It had not been what she expected.
Not the Castle. Not the assault. And especially not the aftermath. But then - on reflection - what course of action, what purpose laid down, had not been derailed by chaos, or chance? At least you are here, Zelda told herself. Here at last.
Here with Link. That was what she had wanted. Just to be alone with him - truly alone - but it had become something more. Much more. Maybe it was the longing. Maybe it was the bruises and scars they shared. Maybe it was the feeling that they had never been anyone but who they were in that moment, just two kids desperate for each other and for some respite from the casual savagery of the world around them. But whatever the cause, the result had been something primal and frantic - Link, clumsy and still half-clothed, taking her against that old desk at her urging, punctuated by nervous laughter and whisperings of can I, can we and Goddess, yes, I think, yes, don't think, just, just…
And even the thought of that made her blush, even now, especially now, and shake herself to make sense of it, and what they had done. Hardly Queenly of you, she thought, but then she wasn't really Queen. Nothing made her Royal. Nothing made her a lady. The Royal Family were all gone, and her titles and claims with it. She was an heir to nothing - a nothing which no longer included any expectations of how she should behave. The Calamity may have taken all she had been, but in return, it had given her some freedom.
What little freedom she had; there was always work to be done. A Castle to repair. A Kingdom to rebuild. A traitor to smoke out. A Knight to rediscover. And eventually, maybe, a crown to wear.
Zelda stepped into the Hyrule Castle Library with stride. Work was welcome; work had kept her alive in those early months with Link, and in those months without. She caught an early morning sunbeam in her palm and turned to survey the long, dilapidated hall. The broken floor crunched under her boot, and the air was thick with the smell of reverence, and the must of age, and the faintest metallic hint of blood. So much to be salvaged here; hundreds of books that could still be readable. There was time, just enough, a few more minutes before she would be needed in the throne room.
And then, with a smile teasing on her lips, Zelda turned to the boy standing at her side, who was gazing up at the grid of old books in quiet awe.
"Before you start, could you remind me how Magnesis works?" she asked, holding out the Shiekah Slate.
Dutifully, breezily making her blush once again with no more than a simper, Link took the Slate from her hands and began once again to explain.
The titles were faded, obscured by dust and time. Link scanned the tomes with squinting eyes, head cocked to one side, tonguing a tooth and mentally repeating the word he sought; guardians, guardians, guardians.
He stood on the upper level of the Library, leaning lazily against the railing and anxiously thumbing a corner of his tunic. He was in a dual state. Mind half here; half there. First with the books before him, searching for information that could further his work with Rhoamet, and then, with Zelda as he kept a curious eye on her endeavours to test the Magnesis Rune on the bookshelves of the Hyrule Castle Library.
He rolled his shoulders, letting his mind wander, cataloguing the dull ache in his muscles. It was a fond ache though; the ache of battle, of a dance, of a song. With the Sword over his shoulder, the crossbow at his hip and his Champion tunic at his back, the ache was as familiar as it was fond. And miraculously, the tunic still fit. He'd never part with it now - not since it had become so redolent of her. Not since she'd been wearing it the evening before, back where his duelling mind was so eager to wander, when they had…
There was a clank below him as Zelda wrenched one of the old bookcases forwards with the Magnesis rune, revealing an antechamber beneath the curved stairs at the far side of the room. "Interesting…" he heard her mutter.
Link tried to focus back on the books. They had come here for a purpose after all; it had occurred to him the night before that there might be something in the Library about Guardians - perhaps some research notes. But he doubted it, somehow. The Shiekah's research had always been elusive, like the Shiekah themselves. He remembered that it was never spoken of in public, or in court. Only in private meetings, in quiet whispers. Not the kind of thing that would be published.
He blinked away a receding weariness, unable to concentrate. Every word was her; the titles on the spines, the blurbs of the heavy tomes he flipped through. They spoke her name. Every pause brought him back to her side, back to that study, bringing a yearning for something close but not close enough - not anymore.
Link abandoned his search and made for the antechamber.
There was a stillness to the small room that gave the impression of having been sealed, as though rot and decay of Hyrule Castle had not come to this place. The walls were a rich burgundy, the carpet lush, though there was little more to be found than a reading desk, and some darkly patterned shields, strewn about the floor like forgotten socks. A Royal Guard's shield, he remembered. For a time he had carried one of these, though it was more ornamental than practical. Faintly and with chagrin, he recalled dropping one, and watching it shatter at his feet, Otra's voice in his head once more; These fucking shields, useless, just like everything else those Sheikah give us.
"I've never even seen this room before," Zelda said as she searched the drawers of the desk. "It was hidden, it seems. Maybe this is where the Sheikah left their notes before the Calamity?"
"Hopefully," Link replied as he examined the make of one of the shields.
He heard the rustling of paper and saw that Zelda had found a large, leather-bound diary, so ponderous that she held with both hands. When she plied through the stiff pages to the inner leaf, she gasped. "This…this is…" her fingers dug into the leather binding. "My father's…"
Link went to her side, peering over her shoulder to read the contents of the journal;
Today, as the sun rose and a new day was born, my daughter, too, joined this sweet world. In keeping with the traditions of the royal family, I have decided to name her… Zelda.
"Oh…" he murmured. "Oh, no."
Voice trembling, eyes glassy with the threat of tears, Zelda began to read aloud. "If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready..." She paused, collecting herself, and turned the pages as though they were as heavy as stone. "I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. Even if she comes to despise me..."
She could not go on, slumping forward with resignation. Link placed his hands under hers, and they held the weight of the journal together. For a moment he wanted to take it from her, to shield her, protect her from any harm that could come for her. But the past belonged to them both; he could not demand it from her if he could not let her have it for herself. "Do you want to keep reading?" he asked.
Sniffling, Zelda raised her head and nodded. She spoke slowly, with regal detachment.
"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. P-perhaps…" she blinked at the words, unfathoming, her voice fading to a whisper. "Perhaps, I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously. I sit... and await my daughter's return."
When she was done, Zelda closed the diary and held it to her chest. She closed her eyes, hands crossed about the book as if in prayer. As if somehow, Rhoam might hear.
"You old fool," she muttered, two lonely, stubborn tears on her cheeks. They crept into the spaces where her skin cracked; where the winter chill had marred her skin, roughened her like tanned leather. He wondered if his skin was the same.
"I wish we had spoken…" Zelda told the journal. "I wish you had told me how you felt."
Link drew her in close, and she pressed her face in against his tunic to dry her tears.
Zelda spoke into his chest. "When I was a girl, all I ever heard was how prosperous my father's reign was. All the knowledge and power he amassed. I thought it came so naturally to him, as though the gods had chosen him. But I never understood… the pressure that drove him. And the fear." She raised her head. A sunbeam caught her hair, crowning her. It was the only gold she wore, now. "I'm so afraid, Link. I know nothing about ruling."
The sight of her was arresting. The thaw had come, unmasking them both, it seemed. How could he tell her? That he felt as though they had finally met? Link grasped her by the shoulders, fingers padding the tense muscles of her shoulders through her thick Rito coat.
"Well, you're not alone," he said.
"No, not anymore," She chuckled, and clutched the journal tighter in her arms, and it occurred to Link then just how much of their shared past could be contained within those pages. Words of my father? His name? His face? He couldn't help but wonder. Link needed a name to that haunting, disapproving voice.
There was a flustered sigh from the Library entrance, and both Link and Zelda turned to see Larella jogging over to the entrance of the antechamber.
"There you are, Your Grace, Champion," she said, stopping to bow. When she saw their close embrace, she pulled back from the doorway, bowing again. "M-my apologies. You are needed."
Leaving the Library and its secrets behind, they followed the Ambassador through the Castle.
The Spring rains had come, drizzling across the Castle grounds, washing away most of the damage - and the bloodshed - caused by the assault. Zelda's new devotees had begun to clean what the rain could not. They were Cinelgen's former followers, now hers for the sake of survival. Her first subjects; Hylians, once wanderers. She promised them a home so long as they helped build it.
Regrettably, however, their first job was the grisly task of giving rest to the dead, and the casualties had not been few. Zelda counted ten dead of her own; two Zora, six Rito, and two Gerudo. But most of the dead wore neckerchiefs, she noted, and had sprouted arrows from their necks, their chests, and temples too. Quick deaths, she assured herself.
She offered that the dead be buried in the holt of twisting evergreens that surrounded the Sacred Grounds - all of them, even the traitors. The fallen are now the innocents of war, no matter the side they fought for, she had said.
It was a gesture of unity. The first of many that will be needed, Link had advised when she announced her decision.
And as Larella led them into the courtyard between the two Gatehouses, she knew that his advice was sound. A bitter argument was brewing, discordant shouts, and grumbles cutting through the rain.
Each new Champion stood with their followers waiting anxiously in tow, fighting for a word in edgewise. And at the centre, the nexus of the disagreement, was the white-feather Rito warrior, and the little Gerudo Chief.
Buliara stood imposingly at Riju's back, claymore not far from reach, and Riju mirrored her bodyguard's stance; wide legged, heels driving a sharp point into the still blood splattered pavement. She was pointing, her golden gloved hand accusing. "When exactly were you going to tell us?"
"It didn't change the outcome, did it?" Teba retorted.
Link and Zelda pushed through the anxious crowd while Larella sidled in next to Sidon. The Zora Prince had his arms crossed, while at his side Yunobo held a gormless, perpetually concerned expression on his wide face.
"Why are you fighting?" Zelda demanded.
They all spoke at once, until Zelda held up a hand. From the silence, Sidon was the first to speak, the gravity in his voice giving her pause. "It has come to our attention that the Rito were recently allied with Cinelgen."
"Allied?" Riju scoffed. "The Rito aided and abetted a traitor - a war monger." She faced the Rito warrior as though she were as hardened, battle-worn, and indeed as tall as he was. "Have you any idea what he has done to my people, to my home?"
Teba scowled, squinting down at her as though she were a pest. "Have you any idea what he did to mine? I almost lost my wife!"
"Yet you claim innocence," Sidon challenged. "If your wife was aiding Cinelgen, why didn't you know?"
The warrior bristled. "That's a personal question."
"I just don't see how we can trust you," Riju frowned, and Teba turned back to her with a wing held ready as if to seize her. Buliara, as graceful as she was forceful, stepped calmly in between then.
She met Teba's eye line, the tension all but diffused, though her words were directed at both of the duelling Champions. "We gain nothing by fighting."
"Indeed, Buliara." Zelda gave an affirming nod, grateful for the imposing woman's presence. She felt as though she could do nothing but watch the alliance she had built crumble against the pride of its members and the paranoia that pervaded them. She could be falling again, with no ground beneath her feet, and she would feel more assured than she did right now. "We need to find Cinelgen," Zelda said, to convince herself as much as anyone else.
"But where would he be?" Yunobo piped up, solid fingers pawing his Goron amulet. He passed an open glance to the fields beyond the Castle. "Hyrule is enormous, and he's just one man."
"Exactly," Link interjected, all eyes shifting onto him. "He's just one man, but Cinna had people everywhere. People who we can find, and interrogate."
"People everywhere, you say?" Riju asked. Her eyes found Teba when she said, "How do you know that Cinelgen doesn't have people here?"
"Oh, get off," the Rito sneered. The crowd simmered, mumbling and whispering, their faces ruffled by the wind, by the tension interlaced between them. This is what Cinelgen would want, Zelda told herself. She pressed in closer between Riju and Teba.
"I will have no blind accusations on my grounds. Hyrule has had its fill of those. Cinelgen could be as far as Karusa Valley by the time we finish squabbling!"
"We came to rescue Link," Sidon reminded her. "And we did. Larella and I have our own battles to fight at the Domain. I am still powerless to truly help you."
Teba nodded at the Zora Prince. "I have my people to protect at home."
Even Riju agreed. "And mine too."
"This war will not end without Cinelgen," Zelda implored, gaze shifting between the Champions.
"Then you should have killed him," Teba countered. "A dagger, Zelda, not a hammer. Wasn't that what you said?"
"I've changed my mind," she said, gaze shifting between the four Champions before her. "I need him alive to convince all of your people that he is the cause of this war."
Teba dismissed her with a simple flick of his wing. "You are at war, death is inevitable."
"Is that why your people allied with Cinelgen?" Sidon frowned. "Was it inevitable?"
That was all it took. Like rabid hounds, they began to snap at each other, hungry for scraps. "Aren't you the one starving out her people?" Teba replied.
"If anything, she started it when she locked the Zora out of her city." Sidon pointed down at Riju. She pivoted on her heel as if struck, quickly retaliating.
"And how did your people solve that problem?" she hissed. "You tried to attack our Divine Beast!"
"They were no more my people than Cinelgen is yours!" Sidon insisted. "Just as the Zora besieging your home are not mine."
"And I am not the idiots who allied Cinna!" Teba added.
"ENOUGH!" Zelda bellowed, her voice feeling like thunder. Did… did I just do that? Zelda redoubled her argument. "All of that is past! If we cannot work together, Cinelgen wins no matter what!"
Riju had her hands on her hips, unyielding. "And how do we do that?"
Link, who had been standing at her side in a pensive silence, spoke at last. He looked to the Zora Prince. "Sidon, what did you mean by battles at home?"
Larella's face lit up, and she leapt at the opportunity to speak. "Sidon is the rightful King of Zora's Domain. We found a loophole in his dethroning," she nodded to Riju. "And he has no qualms with the Gerudo. If we can re-crown him, he can end the war in a single decree."
Sidon raised his hand as if to pat her on the back, but for some reason, he hesitated. Instead, he curled his fingers into a fist and grinned. "Larella is quite knowledgeable with this! It won't be easy, but I believe we can manage."
"Then you can do your part from there," Link said, and he and Zelda exchanged a look.
In an instant, she understood his tactic. Working together without working together.
Collected, with solid spine, Zelda tightened her grip on her Father's journal. "Return home then, all of you," she instructed, before turning to Teba and his Rito. "We could use scouts. Your best flyers, but no more than five. Make them a network. If they see him, they will ensure word reaches the Castle."
"Easily done," Teba said with a nod, and immediately the Rito at his back began to whisper among themselves, speculating on who would be chosen.
Zelda gave Link a surreptitious nod. Your turn. He looked to the Gerudo.
"Riju - Gerudo is already blocked off. But Cinna might head for Karusa through the Highlands. Can you send scouts?"
Riju placed a slender hand to her lips; stumped, she looked to Buliara. The bodyguard passed a glance back to her guardswomen. "We can spare one or two," she informed them.
"And then we need a team to find him. Quick movers, powerful too, but not too many. A force moves too slow, it can't adapt," Link went on, an idle finger tracing his chin. Zelda could not help but hear the words in her mind; a strategist, through and through. When she returned her focus to the crowd, she realised that all eyes were on them.
"You can't mean us?" she protested frantically. "There's only two of us. Cinelgen could have as many as thirty with him!"
"Then we take Rhoamet," Link suggested, his voice an immediate, pacifying presence.
"Are you sure?" Zelda asked with slackened jaw. Crossing the country, travelling again, but with that ancient beast of his? She could not imagine it, but Link just shrugged.
"He'll slow us down, sure," he admitted. "But with a Guardian, we'll never be ambushed, and we can drive off Cinna's forces with intimidation alone."
Zelda's mind raced, latching onto yet another concern. "And what of the Castle? We are yet to bury those who fell to reclaim it - would we leave it unguarded so soon?"
Link opened his mouth to argue, but it was Yunobo who answered. "We can guard it," he offered through a round-lipped grin, and behind him, his Goron brothers were nodding, thumping their chests. "Your Hylians, plus my brawlers. We'll shut the gates and let no one in but you, Princess!"
Zelda took a deep breath, trying once again to ground herself; to find a presence amongst the uncertainty. The faces of the Champions encircled her, waiting with expectant expressions for her answer. She held her Father's journal tight under her arm. This was what it meant to rule, she knew - to feel the weight of duty.
Her eyes met Link's, and Zelda searched those two pools of calming blue for the certainty she needed. They were unmoving, unphased. It would have to be enough.
"It is settled then," she finally said, extending her right hand towards the centre of the circle. "You do your part, and we will do ours."
One by one, hand over wing over fin, the rest of her Champions followed suit.
Less than three nights after the capture of Hyrule Castle, the fortress was nearly vacated once more. Link watched from the battlements above the main gates as the Zora, and the Rito departed for home. The sun was out, and the air almost heady with newfound warmth. At his side, Rhoamet sat quietly, having climbed up the battlements to meet him. Hello, he had said, settling into to survey the fields below. Was he keeping watch? Or just observing? Was he curious, even?
Link wanted to ask, to talk to his automaton, but his mind was uneased. A winter living under the Cinelgen's thumb had taught him not to underestimate the Gerudo, even now. As Link thought on the journey ahead, all manner of unsettling thoughts and scenarios came to him. What if Cinna means to retake the Castle when we leave? What if our loyalists betray us? What if Karusa becomes a trap? What if… what if...
The only remedy was to prepare for each one. Notes and plans, possibilities and probabilities; he spent a lot of time writing, and his notebook was almost full.
"Still a brooder, I see."
Link spun on his heel, and like an apparition, there she was. Leaning against Rhoamet's shell, her arms crossed and her sleeves rolled, Zelda giggled at his shocked expression. She wore her old white blouse and had unbuttoned it at the top, her Rito coat tied around her waist. Running a hand across Rhoamet's patterned swirls, she looked up into the automaton's eye with a warm smile. "He just won't leave your side, will he?"
"I can't keep him away," Link said. "Even up here. He's a better climber than I imagined."
Zelda hummed in agreement, and reached up to adjust her braids; as her shirt moved, Link noticed the small seam at the shoulder where it had been repaired. Where she was stabbed by Milagre.
"Teba isn't staying, as much as I asked," she said sadly, her eyes hooded as she followed Rhoamet's line of sight down to Hyrule Field. "But he has his family, of course."
"I wanted to thank him for looking after you, but…" Link smirked, noting the well-made bow she wore at her back. "Well, from what I heard, you did most of the work."
The praise went unnoticed. "I had help. From Kass, from you." She joined him at the battlements. "You were alone."
"I had Inglis, in the end. And this old thing." He gave one of Rhoamet's legs a gentle kick. The Guardian's head locked in his direction, though if it was offended he would not know. Link went on, words leaden, "And… I recovered some memories too. One in the garden that was here. And some stuff about Mipha."
Zelda chortled. "Some stuff about Mipha." She shook her head. "So you finally remembered that, did you?"
Link tensed. So she had known the whole time. "Yeah..." he sighed.
She pursed her lips, hollowed cheeks drawn in, but her voice was full with regret. "I'm sorry that it happened, and sorry that I couldn't tell you, but it was your past, not mine." She met his eyes then, and he saw something accusing in her glare. "Still, I should have boxed your ears. Those days before the Calamity were hard for everyone. You ought to have seized happiness wherever you could."
Link smiled, in spite of himself, and in spite of the solemn topic. I knew this would happen, he thought. It almost felt like a victory. I knew it! He leant against the battlement, resting his arms on the walls, working hard to seem casual and unseeming; but he was pleasantly surprised at how easy it felt to be in her company again.
"Are you happy now?" he asked without thinking. She laughed again, but bitterly this time, and turned her gaze back towards the fields, and Link understood her answer. They stood in silence, soaking in the sun, until Zelda placed a hand on Link's arm.
"Would you like to talk about what happened, the other night?" She asked quietly. "We won't have much time after we depart."
Link swallowed, fighting to keep his air of ease. "I was just... waiting for you," he told her, not quite believing his words. "I'm sorry, if it wasn't quite what you..." He trailed off, suddenly uncertain. "I didn't want to pressure you."
She quirked a brow. "Pressure me? As I remember, I invited you into my study. But I suppose..." She gave an exaggerated shrug. "You started it, with that... thing you did, with your mouth."
Link felt a thrum of warmth in his belly. That thing he'd done. It was a dream now, the boldness of it a mystery; lips against her bare thighs, but closer, and closer, and closer… He couldn't think what had inspired him, but the way his name had caught like a breath in her throat had been a reward in itself.
"I just..." Zelda was looking at him expectantly, so he searched for something to say that wouldn't sound foolish, but ultimately gave up, shrugging. "I liked it."
She laughed, high and musical, and Link felt all of the tension leave his shoulders. She moved closer, and when she spoke next, her voice was low and rich, but with quiet candour. "I did too," she said, intertwining a hand in his. "I'm sorry it wasn't somewhere… nicer."
"It was plenty nice," Link grinned. He gave her hand a concerned squeeze, feeling the roughness where callouses were beginning to form. "...you're not worried, are you? That it might have been improper?"
She groaned, squeezing his hand in return before bringing it to her chin, lips pressed against the knuckles. "Let's not think about that. Let's just do what makes us happy."
"These are hard times after all…" Link teased.
Zelda ignored him. "We can sort out what's proper when I really have a crown on my head. But first is finding Cinelgen, and finding your friend."
Link looked back out from the battlements, his eyes settling on the flat mesas and longline cliffs of Gerudo, unhappy to be reminded of Inglis' dire situation. "Then that's what we'll do," he said, more to assure himself than her. "Wherever they are."
The lethargic roll of their oar boat was what woke Inglis. Not the heave-ho of the rowers, not the pain in the right side of his head, not even the soft and gentle voice above him, cooing platitudes and apologies, wake soon, sweet Inglis, forgive me, please. No. It was the churning of his stomach that signalled to Inglis his survival, as well as the faint memory of how much he hated ships and hated water. But he was glad to wake with Milagre above him and his head cradled in her lap. A throb of pain at his right side made Inglis reach for his face, where he found a damp bandage. A laugh caught in his chest; Aurelia would never let him hear the end of it if she saw him. I am as blind as you are deaf. He could hear her voice. He could hear her teasing him. Inglis looked where he could, and drifting past he saw the rain soaked banks of Hylia River and the mist-laden trees of the forests beyond.
"Are you in pain?" came the husky voice from above. Milagre was smiling down at him, hair frizzed from the rain, face pale, a little bloodied still. He tried to speak but the words came out as croaks, and she shushed him, leaning down to kiss his brow, the side of his face, the corner of his lips. "Never mind. Sleep, sweet Inglis," she said, and wrapped in her arms he almost did, until a burst of red caught his eye.
A flame against the dreariness, Cinna's hair hung limply about his head, the colour nearly snuffed out by the rain and mist. He was wrapped in his velvet cloak, crouched at the bow, ruminating.
"What happened?" Inglis finally managed to mutter. He remembered… fighting. And then falling. A Beast in the sky and waters below. The rest was blank. What had happened at the Castle? Was Link okay? Where were they? Milagre ran a hand along his cheek.
"I should not have turned on you," she sighed, her nose pressed against his. "Perhaps then you would have fought harder. Fought for me."
"What happened?" Inglis repeated, squirming, kicking, boots clunking against the wooden floor of the boat. Cinelgen turned, and the crew shifting around him, as if in avoidance.
Milagre frowned. "Your friend won, sweet Inglis. And he hurt you."
Link? Inglis winced at the pain in his ear, the memory returning. A glint of steel, a wide blade. Link's blade. He could hardly believe it but the memory was there. The Knight before him, in a tunic of blue and white, roaring as he brought his sword across Inglis' ear.
"I'm sorry. For everything," Milagre said, pushing the hair from his eyes, her grip the only thing abetting his shock. "But I'm here. Cinna is here. He saved you, helped you escape. And now, we will always have each other."
Inglis shivered, clinging to Milagre for support. Cinna had moved to sit beside them. "On the road again! Just like old times, hey?" he said. "We're not far, just a few more days south."
The Gerudo's green eyes practically sparkled, but Inglis saw the melancholy beneath. Wildness and abandon were what drove Cinna. But with no focus it would break him, Inglis knew, sending him spiralling into himself. He forgot his friend's crimes then.
"I'm sorry, Cinna," Inglis croaked. "I'm sorry… sorry, it came to this."
Cinna's grip slackened, but his facade did not break. "I never wanted that Castle, anyway. We should have burnt it down!"
"That's what I said," Milagre scolded. "We should have left nothing for that Princess."
"Heading around a bend!" one of the rowers called, and the boat began to sidle in towards a muddy shore, banking sharply against the current.
"Well, I don't envy her," Cinelgen admitted. "The throne is not a fun place to sit. It made me paranoid. Fearful." He ruffled Inglis' hair and then stopped to adjust his bandages. "I'm not angry, you know. I wanted Link's friendship too. And you only went to him because of how we were treating you."
The Gerudo reached an arm around Milagre and pulled her into a solidary embrace. "Well, no more. We're a family - a trio!"
"Get off," Milagre whined, playfully pushing herself free. "You're insane."
"I was!" Cinna laughed, grappling her back, holding them both tighter. "But I think I'm done now. No throne is worth the madness it brought."
"We could go back," Inglis said, suddenly hopeful. He looked up and saw their smiling faces, wanting to capture them somehow. "We don't need to run anymore. If you surrendered, if you admitted-"
Cinna's face fell. "They'll kill me."
"You don't know that."
There was no telling if Inglis was right. His right temple throbbed again; it had to have been an accident. Link could not have hurt him. Not deliberately, or without cause. Hadn't they been friends? All of them? Wasn't that the only thing any of them had wanted? He did not want to go to Karusa. He wanted to go home.
The boat shook as it rolled over a swirling eddy, the rowers heaving their oars through the water to push through the turn. Cinelgen barked an order, and soon the boat was back on course.
"Link would accept you," Inglis said. "I know it." He expected nothing more from Cinna then; he expected that his ideas would be ignored as so often had been.
But that laughing smile flickered again on Cinelgen's lips, and he hummed. "Perhaps he would."
Down the line of horses, the goggles were passed. From the ridge of Nephra Hill, far away enough to remain hidden, Link, Zelda and the Gerudo surveyed the siege of the Geldarm Bridge with the aid of Robbie's Sheikah goggles. Link recalled crossing it when it was still under construction, and he recalled the pride with which Buliara had described it to him. A bridge of solid sandstone to connect Gerudo with the rest of Hyrule. But all it was now was a site of war...
Activity on both sides was sparse, aside from the patrols of Zora warriors and Gerudo guards alike. The Zora spanned the entire north side of the bridge and its surrounds; two dozen tents, numerous fires, rows of weapons and shields, ready to be seized for battle. The Gerudo camp was by comparison barely a camp at all. A handful of tents, guarded by stakes and wooden barricades of felled palm trees, arranged like rows of jumping jacks.
"As you can see, we are in a precarious position," Riju panned, her chest heaving a long sigh. "If Sidon does not call them off, they will never leave. And every day they move further across."
Link's horse shifted anxiously, and he ran a hand through its mane. No need to fret, he wanted to tell it, but could not shake the familiar, impending anxiety. Another standoff.
Rhoamet stood at his left, watching the scene below with a vacant eye. Zelda sat atop her horse on his right, the goggles in hand. "When we find Cinelgen and convince the Zora to leave, he will be yours," she decreed.
Builiara did not seem placated. "And if you do not find him? What then?"
"I don't know," Zelda admitted. "But we will adapt. Link and I have become masters of the art."
The Knight turned researcher. The Princess turned warrior. That didn't seem right to Link. He wasn't just a researcher, nor was Zelda just a warrior.
There was no time to ponder further. Below the Zora on the bridge shifted forward, and the Gerudo on the far end sprang into action. They raised their golden bows in warning, but no arrows were fired. The Zora did not move. From the ridge, the scene was a diorama; a performance, in a state of constant intermission.
"I almost want them to fight," Riju said. "Get it over with. Tears us to pieces. But let us die, at least."
"They could have," Link said bluntly. Heads turned in his direction; half a dozen pairs of eyes, and one - Rhoamet sat ready, eager at the sound of his master's voice. "So, why haven't they?"
"They mean to cut us off, starve us, punishment for our actions towards their envoy," Buliara explained. "But the Gerudo can endure alone. It is the fear that strangles us."
Riju echoed her bodyguard's concern. "Someday soon, their patience could run out," she mused. "If Sidon does not return. If Cinelgen is nowhere to be found. It's all I can think about."
The little Chief's desperation was unsettling, not in the least because it was justified. She had always seemed so in control – even with Vah Naboris threatening her city, or with the Zora at her gates. But she was time worn, now. A wind hewn cliff face – once bold, crumbling now to reveal the fine sands beneath.
Zelda sensed Riju's anxiousness. "Would your people feel more secure with their Divine Beast returned to them?" Zelda asked. She had drawn the Shiekah Slate from her belt, a schematic of Vah Naboris on the screen.
Link leaned in his saddle, neck craned to better see the screen. He had meant to ask Zelda if he could borrow it to perform a diagnostic on Rhoamet.
"The Gerudo would be very appreciative of such a gesture," Riju said with bowed head. "You would require Buliara to pilot her, no?"
A look passed between Zelda and Buliara then, and even from the far side of the group Link saw the bodyguard's gaze that struck him as maternal. She nodded, and so Zelda answered, smiling down at the little Chief.
"Not Buliara, no."
With the Geldarm Bridge inaccessible, the party were forced to travel through the Gerudo Highlands, re-entering the desert at the Desert Gateway. Their progress was slow, though thankfully the onset of spring alleviated the snowfall. Curiously, the Gerudo had not much more than cloaks to ward the chill - their usual silken, light-cut clothes unchanged. Where Zelda shivered, the Gerudo seemed almost aloof to the cold, their heads perched high, as if they could look down their noses at the very weather. When asked, Riju put it down to Gerudo hardiness.
"My people are survivors, suited to the harshest of conditions. More so than any other race. This cold will not kill us, so why baulk?"
Hardiness was indeed what they needed. The desert seemed even more brutal than before. When they passed Kara Kara Bazaar, they found it abandoned; its traders having packed up and moved into the city.
Once they reached the town gates, Link took the Sheikah Slate and teleported to Vah Naboris, where she was still sat with the sandstorms of the south. He was still her inducted pilot and could march her back to the outskirts of Gerudo Town where Zelda, Riju and Buliara would meet him.
In return for their aid with Naboris, Riju offered Link and Zelda a royal apartment each within the palace of Gerudo Town - which they sadly had to turn down.
"There's no time, we need to make haste to Karusa," Zelda said as they approached Gerudo Town, frowning inwardly. She had been looking forward to a night in a warm bed. And perhaps, a night not spent alone.
"Of course," Riju nodded.
While they waited, Riju convinced Zelda to at least enter the town to rest, and recuperate in preparation for the Cleansing Ritual. The streets of Gerudo Town were nearly as empty as Kara Kara, with only a handful of stalls open, and barely any goods stocked.
"Little Chief!" an old crone called from her stall of charred and ageing looking meats. "Little Chief! Another day without news?"
Riju spoke gracefully, though her clouded face betrayed her fury and shame. "None, Vera! My apologies!"
The crone spat, her voice shrill as she whined. "Again! Are you a Chief or a mouse, when will you drive them back? How long before they storm our city? How can we trade with no customers?"
Buliara broke from the group of returning Gerudo and reached menacingly for her dagger. "How can you talk with no tongue!?" she hissed. "Remember to whom you speak!" The woman spat again, but fell silent.
After a tense afternoon tea of chilled Hydromelon juice taken in Riju's throne room, a guardswoman finally signalled that Naboris had been spotted on the horizon. Zelda, Riju and Buliara sped along the dunes to meet the Beast, pulled each by a dutiful sand seal - Zelda was surprised to find she had not lost the knack for it, remembering the training Urbosa had put her through just to keep her from falling each half a mile. You just need a strong core, she had always said. The rest is instinct after that. Let your muscles do the work that your brain cannot. So many teachings. No wonder she had begun to forget. As they skirted through the sand, Rhoamet followed happily behind, and Zelda was impressed at his ability to keep pace, marvelling as his long, segmented legs hopped across the shifting dunes.
Once Naboris had been lowered to the ground, Link disembarked, greeting them with a wide and happy wave, before stopping to wipe the sweat from his brow. In the meantime, Rhoamet had walked himself around to the front of the Beast, and was looking up at its flat face. He was blinking something, a series of patterns that Zelda could not quite read. Sheikah Code, but too fast for her to understand.
"What's he saying?" she asked Link.
He approached his Guardian and squinted, eyes hard as he focused. "No… i, n… No infantry, zero."
"'No infantry zero'?"
"That's what he's saying," Link shrugged. "It's a new one."
"We had better get to work!" Buliara called from the entrance. "High noon approaches. Soon it will be too hot to remain outside!"
Zelda gently nudged Link towards Naboris' curved double doors, and they went with Riju and Buliara to the main control unit at the centre of her cylindrical inner chamber. As if by habit, Link drew his sword and held it out for Zelda, the blade pointed down, and his hands wrapped tight around the hilt.
"Just like old times," he grinned as she placed her hands over his. Zelda closed her eyes to begin the ritual.
Eerie similarity; that sense of emptiness. The void where time would be. She was here again, and the voice confirmed it;
"Ah, Princess, you return."
Zelda opened her eyes to darkness - pervasive and pressing against her, making an other of her presence. The Master Sword was in her hand, and there was water at her feet; a shallow pool, ink black and viscous as honey. What happened here?
Looking ahead, she met with the uncomfortable glare of the woman. Her mirror image. The fragment. "Just as I knew you would," the woman went on.
"Just as you knew…?" Zelda asked, aware suddenly of how cold the air was here.
With a long sweep of her arm, the woman gestured around them. "It is as I said. This is a place outside of time; unbound. That once made it sacred."
Zelda looked around, open eyes trying to latch onto some form or familiarity, but there was simply nothing to see. "You told me that memory dwells here," she said. "But I don't see anything. At all."
"Then perhaps we need a little light," the woman offered. She raised her own right hand and tapped where the golden symbol would be. Cautiously, resting the sword in the crook of her arm, Zelda unfastened her glove and revealed the mark on her hand. The light it gave off revealed the sights around them; two pillars of stone flanking a pedestal, and a long walkway leading up to it. Around her, the sky had begun to brighten, tinged gold and purple, as though an eternal dusk beset this place.
"See?" The woman approached the pedestal, her long hair and wafty white dress flowing like water behind her. "Much still remains. The memories most of all."
Zelda followed. "Memories? Whose?"
"Everyones. The history of Hyrule flows through here." The woman placed her hands on the pedestal, gazing down at it with great intent. "This is a nexus of time, all times and all places converging here. Every possible you and every possible him. We can find them all. Would you like to sail the seas? Fly through the skies? Walk through walls or run like a beast?"
The woman's words were dizzying, as was the beauty of the realm around them. Zelda remembered then where she had been before; with Link, and Riju and Buliara. This place was folly, as bewitching as it was. She had real problems to deal with, back where time flowed, and the skies were blue.
"How do I know this isn't a dream?" she demanded.
The woman sighed. "I knew this would happen. It always does. But I prepared something just for this. You are on your way to Karusa Valley?"
Zelda nodded.
"Then watch carefully. Forget nothing. And understand the power this place contains."
Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but the woman disappeared, and so did the light in her hand - it was usurped, torn from beneath her and replaced by the swaths of red earth and black sky, as well as the taste of dust in her mouth.
She was stood atop a thin, winding valley that jutted into a wall of cliffs, lit only by torchlight. All around her were watchers; bandits, in blue and white neckerchiefs, crouched low at the edges of the valley walls. "This is Karusa!" Zelda cried out, but her words were unheard. And this must be a vision, then.
Scanning the scene, she saw the Yiga Hideout just beyond. A cacophony of shouts rang out, and Zelda watched with open mouth as, from the Hideout entrance, Cinelgen came running, dressed in tatters, his face bloodied. He brought two fingers to his lips, the whistle echoing against the earthen walls, returned by a long blare from a horn. On his heels, appearing from every direction were Yiga, with curved sickles and dark red garb. But with the horn blast, the bandits around her jolted into action, loosing arrows down into the valley. The Yiga fell, and those that found their way atop the valley were soon overwhelmed. Some of them stumbled, moving sluggishly, almost clumsily, and Zelda realised; they were drunk! Inebriated and surprised, the Yiga stood no chance.
She ran along the valley edge, towards the entrance of the Hideout, passing through the bandits of the vision. Reaching the entrance, she saw them; the spear-wielder, dressed in draped formal garb, and the Hylian Inglis. They stood close, lips almost touching, until the Yiga woman departed back to the Hideout, and Inglis took off into the valley.
The rest of the vision was almost unfathomable; what seemed to be a group of four Yiga Elders burst from the Hideout with Milagre at their backs. One tried to flee, but Milagre cut him down. The rest were executed one by one with an arrow from Cinelgen's painted bow. When it was done, he, Milagre and Inglis rounded up the youngest Yiga and marched them out of the valley.
"A massacre," came the woman's voice. "The day the Yiga Clan all but ceased to exist."
The vision of the valley fell away, leaving Zelda in darkness once again, except for the blinding white light as the woman appeared before her.
"When did this happen?" she asked.
"You are not far from Karusa now, Princess," came the answer. "Go, and see, and then return to the Gerudo. They are in danger."
Zelda did not understand, but she did not ask. She had seen enough. Bringing the Sword to her chest, she prayed that she would soon wake.
Naboris was crouched once more, this time by the side of her city. Following the Ritual, Riju had been quickly inducted as pilot, and with a childlike eagerness, she had led the Divine Beast towards the south face of the city. Even sitting, Naboris towered over Gerudo Town, casting a long shadow across the walls.
The return of their Divine Beast was not the only gift Link and Zelda had for the Gerudo, however. Link had been thinking of ways to bolster the Champions - to unite them, as was so desperately needed. Matching scarves would not be enough. They needed to feel as though they were part of something elite, something with greater cause, and he remembered then his powers - or more accurately, the previous Champions' powers.
"Before we go, Lady Riju," he had said, catching the Gerudo Chief at the entrance of Vah Naboris. He cupped his hands to his chest. "This belonged to Lady Urbosa. Naboris' new pilot should have it."
Focusing, feeling a hollowness metered out from within, Link pulled the power forward, until it was collected in a luminescent ball between his hands.
With shaking fingers, Riju reached forward, the light of the power dancing in her almond eyes. "This was Lady Urbosa's?" she echoed.
"It was her fury," Zelda said, her brows slightly furrowed. "A mage's mark. A click of her fingers and the storm was hers."
"And now it's yours," Link told the still gawping Chief. "A powerful gift of unity between Hyrule and Gerudo."
With a small bow, and the approval of Buliara, Riju pressed the shimmering light into her chest. Her eyes went white as she startled backwards, her breath hitching. Buliara moved to catch her, steadying hands at her shoulders. But Riju quickly recovered, and when it was done, she raised her hand and snapped her fingers. She squealed with delight as a barrage of static filled the chamber, crackling the air. Naboris warbled in response. Was it approval, or disapproval? Link could no longer hear the Beast's voice.
"Now, you may dream about being Naboris, but that's normal," Zelda explained once they had disembarked. "The Sheikah Technology and the induction process creates a link between you."
Riju passed a lingering look up along Naboris' long spine, towards her impassive face. She was rubbing her hands together, as she had been since she'd received the power. "And what of Naboris' abilities?" she asked. "I've been subject to her electrical pulses before, but what about-"
"Those pulses could be useful, by the way," Link interjected. He had returned to Rhoamet's side, and was checking his segmented limbs for dust and sand. "They power her inner workings. I bet we could reroute it, somehow. To power pumps, or some kind of motor..."
Zelda agreed, her eyes lighting up at the prospect. "Electrical power, yes, that would be brilliant!"
The Chief's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps. But I have two dozen Zora at my doorstep. What do I do if they breach the Geldarm? I need Naboris to protect us!"
"And she will!" Zelda assured her. "The Zora will never dare approach the city with her here. But you can't actually use her-"
Riju was adamant, her decision already made. "I have no choice. Believe me, please."
Link and Zelda stared incredulously at the Chief - at the child before them - who was openly suggesting wielding her Divine Beast as an instrument of war. Behind Riju, Buliara approached with their sand seals. When she saw their downcast faces, she frowned, understanding immediately.
"Riju, if you attack them with Naboris, they will retaliate. With their Beast," Link said sternly. "You cannot do this."
"And Sidon is working to bring them back under his control – to call them home," Zelda reminded her.
The little Chief looked to her bodyguard for backup, but Buliara gave her nothing more than an authoritative scowl.
"Of course," she conceded, her anxious hands dropping to her sides, though the commitment was feeble. "But by the Goddesses, waste no time in finding that Gerudo."
The openness of the desert brought a welcome peace. There was nothing between them but the searing air, the roll and yaw of the dunes, and the sand seals they had been gifted to help pull their supplies. Rhoamet marched behind them, both a protector and a pet.
Mercifully, the sands towards Karusa were wide and flat, and their hike was easy. By day they walked, talking little to conserve their strength, and by evenfall, they spoke and sang, told jokes and counted stars. Zelda read from her father's journal, recounting for Link the stories of his reign; the failed endeavour to open the Knight Academy to races beyond the Hylians, the overthrowing of a tyrannical Goron boss, the crisis of succession in Zora's Domain, the rise of magic in Gerudo Desert, among other things.
"Is there anything of my father in there?" Link had asked, and to both their dismay, they found nothing. Zelda herself could not even remember the man Link's father was - not even a name. Another memory lost to time.
And by night, they slept in each other's arms, fending off the chill of the desert, building a sanctuary between them that the rest of Hyrule could not reach. Link sought her lips in the dark, and Zelda relished in the comfort and simplicity of it, his mouth marking a slow journey down her neck. It stirred a new warmth within her, just like that night in the study, and she allowed herself to chase it - hands roaming over and under fabric, searching. Exploring. Learning.
And that boldness of the first night returned, inhibitions gone, her senses filled with nothing but the gallery of stars above and the electric, ecstatic pulse that coursed through her. But when they came close - Link's hand between her thighs and his murmur in her ear, do you want to - she said no. Not here. Not as vulnerable as they were. Not while she still shook with fear at the task ahead of them. Link did not pout, or complain, achingly at ease as he whispered, Just being here with you is more than enough.
The next day the flat cliffs of Karusa finally rounded over the horizon. Zelda was flicking through the compendium in the Sheikah Slate, trying to remember if it was Warm Safflina or Cold Safflina that grew in the desert when Link suddenly placed a warning hand on her shoulder.
"Do you hear that?"
His body was tense, eyes closed as he concentrated. Around the toe of her boots, Zelda sensed the sand begin to shift.
It was quiet at first, the rumbling. Like blood through veins; soft, constant. It grew, creeping underfoot at the edge of her conscience. Something's coming. Soon more sand began to shudder, and then there was no denying it. Something's coming! And the rushing grew louder, and stronger, and the ground shook, the sand bursting forth until like a flood as the sound of it washed over them and Link shouted,
"Molduga!"
They sprinted for their sand seals, grabbing their packs and leaping onto their surfing shields to flee. Rhoamet followed as fast as he could, but quickly lost pace as behind them, great boughs of sand from the Molduga beginning to erupt forth in pursuit. Zelda gave her tether a hard whip and winced at the sting against her fingers, fighting to keep her balance, while Link rounded to the right and sailed back towards Rhoamet.
"He can't keep up!" he cried. "And he's the heaviest thing here. We need to get him somewhere safe!"
Passing a fearful glance over her shoulder, Zelda spied the moving mound where the sand contorted - where the Molduga was closing. Rhoamet's five spindly legs flailed near helplessly as the sand fell away beneath him, his clawed feet not designed to traverse the unsteady ground at such speed.
The sand crested, and then dipped, and they raced down along a sloping valley.
"Over there! Up ahead!" Link was shouting, and Zelda saw a pair of low, rocky mesas at the base of the valley. They were small enough to climb but big enough to be a refuge, each sprouting a handful of arcing desert palms.
"Can you hold him off?" Zelda called to Link, sputtering against the sand that flew into her mouth. It was blinding, battering her eyes, her skin. Link however, seemed in his element. He was winding and weaving, whipping at his sand seal's tether, trying to create enough movement to draw the Molduga away from Rhoamet.
He held out a hand. "The Slate!" he said, cutting left behind Rhoamet.
As quick as she could, Zelda unlatched the Sheikah Slate, and lobbed it towards him, nearly losing her footing as she shifted her weight. Link banked towards her, catching it effortlessly with one hand.
"What are you going to do?" Zelda shouted.
Without answering, Link worked the Slate as they continued to race towards the twin mesas, and between his palms came forth a luminescent bomb, its light essence trailing behind in long lines. "Head to the Mesa!" he said. "I want to try something!"
Doubling down on her tether, Zelda called for the Guardian to follow while Link pulled back. The shallow in the ground that marked the Molduga's presence was gaining again. In a swift motion, Link threw the bomb onto the sand, circling around where it had landed, and not a moment later the Molduga changed course.
"Rhoamet!" Link shouted. "On my signal!"
The Molduga exploded from the sand, launching itself high into the air. Zelda caught the shadow as it careened overhead, wobbling again as the slope flattened. She watched with open mouth when Link thrust the Slate forward, and the Molduga froze.
"Now!" Link roared. Mechanical, methodical and skidding as he halted in the sand, Rhoamet turned his round head back around and arced himself up towards the Molduga that was still mid-air. After a moment to aim, he fired; once, twice, three times, three beams of energy directly into the suspended creature. The Stasis on the Molduga broke, and it soared out of view, crashing down back into the sand at such a distance that Zelda could not even see it.
At last, they reconvened at the base of the mesas; Rhoamet had climbed them despite there no longer being any danger. Zelda leapt from her shield, and raced into Link's arms, laughing and cheering.
"That was amazing," she said. "You two make quite the team!"
"Thank you," Link grinned proudly, giving her an exultant kiss before climbing the mesa to Rhoamet's side. "I'm just glad he's safe."
Once they had recovered, they began to re-orient themselves; but the task did not take long. Their flight down the slope had led towards the cliffs at the edge of Gerudo. And less than half a mile beyond, splitting the wall of the bluffs like a blemish was a long, was a thin valley, the walls pressed in close, adorned with red flags. It was as it had appeared in the vision, bleak and uninviting, a crevice in the known world.
Link announced their arrival: "Karusa."
With wary steps and vigilant eyes, the trio of the wild - Link, Zelda, and their Guardian - made their way into what turned out to be an empty valley.
Despite what they presumed, Cinelgen had not come to Karusa. Not a single soul had in months. All they found were the dead, and the unseeing frog statues that were the valleys only residents now.
The further they pressed, the more corpses they met - most were completely rotted, their flesh shrivelled and desiccated, splitting to expose bone bleached white by the sun. But their clothes and their weapons identified them clearly enough. The red and black of the fabric had faded into pastels, and some of the weapons had begun to rust.
"Yiga, all of them." Link frowned, kneeling before one of the carcasses. He wrapped a hand around its wrist, peeling back the fabric and exposing a small, barely visible red tattoo. "They've been dead for months."
A massacre, Zelda realised. She had begun to shake, taking in the grim scene in stunned silence.
"Cinelgen did this," Zelda said. The woman's words returned like thunder; the Gerudo are in danger. "The vision… the vision was real."
As if in a trance, beset by a premonition of looming tragedy, Zelda began to ran back towards the valley's entrance. Link was calling after her, but she didn't slow.
"I will explain as we travel," she shouted over her shoulder. "We need to reach Riju!"
Just like old times.
Their camp was built before even fall. They collected driftwood that washed up on the shore, leaving it to dry on the sand, harvesting bracken from the banks, and soon the fire was crackling in the twilight, Hyrule Bass browning above the flames.
The lake stretched out around them, vast as a sea against their little camp, and the Bridge of Hylia loomed overhead.
Lake Hylia was where Cinelgen had led them, determined to lay low and keep out of sight. They purchased horses, built tents. In the quiet, they lived. The Gerudo's constitution was changed entirely, his fervour tempered by the warm weather, any hint of vengeance gone. Inglis was hesitant to say he had simply given up. Cinelgen had always seemed to be working on something, but now he passed his time idly. Perhaps, having tasted both victory and failure, he was at peace.
They sat together by their campfire as night descended over the lake, each picking at morsels of roasted fish. At the shore, Milagre was washing her hair in the lake. Inglis peered through the smoke of the fire, gaze passing between Milagre in her water-soaked clothes and the cliffs above. Between bites, Cinelgen was musing over the omens of an early spring, his painted Duplex bow in his other hand, nails tracing the chips and marks it had collected over the years.
As he listened, he spotted a figure on an outcrop beyond the camp, and his heart almost stopped; there she was. A single searing eye, white-gold hair pulled into a rough braid.
One by one her followers appeared on the outcrop, and together they descended into the camp. It was not long before Cinelgen noticed, raising his eyes from the fire to meet them.
"Ah, Aurelia," he crooned, his arms thrown wide. "You found us!"
The scowl on Aurelia's face told Inglis that she was not here to rejoin their band.
"Why are you still here, Inglis?" she said coolly, ignoring the Gerudo's welcome.
"You know, Aurelia," Cinelgen went on, standing from the fire. "I didn't see you the day of the battle. You hadn't fled had you?"
"I had," she said matter-of-factly.
"But not to Karusa?" Cinelgen asked. "That is what we'd expect."
"And what I expected of you." Aurelia surveyed the camp with a discerning eye, counting their meagre number and provisions. "Even with nothing left they still follow you. Kings could not hope for greater loyalty."
Cinelgen revelled at the compliment. "I saved them, simple as that."
"Is that what they believe?" Aurelia implored. She looked to Inglis, whatever hint of friendship they shared now gone. "Is that why, Inglis? After all you did, you went running back to his side?" Inglis was ready to argue until he heard the hurt in her voice. Milagre had appeared at his side, still wet from the water. She was seething, Aurelia's presence an affront.
"Get out of here, Aury," she hissed. "Take your people and go."
"My people?" Aurelia cried. "They're your people too, Mila. But you're too obsessed with power to remember." She gestured to the Gerudo. "Cinelgen murdered our people. He murdered my sister!"
Milagre was unaffected by the accusations. "Cassiah died on the road," she said authoritatively. "Two weeks before the attack on Karusa."
"A false report. Her tussle with Link did not kill her. She returned that night, I saw her as you marched us out of the valley!" Aurelia's voice wavered, the weight of her grief breaking her at last. "Peppered with arrows. Butchered, hunted like some helpless deer!" She beseeched the others of the camp. "Have you forgotten!? Cinelgen murdered dozens of our people. Or did you stay out of fear, like I did for too long? You needn't fear this man any longer. He has no army, no Castle, and no allies."
One by one, the bandits began to grumble and murmur. One crossed over to join Aurelia, and then another, and another. Inglis recognised them as Yiga, born to Karusa. They un-threaded their scarves and let them fall to the sand.
Cinelgen merely smiled. "Let them go," he said to those who remained. "I will not fight any longer."
"Don't mock them," Aurelia spat. She reached for the dagger at her belt. "I know you. I know what you would do. And I owe that Champion a debt - I will repay him by ridding the world of you."
"And what I would do?" Cinelgen crooned, amused by Aurelia's rage.
"You already massacred my people. What is another village to you? Another race? I watched as you wreaked havoc and I did nothing. No more."
Cinelgen sighed. "If that is what you think of me, then that is what you will get."
He reached for his bow, loading an arrow in an instant and firing it towards Aurelia. She dodged, lightning fast, the arrow just grazing her neck, and the camp erupted into chaos. Through the shouting and the brawl, Cinelgen raced for his horse, Milagre in tow. They mounted, kicking up sand as they fled along the beach.
"He's leaving, let's go!" some of his followers called, mounting their own horses.
Inglis found his own horse tethered by his lean-to and watched as Cinelgen's followers retreated, with Aurelia's giving chase.
He had a choice, he realised. The first choice he had been given in months, maybe years. To let them flee, to mount his horse and ride as far as he could away from Faron and from Cinna; or to chase the Yiga - and to chase his friend.
Inglis deliberated no longer. He made his decision and mounted his horse.
The scene that met Link and Zelda at the Geldarm Bridge was one of inaction – thought it was tense, measured, ready to break at any moment. Zelda hoped in vain that the woman had been wrong. The Gerudo are in danger, she had said. That much was true. The Zora number seemed to have swelled in size, and even now Zelda spied more arriving from the north. They were fortifying. Preparing.
The only activity at the Gerudo camp however, was a caravan of wagons approaching the bridge, carrying large crates and barrels. Provisions, Zelda presumed. Riju had returned to her post at the southern edge of the bridge. She was watching the Zora as she had been the first time Zelda had met her here; with stony eyes, and heavy features. She was watching a Rito was depart from the Zora camp, with a large satchel strapped over his shoulder.
"No word from Sidon. And more of Muzu's Zora arriving by the day," Riju sighed as they approached, appraising them with polite, if somewhat forced smile. "We heard that Karusa was abandoned. Cinelgen escaped us again."
"We have to keep faith, in Sidon at least," Zelda assured her, and Riju hummed, her eyes returning to the Zora camp. Once, Zelda would have buried the anxious thoughts that came then, but now she let them have their time; you equipped Riju with her Divine Beast, the voices of her conscience whispered, you provoked the Zora into bolstering their forces.
"Where will you go now?" Riju asked, a strange finality to her voice. "Where do you think Cinelgen could be?"
"Necluda," Link answered. "We need to go where travellers go. If he has been seen, we will find out."
The Chief nodded wordlessly. She signalled for the guard, her movements laborious. Zelda was about to ask what was wrong when Riju began to speak again.
"I want to apologise. I was foolish to want to use Naboris for war," She spoke as if reading an epitaph. "I just hope you understand. My people live in fear. I would do whatever I could to protect them."
Behind them, a Gerudo guardswoman was approaching, a small package in hand.
"We understand," Zelda said.
"It's a hard time for everyone," Link added. Zelda fought the urge to smile.
The guardswoman stopped to bow before them, and placed the package into Zelda's hands. It was a small tin, painted in black and gold brocade.
"A small gift of thanks, seeing as you could not stay," Riju said, turning, at last, to give them an apologetic smile. "I have negotiated with the Zora that you shall have passage. Despite everything, they remember your names."
After exchanging their final goodbyes, Link and Zelda became the first to cross the Geldarm bridge in months. Soon the desert heat began to recede, giving way to budding grasses and the colour of spring.
Walking alongside her horse, Zelda popped open the tin and took in the sweet smell of the lacquered treats. Tucked among the folds of paper, she noticed a small slip of parchment, rolled into a scroll. Gently, she tugged it free and found a neat, cursive writing on the paper.
I'm sorry.
She froze mid step, spinning back towards the Bridge and without a word, she mounted her horse, kicking it hard down the path.
"Hey! Zelda!" Link shouted, tearing after her on his own horse.
She didn't know what she would do when she returned. She didn't know what she could do. Maybe if she were there, whatever Riju had planned would not happen.
She reached the Zora camp and leapt to the ground, pushing through the soldiers.
And there the little Chief was, alone, her right hand raised and fingers drawn together. Two rows of the crates Zelda had seen had been rolled out onto the bridge, marked in paint with black xs. Riju startled when she saw Zelda but did not let her hand fall. I'm sorry. Zelda could not imagine the little Chief writing those words. It was the universe itself apologising to her then.
"Get back! Get back!" Zelda screamed, clawing at the Zora around her, trying in vain to pull them backwards, and behind her Link finally broke through the crowd.
They exchanged a fearful look and sprinted out to the edge of the bridge. But neither was fast enough. Riju clicked her fingers, and the whole valley shook.
First from the lightning that struck the bridge.
Then from the explosive barrels that burst forth a shockwave of flame and debris.
And lastly from the sandstone that shattered beneath their feet as the Geldarm Bridge began to crumble.
A/N: Hey guys! I see all your reviews - apologies I don't always reply. Thankyou as always for your support! I've had one or two asking me some story/personal questions. I'm not a fan of answering these in my author notes. If you want to contact me, my tumblr (listed in my bio) is the best place!