Chapter 2

The Search

No. No, this couldn't be happening. She had already almost lost him once; in fact she had lost him, for a hundred years. And then, after everything the reckless fool had survived in the fight against Ganon . . . For him to die now at the hands of his own cooking seemed too ridiculous to be real.

Zelda paced agitatedly in the corridor. She had marched right back out of the room, feeling the questioning eyes of both Link and the medic on her back but choosing to ignore them. She was much too flustered to discuss the situation yet; she needed a moment to sort out her thoughts and figure out if there was any hope, any reasonable next step.

Taking a seat on the stone floor underneath a wall sconce, Zelda opened the book again and reread the paragraph. Was that all the information there was? She turned the page and was relieved to discover that it wasn't; in fact, there was a whole chapter on the killshroom. Surely it would tell of a cure.

She scanned the following pages. Recipes for disguising the killshroom . . . no. Effects when applied directly to the bloodstream . . . no. Was this book all just about killing people? A history of killshroom usage . . . maybe this section would have something. Zelda read irritably over several stories of ancient nobles, heroes, and villains who were poisoned to death by their enemies. Finally, at the end of the chapter, she found a single story that gave her hope.

The only person believed to have survived the ingestion of a killshroom was Chief Naqai of the Gerudo. Shortly after assuming the chieftainship, she fell ill after comsuming killshrooms that were placed in her food by a rival for power. Since a servant had observed the act, Naqai quickly learned the source of her illness, and sent for a magician who produced a cure. After her recovery, the assassin was caught and executed.

It wasn't much, but it was a starting point. Zelda had a whole library at her disposal, and now she knew which section to look in. She stepped back into Link's room and summed up the information about the killshroom to him and the medic.

"So don't worry, there is a cure," she concluded. "I don't know what it is yet, but just hold tight while I go and find out."

"Zelda . . ." said Link in a voice much quieter than hers, "I'm sorry I ate those mushrooms. You told me not to. You shouldn't have to do all this for me."

Zelda was suddenly exasperated. "For crying out loud, Link, quit apologizing! I didn't tell you not to until after you'd already eaten them! And if you think for a moment that I'd even consider not doing this for you, then you're a complete fool!"

"I am a fool. I'm sor— uh . . . I am."

"No, you're not." Zelda took a breath. "You're . . . unique, that's for sure, but you're not a fool." She rested her hand on his arm. "Just keep on resting and let me do my research. I can solve this."

Link sighed. "All right. Hey, if all else fails, you can always put me back in the Shrine."

Zelda wasn't sure if he was serious or joking, but it was a moot point either way. "The Shrine doesn't work on the same person twice."

Gerudo histories. Gerudo genealogies. Gerudo legends. Zelda scanned through book after book with increasing frustration. Naqai was mentioned here and there, but she certainly didn't seem to be an important figure in Gerudo history. Her name mostly occurred only in lists, and it didn't help that she had lived a few thousand years ago. One book, the most comprehensive history book Zelda found, only mentioned that her reign began with "a failed assassination attempt." Zelda read the section over and over, hoping she had missed some more information, but there was none. None of her research on ancient magic turned up anything either.

So it was that she found herself changing into her most lightweight outfit, strapping a waterskin to her waist, and downing another energizing elixir. As the sun began to climb in the sky, Zelda turned on the Shiekah Slate and warped to the Daqo Chisay Shrine. The surge of lightheadedness as her body evaporated and the wave of nausea as it reassembled gave her a sharp pang of empathy for Link. Zelda remembered how she herself had nearly vomited the first time she had warped. But she was much more used to it now, and the sensation only lasted a brief moment before she stepped down from the shrine and headed to the Gerudo Town gate.

The guards bowed as she passed through, and she greeted them, but did not stop to explain herself. She headed straight to the barracks classroom, where she found Ashai preparing for class.

"Sav'otta," said Zelda with the best pronunciation she could manage.

"Your Highness!" the teacher replied as she turned around. "How unexpected! What brings you here today?"

"A bit of research, actually. I'm sorry to bother you before class, but it's rather urgent. I was wondering if you have any historical books in your collection? I'm looking to find out more about Chief Naqai."

"Naqai?" Ashai looked blank. "I don't remember which chief that is. I'm afraid I'm not much of a history teacher; I've always focused on the practical subjects. But I think there are one or two history books on the shelf there, and you're more than welcome to borrow them."

"Thank you." Zelda scanned the bookshelf and found a few books that looked relevant. One of them turned out to be another copy of the same large text that she had read in the Hyrule Castle library. There was also a simpler history book aimed at children, as well as a very basic book about magic. Neither of those two mentioned Naqai or killshrooms at all.

"Do you know of any other good information sources about your history?" Zelda asked. "Actually, specifically, I'm researching the cure for killshroom poisoning. I read that Chief Naqai was cured of it by a magician, but the book I have doesn't specify how."

"A magician?" Ashai looked skeptical. "Perhaps you might talk to Rotana. She's the one who's into everything ancient or mysterious. She has a lot of books, too, but I'm not sure how credible they all are . . . Ah, forgive me, Princess, I'm sure you know how to choose which sources to trust."

"No; you've been quite helpful. Thank you. I'll go speak with her. Could you direct me to her house?"

Rotana, it turned out, knew the name of Naqai, but didn't know any more about her than what Zelda had already read. She took a greater interest in the topic than Ashai had, however, and eagerly joined Zelda in searching through her book collection for anything relevant to the topic. They found a few more lists and genealogies that mentioned her, but no more details about the assassination attempt. Rotana also had a few books about ancient magic, but the only magical cures they found were for completely unrelated ailments.

"You know," said Rotana thoughtfully as Zelda began to flip through the books a second time, "I didn't remember it at first, but I'm feeling more and more that I've heard a story about Naqai before. A long time ago, when I was a child, I vaguely remember some story about a chieftain who . . . traveled a lot? I don't remember the rest. But the more I think about it, I think her name was Chief Naqai."

Zelda perked up. "A story? A legend? Is it in one of these books?"

"No," replied Rotana, "I was told it, I think. Probably by an elder."

"Is there anyone who would recall the old tales?"

"Hmm. You know what? Muava. If anyone would know it, Muava would."

"Ah, Chief Naqai. Of course. It's been a long time since I've heard that tale." The elderly woman leaned her back against the wall as Zelda and Rotana sat down on the corners of her mat.

"If you please, I would love to hear it," said Zelda eagerly. "I'm in need of some important information that be might be found in it."

"Yes," said Muava. She seemed peacefully delighted to have someone to tell a story to. "My mother told me the tale when I was young, after I laughed at a traveling Hylian for her strange clothes. She told me I shouldn't look down on foreigners, because you never know when they might have some wisdom that our own people lack.

"Naqai, she told me, was a Gerudo princess who loved to travel in her younger days. She made many friends and gained wisdom from people in different places. After she became the chieftain, she was poisoned by a cousin who wanted the throne. None of the Gerudo doctors could cure her, not even with fairies, so she sent for one of her foreign friends: an Elderly Child who was skilled in magic. The Elderly Child brought her a cure from her own land, and Naqai was healed and reigned peacefully for the rest of her life. All because she was willing to trust a foreigner."

"I see," said Zelda, making a mental note to come back and transcribe Muava's stories after this mushroom problem was over. "That's quite a good lesson. But, this magician . . . you called her an Elderly Child? What does that mean? Who was she?"

Muava chuckled. "No one knows who the Elderly Child was. I've heard one or two other tales about her. Just short ones, you know. They say she was good at planting, and could make people's gardens produce better crops. And she once aided a Hylian voe who was lost in the forest, helping him find his way out. But that's about all I recall. Where she came from or where she went; that's a mystery."

"But . . . what was she? Was she a human? How could she be elderly and still be a child?"

"Those are good questions. I always imagined her as a child with an old vai's face. Now that I think about it, that's a little creepy, isn't it? But I suppose I don't really know what she looked like."

"You said she brought a cure from her own land," continued the increasingly perplexed Zelda. "Doesn't anyone know what it was? Or what land it came from?"

Muava shrugged. "Who knows? It was long ago."

Zelda stood up. "Sarqso, Muava, you've helped me greatly. I'm sure there is someone, somewhere, who knows who the Elderly Child was. Now I must go find them."

Zelda wasn't quite sure where to start, but "Elderly Child" made her think of Purah, so she warped to the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab, figuring it wouldn't hurt to see if the Shiekah scientist had any input on the subject.

"No, Zeldy," said Purah, who seemed to be ten or eleven at the moment. Lately, you could never guess what age she might be on a given day. "You know I only developed my anti-aging rune recently. And my age-boosting rune is still being perfected. I couldn't have been in any ancient legends . . . unless I time-travelled, of course! Which I didn't. They say it is possible, and I'd like to experiment with it someday, but one thing at a time!"

"Of course, Purah. I didn't mean it was you. I just wondered if you might know anything about it. Was your research based on anyone else's? Might anyone have had an anti-aging method in the past?"

"Nope! It's my own invention! And if I find out someone figured it out before I did, I'm going to be jealous."

"All right. Look, just to be clear, you also don't know anything about the killshroom, do you?"

"Never heard of it. This is a tech lab, Zeldy, not a botany lab. . . . No offense, of course," Purah added, catching herself. "Why do you need to know so bad?"

Zelda sighed. "Just some medical research. Thank you for your time, Purah."

Since Purah was no help, Zelda just went back to the same place she always started when she needed answers: the Hyrule Castle library. Ignoring the books on herbs, political intrigue, magic, and Gerudo history that she'd left piled on the tables, she now turned to the section on folklore and ancient legends. She scanned through tale after tale from the Zora, the Gorons, the Rito, and the different human races and tribes, as well as tales of unknown origin. None seemed to mention any Elderly Child. But her experience with Muava had taught her that not everything known is written down, so after she'd gone through every book she could think of, she decided it was time to travel again.

Zelda spent the next few days warping from shrine to shrine, visiting the towns and villages across Hyrule, intermittently reporting back to Link and the medic on her progress. She started with the towns that had schools and libraries, but gradually expanded to the less-learned regions as well, talking with all the scholars and elders she could find, asking if they knew anything about killshrooms or the Elderly Child.

No one seemed to have any more information on either subject, although many were eager to help her. Impa recalled a tale similar to the one Muava had told, as did a very few elderly Hylians, but they could not tell her anything more about the Child's identity. A few Zora told of a queen who had had dwarfism, and a human fisherwoman recalled a story of a child with a low voice, but neither of them seemed to have any connection to the other tales.

A Rito offered her an herb to cure the stomach cramps from a different poisonous mushroom. She took it home and fed it to Link, who promptly threw it up (apologizing, of course). A Goron gave her a mineral mixture that would "cure all ills," but Link threw that up too. A human farmer insisted that placing a large radish under the mattress would cure fever, and Zelda tried it doubtfully, but all it did was make Link even more uncomfortable. A man with a live snail on his face said that the Elderly Child had murdered his whole family with killshrooms last week, but then his sister showed up and told him it was time to come home for dinner.

Nearly a week after Link had first fallen ill, Zelda found herself in the library once again, unsure of where else to turn. The cure existed; she knew it did, but no one could tell her what it was. It seemed she had read every book in Hyrule five times over, and now she was just going back to them once again in the futile hope that some new piece of information would stick out to her. Her eyes felt grainy, her neck and shoulders were cramping, and the tension that had been steadily rising in her chest seemed about to explode. Link was getting weaker. The amount of water he could keep down was getting smaller each day. She was running out of time; she had to find the cure . . . but she couldn't.

Zelda had always been a researcher. Even before the Calamity when she had been required to focus on her sealing power, it had felt like research was what she was really born to do. And now that the Calamity was over, she had finally been free to focus on it—to read and explore and tinker; to find answers to all her questions. And she had thrived in it. She loved information, loved solving the mysteries of the physical world. Whenever she encountered something she didn't understand, she was always able to learn how it worked if she just tried hard enough.

But now, all the research she had poured herself into felt useless. Link's life hung on the answer to this one simple question, and she could not find it. Zelda gripped the sides of her chair with shaking hands. She had done all she knew how, and it wasn't enough. She had failed.

A strange thought suddenly crossed her mind. Was this how Link felt when he couldn't help or defend anyone? Was that why he kept on apologizing? He had always been the strong one, the protector, the hero. Being unable to fill that role must have left him feeling the same way she felt now: worthless.

But that wasn't who Link was to her. He was a hero, absolutely; but that wasn't why she loved him. She loved him because he was a friend—no, not even just that—because he was Link. She loved the way he hummed to himself when he thought no one could hear. The way he held rupees up to the light as if their shine mattered more than their value. The way he picked extra apples for his horse; the way he spoke to children like adults. Even the way he fearlessly devoured any weird thing he found without a second thought.

If Link was still Link even without defending anyone, could she still be Zelda even without finding answers?

At first the thought seemed irrelevant. It certainly didn't solve the problem at hand. But as Zelda considered it, something unexpected happened. All the urgency and frustration, the pressure and franticness, the guilt she hadn't realized was there—all of it seemed to dissolve inside her; and in its place came something else she hadn't yet allowed herself to feel: a deep, crushing sadness. It wasn't exactly a better feeling, but it was different: somehow she felt like she was free to feel it, like she had permission to let it overwhelm her.

Zelda pushed the books aside, sank down to the library floor, and cried. She let the sobs shake her entire body for as long as they would come. And when she couldn't cry any more, she did another thing that, for some reason, she hadn't thought of doing until now: she begged the Goddesses to save Link's life.