When the clouds cleared, there was nothing to hold back the waning Spring's vibrancy. It filled Hyrule to the brim. Sun and sky were a painting in thick oil, blemishless and uninhibited. The rivers sang against their banks, and everywhere one could look, there was life. To Link, it felt like an excess of light. And with light came shadow.
The journey home had taken days, and the voice had been following him again; you aren't enough, it said, when will you learn that? It was as old and insistent as ever, and it felt like a screw driving its way into his skull. You're just a Knight who thinks himself sharper than his sword!
Link expected to be angry – at Zelda or at Cinelgen or at Hyrule itself. Yet he felt a strange weightlessness where the rage would have been. He had expected grief to hit him like a wave as it had before; to fill his lungs, to make his eyes burn and his mouth salt-stained and cracked. But grief, he now knew, was not a wave in the sea but the whole sea itself. Grief could be rough, it could be calm, it could drag him down, or it could just let him float – an aimless mote on an endless drift until something reached down to pluck him free.
And there she was, come to pull him ashore. Even amongst the blinding landscape, Zelda appeared radiant on the horizon. She was a canvas of gold, white and blue; a goddess, apparently waiting for him at the gates of what once was Castle Town. She wrapped her arms around him when they met, and let him fall into her, speaking gentle words of regret and hesitant hope; we have each other, we will always have each other.
As they walked, he sensed the weight in her footfalls. The way she leaned into him as much as he did her. She was grieving too, he suddenly understood. Across Hyrule, the Sheikah Towers and Shrines had flickered out like stars disappearing at dawn. Her kingdom had lost some of its wonders, and it was by her hand.
When they reached the fountain at the centre of Castle Town, he stopped, sitting down on the fountain edge and pulling Zelda down to join him. With what felt like the last of his strength, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, as though she was the only precious thing he had. He felt the embrace returned, and for a long time, neither of them spoke. In the ruined town, they breathed through the pain together.
Zelda was the first to speak, mumbling the words into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," was all she could begin with. "I'm so sorry."
"I know," Link said, trying his best to sound reassuring, though his words were molasses in his mouth.
She pulled away, and he was met her lovely, strained face. Under furrowed brows, her eyes were seeking, almost interrogative.
"You know, if you want to go, you can go," she said softly. "I never officially released you from my service, but I can if you want."
Link was already shaking his head. "I chose you, remember?"
"That was before–"
"And I still do. I want to honour his memory, at least, and I can't do that if I run away again."
"But…" her stern eyes had become lost. "If you're not happy…"
"I'll figure that out in time, Zel," Link shrugged, before moving to gently bring her head back to his shoulder. Running a hand through her hair, he found that she'd begun to braid it again. He threaded a finger over the soft ridges where the plaits snaked across her crown, and for a moment, he felt at peace.
"Happy," Zelda murmured to herself. "I doubt anyone is happy with us right now. One of Teba's scouts returned from Gerudo this morning. She told us that Lady Riju was almost trapped within Vah Naboris. I can only imagine what happened to the others…"
"We need to talk to them," Link suggested. "Make them understand."
Zelda sighed, giving him another squeeze before unravelling herself from him. "Sometimes all we can do is talk, but it's the one thing no one ever does." She cast her eyes towards the horizon, "Well, not this Kingdom. If I am Queen, they will talk."
If the day before had been a dream, Larella could not know.
One moment she had been standing with Sidon at Ruta's Plateau, checking on the state of his Divine Beast. The next, near half a dozen bandits stormed towards them with speed and force. The Prince threw himself into the fray, managing to hold off the attackers long enough to turn with flaming, frantic eyes and shout, run! And Larella had run, but when she returned, Sidon was gone, and Ruta was filling the air with ice.
What followed was an assault, culminating in a Battle of the Beasts, as if a second Calamity had come. And then, a miracle and an apocalypse both, the sun had become the sky, and, Larella felt what she knew was the power of the gods. Sidon didn't even need to look at Ruta to know; once the light receded, as did the power of his own Divine Beast.
Now, the entire kingdom was held in suspension, stagnated with shock. Even the Akkalan Inglis remained. He had been one of the attackers, but Link assured her he was trustworthy. And the way Inglis wept for that woman that they had given to the pyre - it had stolen the breath from Larella's lungs just looking at him. So much death and loss on all sides; how could she condemn a child for his grief?
Together with the rest of the Domain, she watched and waited for news from the Castle, but in the meantime, she returned to her mission - sitting Sidon in his rightful place as King of Zora's Domain. For weeks now, their mornings began with research, breakfast taken with books in hand; poring over records and regulations, unravelling the knot that was the Zora monarchy.
Larella had tried to argue that with the end of the siege, the war was over, and Sidon should take the crown. No such luck; Muzu refused to declare the fighting done. She had demanded to see written proof of his ascension, but Muzu claimed not to need it. The Council knows what it wants, he said. And that is safety from these Gerudo.
However, the petty squabble they had with the Gerudo was nothing against the death of their Divine Beast. Larella would be unfit to call herself a diplomat if she did not take an opportunity when it arose, no matter how tragic.
Once the initial panic had subsided, she managed to secure an audience with the court, and now stood at Sidon's side in the throne room of Zora's Domain. The Regent Muzu glared down at them from his marble and azure throne.
"Tell us true then," he commanded. "The Beast is asleep?"
Larella braced for Sidon's reply. He was a pariah in isolation; a man in crimson scales bringing crimson news.
"Not just asleep, Muzu," Sidon corrected, a mighty fist balled across his chest. "Vah Ruta is dead."
The announcement was met with an uproar. The courtiers called for retribution; high wails echoed through the audience chamber, ringing clearer than steel against steel.
"Noble people of the Domain!" Larella called out, raising her hands in a vain attempt to calm them. "There is no gain in unchecked rage! We must remain-"
But her voice was drowned out in the furore until Muzu gestured to the pair of warriors that flanked the throne. They drummed their silver spears against the floor and shouted, "Enough!"
As soon as the shouting was quelled, Larella nudged Sidon to speak. The Prince cleared his throat, and spoke the words they had prepared together; "We need to put aside our differences with the other races. A tragedy has occurred, more fighting would only harm us!"
The Regent sniffed at them. "By my count, Vah Ruta was hit five times, on all sides!" he crowed. "You want me to make peace? Now?"
"Not you, Regent," Larella pointed towards Sidon. "The only person who can make peace is our rightful King!"
The chamber erupted once more, and above the noise came Muzu's shrill cries of, "You dare!"
Ignoring the chaos, the Prince stepped forward, taking a deep breath as Larella had taught him, and he spoke so loud and clear that she could feel the floors thrum.
"You must step aside, Regent!" he announced, gesturing powerfully around the room, his scales shining. "Our people are tired of fighting! Is war all you can give us?"
"Of course not!" Muzu spat.
"Then what else have you given us? A failed siege? Crippled trade? Over a spat?" he slammed a fist into his palm, the sound cracking the air. "Well, I say enough!"
The sea of faces before them began to shift, the expressions of the court turning from indignation to reverence to awe. This is the King they want, Larella thought. If only I could prove it to them.
"Enough?" Muzu cried. He slapped a fin against an arm of his throne, "It is enough when I saw it is enough!" His round eyes were furious, narrow slits, and Larella could see the scales on his face begin to tinge with red. They had him on the defensive; time to move once more.
"When will you give us proof of the Council's decision?" Larella demanded. "Every previous King has-"
Muzu was prepared for the question. "There is no law that I must do so. We held a vote, and I was named Regent," he stood slowly from the chair, looking down his nose at the young Zora before him. "While you complain, I am keeping the peace. For your own good, children, you will challenge me no further."
There was nothing more to be done, but Larella had seen the eyes of the court. They were afraid of what had occurred between the Beasts. And fear was powerful, so much so that it could be a force for good.
Evening found her in the records hall again, searching through the ponderous tomes. Inglis and Sidon arrived to assist her, bringing a pot of soup and a plate of salt-seared fish for their supper.
"You should go home, Inglis," she told the Hylian. "Go where you can grieve-"
"I don't have a home yet," Inglis shrugged. And I want to stay, help where I can."
Larella had tactfully sidestepped the Court's questions as to who Inglis was. She called him a friend of Link's, and the Ambassador to Zelda's Hylians and they seemed happy enough with that.
"There is no burden-" she began, but the Akkalan shook his head and plonked the bowl of soup down onto the table.
"I broke Link's trust, and I never want to do that again."
"He has that effect on people. They both do." Sidon grinned, busying himself by clearing the table of books and setting out the plates. "You know what occurred here, don't you Inglis? And in the desert?"
Inglis had not, and so Sidon recounted the tales over supper of Link and Zelda's adventures and exploits in the Domain and beyond; the way they had cleansed Vah Medoh, and raced into the desert to prevent an altercation between the Zora and Gerudo.
Larella had only been half listening, her eyes skimming a legal record, trying to extract something of use - until she saw it. Tucked away in a miscellany act, with amendments some four hundred years old, it read;
A previously informal bureaucratic act or process may be considered law with immediate effect if it can be shown the practice has occurred for no less than two hundred years.
The footnotes told that this prevented new kings from subverting tradition.
"This is it!" Larella cried, nearly exploding from her chair. She rummaged through her documents left on a nearby desk and found the record of Councillors and Kings for the past three hundred years. Whenever a Council elected a King, the vote was made official by a signed document. It was the proof they needed - at last!
She did not bother seeking an audience the next morning. When the court met as they did by routine, she stormed into the chamber with both the documents and Sidon in tow.
"There is a precedent, Muzu!" she said, interrupting the proceedings. "Three hundred years of it!"
Larella marched up to the throne and held the miscellany act to his face, before taking it around the room.
"If you have no record, you cannot be King," Sidon explained coolly, lips upturned in a satisfied smile. "It is law."
The Regent could not speak; he sat on the marble throne he had usurped with open mouth and watery eyes. With a hopeful smile and tightly-balled fists, Sidon turned then to the court and said, "I am ready to ascend, and I ask the Councillors to consider me favourably!"
Through the murmurs that followed, Muzu's booming voice cut across the chamber. "No - councillors, organise to sign this document immediately if that is what is required! I have the majority!"
Larella could not hide her smile then, for no one in the court moved an inch. Their refusal was clear.
"I will not, Muzu," announced one of the Councillors - a portly old man with a crisp accent and rings that clasped tight to his swollen fingers. "Your actions have jeopardised trade across the entire Kingdom. I will support the Prince as my king!"
The Regent looked like an animal in a snare. He nervously eyed the rest of the court, seeming to shrink into the throne as more and more agreed with the portly Councillor.
"Why deny the young man?" said one Councillor.
"The Ambassador's proof is sound, Muzu," said another.
The court cried out, calling for Sidon's ascension. It did not take long; Muzu's own guards muscled him from the throne and made him stumble down towards the dais.
He glared at Larella. "You. I remember when you were an attendant. I could have you beaten, and beheaded for what you have done!"
Larella had never felt taller, or indeed stronger than she did at that moment. She crouched down to meet Muzu's eye level, and sneered,
"Men like you don't scare me, Muzu. I've known worse threats, real threats. I have the scars to prove it. So threaten me again, an innocent woman and friend of your fallen king - and see how far that gets you."
By late evening, the celebrations that followed were finally beginning to wind down. Even with the threat of war still present, the Zora could not resist a feast. Muzu was not condemned to a cell but was rather stripped of his status as a noble. His punishment, Sidon deemed, was to see the Domain thrive in the absence of his input.
Larella and Sidon watched the last of the feast from a gazebo above the plaza, standing arm in arm and enjoying a moment of quiet.
"I don't deserve what I've been given," Sidon sighed. "If anyone should rule, it is you. This was all your doing, after all."
"We can't all be Kings and Queens, Sidon," Larella said. "Some of us are happy just to help."
Their peace was broken then by the sounds of hurried, splashing footsteps, as Inglis raced along the path with a letter in hand, delivered just then by a courier with great urgency. It was addressed to the ruler of Zora's Domain.
Larella tried to read Sidon's expression as he opened the letter, but she could not parse it. For once, his hooded yellow eyes revealed little.
"Zelda has called a summit of the leaders of Hyrule," he finally told them, handing the letter to Larella. "She doesn't know what has happened here."
Larella read the neat handwriting; Whoever this letter reaches, I invite the ruler of Zora's Domain to come to Hyrule Castle...
Larella grinned, clutching the letter tight. "Then let's bring her the good news."
For a moment, Zelda thought she saw snow. Twin flecks on the horizon, followed by a third, until she realised exactly what, and who, it was soaring in from the west. Teba, and his family; the sight gave her a rush of glee stronger than anything she had felt in days. She had been standing in what once was her bedroom - now a haunt of rubble and dust - where the breach in Hyrule Castle opened out to the west. In moments of uncertainty, Zelda could come here to gaze upon the Hebra Mountains. It was there that she had found her strength. There must be at least some left for it to give.
The Rito had come without even been summoned. While Zelda had told no one that she was the cause of the Beast's death, Teba had surmised it immediately. But he had not come to scold her.
"You will get enough complaints from the others," he warned once pleasantries had been exchanged. "I just wanted to know you're okay, Sparrow."
Okay. Perhaps Zelda was okay. Her life was no longer in peril. Ganon showed no signs of returning; a rogue Gerudo no longer wandered her country, setting fire to her people's homes; and despite what she had taken from him, Link had remained at her side. Yes, Zelda was the very definition of okay.
"A Queen does not get to choose how she feels," Zelda told him.
He knelt down before her so that their eyes met, and he placed a wide wing on her shoulder. "A Queen may not be able to choose, but Zelda can. And you're not a Queen yet, Sparrow. Don't forget that."
I am Queen in this Castle, at least. She put the concerns out of her mind and refocused on the enormous task of repairing what remained of Hyrule Castle. By day, Link and Zelda surveyed the damage with the help of the meagre number of Hylian constituents who had taken residence in the Castle. By night, they all supped in Dining Hall. The men and women loyal to her now were either Goron brawlers belonging to Yunobo, Rito spies in Teba's network of scouts, or former bandits of Cinelgen's. In a twist of irony, his outcasts had become Zelda's outcasts; it was only fair that she learn their names, and their stories. As a bard would, she could not help but think.
Those she had invited arrived over the next coming week - Elder Kaneli and the bard Kass came first, having received the letter less than a day after Teba's departure. Then came Yunobo and Bludo, the latter of which complained at having to travel so far with such a bad back. A train of wagons was next, carrying Leop of Hateno and Impa of Kakariko, accompanied by Paya. Buliara and Riju arrived, both hooded and refusing to speak to anyone until they laid eyes on Zelda and Link.
Riju was too anxious to begin with pleasantries. "I got your letter," she said apologetically. "I won't ever forget what it said."
"You don't need to apologise to me," Zelda said, and the little Chief nodded slowly.
"I know," she whispered, before being ushered away to Buliara.
Aurelia and her Yiga soon arrived too, ferrying the body of Cinelgen to give to the Gerudo. She scowled at the Castle when she passed through its gates, calling the place cursed. When Zelda asked what she meant, the Yiga woman pointed to her leather eye-patch and said,
"It takes more than it gives. I hope you have a lot of muster, little Queen," she laughed at Zelda's stunned expression, pulling a banana from her pouch to munch on as she settled her horse.
The last to arrive brought the biggest surprise; Larella announcing that they were in the presence of King Sidon, along with the Hylian Inglis. By Link's account, Zelda had expected him to be near catatonic, having lost his mentor and lover in one day. But Inglis carried in his spirit a low burning flame of hope, and Zelda saw it grow when he was reunited with Link and Aurelia.
Sidon's arrival heralded that the talks could begin. And so, on a warm morning in the late-Spring, she called them all to the throne room. While she had been away, racing across the land to find Cinelgen, her followers had replaced the planks across the hole in the throne room floor and had cleaned the place of the debris, and the blood left over from the Castle's takeback. The banners were still rotting, and the high windows of the hall were still mostly broken, but at least the room did not look like a battlefield.
She waited for the attendees beneath the balcony, wanting to meet them eye to eye rather than from her throne. Thankfully, despite the season, the air in the throne room was cool; Zelda had deigned to wear her Rito Coat, even if it was more suited to winter. She had found an old, golden necklace bearing the royal bird of Hyrule, and she wore it now as the only symbol of her status. Rito Princess, Cinelgen had once called her. It did not matter. The coat made her feel strong, as though it were armour of steel and not wool.
One by one their guests entered the room, forming a motley line before her. Those who had not been to the castle were hesitant to step onto the wooden planks, and if Zelda were honest with herself, she would be too. All that stands between us and a hundred foot drop are a few rows of rotting wood.
But still she took a step forward, hearing her own boots click against the planks, and she began,
"I know the question you have asked, and I know I have withheld the answer from you. But it was only fair that you hear it together," She took another step forward; Link remained at her side, never more than a foot away. "I am not condemning anyone pilot or people, and it was not the Zora who destroyed part of this Castle, but an interloper and a bandit who wrenched control of the Beast with the intent to stir conflict."
Riju pushed through to the front of the crowd, the bells and jewels of her formal Gerudo attire jingling audibly when she moved. "Cinelgen?" she pressed. "Your letter said he was dead."
Zelda nodded, and passing her eyes to Inglis, who was standing with Aurelia and the Yiga, she said, "... it was an associate. But Cinelgen and his bandits are no more."
"So what happened?" pressed Elder Kaneli of the Rito, an air of curiosity rather than indignation in his voice.
It hurt to speak. The pain of regret was still strong, and already Zelda could feel the support of her allies waning. Yet Link's quiet strength at her side was the pillar in which she found her own. Adjusting her Rito coat, she began to explain,
"We as a Kingdom are responsible. Our bickering and infighting, our misjudgments, and hesitation. When we turned on each other I… had no choice. I made a choice," She held up her right hand and showed the crowd the golden crest. "Your Champions will have already guessed. The Divine Beasts are dead," she caught sight of Impa and Paya at the edge of the crowd, watching with agelessly solemn faces. "As are the Towers, and the Shrines."
"Wait - you killed our Divine Beast!" Kaneli cried. He pointed a wing towards the Rito Warrior, who started backwards, but could not protest before the Elder said, "But Teba was defending your Castle, and you-"
"How long have you been able to do this?" Riju suddenly demanded, scowling at Zelda's golden mark. "Why give us our Beasts only to take them away?"
Even Sidon looked conflicted. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said with a frown, "I have to agree - will you even return them to us?"
"I don't know," Zelda could feel herself shrinking from them, wishing now she had sat in her throne after all.
"When it is safe," Link said, shooting her a concerned look. "Then and not before."
He sidled in close so that their shoulders kissed. An invisible encouragement, I am here.
"Well, we were content to never wake ours," bemoaned Bludo. "I don't know why you gave it to Yunobo, to be honest!"
"H-hey I was just… I'm sorry!" The young Goron looked shocked just to hear his own name. "I wanted to protect the Castle, honest, and-"
"You should have left the Beasts as they were!" Bludo argued, and Zelda saw Riju and Kaneli nod in agreement. "You should never have interfered! We were just fine before-"
"Enough!" A shout thundered across the throne room from the back wall, and the crowd shifted towards its source; Inglis of Akkala, his face stern and determined, marching across the planks to stand by Zelda's side. "Listen to yourselves!" he scolded them. "You have nothing but complaints. Link and Zelda made a choice that saved you all, and still you bicker!
The crowd before him were stunned and open-mouth - though at the back of the room, Zelda saw Aurelia smiling. Inglis went on, "I've heard their story. Many of you know parts of it. All the ways they helped you, without asking for anything in return," He looked back to Link with a wry smile. "And I know it's easy to lie. But I believe their story, and I know they're the only thing holding this place together."
No one spoke, until Teba stepped forward.
"I believe as well," he said. With a scowl, he turned back towards the other Champions. "You lived your whole lives without those Beasts. They don't bring in food, they don't keep your families warm. We're alive because they died, simple as that." He pointed towards Link and Zelda. "I stand by their decision."
"As do I!" Sidon surged forward to meet Teba on the planks. "I'm sad to lose Ruta, but at least I know she cannot be a danger."
A large hand shot up from amongst the Gorons. "You-you know what! Me too!" Yunobo suddenly piped up. "It was fun while it lasted. But Rudania brought us more trouble than good. He's gone now, Bludo, isn't he? That's what you wanted."
The little Chief was the last to walk forward. She gave them a conceding, yet assured look. "Maybe I don't agree, but I understand. What other way was there to end it?"
"I would do more than agree," Inglis address the crowd, and before Zelda could speak, he went to his knees. "If for no other reason than they are our best hope for something better than 'just fine'." The look in his eyes was an apology; was he bowing or begging? Zelda barely had enough time to decide, for Inglis was not done.
"I would support them as the rulers of Hyrule," Inglis peered over his shoulder towards the Yiga woman at the back wall. "I know I am not alone."
Aurelia was the first to join him, as she had pledged to do. Soon, Teba followed, and then Sidon, and Larella, as with Zelda's own constituents, and the Sheikah too. Leop was next, as were Riju and Buliara until finally, Kaneli and even Bludo were on their knees.
Zelda sensed Link shift, and lower, but she seised his arm. "No, don't," she whispered with disbelief. "They're not bowing to me. They're bowing to us."
"Us," Link breathed. "But I'm not-"
She gave his hand a squeeze. "Afraid, are you?"
Link shook his head, a smile broadening on his face. "Never," he assured her. "Never, if I'm with you."
Her voice booming through the hall, Zelda addressed the people before her.
"Stand then, if this is your wish," she bid them - the once disparate denizens of a Kingdom lost, now hers and Link's in earnest - and when they stood, they stood as one.
There was to be no coronation. Zelda found her father's account of his own coronation in his journal. Rhoam had little to say about the event: superfluous was all he called it, but necessary. But with no court priest or officiator to conduct the proceedings, Zelda determined that necessary was a subjective term. Hyrule did not need that she wear a crown; Hyrule needed to be rebuilt.
The summit lasted another week. As King, Sidon officially announced the retreat of the Zora from the conflict, and with Chief Riju, ended the war between the East and the South. Zelda pardoned Elder Kaneli and the Rito for their involvement with Cinelgen, and Bludo announced that he had forgiven the Kingdom as a whole for 'this whole mess you lot made!'
Even Leop of Hateno Village congratulated Zelda on the success of the summit.
"I see now that I was wrong to assume you required Hateno to assist you," he apologised. "I will speak favourably of you to my people, and do not fret. Your Kingdom will grow."
Impa sought Link and Zelda out privately, grandiose speeches not being of her character. "Your father would be proud this day, Zelda," the elder informed her, adding mournfully. "Despite what we have lost."
Indeed all had lost something in the years since the Calamity. So in veneration, she took the four races of Hyrule to the Sacred Grounds and lit a pair of blue and white lanterns in memory for their fallen Champions, and any others they had lost. She held her own white lantern close in hand; it was her Father and Mother, her baby brother, and Lexo the Bard as well. And Link's blue lantern was his family and his friends, his Guardian, and the memories he would never recover. And at last, they all hung their lanterns in a tree together; an array of stars added to an already full sky.
And soon the horses were saddled once again, and the wagons were readied for the summiteers to depart. United was a concept; the people of Hyrule still had homes at the corners of the world. United, in truth, would take time. Even Aurelia, whose people had no home, could not be convinced to stay. They would find their own place, in time, and assist Zelda by living well and creating no chaos as so many of their forebears had.
Of those ready to depart, Zelda sought Teba and Larella. She met them at the Gates as around them the Castle was abuzz with activity, the sound of chatter and neighing and adventure floating through the air.
"There is work here if you want it," Zelda told them, not wanting to waste time tip-toeing around the subject. "Plainly, I am asking you to remain, and assist me in rebuilding my home."
Larella's refusal was immediate, and earnest - which made it all the worse. She took Zelda's hands in her own long, jewelled fingers and said, "I know I made a promise, but we must secure the Domain. Sidon needs me as well. Perhaps… in time."
"Time. I understand," Zelda nodded, biting her lip to keep from frowning. She mustered a smile. "Hurry home then, Larella. You help us by helping your King."
"Of course," The Ambassador said with a curtsey, before excusing herself to continue preparing her horse for the journey home.
"Well, I can't say I'm any less doubtful," Teba admitted once she had gone. "You know me. Not a fan of change."
"I do know you," Zelda smiled. She placed a hand on her chest and focused her power. Soon an orb of light was collecting in her hand, whiter and brighter than snow. "Link thought it would make more sense if I passed this onto you. It belonged to an old friend, you see, and now, it belongs to a new one."
Apprehensively, Teba gingerly took the ball of light into his own wingtips. "What is this?"
"A power belonging to the Champions of old. Riju and Sidon already have theirs. We passed Yunobo's onto Bludo since Yunobo technically already carries that power…" her voice trailed off, until Teba somewhat daringly pressed the light into his chest. "It's a gale, Teba. Revali's Gale."
At that moment, a column of air sprung up around the warrior. He opened his wings, letting the updraft ruffled his feathers. "Thank you, Zelda," he smiled once the gale had dissipated. "This gift is an honour."
"Ah - It's not just a gift. It's a trade."
Teba raised his brows, and Zelda allowed herself a single moment of weakness to plead,
"Stay, Teba. I need people here," she urged him, the words and their sincerity coming out in a rush.
The warrior was caught off guard by her sincerity. He shook his head, "You don't need me as an advisor. I'm old and too-"
"Blunt? Good!" Zelda said. "I don't want an advisor. I want a friend. Someone to keep me sane, and make sure I'm not doing anything stupid."
Teba chuckled at that, "It'd be blind leading the blind there."
"I'm serious," she chided him. "Before what happened with the Beasts, you could have remained home with Medoh. But now…" Zelda wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing the wool of her Rito coat. "He doesn't need you anymore. But I do."
She saw his guarded expression falter, but it did not break. "And what of Link? Isn't he a friend?"
"Link is...I love him, I do," Zelda admitted. She took a moment to see if she could spot her partner amongst the crowd. Likely he is elsewhere, at his own work.
"But…" Teba said slowly.
"But we both know what love does to fair judgement," Zelda finished, casting Teba a sly smile.
The pair exchanged a weighty look, understanding clear between them. The warrior shrugged, conceding. "We sure do," he sighed. After a moment's contemplation, as the bustle of the Castle flower around them, he said, "My family will stay with me."
"Naturally," Zelda agreed. "Saki was once an advisor to Kaneli, wasn't she? She could be in my employ here then. And Tulin can learn to shoot or sew, or anything he wants."
The warrior copied her in taking in their surroundings; the decayed castle, the empty town beyond the gates, the people now under Zelda's rule.
"I get an official title?" he asked.
"I'd name you Battlemaster if I had any fighters."
"Everyone is a fighter when it comes to it," Teba told. "Battlemaster will do just fine."
In the last of his journal entries, King Rhoam had begun to address his writings to his daughter. Perhaps he knew that a wedge had been driven between them and wanted in some way to reach her, or perhaps he was merely collating the knowledge he knew he needed to pass on. Zelda read every single letter and knew that even in death, he was never far from her. Her forgiveness was without question now, despite everything. It was the only way she could find a place for Rhoam in her heart.
A Kingdom is a forest, Zelda, her father had written. It grows slowly and is never truly complete.
Where it had once been scattered, Hyrule began to grow into a whole; a place with wide roads and new villages and cautious but enthusiastic residents. All could be rebuilt. All of it could be what it had been, more than what it had been. The Hyruleans were a people with a century of wandering to their name, and they called for a home. They called for a place to stand still, to leave a mark, to become something more than a face on the road. Link and Zelda dedicated themselves to in all waking hours to forging that place.
North to south, east to west; Letters soared across the Kingdom as Kaneli set his Rito to expanding the courier network. At any one moment, their vibrant feathers could be spotted on the horizon. Zora's Domain was soon reopened; regular correspondence from Larella told of Sidon's fledgeling but spirited reign, and also invited them to save the date for the new year's Champion's Day, which was now only a few months away. Letters from Chief Riju had too reached the Castle; construction had already begun on a new bridge. We are considering naming it after Naboris, she had written.
With the conflict ended, trade recommenced across Hyrule, much to the relief of Dr Purah in particular, who had written to Zelda to personally thank her. Short of starting my own quarry, I was running out a ways to acquire the rare gems I need for my research, her letter said. You ought to stop by and see it for yourself.
Word from Goron City reached Link and Zelda as well; they were doing well as usual and had nothing special to report. But this is the way the boss likes it, Yunobo had added. So don't worry about us!
Even Aurelia took the time to write. It was a short note; Settled near Tarrey Town for now. Been raining for nearly a week. Tell the Akkalan his home is even drearier than he is.
Closer to home, work soon began on the plans for the new Castle Town, with Hudson of Tarrey Town himself making the journey to Hyrule Castle to assess the work needed.
"Supplies!" he'd exclaimed. "You're going to need half a Kingdom's worth of supplies! Hope you've got a good axe!"
Link and Zelda could barely catch their breath. They left Teba and Inglis in charge of the Castle as they travelled to search for the last remaining signs of Malice. With each Ritual, Zelda continued to look for the memory that the hooded woman had spoken of. Your Knight struggles with himself, she had said. There is something he must see.
Wielding the power of the Other Place was difficult at first; there was so much time that finding anything to focus on was a feat in of itself. She started with pieces that she could remember; her own childhood, and then her time with Link before the Calamity, searching further and further, exploring memories that belonged to family, and then friends, and then strangers.
"Link spoke of his Father," Zelda explained to the hooded woman. "I'm sure that one of his memories is the key. But I don't even know what he looks like…"
"That is a requirement, unfortunately," the hooded woman said. "This is an archive, true, but like any library, one must know where to look."
The answer came in a stopover in Hateno Village. Zelda wanted to discuss with Leop the possibility of building a mountain pass so that Necluda could be more easily accessed from Lanayru. Link, on the other hand, had the fantastical idea of building a tunnel rather than a pass, excavating the rocks with nothing other than the still functional Sheikah Slate and its remote bombs. Leop was hesitant but agreed so long as he wouldn't have to be in the tunnels himself.
The trip offered them a week in the quiet town, and while they were there, Link decided to clean out his Hateno Home for the first time since he'd purchased it. Zelda was helping him empty out one of the sheds behind the house, listening to him prattle on about what type of bombs to use for the tunnel, and whether the Gorons could be convinced to aid the construction when suddenly he fell silent.
His hands were clutched around a small portrait, no bigger than his palm. It was faded, the wood nearly rotted away, but the picture had been preserved by the glass, and when Zelda looked, she saw a young Hylian couple with a baby boy; his hair an ashen blonde, and his eyes bright blue.
"Father..." Link whispered. "Mother…"
He pressed the portrait to his chest, rocking gently back and forth. "I don't even know your names," he muttered. "I'm so sorry…"
Zelda wrapped herself around him, holding him tight - what little her affection could do - until finally he allowed himself to be held, and collapsed into her embrace.
"Did they suffer?" he wondered, breathing long and low. "Were they even alive at all when it happened?"
"Whoever they were, I am certain they would be proud of you," Zelda assured him, rubbing circles into his back.
"Would they?" Link challenged, pulling himself free. He looked down at the portrait as though it were an affront. "All I can remember of my father is how disappointed he was in me, and I can't remember anything about my mother. I'm not even an orphan, Zelda. I'm no one."
"You are not no one," Zelda said firmly. Link slumped forward, dejected, gripping the portrait so tight Zelda though he might break it. She brought him close to her once more, gently taking the picture from his hands and setting it aside.
"It wasn't fair," she soothed. "You were never allowed to grieve."
"How can I grieve a stranger?"
At first, she had no answer; Link's loss was two-fold to hers - he'd lost his loved ones and their memory. But she recalled the cycle of being that the hooded woman had shown her - the eternal fate she and Link were bound to, and the lives they would live once this life was done.
"The way you would grieve a loved one," she eventually answered. "With sincerity, and the knowledge that with every loss comes a triumph."
Zelda looked down at the face of Link's father, rendered crisp and clean despite the age of the portrait, certain now of how to help him.
Their path across Hyrule would have made a fine lattice; on horse, on foot, Link and Zelda travelled as far north as the Thyphlo Ruins and as far and south as Lurelin Village itself. The residents of the little fishing village were blissfully - and somewhat thankfully - unaware of the developments to the north.
"King and Queen, are you?" Elder Rozel had said when Link casually mentioned taking residence in Hyrule Castle. He was a small man, with an air constant ease. "Well, good luck to you! We'll be here if you need anything."
No matter how far they travelled, Zelda decreed that they return to the Castle as often as possible. Each time they did, Link was glad to find some small progress was made. After the first month of Summer, the debris had been cleared from the Castle. After the second, a great, circular stone slab had been cut and carried from a quarry in Lanayru, and now the floor of the throne room was repaired. And by the end of Summer, plans for the new Castle Town were made, and in addition, it seemed that at last, all of the Malice that remained in Hyrule had been destroyed. Link had lost count of the number of Cleansing Rituals he and Zelda had performed. They had begun to lose their wonder too - becoming as mundane as saddling his horse or setting a fire.
Once they had determined that their work with the Malice was complete, Link decided upon a final place to take the Master Sword and turned his horse north. Zelda did not question the choice, only asked why now.
Why now? Link would draw the Sword, take a whetstone to its blue-tinged blade, and was for a moment unsure. The Sword had been his for over one hundred years. Its soul was his soul; its song his song. But the song was sadder now, and the courage it once brought was bittersweet. Hyrule could rebuild, become greater than it once had been. But it would not be their Hyrule, that they had lost in the Calamity. The Sword was part of that Kingdom too, Link felt.
Once the air of the Lost Woods cleared and the mangled trees with trunks of screaming faces gave way to solid evergreens entwined with snaking vines, the Korok Forest opened out before them. The flowers in the forest meadow were in full bloom, soft music emanating from the little village. Shielded from the sun, the air between the trees was cool - a welcome respite from the summer heat. Link could not help but grin when he saw the wide-eyed masks of the Koroks who watched them as they approached, and heard their hushed whispers. Swordsman. Princess. Here again.
The Deku Tree seemed to smile when he saw them, the deep lines of his carved face shifting with reverent delight.
"Ah, well now. It is not characteristic of a tree to feel impatience," he said. Link felt the depth of the tree's voice in his chest. "But I was anxious to see you both before me, I admit."
At his side, Zelda was beaming up at the ancient tree. "I am glad to have kept my promise," she laughed. "And especially glad to see that all is well here."
"The Koroks have whispered of the conflict, and its end," the tree mused. His weathered face grew even more solemn if that was possible. "Hyrule can now heal, after so long. But if I may ask, what has brought you before me?"
With unsteady hands, Link began to unbuckle the Master's Sword from his chest. "We have come to return the Sword," he said, fighting through his doubt.
"But this Sword is a part of you, is it not?" the Deku Tree asked, unhelpfully.
Link clutched the blue and gold scabbard tight in his hands, feeling as though they had turned to stone. He had been so sure, but now that the moment had come...
"Ganon is gone, and Cinelgen is dead," Zelda answered for him. "The Sword was an honour, not a gift."
Link took a steadying breath; the decision had been made, even if parting with the Sword left a hollow in his chest.
"I am the Sword's Master, but it is not my slave," he told the tree, preparing to remove the Sword from its scabbard.
"An admirable observation," the Deku Tree agreed. "Proceed then. The Koroks and I will watch over the Master Sword for when its time comes again. And we will forever be here, should you need respite."
"Forever?" Link questioned. He looked down at the Sword. "Nothing is forever."
"Ah, perhaps not," the tree chuckled. "But wisdom and memory make mortal lives eternal. I will remain, as will your friends and lost loved ones, so long as we are not forgotten. The Beasts must sleep for now, but perhaps not forever."
It was not a question Link had dared to broach with Zelda. Will you ever wake them up - and my beast with them? When she had not protested the plan to return the Sword, he thought that meant she never would.
Zelda placed a hand on the scabbard. "Perhaps, in time, we will wake them. When Hyrule is truly whole. I do not consider them lost just yet."
Link looked back at the Sword; he thought about all the days he had carried it, all the things he remembered and all of the things he could not. The Sword had seen them all, and so maybe nothing was ever really gone.
With deftness and purpose, Link drew the Sword from its hilt. He offered it to Zelda to take in hand with him, and together, they held it over the pedestal, and slowly lowered it into its rest.
"Thank you," Link whispered before letting go. Already a part of him felt as though it were fading; a chant or a song or a familiar warmth, he wasn't sure, but something had left him then. His hands felt cold.
Zelda had yet not released the Sword. She kept her right hand wrapped tight around the diamond-patterned held, and held out her left for him. "Before we go, Link, I have something I need to show you."
There was an other-worldly purpose in her voice. The golden crest on her hand was shining brightly, so bright that he could see its light reflected in her eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly.
She extended her hand forward, willing him to take it. "You will see."
Were it anyone else, he might have hesitated. But it was Zelda before him, and so without fear, Link placed his hand in hers, and with the suddenness of blinking, he was someplace else.
At first, it had no form. The light was everywhere here. Soon, he could make out shapes and colours. Where was I? What was I? He let himself be momentarily overwhelmed until framed by an orange-gold backdrop he saw Zelda standing before him, her figure fading into clarity. He stood on a stone platform and taking in his surroundings, he saw a glass pedestal before them, and an endless dusk sky.
"Where are we?" he said, startled by the crispness of his own voice. Zelda had her hand in his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. She was holding the Master Sword.
"Somewhere once sacred," she explained. "Someplace outside of time."
"What does that mean?"
"All moments exist here as one, passing through like clouds," she gestured to the shining sky, and the long wisps of clouds lofting high above. "I've been coming here since my powers awoke. Unknowingly. The Sword is the key, as is the song. And as my powers grew, finding this place became easier, and now I have been able to bring you with me," she let go of his hand and took a step towards the pedestal.
"You said… you needed to show me something?" Link said as he followed her, his memory returning. They had been in the forest, but it felt impossibly far away now.
With a nod, Zelda placed her right hand on the pedestal, "Link - forget nothing of what you see, and do not be afraid. Although," she added with a giggle. "Knowing you…"
In a flash, Zelda, the pedestal, and everything around Link fell away, replaced then by... the study of Battlemaster Otra's, in Hyrule Garrison. It was unmistakable - Link recognised the sparse furniture and strong smell of leather oil instantly - but it was also impossible.
Still, Otra of Old Lurelin sat at his desk in his study beside a tall window that overlooked the training yard below. Link heard the clanging of steel and shouting voices. It seemed so real. Is this another memory?
The Battlemaster was attending to some paperwork, hurriedly scrawling out a report. Standing before him, dressed in the full regalia, with silvery blonde hair pulled loosely into a low ponytail, was a Hylian Knight.
Link could not stop himself. "Father!" he called out, rushing forward, but the Knight did not turn. Neither man seemed to hear. Across the room, Link caught sight of Zelda standing against the far wall, the Master Sword still in hand, and he knew. This is a vision.
"How could you do this, Otra?" His father demanded. Link could not move; in the portrait, his father seemed otherworldly, mythic. But here he was real, just a man, with blue eyes like his. They were almost the same height, though Link was not quite as tall as his father.
The Battlemaster had stopped writing.
Micah," he began, and Link's breath caught in his throat as he heard his father's name. "There's nothing you can do. Link has already departed north for the Forest."
His father was incensed. "You know what they will do, don't you? If he returns, they will make him their Champion!"
Otra stood from his chair, clearly agitated, though his voice was strangely calm. "Doesn't that make you proud, then? Your own son, receiving an honour only found in legend."
"Aye, and be bound to that Princess for the rest of his life," his father countered "What little he may have left!"
Otra scoffed, leaning his hands onto his desk. "Calamity Ganon's return is a rumour," he punctuated the word by slapping his hands against his paperwork. "Nothing more. I've said that enough to bloody Rhoam, let alone you!"
Micah squared up to him, pointing an accusing finger. "You are not a fool, Otra. We have cursed ourselves by resurrecting those Beasts and those automatons. It may not be Ganon that destroys Hyrule, but if they name my son Champion, he will be first to fight whatever tries to!"
"Have you no faith in his ability?" Otra almost laughed. "I trained him myself - if I am no fool, then Link cannot be one either."
The old knight had nothing to say then. Micah brought a gloved hand to his face, rubbing his wrinkle-lined eyes, and sighed, leaning against Otra's desk, "I just… I wanted something different for my son. Ever since Rowan…"
Rowan. That was her name, Link thought, remembering his mother. She was there all at once; a plain and pragmatic woman, with long blonde hair and freckled skin. She wore the elegant clothes expected of a Knight's wife, though her hands were bare of jewels, and her face hardened from years of scowling. She was a teacher too, Link recalled, in Hateno. They had lived in a cottage together on the far side of the river until Link was old enough to begin his training as a Knight. Micah and Rowan, Link mouthed the names, but they did not seem real. They didn't seem like they were his.
Micah went on. "I thought my son could become a knight like me, marry and find happiness in a family and in service as I had. I was convinced that was his destiny. But I never saw my family as much as I wanted. Always travelling around, always training, always off to combat some new threat... And so when Rowan died... I realised. What if I'd doomed my son to a life he may not even have chosen?"
Otra joined his friend and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Link is my most dedicated student, my best fighter. If he didn't want this, he would have given up years ago."
"I've been trying to tell him this for a while. But I'm not the best talker, you know me. It comes out as orders. I'm too much a guard captain," Micah pushed off from the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. He wielded a shield and longsword, Link saw and had a crossbow at his hip. A crossbow! And one of finer make than Link's was. He almost cheered, and opened his mouth to ask, may I have a look? until he remembered that he could do no more than watch.
"As is your son now!" Otra grinned. "Captain of Princess Zelda's guard."
"But what if he could have been more? His first Hinox kill, for example," his father went on. "Most knights equip themselves with their best weapons and armour, purchase a few elixirs and leap headfirst into the battle, often coming back with some angry bruises and maybe a broken bone," His father's stern face brightened with a toothy smile. "Well, do you know how my son decided to earn his knighthood, Otra?"
"Of course I do," The Battlemaster laughed.
I don't! Link wanted to shout. Help me remember, please!
His father revelled in telling the story regardless. "He didn't even wear armour. He took some rusty old swords from the armoury and found a Hinox that lived in Hyrule Ridge. He camped for almost a week waiting for a storm to come, and just before the thunder began, snuck his cache of metal swords to beast's side, and just... waited. Not a minute later, boom! Lightning struck right where he'd left the swords, and killed the Hinox like that," Micah clicked his fingers and burst into laughter. "My Link came away without a scratch!"
My Link. My son. Link felt as though he could burst. He was someone's son.
"He's more cunning than the average knight, I'll give him that," Otra admitted. "Perhaps you can see now why he was chosen? Whatever he faces, he will not be brash. And fret not, my friend - we don't even know that the Sword will accept him."
Link saw a twinkle in his father's familiar sapphire eyes. "I know my son, Otra," he said decisively. "He will come back with that sword,"
Micah turned towards the window, looking out at the training yard below, and across time, father and son stood eye to eye. Link reached out, trying to grasp onto his father somehow. To make him whole, and here, and alive.
"Do you really think - is he happy, Otra?" Micah asked.
"I am, Father." Link said aloud. "I am," and somewhere within him, Link decided to believe that his father might have heard.
The Battlemaster just shrugged, and the old knight sighed. Link joined his father in gazing down at the training yard. If he held still… it almost felt real. Below knights in training were sparring, scuttling back and forth across the mud with their wooden swords in hand.
"Do you understand then, Link?" Zelda said, shattering the illusion. She crossed the room towards the window. "Your father sees what I see."
"That I could be more?"
Zelda nodded. Beside them, Micah continued to watch the training, while Otra had returned to his paperwork.
"Hyrule needs more than just fighters," Zelda explained. "It needs people - whole people - with strength, and spirit, and cunning. I believe wholeheartedly that if I hold all three virtues, then you must as well, in your own way."
Link looked at his father and studied the lines on his ageing face. "The voice I've been hearing… it wasn't his."
Zelda cocked her head to the side. "Oh, really? Then whose?"
"A dozen voices, maybe mostly my own. But not his. My father wanted something different for me... And maybe I just remembered it wrong," Link reached down and took Zelda's hand in his own, bringing it to his lips. "You found this, didn't you? To help me?"
She held his hand tight. "Of course. I'd do anything if it meant you could be happy, Link. It's the only thing I've always wanted, from before to now."
Link kissed her hand; once, twice, wanting to bundle her up and never let go, soon finding that he was smiling from ear to ear. "Thank you for showing me this, Zel," he said warmly. An old idea was stirring in his mind once more; it seemed now he had the confidence to chase it. "I think... I think I know what to do now."
Zelda allowed him one last look at his father, and his teacher, and with their hands entwined once again, she took them both home.
Once he was sure of his plan, Link told it to Zelda as though proposing a trade deal. She promised to divulge it to no one; he wanted to be the first to tell their allies back at the Castle.
"I think it's a good plan," Zelda assured him. That was all Link needed to hear; her approval solidified his intent, and he stood taller and smiled brighter than she had seen all summer.
It had been nothing short of blissful, being on the road with Link once more. Their days had been spent at ease; walking, and talking, or not talking at all, pointing out interesting sights and landmarks, rare flowers and Bokoblin camps, some still inhabited. They fell into a rhythm that bordered on domestic. Zelda could not remember a time when she hadn't awoken in Link's arms, or when she . His presence was inherent now; they ate together, travelled together, slept and even trained together. Zelda's aim soon rivalled even Link's, and he jeered that she had an unfair advantage by wielding a Rito bow, so she proved her ability by challenging him to an archery contest - using only his crossbow. When she shot twice as many bullseyes as he did, Link at last conceded that she had a talent, and a good eye.
"Not just one, but two, and the most beautiful I've ever seen," he crooned.
She gave him a playful shove and chided, "You had better be talking about my eyes."
They returned to Hyrule Castle at the end of Summer to find it a bustle of activity; Hudson and had knocked down the old structures of Castle Town and were marking out the plots for the new builds. Rito couriers and traders were coming and going from all directions, Hyrule Castle having become a favourite pit stop in their travels. And curious travellers were beginning to flock to their gates, having learnt that it was finally safe to explore the once harrowing Castle Grounds. A new stable had even been built outside Castle Town, the horse head effigy a fond and familiar sight on the horizon.
When they passed through the gates, Link and Zelda found they were not the only ones arriving at the Castle. Lady Larella was visiting on a short diplomatic trip from Zora's Domain. They greeted her friends with laughter and stories of the road, stopping by the Gatehouse to keep out of the way.
"How are the repairs going?" The Ambassador asked, passing her wide yellow eyes over the Castle with a sad smile.
"Here? Slowly," Zelda said, though it was easy to remain optimistic. "But the first of the work is always slow. Any news from the Domain?"
Larella laughed nervously. "Oh, no. Sidon is Sidon, and even with a new King, the Zora change so little," she threaded a fretting hand along one of her jewels, sighing, "You know, it's almost mundane."
After a welcome, warm supper and a happy reunion with Teba and his family, Zelda helped Link gather their closest allies - Teba, Larella and Inglis - into her father's old study to make the announcement. He stood before them with his hands at his back and told them his plan in full, not one to waste words.
"You're going to Akkala!?" Inglis exclaimed once Link was done. He was positively buzzing at the prospect, his face full and bright. "For how long?"
"As long as it takes," Link said plainly. "The Citadel was the stronghold of the Hylian Knights, but it was a settlement too. There is much to rebuild there."
"Such as the Order," Teba surmised.
Link nodded, impressed at the warrior's savvy. "As you say. I'm the last Knight of Hyrule," he looked to Inglis, singling him out with his eyes. "But who knows for how much longer?"
The Akkalan's mouth fell open, and he brought a finger to his chest. "You want me in your order…?"
"You're quick and strong, and I could use someone who knows the land well," Link had told Zelda that he was not sure if his friend would say yes to the proposal - becoming a Knight was no small commitment, and Link recalled Inglis' disdain for the way Cinelgen kept him under his thumb, calling him his squire. "Only if you want to," Link said.
But Inglis' acceptance was immediate. He threw his arms wide and pulled Link into a strong embrace. "Of course!" he grinned. "Say the word, Link, and I'll be there with you."
"But why Akkala? Why not here?" Larella interjected the first to be sceptical. She seemed perturbed by Link's plan, shifting and fidgeting when Link mentioned the Castle repairs.
"Because Akkala is also where Robbie lives, and I'd like to seek him out."
Larella pressed further. "The researcher? Why?"
Turning and sweeping an arm in front of the desk behind him, Link gestured to the trio of items he'd put on display - the crossbow, his journal, and the Sheikah Slate. "I was a fighter all my life, and someone dear to me convinced me I could be more." Surreptitiously, his eyes met Zelda's, and he flashed her an affectionate smile. "And Robbie is an engineer as well as a scholar - so I'd like to take up an apprenticeship with him. Hudson is a decent builder, but the repairs needed here are on an entirely different scale. And even though we've lost the Sheikah technology, I believe there's so much more we haven't discovered."
Teba turned to Zelda. "And you agree with this? He could be away for months, years."
"And what will I be? A pining princess in her castle?" she laughed and shook her head. "I've spent enough time like that. Of course, I agree. We can choose to work apart-"
"-just as we chose to work together," Link finished. There was a certainty between them then, and it felt like fate. Not a great change in the order of things, but a return, and continuation. Zelda took the Sheikah Slate from the desk and handed it to Link.
"You have my blessing," she told him, speaking the words as a command. "Go, and bring prosperity to Hyrule."
Preparations for the trip to Akkala were underway immediately. Link would travel east with Inglis, and then north past Lanayru, carrying a Royal decree to re-establish the order of Hylian knights.
One week before he was set to depart, Zelda took him to Kakariko, citing urgent business with Impa. It would only be a day's worth of travel she assured him, and it would afford him a chance to see Rhoamet once more. For good luck, she added, though Link needed little convincing.
The Guardian sat undisturbed in the graveyard of the Sheikah village, his ancient body gathering moss. Link mournfully placed a hand on the Guardian's husk, tracing the ornate swirls and patterns. "How are you going, buddy?" he asked quietly. "Enjoying the rest?"
He sniffed, fighting down tears, breathing heavily as he wiped his eyes dry. Zelda had been back and forth on her decision for weeks. It had come to her in the days after showing Link, the memory of his father, and she knew perhaps it was a bad decision. That she might regret it, or that the other races of Hyrule would disapprove. But seeing Link's sorrow - how could she deny him this kindness?
"Link," she said sweetly. "There's something I never told you,"
He peered back at her but said nothing, and so she went to his side, and they stood together by Rhoamet's shell as a light rain began to fall.
"When I was with the Rito, Kass was the only one who believed my story, at first."
Still, Link remained silent, but he nodded in understanding.
"He sang me a song," she continued - that made Link turn to face her at last. "He told me the same story he told you. The story of the Hero and the Princess."
Carefully, she began to remove the glove on her right hand. "Kass thought my powers were driven by you; that you and I are bound together, that I must use my abilities in tandem with yours. But I don't think he has the whole picture." She looked towards Rhoamet. "It's like you said - we work together because we choose to."
Holding a hand to the Guardian's cold, ceramic shell, Zelda felt the power in her palm respond. She could feel the warmth building on her skin. "Even so, I have used these powers out of love, many times. But now that we are safe, I can feel them receding. So I have one last wish to use - could I really let you go study with Robbie without your Guardian?"
Link spoke at once, "Zelda, no, you don't-" His words came out as stammers. "H-he could be...could be vulnerable."
She cupped her hand to his cheek to quiet him. "He won't be powered in the same way as before. His core will be silent. But if Kass is right, and my powers really do come from a place of love - then Rhoamet will be incorruptible,"
"You don't have to-"
"Shh, Link. Don't let him see you frown," she chided gently. "Don't you want him to wake to see his master's face and the joy that he brings you?"
Slowly, as she fed her power to him, the Guardian began to stir, his body radiating a soft blue glow. And then he was awake, his single eye unmoving as he beheld them. Slowly, he began to blink. The same repeated pattern, over and over; ● ▬ ● ●, ● ▬ ● ●
Link
"He's saying my name," Link gasped. And then he cheered. "He's saying my name! Aren't you!? Oh, you're so smart!"
Link leapt onto the Guardian, wrapping his arms around its bulky head. The automaton stumbled backwards under Link's weight. "Hey buddy," Link beamed. "Remember me?"
Rhoamet blinked happily, and spun around, drawing a startled cry from Link, followed by peals of laughter. Link leapt down from the Guardian, and raced towards Zelda, sweeping her into his own spinning embrace and giving her a rapturous kiss.
"I love you," he said, the words so rich she felt them. "More than anything, you know that?"
Zelda could do nothing but giggle and kiss him again, in a way that said, of course, and I know, and I do too. But she could not speak. The joy had caught her tongue. Between kisses, Link passed a glance back at Rhoamet, and Zelda sighed.
"Go on then," she said as rolled her eyes, but Link did not tear himself away. Instead, he offered out a hand and helped her climb onto Rhoamet's shell.
"We'll go together," Link said, directing Rhoamet carry them back to the Castle, and Zelda was happy to let them lead.
The town had been transformed. Three rows of tables fifty feet long were laid out in the ruins, and were packed with all manner of food from all across Hyrule; salted fish from Lanayru, char-grilled meat from Eldin, fruits of all kinds and cakes in every colour, spiced dishes from Gerudo that could be hot like fire or cool as ice, and a stew for every season from Hebra. A banner had been hoisted between the old gates, Farewell, Master Link! painted on the canvas. And all through the town, blue and white lanterns signified the importance of the celebration, the reason why half the Kingdom had come to the Castle; it was not just Link's going away, it was Champion Day.
Teba of Lake Totori leaned against a ruined wall, watching the celebration from a comfortable distance. He surveyed the feasters, and the dancers, confident that for now, all was well. Occasionally, he would glance to where his wife and son sat; they were looking at a lantern together. Teba whispered a prayer of thanks to the Goddess each time he beheld them.
As the night waned, he was joined away from the fray by Kass. The bard was carrying his accordion in arm as always and gave Teba a curt nod in greeting, before beginning to tap away at the keys. It was a tune Teba had not heard.
"New song?" he asked.
The bard paused and nodded. "Indeed. A new song for a new era."
"Given it a name?"
The bard shot him a knowing look. "Of course," he answered. "The Trio. The Princess, the Knight, and their loyal Guardian,"
Teba chuckled at the bard's wistful tone. "Wouldn't that be nice - immortalised in song? I haven't done much that's memorable, though."
"Ah - but a song is just a memory, my friend, captured and kept," Kass smiled, holding his accordion close. "To build a legend from nothing more than single moments."
"Living legends – that's definitely one way to describe those kids," Teba agreed. Among the fray, he could see them - Link and Zelda, hand in hand, dancing to some rambunctious, brassy number belted out by a band of Goron musicians. From this distance, they really did look like kids - youthful and carefree - perhaps for the first time since he'd met them. Their Guardian was sitting happily to the side, being doted on by some curious children.
Kass had returned to practising his new song - another waltz. The friends stood together in the fading light, surrounded by peace in a place that was finally beginning to feel like a home. Teba listened contentedly as Kass sung his song, and ushered in a new age for Hyrule.
A/N: And another thing - the epilogue will go up on Sunday afternoon/night! Thank you again everyone for your support. This work could not be what it is without you.