The winter gradually starts to thaw over the following weeks; the snow melts into the grass and buds begin to creep up from the frozen ground.
Sir Victor recovers from his influenza (upsettingly) but his relationship with His Majesty is not so easily remedied. There is also an uneasiness in the relationship between Impa and Her Majesty since their dispute over the forbidden document. Their conversations are often stale due to Impa's unreceptiveness.
Impa frequently finds herself seeking solitude in the Castle courtyard, contemplating her mere existence amongst the spring flowers under the rising sun. Did her tribe condone the use of torture? Where is this supposed 'mausoleum' which Sir Victor speaks of? Who died there?
"Boo!"
A child's voice jolts her from her peace. She turns around and sees the soft face of Sherifu gazing up at her with a smile. He looks healthy and happy; a stark contrast to their last encounter.
"Hey there!" she says brightly. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"
"I didn't want to disturb you while you were working, so I thought I might catch you at breakfast." he says, brushing a bee from the brim of his hat. "I have something for you."
He opens his palm and presents her with a violet magnifying glass, adorned with three scarlet prongs on the top. Its lens shimmers iridescently, blue and red. Could this be the fabled item told in Sheikah legends?
"The elders call it a Lens of Truth." Sherifu says. "Apparently it can see ghosts and stuff!"
Impa cannot believe her eyes: such a precious heirloom that had been used by only the most esteemed member of the tribe for observing the invisible. She holds it close to her chest and ruffles her brother's hair.
"Thanks, Sherifu."
"They said you deserved it as a gift for helping us out these past few months," he beams. "And I agree with them!"
Impa's heart melts at the sight of his smile. However, she cannot escape the intrusive thought that rattles around her mind: were they the heirs of a family of violence and blood? Were they destined to fulfil their ancestors' places in the field of covert operations and intelligence gathering through despicable means?
She shakes the thought from her head and ushers the youngster out of the courtyard. "You must be going now! I have errands to run!"
"I'll see you soon, won't I Impa?" he asks sweetly.
She sighs with a smile. "Soon. Now, go!"
She watches him scurry across the grass and dive headfirst into a hedge, which no doubt conceals one of his many secret passageways. Impa casts her eyes down to the enchanted heirloom in her hands. Did this gift make up for the suffering they inflicted? Or perhaps it is a prompt…
