Disclaimer and other notes can be found in the first chapter.

VII.

A long time passes before you're able to look away from the passageway.

You have no idea how you're supposed to feel. This is what you wanted for so long, for all those months you tried to escape Termina and, later, all those months you forced yourself to let it go. This is what you fought almost desperately for back then.

You could walk through the passageway and make it back to Hyrule. It would be a long climb up the tree you fell through, but the Skull Kid was able to do it, and so, presumably, was the Happy Mask Salesman, so it's possible, isn't it?

Yet, how can you? Your life is here. Could you really walk away from everything?

"Is this it?" Romani asks.

You glance at her. She's staring at the passageway stretching out ahead as though she has never seen anything of the like. It twists rather like the corridors of the Forest Temple and nowhere else you've seen, so she likely hasn't, but something in her gaze tells you that it's not simply the new visual entrancing her.

"It's so … strange …" she whispers. "The place you came from … is on … the other side …?"

She takes a step forward, and then another, and you quickly put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She stares back at you as you shake your head and seems to snap back to herself in an instant.

"But …" she says, confused, "… isn't this what you wanted …?"

That is the question, you think, isn't it? You could very likely go back. But what would come of everyone left behind? What would come of Romani: your wife, your best friend, the love of your life?

Could she go back through the passageway? Yet isn't she –

The thought terrifies you to even consider, so you don't. You instead turn around and leave the tower, Romani hurrying behind you.

And the passageway remains open.

It was easy, over the years, to put the matter out of your mind of Termina, and what it may or may not be.

Distractions were plenty, of course. The ranch has grown over the years, as have your own duties in its running; Cremia relies on your help more often now as her focus begins to shift from the daily tasks towards potentially having a child. Plus, of course, you and Romani are now building a life together as well, and everything that comes with that.

But in all the time that's passed, you've never forgotten what you saw all those years ago.

If you close your eyes, you can still see the world crumbling into a void under your feet. The sound of rushing water still crashes against your eardrums. Even the parting words of the turtle still echo in your mind.

All those years ago, it told you that you must come to terms with yourself. You have never really known what that meant, and yet you are sure you must have done so, with the life you have carved for yourself with Romani and the old obsession you shelved when you'd finally felt you had no choice but to do so.

Is this what the turtle meant? Is that why the passageway has reopened?

It's a question, you understand, that you need an answer for, if you're ever to leave this alone again.

Romani is understanding about your silence as you work through this.

Of course, she is, you think. She alone has the words you've explained to her in addition to the memories restored in her to come to terms with your past. It isn't her understanding that surprises you, but her patience, and you love her all the more for it.

There was a time when you might have been willing to leave her behind, if it meant making it home to Hyrule. But that time, if ever it truly was, is long past.

So, on a day you are free to leave the ranch, and with some hesitation, you play the Song of Soaring and return to Zora Hall, and the turtle, for the first time in years. The notes of the New Wave Bossa Nova echo across the waters from the guitar of the Zora, now equitable in height to your regular body, and the turtle awakens and bursts from the water.

"Hello again, Link."

It blinks and stretches its neck as you return to your natural body.

"I see that a great deal of time has passed since we last spoke," it says, taking you in with an unfathomable gaze. "You have grown, warrior." It blinks again. "Although I suppose you are no longer a warrior, are you? You have the look of one who has achieved peace."

You shrug. It's difficult to deny that one, when several years have passed since your last big battle.

It isn't a total retirement. You still battle them – the Ethereals, you've taken to calling them – on that night leading up to the Carnival of Time every year, but even that does not worry you anymore: you and Romani battle them together now, a bow in each hand, and they have never got close to the barn before the first rays of the sun zap them away for another year.

But the big battles are behind you. All four regions of Termina are now clear of evil, and the last major fight you were involved in was probably the clearing of Great Bay, the last of those battles.

"I sense you have questions for me," says the turtle. "I assume they are an extension to the topic we last spoke of?"

You nod, and hesitate for a moment, and then you tell it all you have thought and concluded about what has happened.

"Ah," it says when you finish speaking. "So, you have succeeded in coming to terms with all you are. I am pleased to hear it, Link." It tilts its head, considering. "Have you come to understand what Termina truly is, then?"

You believe you have, but all you truly have are guesses and speculation, and you tell it so.

"You are very likely correct," the turtle replies. "Termina is not of the world you have arrived from. It is a … reflection, I suppose, created by the memories and thoughts of a mind from … Hyrule, was it?" It cocks its head, as though pondering this, and you see its eyes glittering just before it nods. "Yes, Hyrule, that's it. Termina was brought to life by that mind, and it can only truly exist while Hyrule anchors it to existence."

It stares at your trembling form with those large, unblinking eyes.

"You, Link, are that anchor. If you were to leave Termina, it would cease to exist."

Silence falls. You don't even realise you have sunk to the ground until you are already sitting, such is your shock.

So, this is the answer, then. It's neither by your will nor that of the gods, that you have been trapped in Termina for so long, that you have not been able to leave it behind and return to Hyrule. It's to ensure that Termina can go on existing. And how could you allow its existence to end, when you struggled so hard and for so long to save it in the first place?

What was it the turtle said all those years ago? 'Do you imagine that your mind is somehow isolated from this realm'? If you are the anchor for this world, then your will must surely be intertwined in the fabrics of its existence.

And, really, is it not? Was it not by your hand, in some way or another, that the turtle and Romani both regained memories that existed only within your own mind?

Yet, why only them, and no one else?

There are still holes in this that you don't understand, and you have found no one in Termina other than the turtle who can account for them. Because you might be the anchor, but how could you be the creator, when it existed before you found it?

"How, indeed?" the turtle says softly when you mumble this. "I see you suspect the truth of the matter: it was not your mind that created this world, Link."

Your eyes widen. If not you, then …

"Yes, it was another from your world who created Termina." The turtle pauses again, staring off into the distance for a moment. "The child, the one you fought over that terrible mask, who brought this world into life and then very nearly destroyed it."

Skull Kid, you remember. The Skull Kid who was possessed by Majora's Mask, and the very same Skull Kid you first met in the Lost Woods and sold a mask to.

"Do you understand now?" asks the turtle, and you force yourself to wait, to ponder later. "A world surrounded on all sides by a void, the only means of escape from which is a tower in a town. More specifically, a tower that is at the exact centre of the town, which is itself at the exact centre of the world. In that world: little to speak of but landmarks in all four compass directions. An annual festival in which masks are of the utmost significance, and an ancient legend in which the child itself is prominently featured, friends of the gods themselves. And a scattering of citizens that, by and large, are shades of those from the world you come from, existing in the background but for your interactions with them.

"An unfinished world, created by the mind of a child, warped by the magic of a monster.

"You were not always the anchor, Link. You became so when you remained the only person in the land of Termina who could exist outside of it, when the child left. That is why you were only able to influence me after your quest."

It's the answer you'd sought for so long, finally laid out before you, and you would give just about anything to not have it.

The only person in the land of Termina who could exist outside of it.

If that's to be believed, then you truly can't leave Termina. You could sacrifice a great many things – you have done, even if only as a child, when things were simpler – and perhaps even make peace with it, but not her. Never her.

The turtle continues staring at you, and it says nothing. It's waiting for you to speak up.

What else can you say, other than the obvious? If you were to leave Termina right here and now, it would cease to exist. That would, of course, include everything – and everyone – in it. All you've come to know and love here. Everything you've built, all that you've fought for, everyone you've connected with.

The question of whether Termina is a real world or not doesn't even matter now. It's real in every way that counts. You've made your life here and put Hyrule behind you.

How could you possibly give up what you've gained for a land where your upbringing was but a comfortable lie and few would be waiting for you? Malon, running her ranch with her father, perhaps even betrothed to someone else by now? Saria, with whom you could never regain what you once had by grand design alone? Princess Zelda, whom you had blamed for so long for putting you in this situation in the first place, no matter how unfair it was to do so?

Navi – and it still hurts to even think it, somehow – who left you without a word, and would always have done, no matter your feelings?

"I sense you have already made your decision," says the turtle.

You nod. It was made a long time ago, really, but you're certain now.

"Be at peace, then, whatever you've decided."

The turtle stretches itself one last time, and its yawn echoes across the water, perhaps even reaching that ungodly waterfall.

"The passageway will remain open until you are certain of your final decision," it says. "I will be here, always, to speak with you if you wish. Should the gods continue to imbue me with the knowledge to do so, and if you should still desire it, I will continue to advise you. Until then, Link, farewell."

And the turtle sinks into the water and falls into its hibernation once more.

It's difficult to describe, when you return home that evening with several bottles of fish, but Romani Ranch feels more lively than usual. Perhaps it's from the weight of what you've learned and decided, or perhaps it's that the Carnival of Time is approaching once again, and with it a few days spent in Clock Town.

Perhaps it's both.

Romani gives you just enough time when you return to store the fish before she takes your hand and drags you back outside. She leads you to the barn and then throws an expectant look at you.

And you tell her everything you've learned.

It isn't clear to you right away, despite how long you've known Romani and how well you've come to read her, what she thinks about what you've told her. She knows about Malon, you have told her all about your previous life, but Malon has always been someone of whom she thinks as separate from herself. To hear that she really is a counterpart of someone else she will never meet must be a strange thing indeed.

She has her own identify, and all the memories of her own life, a perspective she has never had any reason to doubt. Nor have any of them, really. The Deku Scrubs, the Gorons, and possibly even the Zoras, all with their own histories and their own explanations for what now amounts to the limitations of a mortal mind, and the magic that brought it to life.

This is, you think, the last time you really want to think about all this. She seems to agree.

"So, you've made your decision, then?" she says.

You nod. You think of things you could say to explain your decision, but you have always had an easier time of expressing yourself with actions instead of words, so you don't bother with any of them. Instead, you pull her into a tight embrace and kiss her as though you've never kissed her before.

It turns out to be the best answer you can provide. Romani wraps her arms around you and kisses you back, hungrily and perhaps even desperately, and it suddenly occurs to you that she may have had doubts.

It's almost instinctual to say that she shouldn't have, and yet, haven't you as well? This is something that has lingered in the air over the two of you for as long as you've known each other.

At least now it's finally all in the air, and nothing is left unsaid. You can shelve your curiosities, inasmuch as there are any remaining, and put it all behind you for good.

There is no going back now. Termina is your home. You chose it, and you chose her.