is made of terrazzo." He grew more excited with each sentence, until his chest was practically heaving. "I've made sure that we'll be arriving precisely at dawn so that you can see the sun illuminate all the marble at once. Praying inside its walls will become like stepping inside a diamond!"

As he began talking about the types of trees native to the Great Plateau, the types found nowhere else in the land of Hyrule, Robbie appeared, exasperated and defeated, yet carrying a small bundle of sable brushes, small hammers and even smaller shovels.

"Let's go," he said, quickly packing his saddlebags before mounting his horse and spurring us toward the road.

"How was Ms. Smart?" Impa asked with a smirk.

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied, slumping forward in defeat.

A few minutes later the road bent and I exhaled. The great wall rose as a solid cliff face, taller than the tallest spire of the Castle. It glowed golden in the early evening, mirroring the reddening sky behind us. A few trees and rocky outcroppings rose above the monolithic wall.

"This is the birthplace of Hyrule," Purah announced grandly, gesturing both her arms outward before quickly grabbing the reins again to regain her balance.

"Who built the walls?" I asked, my jaw still gaping in amazement. I turned to Impa, "I mean, when were they built, and why?"

"Their origin is as shrouded in the same mists of myth and legend that obscures the origins of the Plateau itself, she explained, sighing. "And the same mists that obscure the ancient technology."

"My favorite legend," Robbie said, urging his horse forward with a kick of his spurs, "is that the goddess herself carved this piece of land out of some other place in Hyrule. She then carried it here, and the Sheikah, or the Hylians, built these massive walls around it."

"You're so full of shit," Purah muttered, out of her sister's earshot.

"Well," I asked, genuinely curious, "where would the land have originated from?"

"Probably where the Great Forest is now."

"And how do you believe that, Mr. Scientist? Impa asked.

"I've cut up several maps! The sizes and land shapes almost align."

"Emphasis on almost."

"I'm not the only one who believes this, Impa! I've talked to several people in Kakariko about this and quite a few Hylians in Castletown, as well as this one Rito I was drinking with in the milk bar at Mabe Village."

"But why would the goddess have done that?" I inquired, still wondering how such a bizarre theory originated.

Robbie slowed down to talk with me, happy to have an excuse to talk with someone who expressed interest in his bizarre beliefs.

"Probably to obscure the location of that darkness sealing sword. I think that the old Hyrule Castle, and the land that fell from the sky can both be found on the Plateau, but too many people were able to access the sword that seals the darkness and the Gate of Time, so the goddesses moved the land around them. The sword is dangerous after all."

"What do you mean?"

He paused. "There's a reason why most of the people who look for the sword never return from their quests. I believe that the sword has defense mechanisms of its own to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. I don't know for certain, but I doubt young Master Link found the sword in the Temple of Time, on the Great Plateau."

"It is indeed a dangerous sword," Rodolfo stated.

My mind bustled with all the questions I wanted to ask Link once I found opportunity to talk with him. Did he find that sword on the Great Plateau, in the same Temple that I would be visiting tomorrow? Perhaps I would search for a plinth there tomorrow.

The horses' hooves echoed on the dusty stone road but the massive wall continued to deaden all the sound to my right. Some moss sprouted on the stone, but despite its age, the wall seemed whole and unblemished.

Afternoon shadows continued to lengthen as a village rose before us. The small town, bisected by the road, was filled with quaintly-painted houses and fenced gardens. The colorful rooves and trees of Gatepost Town barely obscured the wall and the immense carved doorway leading toward the Plateau, even as we rode closer to it. Some hand-painted wooden signs hanging from a store front advertised historical tours of the Great Plateau. Behind another shop's large windows, rows of statues of the goddess were available for purchase. Besides the store, a larger statue sat smiling amidst pink lilies beneath a richly embroidered awning.

"This looks to be it," Impa said, gesturing to the board and batten building on our left.

We all dismounted in the shadow of a lone maple tree and Robbie called over several boys to lead our horses to the stable. I grabbed my carpet bag and began to limp around, feeling the pain of an afternoon of riding. Impa led us toward the inn, which was one of the town's larger buildings, with a tavern on the first floor and a large wooden deck encircling it. An ornate sign hanging from the painted gables identified it as "The Cliffside Inn." Several chimneys perched on the slate roof puffed out smoke. I stepped onto the porch, Purah and Rodolfo following behind me.

Inside, a buxom young woman sashayed out from behind the bar and began talking with Impa. After several minutes, she beckoned us to follow her.

"You'll be rooming with us, Zelda if you don't mind," Impa told me, grabbing another pack from her sister.

"That's fine with me," I replied dully, eager to lie down.

The three of us walked up the stairs as the woman led Rodolfo down a separate hallway. Our room was plain, with three four-poster beds, an empty fireplace, and a table with a few chairs. A partition wall made of painted paper stood folded in the corner and a birch-framed window revealed several horse pastures. I slumped back on one of the beds and began counting the fly-spots staining the pale birch ceiling.

"Zelda, you can take a nap if you want, but the tavern is serving supper in an hour."

I mumbled something before rolling over on the musty quilt and closing my eyes.

After waking up forty minutes later in a confused stupor—convinced that I had slept straight for two days and missed the excavation—Impa led me downstairs to the tavern. I leaned against the wall as I tried not to trip down the staircase My eyes still half-shuttered, I collided with a raucous bearded man carrying two beer steins, before Impa grabbed my shoulders and steered me toward a table. The meal passed in a noisy haze. Robbie gabbed besides me at the crowded table. He then joined several men singing along to an accordion player at the bar. Having had enough, I stood up and paced toward the door.

I walked out of the inn, and stepped into the evening air, fully awakening from my disorienting nap. The wooden deck creaked beneath me. I stood in the warm lamplight of the deck and let my eyes adjust to the encroaching darkness.

The world opened to the North, over a shimmering lake and several fields. Although I had always been told that the countryside was quieter than the bustle of Castletown, an orchestra of nature surrounded me, nearly deafening me. Tree frogs sang from the trees alongside the cicadas. Crickets chirped in the grasses and a flock of geese cried from the lake. It was almost louder than the tavern, which I could still hear, muffled behind the door.

Glancing behind me to be sure no one was following me, I stepped off the porch onto a flagstone path. Without much thought, I passed a row of small houses, each covered with vines, and through small gardens along a dirt path. Tracing a finger along a graying split-rail fence, I harvested memories—I was running through a field, catching butterflies in a yellow net, then I was gathering husk tomatoes with Mother, picking the papery lanterns from dying stalks in October, and then being chased through rows of towering sunflowers and maroon cosmoses. She had brought me to the Harvest Festival in Mabe Village.

A few pale cuckoos passed ahead of me, clucking, as I wandered away from the path and unto the soft grass. Even my weary aching feet in their boots could feel the difference in textures. The grassy hills continued toward a lake and rocky outcroppings to my left.

White clouds streaked the wide dusky sky, and I could even see the winds carrying them eastward. I savored the breezes, the smell of grass, and the dampening cooler air that clung to my arms like gossamer sleeves. The glow of the rising moon illuminated a grove of birches and the pale wildflowers bobbing in the night. Like a beacon or the morning star, it guided me toward the lake, which reflected the waning colors of the pale pink sky.

I couldn't help but run toward the water. Soft grass turned into the crunch of gravel beneath my feet.

As I approached the pebbled shore, a frog hopped into the lake with a ribbit and a loud splash. He swam toward a clump of cattails and iris stalks to my right, disappearing into reflected shadows. My blonde hair turned silver in the lake water; even my traveling clothes seemed elegant in reflection. A purple aura hung about me, surrounding me with a hazy halo.

I heard footsteps. I turned to see Impa and Purah ambling toward me.

"Are you alright?" Purah asked, "You left without telling us and we were worried."

"It was rather noisy," I replied, turning back to face the lake. "And it's a beautiful night. Far too beautiful of a night to waste indoors."

I continued. "This lake smells different from the water around the castle, and even the springs I've visited. It feels rather stagnant, I suppose."

"This is what the sea smells like," Impa said, inhaling deeply before crouching done and searching for something among the pebbles."

"Don't you mean what low-tide smells like?" Purah giggled. "The lake's usually sparkling clear, but the water level has sank so much this summer. And the duckweed certainly doesn't help."

"I haven't been to the sea in many years. I suppose I've forgotten what the tides smell like. But what is that building above the lake?" I asked, noticing the tower that gleamed with firelight, not unlike a coastal beacon.

"That's the Kolomo Garrison." Impa said, lobbing a stone so that it skipped over the smooth water. "And they say an ancient monster made of rock lives on the small island, but I think that's just a myth." After six skips, the stone collapsed beneath the surface with a loud plunk. Several small circles emanated from it.

We stared in silence by the lapping lake water for several timeless moments. More stars appeared in the lake, as the pink clouds faded to white. Then, when the breeze began to blow again, we paced westward along the shore, watching the fireflies flicker in the purple tinged evening.

"I'm curious," Purah said, her voice already tinged with a question, "had you met Link before the ball? Certainly it isn't customary to dance with a member of the military, especially a Royal Guard?"

"Ow!" Purah exclaimed, as Impa elbowed her.

"In all honesty," I said, facing her, "it was an accident." I exhaled and relived the memory. Every few hours I started doubting the dance myself. But once again, I could feel the floor dropping away from me and my heart leaping into the air. "I tripped and he caught me."

"And he caught you…that's adorable!" Purah squealed

"You're lucky I'm not pestering you about your dance with Robbie," Impa told her sister, crossing her arms and huffing.

"What are you going to do about it?" Purah asked me, ignoring Impa.

"What I am going to do?" I asked incredulous. "I'm going to do nothing. Because that's what's expected of me."

"But you're the Princess and—and he's the hero who wields the sword that seals the darkness," she exclaimed with glee. "Your destiny is connected! You didn't just trip over nothing, you got entangled in the threads of fate!"

The crickets sounded like violins and the lake sparkled as a polished dance floor. The trail of moonlight invited me to step on the smooth waters into an unknown summer twilight. Would there be more dances? Could Purah be right? What did my destiny entail? Again, my heart fluttered against my chest, now feeling like moths trying to fly into the stars or barn swallows swooping through the evening air.

"We should be checking on the boys and sending them to bed soon," Impa stated, trying to redirect the conversation again.

"Where are they?" I asked reflexively, still transfixed by the moonbeams.

"They're by the fire behind the inn." She said, gesturing ahead of us, at a fire burning on the hill beyond some trees.

"How do you know its them?" I asked, squinting at the shapes huddled besides the fire. "I can barely make out anything."

"Easy. Just follow the music."

Purah led us toward the fire, which flickered in front of several fenced pastures behind the inn. I nearly slipped on the dewy grass as we climbed the banks and the grassy hills. But as the ground leveled, I could make out a small fire crackling in a pit, its red sparks joining the fireflies in a flight toward the stars. Besides it, Rodolfo sat on a larger rock, strumming a small harp. He seemed to be in the middle of a song, and Robbie had joined, humming along.

Crooning, Rodolfo sang,

I dreamt that suitors sought my hand,

That knights upon bended knee

And with vows no maiden heart could withstand,

They pledged their faith to me.

And I dreamt that one of that noble host

Came forth my hand to claim.

He paused from singing, strumming a few chords before the next stanza. He sounded familiar. I had heard this melancholy voice before. This was the voice that filled the courtyard, the one that I could sometimes hear far beneath my window!

But I also dreamt which charmed me most

That you loved me still the same

He repeated this last verse several more times, each time softening and growing more desperate. I blinked back sudden tears. The smoke and the heat must be soldering my eyes shut. Folksongs like this had never moved me before, but this one returned me to the sadness that had overwhelmed me on the dancefloor two nights ago.

you loved me still the same.

Then, in a flourish of strumming he played a cadence that resolved with a few chords.

"You done yet?" Purah asked, emerging from the shadows.

Startled, Rodolfo glanced up at us and rose to his feet. "Princess" he said, bowing to me and nodding to Purah and Impa.

"You play the harp?" I asked. "I though you were a poet."

"Well of course I'm a poet. But every good poet is a better singer. And every singer needs to be able to accompany his own songs." He looked down at his harp and strummed the melody of the folk song he had been singing. "And so I play the harp."

He continued strumming with tapered fingers while gazing at the fire.

"But what about you, your highness? Surely an accomplished princess such as yourself is a musician. And," he said, now fixing his flaming eyes on me, "given your being a princess of Hyrule and a descendant of the goddess Hylia, I'm sure that you are familiar with the harp."

"Yes ," I replied, startled by his perception. "My father has had me take lessons since I was quite young."

"From Master Lyra?" Rodolfo asked. "I've been learning from him ever since I arrived at the Castle."

I nodded.

"Then I'm sure you've gained immense knowledge from your years of training. I'd be honored if you would play us a song!"

"Yes, please play us something, Princess!" Purah exclaimed, her eyes widening in the firelight.

"Don't pressure her," Impa said, scolding her sister. "We have a very early morning ahead of us, after all." Sitting down next to Rodolfo and cuffing him upside the head, she asked, "Why don't you play us one last song? And then we can retire for the night."

But Rodolfo kept his hands outstretched, offering the polished wooden harp to me. Each string twinkled in the firelight like the thread of the Milky Way.

Something about their insistence made me take the harp. But perhaps it was also my need to prove myself. Or, as I resisted my natural instinct toward cynicism, something about the harp itself called me to play—I sensed something about the night and the music hovering in the air, waiting to be distilled from the rich, sweet atmosphere.

I took the harp and sat down on the dew-drenched grass. The harp wasn't dissimilar to the one Mother gifted me on my sixth birthday. But mine was golden and ancient, covered with ornate carvings, whereas this was made of unadorned glossy cherry wood. The base of this harp, like mine, was curved like a crescent moon. I slid my fingers over the smooth surface.

A gust set a distant windchime tinkling. I thought of the memories I had harvested earlier, the ghostly images of my mother guiding me through rows of fragrant rose gardens and demonstrating how to pick ripe cucumbers. What gardens had she shown me? And why could I taste the acidic tang of vinegar in my mouth? All I remembered was thorns and blossoms together.

"This was a lullaby my mother taught me to play." I said, staring out beyond the fire, where the stars glinted on the lake and in the rustling leaves of the paper birches. "She would sing me to sleep with this tune, but I've forgotten the words."

Impa closed her eyes and the stern look on her face melted into prayerful contemplation. I suppose she too had known loss in her life. But, to recreate the atmosphere of playing alone, without an audience, I looked beyond her, past Purah who had rested her head on Robbie's shoulder, and toward the small pasture.

The cow in the pasture looked up at me as I began to strum. First I plucked out the melody, testing my tempo.

And, when I trusted my hands, I developed the melody with a few embellishing chords. As soon as I added them, the cow turned his shaggy-haired head and long horns and gazed at me, as if understanding me, or at least the music.

He was the pastoral king tonight, surrounded by fluttering monarch butterflies and a darkening field filled with pink thistle flowers. His fur resembled the grasses and the wind-tossed willows in his paddock; the twilight rendered his gold indistinguishable from the green.

And then, my fingers remembered the harmony and countermelody for the song. The geese, waddling toward the lake sounded like horns, and the horses in a distant pasture began to run, adding drums. And two herons soaring through the evening intoned ancient songs of loss and grief and love, far older than mine. Each of nature's additions urged me to keep playing.

Before me, the glowing heart of the fire mesmerized me. The shapes shifting in the embers and the flames blocked my audience from view. Too entranced to continue the complex countermelodies, I returned to the simple melody I had begun with. I hummed the rising and falling phrases to myself as I let my fingers find the accompaniment, just as my mother would play it. She always smelled like a summer pasture, as if her perfume had bottled up the sweetness of a freshly mown field.

As the memory of my mother faded, I let the wind carry away my song into silence.

I glanced up. Rodolfo stared at me, an inscrutable expression dancing across his face with the flickering shadows.

"That was amazing!" Robbie exclaimed, as he tried to clap with Purah resting on his shoulder. The clamor disturbed the peaceful evening; even the crickets and cicadas pausing their song in response.

"Alright, time for bed," Impa said standing up and stretching. "We'll be up before dawn and it's well past nine already."

She offered her hand to me and pulled me to my feet. "Your playing was absolutely beautiful, Zelda."

I smiled graciously in response. I wiped a few stray blades of wet grass from my boots with my free hand before handing the harp back to Rodolfo.

I stood with my arms outstretched for a few moments before he noticed me, "The solstice does bring early mornings," Rodolfo murmured. Finally acknowledging me, he fixed flame-red eyes on me. "That song held much magic."

He stood up and took the harp, meeting my gaze with that inscrutable expression once again. "I'd love to hear you play some other night. That song is made for moonlit skies."

Purah, already asleep on Robbie's shoulder, murmured something. Whether it was her praise for my music or her annoyance at being told to move, I couldn't tell.

"Purah, you're going up to your bed, I don't care how tired you are," Impa said.

In response, Robbie began nudging her awake with his shoulder. She mumbled and buried her face into his jacket.

"Robbie, could you make sure she finds her way back to her own bed tonight?" Impa asked with a light chuckle.

"I'll do my best." Robbie muttered with slight fear in his voice, as he tried to extricate his arm from Purah's grip.

"Goodnight everyone." Impa said, gesturing me to follow. "You all better be by the stables before sunrise."

As Impa and I trekked across the moonlit grass, Robbie continued his attempts to wake Purah. "If you wake up in the next five minutes, I'll buy you drinks at the tavern tomorrow night…"

We stepped up onto the porch and pushed open the wooden door. Inside the tavern, a few patrons were still drinking in the cozy orange lamplight. The innkeeper, a jocund man with a grey mustache, polished silverware behind the bar. He waved at us before we climbed the dim wooden steps toward our room.

While Impa changed into her nightclothes behind the folding screen, I padded across the creaky floor to the window, wading through alternating strips of shadows and pale moonlight. Desperate to feel the free night air on my skin again, I turned the rusted metal handle and pushed it open. Cool air carrying the clamor of cicadas rushed in. The moon hovered in the pane of glass and the sounds of nighttime were trapped beneath it. Rodolfo's song was still rising and floating on the breeze. I craned my head toward the west and saw him, still sitting in front of the fire, strumming and singing the same sad song. He seemed to mess up a lyric and, after cursing and pacing around the fire once, sat back down and continued singing.

And of all who assembled within those walls

That I was the hope and the pride

"Zelda, I'm all done," Impa said, folding some clothes by the end of her bed.

Startled, I jumped back from the window. I changed clothes quickly before blowing out the candle and crawling beneath the covers.

"Goodnight, Impa."

"Goodnight Zelda."

I rolled over, drawing the goose-down quilt closer to me. I felt a loose thread at the seam and began twirling it about my fingers as I prayed.

Dear goddesses, please speak to me tomorrow in the Temple of Time. Please help me access my sealing powers. And please help the Sheikah find the ancient technology they're looking for.

Tomorrow would bring me luck. Within the walls of the Great Plateau, on the very ground on which the goddess herself was said to have trod, I would unlock my sealing powers. I would make my Father proud of me. And, even more than that, I would return to the castle with the technology to operate the Divine Beasts. I smiled drowsily.

Outside Rodolfo was still singing, his song permeating the essence of the night like the smoke from the fire. The others must have left him, for only the crickets joined his mournful tune.

But I also dreamt which pleased me most

That you loved me still the same.

A/N

Well this chapter certainly took longer than intended! I just moved halfway across the country two weeks ago and I grossly overestimated the amount of free time I would have as I got settled. But, on the bright side, my daily walks have featured some super inspirational views. After all, there is nothing like nature to get the creative writing juices flowing.

Poor Zelda, romance is hard. Especially when you're crushing on one of your bodyguards. Alas, unlike Riizzes's guess, Link was not one of the guards! Things can't be too convenient for Zelda after all :)

Rodolfo (who is Kass's teacher/mentor) is named for one of the main characters in Puccini's opera, La Boheme. As for the music in this chapter, Rodolfo sings part of Kass's historical ballad that you can hear at some of the stables, and then sings "I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls," a song from the 1843 operetta The Bohemian Girl, written by Michael William Balfe.

Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I always welcome constructive criticism.