Under the snow of winter, Hyrule shone. Brighter than any gem. Brighter even than Death Mountain itself. From the lower cliffs of the Eldin mountains, he could see it all; the rolling hills, the jagged mountains, the Beasts on the skyline, the Sheikah Towers with their sapphire peaks that sprung up across the landscape like the flowers of spring.

Yunobo had never set foot beyond the base of the mountains. Though not for lack of wanting. There was just no need - at least, not yet. Some Gorons travelled; merchants and traders who sold gems from the Goron mines to the other races of Hyrule. But most Gorons did not.

He squinted the brilliance of the snow and wondered what it would be like to touch. It didn't snow on the mountain; the lava made the air so hot that any rain turned to steam. But he wondered what it would be like to feel the frozen ground at his feet. To feel cold. To shiver at the brutal winter. Would he need a coat? He had never worn a coat. He had never seen another of his brothers wearing much more than rags. Looking down at the lowlands of Hyrule, Yunobo wondered if he would ever find the answers he sought.

The ground began to shake, loose rocks shifting between his feet. Behind him, the colossal Death Mountain rumbled, and all of Eldin shook in response. Yunobo turned to look and saw Divine Beast Vah Rudania perched precariously on the volcano's precipice. In the soles of his feet, he felt a shudder from deep within the earth, and a shower of lava came bursting forth from the mountain. Flaming rocks soared high above into the air, leaving bright red streaks against the sky, before crashing back down harmlessly into the volcano.

It was nothing; just Death Mountain saying hello. A real eruption hadn't occurred for thousands of years, or so the boss said, and if the mountain really were to blow, there'd be no Goron City left.

He looked up and saw that Rudania had not moved. It had not done so since the day of the attack on Hyrule Castle. Yunobo had seen it from an outpost near the Beast itself. Bludo had made it his job to monitor Vah Rudania - though Yunobo had no idea how to do that, or what to do if anything happened -

and he'd been halfway up his daily hike to visit the Beast when Rudania had unleashed an enormous, blistering ray of power right into Hyrule Castle. All the Beasts had; the camel in the South, the bird in the West, and the elephant in the East. And in that moment of immense power, all Yunobo could think was, imagine if they'd missed.

Afterwards, he'd asked the boss what they were going to do about Vah Rudania, and Bludo had roared with laughter, clapping Yunobo on the back. "Nothing, boy!" he cried. "The last time we bothered it, it almost sent half of Death Mountain raining down on us!" And Yunobo didn't question; the boss was right after all. With the aid of the Champion Link, they had managed to make the problem go away. Why do anything more?

Yunobo had never been much of a thinker. He could admit that. He liked to simply find the world beautiful, not wonder how it came to be, or what it could become. But Rudania – and the Champion - had made Yunobo think; shouldn't I be doing more? He was descended from Lord Daruk, wasn't he? The Goron Champion of old, who had fought bravely against Ganon? Wasn't I brave, when Link and I pushed Rudania into the mountain?

The sun was past the zenith. Yunobo only had an hour for a break, and he knew he was already pushing his luck by travelling so far from the mines. Turning his back on the lowlands, he tucked his limbs in close and rolled his way through the rocky hills and bubbling hot springs, back to the bustling Goron City.

Bludo's house was packed to the brim when he arrived; his brothers pressed in close around the boss as they laughed, and told stories of showmanship and strength. But the topic today, it seemed, was graver than normal.

"They shut down that new bridge entirely! Can you believe it Bludo? All of Gerudo completely cut off!" One of the travelling traders had pushed to the front of the crowd, his pack overstuffed with gems. Yunobo caught sight of a diamond, peeking out over the top of the bag.

"Of course I can believe it," Bludo said. "My Father told me only two things are certain in Hyrule: the rumble of the mountain and the pride of the Zora!"

Bludo's house erupted with a round of laughter, low guffaws that were almost an earthquake unto themselves. Yunobo pushed his way through the crowd.

"Zora's Domain shut as well," the trader went on. "My whole trip, wasted!"

"Aye, even the Hylians in Hateno were hesitant to trade," said another Goron, his pack as full as the first trader's. "What's the use, they said, when it sounds like there's another Calamity around the corner?"

"Well that's just nonsense," scoffed Bludo. "This is a petty squabble, nothing more."

"I don't know about that, Bludo," the first trader shrugged. "There was fighting, at the Gatepost Town Ruins. I saw it myself, boss. Gerudo travellers, and some Zora soldiers on the way to the Bridge. Both killed in the fight! Apparently, some Hylians tried to break them up, and they were killed as well!"

Bludo pounded his fist in an open palm. "Squabbles! Bickering among fools!"

"Isn't the Zora King dead?" Yunobo finally said, feeling as though the room had turned to look. "I mean, it sounds like war to me."

Bludo's face had darkened; the boss was evidently not fond of such grim conversation. "War or no, it doesn't affect us. We don't rely on trade, not the Gorons. We trade as a courtesy." Bludo leant back in his rocky chair. "We will wait this out. Let them butt heads, let them bruise, pick themselves up, and return as they were."

"You don't think we should do something?" Yunobo pressed. "This sounds serious, boss."

"What could we do, Yunobo? Tell them to stop!?" Bludo slammed his fist down against the arm of his chair. The other Gorons were laughing once again.

"But it just isn't right! To do nothing!"

Bludo shook his head. "Doing something isn't always better," He looked at the clock. "But anyway, break's over boys!"

Bludo signalled to a Goron at the edge of the room, and soon the rambunctious blare of a brass horn sounded through the city. The Gorons filed out of the house, rolling or walking back to their work. Yunobo began to follow, but Bludo caught him with a hand to his shoulder.

"Listen, Yunobo," he said with a smile, "If you want something to do, go check on Rudania again. Take Aji and Grido. They won't shut up about getting a closer look."

Begrudgingly, Yunobo led the brothers towards the Bridge of Eldin to climb the mountain. Once they passed the bridge, it became too steep to roll, and the rumbles that continued to come from the volcano made the hiking slow. But eventually, they reached the top, to where the Beast was huddled against the edge.

"Wouldja look at that, Aji?" grinned Grido. "I almost agree with wide-eyes over here, shame we aren't allowed to pilot it. Remember when it was walking around the mountain?"

Aji thumped his chest. "Aye, course. Raining rocks down on us from dawn to dusk!"

"How do you think we would pilot it?" Yunobo asked, gazing up at Rudania's conical face.

"Who knows, goro?" Grido shrugged.

"Nobody living," Aji added.

That isn't true, Yunobo thought, though he had no idea where Link was, or how to find him. In any case, the Champion was probably out doing what Yunobo could not; helping end this strange conflict in the lowlands. That's what heroes do, Yunobo concluded.

The trio of Gorons reached the peak and approached Rudania's front legs to make the climb into the Beast. But just as they reached the stone colossus, the glowing lights that covered its body suddenly flickered, and with a warbling groan, the Beast lowered its head and powered down.

Don't think. Just fall.

Warrior and Princess arced down from the waterfall edge like a pair of falling stars, wrapped in a desperate embrace, half-enveloped by a gleaming barrier of light.

Zelda had her right hand out in front of them; the Royal Crest shone, and from its brilliance she raised a curved shield, inwardly praying that it would hold when they landed. Beneath her, Teba was still unconscious, unable to help slow the descent.

The air streamed past her ears, the shock of the cold setting her skin alight. She had almost been winded when they crested over the lip of the waterfall, the air hitting her chest like a hammer. But she held Teba as tight as she could, and chose, for once, to believe that she had made the right choice.

When they hit the rocks, Zelda didn't feel a thing, except the shudder of the impact, and the flood of icy water against her skin as they bounced into the water. She was plunged deep beneath the surface and - for a suspended, terrifying moment - her vision went black. She flailed against the churn of the waters, reaching out helplessly to try and find Teba amongst the chaos.

As sudden as the fall itself, he was there before her - awake, eyes swimming with questions. In the absence of the ability to ask - where and how and why - he wrapped a wing around her and pulled her upwards. Zelda surrendered into his grip, her part in their survival complete. Together, they broke the surface of the lower lake of the Hebra Plunge. The cliffs were pressed in close, the water around them seemingly endless. Zelda gasped and swallowed water, assaulted by the relentlessness of it.

"Tulin!" Teba called to her, but Zelda shook her head.

"Too late," she managed between shallow breaths as she struggled to stay afloat. Her limbs screamed in protest, icy water driving deep into her skin. Zelda could barely see, barely breathe. The water was everywhere.

"We need to go back!" Teba insisted.

"No!" Zelda swam frantically, pulling Teba forwards. The shore in the distance seemed so small, so far away, and the lake so vast. He was resisting, treading water and looking back up the waterfall. "Teba!" she cried. Her lungs were empty, filling with water. With a last desperate breath, "Please. I can't."

At last her strength gave out, and she slipped beneath the water again, until Teba wrenched her back up.

"On my back!" he said as the water drained from her eyes. Without argument Zelda managed to wrap her arms around Teba's neck, flailing against the waves to slump against him. In long arcs Teba brought his wings across the surface, carrying them to the shore. Under her dead weight he seemed to struggle, and by the time he had deposited her onto the greyed sand, he was panting.

"The hell did you-huff-come after me for?" Teba demanded, pressing himself up onto his knees. He heaved through another round of pants. "If you can't-huff-swim?!"

Zelda lay on her back, head sinking in the sand. She felt it chafe against her neck. "I had to," she breathed. "You would have died."

"I was fine," Teba said. He stood from the shore and peered over his shoulder, across the mirror-like surface of the lake. "We need to go back."

Shaking, Zelda propped herself up onto her elbows. "Rocks, Teba," she rasped. "We hit the rocks!"

"We couldn't have," Teba shook his head. He was a motley mix of reds and blacks and browns, Zelda noticed, from the arrows and the debris and the burns. "If we hit the rocks we'd be dead."

"What do you think happened?" She was incensed, rattling like a leaf in the wind. When she spoke, she felt the blue of her lips.

"I don't know, I-"

"Do you think we just missed them, somehow?" Zelda went on, clambering weakly to her feet. She thrust her palm towards Teba, conjuring another curved light barrier. "Look!" She pressed harder, making him look at it. "I saved you. Saved us!"

Her hands were trembling, and soon her power gave out, the barrier shattering into mist. She fell to her knees, broken under the exhaustion, shivering ferociously at the cold that pervaded her soaked gear.

"Okay, okay, crap," Teba rushed forward to catch her, wrapping an injured wing around her and pulling her once more to her feet. "I'm sorry, Rowan, I'm sorry I just-" his voice broke, and he keened over, shuddering through a sudden, visceral sob. "This is all my fault. It's all me. Dammit, Rowan. My son…"

They sat huddled together on the shore, both broken and shivering. The water was lapping at Zelda's feet. Around them, the snow was still falling. A snowflake landed on her lips, sending a pique of pain blossoming on her cracked skin.

"Let's go, come on," she muttered through chattering teeth. She eyed the towering cliffs. "We need to find shelter."

Arm over wing, they stumbled together away from the lake, finding a small cave hollowed out into the rocks of the cliffs. By the time they made it out of the snow and into the shelter, Zelda was shaking uncontrollably, her limbs swollen and sore. The cold was burning - she supposed that was why she felt warm somehow; warm, and sleepy, and soft. Teba released his hold of her, and she curled up on the floor of the cave, huddling into herself.

"Shit… no, no..." Teba muttered, gripping her by the shoulders, attempting to unravel her from her cocoon. "Don't drift off."

Zelda fought to keep her eyes open. "The Slate…" she whispered. "L-Link always kept… f-firewood."

She closed her eyes, and Teba shook her again. "Where is it?" he pressed. He felt warm. He was holding her, his warm feathers against her. Zelda's eyelids fluttered open, and she saw blue.

Your dedication is quite impressive, Princess. And dedication deserves its own reward.

"I just wish I knew what to do," Zelda murmured, speaking to a long-lost voice. "You always seem so sure…"

"The Slate! C'mon, please," Teba pleaded. She wasn't hearing him. You will find a way, said the voice.

"Father says it's my destiny…"

The world shook. Her head was a storm, waves crashing against a stony shore. "I'm not losing you too," came a gruff voice from above. "It's Zelda, isn't it? Your real name? Stay with me, Zelda."

Well, I happen to believe in destiny, even when it deigns to work against me.

"I'm sorry, Revali," Zelda murmured. "You're still my friend."

"Zelda!"

She blinked. Teba was beside her. The dream dissipated.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she said, her teeth chattering. She reached to her belt and found the Slate hidden underneath the red Rito sash wrapped around her waist. "In the… in the inventory…" Zelda said, handing the Slate to Teba. "You'll find it..." She laid back on the cold ground.

"I believe in you," she whispered, fading into unconsciousness, and to whom she spoke she wasn't sure.

It was nighttime when Zelda woke, and she opened her eyes to a swath of orange-red light and the sensation of searing heat against skin. Her arms were bare. When she sat up, she found that her boots were gone and that the outer layer of her snowquill gear - the chest piece and the downy coat and pants - were drying on the floor by the fire next to her. Teba was sitting on the other side of the fire, cross-legged, squinting as he preened his feathers. She looked down and realised that all she wore were her cotton leggings and a still-damp bodice.

"You undressed me," she said weakly, almost accusing. A gust blew past the cave entrance, howling, and in the distance, the lake brightened under a flash of lightning.

Teba raised a brow. "You wanted me to let you freeze?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, reminding herself of where they were, and how close they had already come to death; the concern suddenly feeling petty.

She placed a hand on the snowquill gear. It was still wet, almost entirely soaked through. Her head throbbed. "How… how long?" she asked.

"Couple hours."

The Sheikah Slate was lying by her side, its purpose to Teba spent. She switched it on and looked through the inventory for some dry clothes. Her white shirt and royal blouse were still among the items; she hadn't worn them since before she and Link set off for Hyrule Castle. Zelda frowned at the fine clothes. Perhaps they would fit in size, but not in spirit.

So in the absence of anything else to wear, Zelda donned Link's Champion tunic and undershirt, finding her old black pants and leather travelling boots in the inventory. The tunic smelt of earth, and grass, of horsehair and sea salt. It smelt of the fields of Central Hyrule, of the rain of Akkala, the salts of Lanayru and the spices of Gerudo. She wrapped her arms around herself, and for a moment he was with her.

The familiarity brought comfort and loss in equal measure; the memories of her time with him reminding her that she had never stopped to appreciate any of it. Hyrule at their feet, alone in the world save each other; all relegated to memory, just like everything else.

"Now you look even more like him, Sparrow," Teba commented, and Zelda's eyes stung with tears. She wiped them away insolently, refusing to cry. She had been determined to weep no longer, determined to silence the sorrow within herself. Rowan had no need for tears, but then who was she kidding? Rowan never existed. Zelda would have to do.

"I hope he is having a better time than we are," she muttered, resting her head on her knees.

A grunt came from across the fire, and Zelda looked up to see Teba gripping the arrow still embedded in his wing. She realised only then how badly injured he truly was. The feathers on his left side were either singed or missing entirely, burnt away by the bomb arrow that had exploded at his feet. Dotted across his wings were spots of blood, and there was gash across his right shoulder. In his left was the broken arrow, though he had snapped off the sharp tip. Teba breathed hard to steel himself, and, pinching the skin around where the arrow had pierced him, he pulled the shaft from his wing, beak clenched tight to stifle his groan.

"Do you need any help?" Zelda asked. "There might be something in the Slate."

"It's fine. Superficial. The arrow hit cartilage. Hurts, yeah, but won't leave a mark."

But still Teba hissed as he gingerly tested his wing, and Zelda crawled around the fire to his side, taking the Sheikah Slate with her. "I've got bandages," she said, motioning to the deep cut on his shoulder. "You can't let that get infected."

Teba shifted his right side towards her and nodded for her to begin. Materialising a roll of bandages from the Slate, Zelda set to work.

"I should apologise," Teba said, looking into the fire. "I… I made a mistake, and I made you go along with it. We're here because of me. I know what you must think."

Zelda nodded, feeling a smile tease the corners of her lips. "I happen to think you're a fool." She pressed a layer of gauze over the cut and expected Teba to flinch. He did not move. "But I think we're all foolish around the people we care about, Teba."

And I know you still care about Yahn.

"You speaking from experience?" Teba asked, clearly deflecting.

"I am," Zelda admitted.

"Link?"

"Who else?" she said with a laugh, though her eyes stung. His name still hurt. She began to wrap the bandages around Teba's shoulder. "We were both fools. And looking back… I don't know what kept us together. All we did was argue."

"That's normal, trust me," Teba said, the implication clear; I'm married.

"Really? You don't think people should get along?"

"It's not about 'getting along'," Teba said. He winced, but then sat up straighter, and Zelda knew what it meant. Storytime. "Listen," he said, and Zelda listened. "When I began to court Saki, I was the best warrior in the village. No one had a better eye than me. No one was faster than I was. But once she accepted I… I dunno - I slacked off. I had a girl, and the showmanship, it felt unnecessary. I still trained but I didn't improve. She soured, she was always on my case - you should do this, why don't you help Kaneli with that, you should work on your spearmanship, I'm worried you could be injured in a hunt. When we argued about it, I thought it meant we weren't right. But you know what she told me? I fight with you because I know you, and I know the best you, and I want that Teba to be my husband. That was how it happened, actually. I didn't propose," he chuckled sadly. "Saki demanded the best of me, and the best version of me was married to her."

"I fight with you because I know you…" Zelda repeated, looking out to the waters beyond the cave. Because I love you.

It was as simple as that, and she was stunned by how natural it felt. How normal. And as quick as the revelation had come, it had passed. Shock subsiding into acceptance; a truth long known. Zelda looked down and realised she had stopped working the bandages and was holding them limply between her fingers. They began to shake, but not from the cold.

"She challenged me," Teba went on. "Had things not… gone wrong with Yahn, those years ago. Had I not… stopped caring…"

Zelda finished with the bandages, securing them as tightly as she could. The tears were rolling down her cheeks and she no longer cared. She shook with rage; at the world, and at herself.

"Then fix things, Teba," she said coldly.

"Oh, simple as that," he retorted. "Tulin is either dead or hates me, and Saki will never forgive me either way."

"Will you listen to yourself!?" she snapped. Teba recoiled away from her, affronted, but Zelda did not let up. "Of course Tulin is struggling. You don't believe in yourself."

"Zelda," Teba chided, frowning. "Don't-"

"You said Saki demands the best of you; well, I do too!" She was livid then. How dare he wield her own name against her! "And I know that might not matter, you don't have to pretend we're friends-"

"Listen, that isn't fair-"

"But you push people away because you think it will make you strong. You tell them you don't love them because the alternative is that they may not love you. And then you regret it and look like a complete fool-"

"I think you're projecting now-"

"So what if I am?" she cried, her voice booming through the cave. "I'm not the one afraid to rescue my own son!"

"Alright, enough!" Teba barked. "Damnit, I am not that heartless. Of course we're going to get Tulin."

"Good!" Zelda nodded. And then, tight-lipped, her hands clasped together. "Good. That's what… ahem… that was what I was expecting."

"Good," Teba said wryly, amused by the outburst. "And listen, you've saved my life twice now, Sparrow. I'm not pretending we're friends," he placed a wing on her shoulder, adding, "but don't tell Kass, alright, we have a bet on it."

Zelda grinned. You big fool. She leant back, resting on her hands, feeling the cold stone of the cave.

"Well, now that we're friends," she said, "you're going to tell me what happened with Yahn."

Teba shifted, receding from her, but Zelda placed a hand on his wing, and he relented, his back straightening once more. "It isn't a nice story," Teba warned.

"I have room for one more tragedy," Zelda said.

"You sound like Kass," he snickered, and then sighed. "But… alright."

Teba began the tale as Zelda materialised another log of firewood from the Slate, throwing it into the fire.

"I was young. Like I said, the best warrior in the village. Saki encouraged me to take on an apprentice. I wasn't sure, but she seemed to think it was a good idea. Yahn's father Yinli was a family friend. And Yahn was… how do I put this… an under-achiever. Yinli thought that since I was the best, I would be the best choice."

"Yinli…" Zelda murmured. The name seemed familiar. She sifted through the catalogue of names and faces she had encountered. Larella, Nell, Paya, Leena… where did this name fit?

Teba continued, eyes fixed on the gradually rising flames. "Yahn was only a teenager, but he was a good enough student. He learned quickly. We had him wielding a mechanical Falcon within a year, and he always said he'd soon good enough for his father's bow. Yinli was happy. Yahn was happy. I married Saki. Tulin was born. It was a good time."

But times always change, and time always changes, Zelda thought, anticipating the rest.

Teba's voice softened, and his hardened face sunk. "Maybe I didn't push him hard enough. Maybe I made too many excuses. He started slowing down, slacking off, and I told myself that maybe tomorrow he'd be better." He began to ball his wingtips into fists. "I avoided Yinli. I dreaded lessons. I tried to solve the problem by ignoring it. When I realised that he was just bored, it was too late. And he just… quit. He left. Said he was no longer interested, and that he was going to travel for a while and come back when he was ready. And… I let him go. I wished him well."

When he was done, Teba looked down at his fists and, slumping forward, he crossed his wings at his chest.

Zelda spoke as gently as she could. "How long ago did this happen?"

"Just under ten years."

"Teba…" Zelda sighed. "You've held onto it this long?"

"Well, it's like you said," Teba shrugged, his drawn face lifting into a weak smile when he looked at her. "We're fools for the people we care about."

"And did you see him after that?"

"A few times. Each time worse. He'd grown spiteful. Crass. Acted like we'd never met like I was nothing to him. Beneath him. The last time I saw him, he said leaving the village was the best thing he'd ever done. He told me he pitied me, and when he left, just like each time he left, I wished him well."

"He was cruel to you," Zelda assured him.

"Maybe. But what happened was my fault," Teba began to collect himself, resuming the facade of the unfeeling warrior. But Zelda saw the cracks and the sorrow that infiltrated the wall he had built around himself. Teba went on, "And even then, part of me blamed Saki. She told me to take on an apprentice, after all. And things changed between us. I thought with Tulin; I might have a second chance. I resolved to work harder. To not fail my son the way I failed Yahn. And… well…"

"You haven't yet failed your son. You know that, don't you?" Zelda told him. She felt the sorrow catch, the ache in her chest where she shared in Teba's pain, and in a small voice, she said, "Tulin loves you. He risked his life just to be with you."

Teba sighed. "Too many people throwing themselves at death for me," he said. He lifted his wings, testing them again, wincing at the pain, but conquering it. "Time to repay the favour."

The hungry flames within his lamp ate the paper, devouring the letters and symbols, turning them into black ash that Link rubbed into the floor of his bedchamber with the toe of his boot.

Now there was no Sheikah Code but the one he held in his mind; the one Robbie had taught him. He sat down at his desk and peered through the tiny window towards West Hyrule. By the dim candlelight he could just make out the concentric swirls, and arcing lines etched in Divine Beast Vah Medoh. He looked and told himself to feel nothing. The sky was beginning to brighten. Inglis would be there to fetch him soon.

They'd served him honey with his porridge for breakfast that morning, and he'd failed to remain unaffected. Forget her, he demanded of himself. But the smell of it was a punch to the gut, and a warm embrace, and a lance through the heart all at once; he could practically hear her laughter and see her red cheeks, her fingers dug into the hexagonal cells of the beehive as the honey and apples boiled in the pot. Goddess, Link, what a mess we've made.

"One giant mess," Link whispered to the girl in the memory. "That's all it is."

Taking a pen in hand, he made a new list of symbols. Those which he had already 'decoded'. His name, Inglis' name, Aurelia's name, the symbols for yes, no, stop, danger, TB-DOWN, amongst other things; the curved Hylian alphabet with its Sheikah Code counterpart. Just enough to show some progress. Not enough to be what Cinelgen needed.

And then, flipping through the pages, he found his page of questions. Is it alive? Does it have a name? Crossed out, with Rhoamet written beside it. Can it speak? Can it think?

What would she think of all this? That was crossed out too. No time for memories. Not anymore.

And then below, fingers tracing the writing, he read the next set of questions,

Who were they before they came here? What do they owe each other?

The Akkalan boy, the Yiga woman, and the Gerudo man; his captors, and the leaders of the bandits. The Trio. Inseparable. But were they? Difficult to know. Link had begun collecting the answers in tidbits during their dinner conversations but wrote none of it down. The details came in snippets, in slips of the tongue. Cinna and Mila became bladed Yiga in the same year; Inglis is from Akkala. Cinna taught Inglis to fight. Mila held some position of power among the Yiga. Cinna is fond of cinnamon because it's best when you don't notice it, but overpowering when too much is added.

"You can see he takes his namesake a little too seriously," Mila had quipped to Link, lips pressed thin, a fondness amongst her disapproval.

Beneath the questions, Link wrote a single conclusion: Maybe they're not as complex as they seem.

There was a rap on his door - finally - and instinctively, Link snapped the notebook shut. The sun was well and truly up by the time Inglis arrived, and he had a strange colour to his face, his neat brown hair a little askew.

Link grinned at him, eyebrows raised. His smile said: I know why you're late.

"We going or what?" Inglis said sternly.

"Lead the way," Link smirked.

The questions played on his mind. Who were you? A few months ago, Cinelgen's bandits had seemed like an irrepressible force. But he'd seen them, all of them. He'd seen them slobber over their food at dinner and down wine in barrels. They were just people. Even the Yiga in their angry reds, their eyes hungry as they watched Link pass. Just people; just idiots like him, trying their best to survive.

So who was Inglis?

"You and Mila have fun this morning?" Link goaded as they walked through the carpeted hallways of the Royal Apartments. Inglis was on him in a second, quick as ever, strong-arming Link up against the fading wallpaper that smelt of ruin and sawdust. It was as simple as a jab to the ribs and a sharp shove to push Inglis off of him.

He frowned as he watched Inglis clamber to his feet, the concern genuine. "You need to calm down, Inglis," he said. "Isn't Cinna your friend?"

"At least I have friends," Inglis shot back, dusting himself off, readjusting his already dishevelled tunic. Must have really gone for it, Link thought.

Inglis wrapped a tight hand around Link's arm, and began ushering him back down the hallway; he had lost the privilege of walking without binds.

"I had friends, actually," Link muttered as they walked out into the Eastern Passage. "You put them in the Lockup."

"Is that why you haven't decided to escape yet?" Inglis teased. "Afraid of what we'll do to them?"

"No," Link answered. Not that you would do anything to them, Inglis.

"Then why not?"

Link shrugged and spoke like the words meant nothing. "Hyrule is a mess. The Princess is dead. Maybe it's alright here." He wiggled out of Inglis' grip. "When you're not jumping me."

Inglis regarded him with muted scepticism, but Link returned the gaze with an empty smile. The Hylian puffed out his cheeks and shook his head. "No wonder Cinna likes you," he resigned as they neared the Gatehouse. "You're just as crazy as he is."

Link chewed his lip, peering up at the Castle. He thought of the automaton waiting for him. He thought of the simmering civil tensions in the lands beyond. He thought of the Princess out there, somewhere, dealing with his decision to send her away. And he thought of the plan in his head.

Maybe I am.

Rhoamet greeted him with a a single raised leg and a now familiar pattern; ●●●●, ●▬●●

Hello Link

"Hey buddy," Link replied. "Diagnostic? Beam still broken?"

▬ ● ▬ ▬; Yes

Link did a quick scan of the room. Aurelia was sat cross-legged against the Gatehouse wall, inspecting the finish of the curved blade of her halberd. She had started to wear her blonde hair long, and it shone in the morning light. Inglis stood at Link's side, leaning slightly against his halberd, the weapon no longer needed. Once Rhoamet had gotten used to them, it seemed to pose no threat whatsoever.

He wasn't designed to attack people, Link had written in his notebook. Just monsters.

Link squinted up at the parapets, expecting to see the looming gaze of his Gerudo captor. He saw nothing and no one.

"No Cinna today?" he asked Inglis. Inglis' face was drawn, his lips pressed thin, wide jaw clenched.

"I can't say," he said. Link sighed and turned his attention back to Rhoamet, but inside he was smiling. Something's happening.

The Guardian was waiting, sitting before them with its legs huddled close to its body, single beady eye watching passively. It caught him looking and stood, ready to begin.

Link thumbed through his notebook until he arrived at the page he needed, and the questions he had been asking himself for a few days now.

Looking up at Rhoamet, he said, "When were you built?" and he focused as the Guardian answered.

Before, it said.

Link furrowed his brows, scribbling in his notebook. "Before?"

Today.

"Before… today?"

Yes.

"You think it has a sense of time?" Aurelia called from where she sat. "They say dogs don't, but cats do. It's why they're so mean."

"Are you a cat person then, Aurelia?" Inglis shot back. She scoffed and muttered, I might be.

Link ignored them. "Do you remember the Calamity?" he asked the Guardian. "The burning fields? The Beast in the Castle?"

Rhoamet began to blink; three letters that it had often been using in recent days as Link's questions became more complex. I. D. U.

I don't understand.

"Do you remember anything?" Link pressed. "What you were for?"

I don't understand.

"See!" Aurelia clapped. She stood, and walked to Link's side. "No sense of time. Why would he? He's a laser with legs."

Link sighed. A dead end. In the sparse visits he had been able to make to Robbie, the Sheikah had explained that in all his research, he had never been able to figure out how the Guardians were used in combat. Only that they came in different shapes and sizes, and that certain Guardians had delineated functions. The rest of his knowledge? Conjecture. Theories. Based on ancient husks and the frantic observations of hostile Guardians. Link looked up to the roof of the Gatehouse, to the boards that had been haphazardly nailed to the windows to keep Rhoamet contained; light was streaming through the cracks. He could not go to Robbie now.

He tucked his notebook into his hooded vest and took a deep breath. There was no easy way to ask.

"Rhoamet, I need to find a way to remove your head cap. See what's going on with this beam."

The Guardian did not move. Its body radiated a cool blue, and it sat down.

▬ ▬ ▬, ▬●▬ ; Okay

"Do you know how?"

No.

Do you trust me, Rhoamet? Link wanted to ask but knew that likely the automaton wouldn't understand. Trust was elusive. Trust was a drop of water running free. It was only there in the moment. And maybe Aurelia was right. Without a sense of time, how could it trust anything?

"Hold still," Link instructed, and he stepped forward towards the Guardian. He climbed up onto its shell, using the ornamental swirls for grip. The automaton reeled backwards, its mechanical head jolting towards him, its shell flashing from blue to orange and finally to pink.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Inglis cried out, his shouts echoed by an equally concerned Aurelia. "What are you doing!?"

"Fixing him," Link called back. Both of his guards had their halberds pointed forwards, stepping across the dirt floor as Rhoamet scrambled backwards. Link held tight, gripping one of the three ear-like handles to pull himself up.

Situating himself on top of the head cap, he knelt down and patted the side of the automaton's head.

"It's okay, it's just me," he said as he fought to maintain his footing. Rhoamet's head spun around from side to side, and he walked in backwards circles, trying helplessly and pointless to evade Link. But eventually, as Inglis and Aurelia waited with their halberds ready, the Guardian calmed. Link patted the side of his head again, all good.

"Is he saying anything?" he called down to the two Hylian guards.

"No, at least I don't think so," Aurelia called back. "He's gone blue. I think you're all good."

Link nodded, satisfied that it was safe to begin. "Tell me if he starts talking."

Careful not to move too quickly, he wrapped his hands around one of the ear-like handles atop Rhoamet's head cap, testing its weight and feeling for any movement. It was as big as him, the curved hook on the back of the handle rising almost a foot out from the domed head. He felt a rattle - a shift - something moving under the force of his hands, and he began to push the component out and away from the cap, leaning all of his body weight into the effort. His boots scraped against the ancient stone beneath him as he heaved against the enormous handle until with a shuddering click, it unlatched from the head cap. Rotating on a hidden hinge, the handle rolled away from Link and thudded against the side of the domed head. Link hung down over the edge of the head cap, peering down at the Rhoamet's cyclops eye.

"You okay?"

Yes, the Guardian answered.

Time to do the others then, Link affirmed, and one by one, he unlatched the other two handles until all three hung down the side of the headcap.

"Okay, we don't know what's under here," Link muttered down to Rhoamet. "Can you power yourself down, buddy?" He climbed around to the Guardian's front to see the response.

Yes.

"Simple enough," Link chuckled, and watched as Rhoamet's lights went faint. He motioned to Inglis and Aurelia, who were watching with gaping mouths and angled halberds. "C'mon," he told them. "This thing will be heavy."

The head cap was immense, taller than all three of them. But it was surprisingly easy to lift, the ancient material deceptively light. With a coordinated heave, they raised the head cap up and over Rhoamet's internal structure, gingerly - and awkwardly - lowering it to the ground.

And within, gleaming in the faint light that trickled in through the boarded windows, at the centre of a clockwork of gears, springs, and shafts - was a diamond. Gargantuan, and shining, and shattered into half a dozen pieces.

They travelled at night, preferring flight over footsteps through the snow. It had taken two days for Teba to regain enough strength to fly, and when he finally announced he was ready to have his retribution, he surprised Zelda by offering to fly them both to the Eastern bokoblin camp.

"I thought the Rito were too proud to be made mounts?" Zelda teased, though she was secretly happy not to have to climb up the ravine.

"It isn't our fault the rest of Hyrule wasn't smart enough to grow wings," Teba grumbled.

Shielded by the blanketed dark, and the ever fall of the snows, Zelda and Teba staked out the Rito camp. The skull-shaped bokoblin cave was glowing under a faint campfire, and silhouetted against the light Zelda could see the jagged points of the sharpened-trunk fence that encircled the camp. From her survey with the Sheikah scope, she found that the Rito party now consisted of Yahn, Rylen, Orli, the remaining Hylian bandit, and the slim, grey-feathered Rito who had kidnapped Tulin. Two against five. Uncomfortable odds.

"Any ideas?" she asked Teba. He hummed, deep in thought, his wings crossed at his chest. Uncomfortable odds indeed, if he was stumped.

Zelda took stock, trying to put herself in a strategist's shoes. Assessing the situation, weighing their options; an emulation of a knight she had once known. Teba's wounds had begun to heal, scabs forming and dead feathers shedding. But he was still injured. And Zelda could fight. She flexed her right hand, calling forth the Royal Symbol, focusing on the weight of the bow at her back. She had fought, many times now. But she was no hero.

These people work for Cinelgen. They have kidnapped an innocent child.

This was no place for heroes, she decided. Not here. Not anywhere. Not anymore.

"We take no chances," Teba said finally. Zelda recognised the look on his face. All Knights looked the same. "They have my son."

"Of course."

"We need to be quick," Teba went on. "So quick they don't see us coming. Create a distraction. Grab Tulin. Get the hell out."

She spoke quietly, now aware of the sensitivity of the question. "And what about Yahn?"

"What about him?"

"What are you going to do when you see him?"

Teba shrugged and reached up to his injured shoulder to adjust his bandages. "Depends," he said calmly. "Could be I do nothing. Could be I kill him."

"Wait - really? He was your apprentice."

"He has my son, Zelda. Nothing else matters. I would burn that camp to the ground to save him." Teba's eyes narrowed, appraising the camp with a simmering rage. "And maybe I will."

Zelda looked at the line of sharpened trunks and felt her anger stew within her. The Rito were no longer just Cingelgen's bandits. They were the Gerudo in name and spirit. They had caused chaos untold. They had torn her kingdom to pieces. They had taken her best friend from her. Teba's words were a guidance, and instruction; save those you love, and destroy the rest.

She unhooked the Sheikah Slate from her belt, an idea forming in her head. "I can help with that."

Teba and Zelda advanced on the camp in bursts, bolting from tree to tree, closing the distance with nothing but the stars as their witness. Finally, they could go no further, the trees ending at a patch of bare land surrounding the camp.

Trust Link to keep more fire arrows in his inventory than regular ones, Zelda thought as she pulled a trio of magic-enhanced arrows from the Sheikah Slate, their angular tips radiating a soft crimson. Teba watched her from behind a nearby tree as she unshouldered her white-gold bow.

"Remember, Sparrow," Teba whispered harshly. "Nothing teaches aim like the fear of missing."

"I'm not going to miss," she shot back.

"That's Revali talking. Ignore him."

Zelda took a deep breath. She hummed the song as she focused, nocked the arrow, and loosed it at the camp bounds. It landed in between a pair of sharpened trunks, and so she drew the second, loosing it towards the other side of the camp, and finally the third, towards the section of the camp bounds directly in front of their hiding spot in the trees.

Within moments the encirclement of tree trunks was afire, three bursting flames illuminating the dark camp and sending billows of black smoke out into the night air.

Shouts erupted from with the camp; Zelda knew that it was their cue. Leaping out from behind the trees, Teba and Zelda met halfway to take flight together, ascending high above the camp.

Beneath them, the bandits were scrambling to the flames, frantically throwing snow against the tree trunks. Wasting no time, Teba and Zelda landed atop the skull-shaped cave and went completely unnoticed in the chaos.

"Take no chances!" Teba shouted to her, and they descended into the cave through the eyehole windows that had been carved into its side.

She landed hard, the suddenness of the ground beneath her feet sending a shockwave of pain arching up her legs. But she kept to their plan, and raising her right hand towards the cave entrance, she held a golden barrier across its mouth.

"Surprise, asshole," Teba growled, and Zelda turned to see him advancing on Yahn, who was crouched by a small fire in the cave. Behind him, huddled up against the wall with his wings bound was an elated Tulin, and Zelda noted with an overwhelming sense of relief that he was not harmed.

Yahn vaulted backwards, wrapping his uninjured wing around Tulin's throat. In his other, which was bandaged with mottled-looking rags, he held a thin knife to the fledgeling's throat. Teba froze. Zelda had to remind herself to breathe, and in the tense silence, she noticed the ubiquitous blue and white piece of fabric that she had seen too many times now, tied around Yahn's injured wing.

"I just want my son," he raised his wings to his head.

"Oh, I know. But I want something else of yours." He nodded to Zelda. "His life for hers."

"Teba..." Zelda cautioned. The other bandits of the camp were desperately trying to push through Zelda's barrier. She felt each blow they brought down across it, but held firm.

"Do they know?" Teba asked, motioning towards the Rito beyond the cave. "Rylen? Orli? They're just normal kids. Do they know who they work for?"

"They work for me."

"But they work for him, don't they? The Gerudo." Teba countered. "Do they know?"

Yahn bristled, and wrapped his wing tighter around Tulin's neck. "They know only what they need to; that they are helping our people in ways that you, or that Princess there never could."

"Helping how?" Zelda demanded.

"Wait - neither of you knows? I was told you'd been to the Castle," Yahn said, beginning to laugh. "You kill my father and come here acting coy?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zelda insisted.

Teba gave a start. "Yinli's dead?"

"Killed by this one, so I was told!" Yahn pointed an accusing finger towards Zelda. "But I won't say who by. Though I don't know why she kept you in the dark. She wanted so desperately to believe what she was doing was right, I suppose."

Teba bowed his head. Saki. It was clear who Yahn spoke of. The Warrior looked up at his former apprentice, and in a small, resigned voice he said, "Just let me take my son, Yahn."

"No!" Yahn roared. "I was sent back to this horrible place, wasting my days away in that stupid Beast and now the damn thing might kill me! I will take that girl!"

The Beast? Zelda looked at Yahn's injured wing. Had he been injured inside Vah Medoh? Could he be hurt… the same way Sidon had been?

"You've been working on Vah Medoh," she said slowly. "All this time."

"You think we camp out here for fun?" Yahn hissed. Zelda turned back to Teba, her hand trembling. She chided her own stupidity. Of course, of course! What else would Cinelgen want?

"Teba, just go," she said. "Take your son and go."

"No." Teba snapped. He looked back to Yahn. "You'll take nothing more from me."

Yahn growled and suddenly tossed the knife towards Zelda. She ducked, yelping as she dropped to the ground, and in an instant, her barrier fell. The bandits burst into the cave. In front of her, Teba bolted forward towards Tulin. And above it all, Zelda heard Yahn shout, "Kill her!"

Not a moment later, she felt the world flip. There was a clawing sensation across her legs, and the night air rushed past her ears as her hair fell across her face. The rush of blood to her head sent a blinding flash of red across her vision, and when she regained her focus, the cave was dwindling beneath her; above the grey feather had his talons wrapped tight around her legs and was carrying her higher and higher into the air.

Zelda looked down and stifled her scream with a gloved hand. One way to do it, she thought, the Rito's plan dawning on her. A cruel death, for one not smart enough to grow wings.

But she did not need them. Not since the fall from Hebra plunge. Zelda reached for her bow, but when she padded her quiver, she found it empty, the arrows having spilt out during the ascent. She looked at her right hand; the Royal Crest still shone. Perhaps now, she had no need for arrows either.

Because Link's crossbow - despite its novelty - was an otherwise ordinary weapon. And her Sparrow bow was nothing more than a training weapon. The power was in the wielder, not the weapon.

Zelda aimed the bow at the Rito above her, her head spinning as the ground drew further and further away. Below, she caught a glimpse of a duo in green and blue; Rylen, and Orli, seemingly fleeing the camp. Re-centering on the Rito above, she pulled back the string, focusing her power into her hand, and humming the song that she had been taught. In a flash of light, a golden arrow materialised in her hand.

"Do that and you'll die anyway," the grey feather bellowed down at her. He had a neckerchief about his neck, Zelda noticed then. One of Cinelgen's.

"Then I'll be taking you with me," and she loosed the light-arrow into his neck.

The look on the grey feather's face seemed to be one of both shock and offence, but Zelda had no time to ponder. The ground was racing up to meet her, the blazing circle of sharpened trunks growing in size with each moment. Zelda braced, held out her right hand, and raised an enclosing barrier around herself.

She landed with speed, tumbling across the ground, the dirt and snow in her eyes and hair and mouth. But she was unharmed, while the grey feather lay in a broken heap at her side. She looked the towards the cave where Yahn, and Teba, and most importantly Tulin remained, only to see Teba thrown back from the entrance with force.

"Even half-dead, I'm stronger than you," Yahn bellowed as he advanced on Teba. He held his former teacher's Falcon bow, and spun an arrow between his wingtips. "I always was. And you never let that go!"

The remaining Hylian bandit was slumped inner wall of the cave, Zelda noticed, Yahn's knife embedded firmly in his chest. Teba's doing, she thought as she bolted forward.

"Uh-uh!" Yahn shouted, quickly aiming an arrow at Teba. "No further!"

Zelda could not move. She would not be able to raise her hand in time to protect him.

"You think that's why you were failing, Yahn!?" Teba said, propping himself up. "Is that what Cinelgen told you? That I forced you to leave!"

"What do you care?" Yahn sneered. He advanced, but before he took more than a step, Tulin leapt onto his shoulders, digging his wingtips into the Rito's eyes. Teba rolled, dodging Yahn's sloppily fired arrow, and pulled himself to his feet, jolting forward to punch the Rito bandit in the stomach. He gasped in shock and lurched backwards, Teba's falcon bow flying from his grip while Tulin sprang free, landing deftly in the snow.

Teba forgot his vendetta against Yahn then; forgot about the Rito entirely. He fell to his knees and wrapped Tulin in his wings. Yahn took one last look at Zelda, who had drawn her own bow in his direction, and with a scowl, he took flight to flee northwards.

Once it was over, Zelda took a moment to assess. Two dead bandits; the grey feather, and the Hylian. Three had fled. And all around her, the camp burned. Her eyes were hazy from the smoke.

Teba was weeping, holding Tulin close, and Zelda saw that the young Rito was crying too.

"I'm sorry, Father," he said. "I should have gone home. I didn't want you to fight."

"It's okay, it's okay," Teba said, wrapping his wings tighter around his son. "Neither did I, brave one. Neither did I."

Zelda went to her knees beside them and gently placed a hand on Tulin's shoulder.

"See?" she said gently. "You were brave."

Tulin just nodded, and tucked his head in close to his father's chest.

Zelda tried to savour the moment, but she could not shake Yahn's admission from her mind. Cinelgen wanted control of Vah Medoh, just as he had tried to seize Vah Ruta.

Exhaustion overcame her, and she slumped to the snowed ground, her hand going instinctively to the Sheikah Slate.

"Teba," she said softly. "It's time we went home. To Lake Totori."

The Rito warrior raised his head, his eyes glistening with tears. "Of course."

With a sigh, Zelda added, "We have much work left to do."

The component that housed the crystal half as large as Link, and so cumbersome to carry that Link and Inglis had to take an end each. Aurelia explained that she would have offered to help, but that she didn't want to risk damaging the delicate piece of ancient machinery.

"More like you can't be bothered," Inglis goaded, but the blonde-haired Hylian just rolled her eyes, and disappeared back to the barracks without a word.

The weight and size of it meant that they had to take a new route back to Link's bedchamber, but Link decided then that there was a better place to bring it.

"Where is Cinna now?" he asked Inglis as they shuffled along the path towards the Castle.

"Throne room," Inglis answered through strained breath. He stopped, and lowered his end of the component to the ground, raising a hand to signal for a break. "Supplicants," he explained as he regained his strength. "All that. It bores him."

Link rolled his shoulders, and shook his hands to ease the soreness from their effort. "Then let's cheer him," he said, wrapping his hands around the component once more. Inglis' concern palpable, but he nodded, and for the first time since they had met, he let Link lead.

Cinelgen's throne room was, as usual, unimproved in appearance. But his numbers had grown - it seemed that more and more Yiga were recalled to the Castle by the day. Is he paranoid, or just savvy enough to bring them in lest people figure out that they work for him?

He and Inglis waited towards the edge of the room, and scanning the faces, Link recognised some that he had tussled with in the past. A prison guard that had kept watch over him during his internment; one of Cinelgen's personal guards, a long-faced Gerudo woman named Leena; the freckled-finned Zora that he and Zelda had encountered in the Hyrule Castle Library; and the young boy who they had captured in the same fight. The little Hylian met Link's eyes and scowled, and vaguely, Link recalled fighting the drunkard woman who had accompanied the boy. From the searing hate in the boy's eyes, Link suddenly realised; was she your mother? The thought nibbled at him, at the edge of his consciousness, between his sense of duty to protect, and his detest for Cinna's people.

He asked himself then; Were we wrong?

Cinelgen sat limply against the velvet throne, with Milagre at his side. She had forgone her usual navy Yiga suit, and now wore a white tunic with blue trimming, and pair of soft green pants. Framed by the sun that streamed into the throne room, there was no questioning it; she was almost regal. Like a Queen. And not just any, but Cinna's Queen. Link looked at Inglis, who was gazing up at her with an almost stunned reverence, and he felt a pang of pity for the young Hylian. The question came back to him, this time echoing with sorrow; What if they're not as complex as they seem?

A group of Yiga in their full garb stood before the balcony. Four, all almost equal in height, with curved sickles at their belts. The one to the far left spoke.

"You must understand our concern, Chief," he said. "So many sudden changes. A change in leadership. A change in regime. And then…"

Cinelgen leant forward in his chair, his messy red hair falling across his face, casting it in shadow. "And then…?" he repeated.

The Yiga fidgeted. Beneath their feet, the wooden planks that covered the breach in the floor were stained with ageing blood. "Well, we do now know, Chief," one of the other Yiga said, this one speaking with a woman's voice. "You haven't… you haven't told us anything! And you expect us to follow!"

"I tell you what you need to know," Cinelgen said firmly. "That you are not important enough to be kept in the loop does not mean we do not have plans!"

The first Yiga spoke again, stepping forward. "Us? Not important! We are your regime!"

There was a shift in the court attendees, and Link saw Aurelia with her golden hair step into the room, a sly smile on her face.

"You belong to a dead order!" Cinelgen bellowed. "I rescued you from your idiot Elders, and you question me like this!"

"You killed them!" shouted the female Yiga, and the room bristled with whispers. Link watched, and waited, wondering who would move first. But it was Milagre who stepped forward.

"Brothers, sisters," she addressed them calmly, her hands raised. "Such harsh words do us no good."

The female Yiga drew back, bowing her head. Milagre continued, "Patience is a virtue in which we Yiga are well versed. And already reports are positive. The Gerudo and Zora are locked in conflict. We just need to wait for the right moment, and then we can make our move."

"But how will you know, Lady Secretary?" the first Yiga asked. Milagre smiled, sweeter and more sincere than Link had ever seen from her.

"I trust our Chief," she said, motioning to Cinelgen. "And I trust his judgement."

The four Yiga whispered amongst themselves until finally, the first Yiga spoke. "Very well, and our apologies," he said, and on cue, the four bowed.

Cinelgen just grinned, leaning back in his chair as though the victory were his own, and Link suddenly understood. Milagre might stand at his side. She might be silent at dinner. She might be a shadow against the brightness that danced with him, but she controlled Cinelgen's army, and from that Link saw; she controlled him. What do they owe each other? He asked himself again and now knew that he had more of the answer.

"Ah, Link, Inglis!" came Cinelgen's booming voice from above. "Well now, what do we have here?"

"A development," Link answered, and the Throne Room was beset by another wave of whispers.

Cinelgen stood, a hungry grin on his face. "To my study," he ordered. "I've had enough of this court."

Link and Inglis placed the housing component down in front of Cinelgen's desk. The Gerudo had taken up office in Rhoam's old office, he noted with some resentment.

"It used to house a diamond, but at some point, the diamond faltered," Link explained as Cinelgen inspected the cylindrical component. "Guardians aren't meant to be active for as long as he was. It deteriorated. Broke. We can fit him with a new one."

"I'll send this to my suppliers," Cinelgen said, leaning down to get a closer look.

Link swallowed, focusing on calming his nerves. "No," he said calmly. "The gem would need to be specially cut for the component. I would… I would prefer to be there."

Cinelgen looked up at him, brows furrowed. "Be where?"

Inglis and Milagre were waiting by the door. He shot them a cursory glance, and cleared his throat. The Zora had apparently closed entrance to their city, and the Gerudo were cut off by the siege on their bridge. There was only one option. "Death Mountain."

"No."

"Listen-"

"No, you listen." Cinelgen stood, raising a pacifying hand to Link. "You have been good to us, but I cannot take that risk."

Link was determined not to lose his focus. The plan had been thought up quickly, with no time to vet, but also no time to doubt. He stood up straighter. "The diamond can't just be a diamond. It has to focus power."

Cinelgen walked back to the desk, leaning against the time-worn wood with his arms at his chest. "I will bring the Gorons here."

Link shook his head, aware of Cinelgen's growing annoyance. "They won't come. You have no Goron allies. But I do."

Cinelgen tapped the desk, drumming his fingers. And then, his face brightening, he slapped it. "Alright, sure!" he beamed. "I'm bored here anyway. We'll take Inglis and Aurelia, and my guards." Cinelgen stepped forward to place his hands on Link's shoulders. "Ah! I'm excited now! A journey to Eldin! I haven't been there in years!"

Link breathed a deep sigh of relief, and smiled weakly when Cinelgen clapped him on the back. But he could not deny, despite the fear at travelling with his captor, the bead of excitement that he felt. The mountain is not the destination he would have chosen - Link would have preferred to go west - but the mountain was one essential thing.

The mountain was out there, beyond the Castle. And out there was where she was.

He smiled as he remembered the words, spoken on an afternoon that shimmered with warmth, and purpose, and regret: out there is where we should be.

A/N: Early update! I'm pushing myself to do a five-day turnaround as I have the next chapters pretty well mapped in my head. Thanks guys for your lovely reviews :)