Well, look who it is! It's me!

Gosh, I cannot begin to describe how sorry I am for the massive delay on this chapter. I got a bit of it done after the previous one, and promptly fell sick. I get really bad spells of dizziness and incoherence when the weather gets bad, and we've had several storms in my area. Unfortunately, my writing took a back seat while I recovered.

I'm not 100% yet, but I was dying to get this out. I made it quite a bit longer than the last chapter, to hopefully make up for the delay. Again, I am SO SORRY. Forgive me, and enjoy! Thank you for your patience!

The trek up the stairs to Impa's attic resembled a death march to Link, the creaking of each step reminding him of the sickening crack of Dorian's arm. It replayed in his mind in a maddening, monotonous beat, splicing between his ears and making his stomach seethe. Had Cado not been pressuring him forward, he definitely would have leaned over and thrown up. As they climbed, it took every ounce of his willpower to hold himself together, sweat crawling down his temples and his mouth sour with bile.

In the aftermath of his encounter with Dorian, Link's mind and his stomach roiled in a humid maelstrom of horror — horror at both himself, and at the murderous look etched on Dorian's face. The same few words hissed inside his mind, searing into his very brain, and they seemed to be coming from Dorian himself: What have you done, Link?! What have you done?! He fought against the lingering memories of his actions, but he couldn't shake them; they bled into his thoughts, staining them, reminding him incessantly of his monstrous behavior.

It had all happened in such a blur that he could barely even process what lead up to it — Cado taking the Slate, Link struggling against Dorian, something stirring inside him, and then… Dorian was on the other side of the room, wailing in pain, his arm drooping worthlessly into his lap. The thought of it made Link heave, his stomach burning. He honestly didn't remember grabbing Dorian and shoving him aside. It was almost as if someone had hijacked his movements.

He had a horrible feeling he knew who had done it. The realization slithered into his veins like a vile disease, sending a quake down his spine and stuttering his heartbeat. As they climbed past the second floor, the growing darkness seemed to grin with phantoms of Calamity Ganon, surrounding him on all sides and eying him hungrily. He shrunk in on himself in efforts to avoid his hallucinations, his skin itching in the darkness.

Link was so consumed by his position that he didn't notice the approaching ceiling until he had bumped his horns against it. Pausing, he came out of himself and looked over his shoulder to Cado with a frown, unsure of where to go.

Cado, upon noticing Link's eyes on him, stopped several steps below him. He stiffened, muttering, "Open the hatch. The attic is through there."

Though lacking a light to guide him, Link obeyed. He felt around the wood grain above his head, his fingers finding a metal ring. Taking it, he gave it a push, a small door swinging with a squeak over his head, revealing a cavernous, pitch-black square beyond. A breath of cold, stuffy air poured onto him, running over his bone mask and sifting through his hair, sending goosebumps across his skin.

He attempted to squint through the thick darkness, but he was unable to make out what lay in the attic. As anxious as he was, he couldn't help but see more faces coalescing in the shadows: wicked, gleeful faces with horns and fangs, bidding him enter. With those images in his head, he froze, his mind running rampant with visions of what could have lurked beyond.

He was quickly reminded, while staring into the darkness, that he would be spending the night up there. The reminder only served to pump his blood with more paranoia.

Link jumped a little when Cado said, "Well? What are you waiting for? Get up there!" He jabbed the tip of his sword into Link's thigh, spurring him, in spite of his dread, into the shadows.

Willing his heavy feet to move, Link climbed the last few steps and emerged into the attic, his body immediately locking up where he stood. Though the room was blanketed in an empty void, he found with a start that he could faintly make out the objects nearby, though their figures didn't comfort him.

No, it was the abrupt discovery that his bones and eyes became brilliantly luminous in the dark that made him squirm. Without him even wanting them to, his bones autonomously gave off a grisly magenta light, beaming through his skin and highlighting the surrounding objects for him to see.

Eyes adjusting to his own light, he took a look around. Clustered in piles throughout the attic were dust-coated collections of old furniture — tables, cabinets, chairs, and vases, all piled with extra cushions, folded clothes, blankets, lanterns, and conical hats. In the furthest corner, he spotted a dull glint of something hidden under a tarp held down with rocks, though he wasn't able to get a decent look at what it was.

As he ran his glowing eyes over his accommodations, he could only pray that he would catch at least some shred of sleep, though he heavily doubted it. Not with the hysterical fantasies polluting his mind. He wasn't looking forward to spending his first night out of his centuries-long slumber chained up in the dark and forgotten.

Before he could drive himself mad thinking about the night ahead of him, Cado joined him in the attic. He was about to strike a match when he caught sight of the corrupted light emanating from Link, his jaw dropping into his chest. Link, overcome with a wave of shame, turned away his gaze at Cado's gaping, his shoulders slumping. An audible shudder rattled the Sheikah's breath at the unnatural light, but he quickly shook off his awe and returned to his task, dipping his sword into Link's back again.

"Now then, er... this way," he mumbled, pushing him across the creaking floorboards to a corner laden with various odds and ends. Stew pots, frying pans, plates and bowls, mops, buckets. Nothing of use to Link. Or comfortable. It appeared this was to be his bed for the night.

"Sit," Cado ordered, forcing his voice out.

Complying, Link seated himself. His eyes down, he turned his palm over and under, studying his smoldering knuckles. He didn't want to witness Cado's ogling at his oddities, as it only made him all the more uncomfortable in his own skin. But it was all Cado could look at, try as he might to turn away. Link's strange body filled him with a sense of disturbed amazement.

While keeping a wary eye on Link, Cado searched for the shackles Impa had mentioned, but he came up short in the low light. In the meantime, he shocked Link when he proposed, "R-remove all of your belongings. Every pack, every shield, every weapon. Now."

Link's head shot up. Cado couldn't have been serious. His brows crinkling, he replied quietly, "But… I need this stuff… Please, let me keep something."

"I said now!" Cado barked, thrusting his shaking sword mere inches from Link's third eye. "Don't make me..." He paused, swallowing hard. "Don't make me hurt you."

The light from Link's bones filled Cado's eyes and cast harsh shadows on his skin, making him appear ghastly. The sight wrung Link's stomach and brought a reluctant sigh out of him. He needed his things, but he didn't want to accidentally harm Cado, too, should he protest. No, he wouldn't dare. Without a word, he began to shirk his supplies, laying them at Cado's feet.

Cado didn't hesitate to push them out of his reach. Defeated, Link sat in his place as Cado finally found the shackles and brought them over. Their heavy stone chains thunked together in the darkness, but Link was so numb he barely even looked at them. Cado looped the chain around the leg of a heavy tea table nearby, kneeling before Link to lock his wrists into their clasps.

Link raised his hands for Cado, making things easier for him. As he shackled him, the old man avidly avoided their skin making contact, for fear he was somehow infectious; he grabbed Link by the forearm, covered by his shirt, and carefully locked both of his wrists inside the shackles with weighty clicks, taking the key and slipping it into his pocket.

The shackles seemed solid; Link doubted that, even with his added strength, he could have broken free from them. Not that he would try, anyway. He was still feeling rather sick, and he didn't want to cause any more trouble than he already had. He had done enough damage for one day.

Battling his nausea, Link's hands fell into his lap with a chinkling of the chains. As a wave of frigid air washed over him, he watched Cado sheath his sword and confiscate his packs and weapons. With everything safely in his arms, he didn't waste any time in making his swift retreat, dashing across the floor towards the pale light from downstairs shining through the hatch.

Part of Link burst into a panic at the thought of being left alone in the dark. After all, he had assumed Cado would guard him. Before he left, Link called out to him, his voice strained.

"...Cado?!"

The old man reacted to Link saying his name as though he had been electrocuted. Gasping, he ground to a halt in his tracks and jolted back, his eyes bugging out of his head and his hair standing on end. A few paces from the exit, he crouched in dreaded anticipation, listening for Link's reply.

Link hesitated, biting his lip. He wanted to both beg Cado to stay, as well as apologize for everything, but he knew he wouldn't listen to either.

In the end, all he could manage was a frail, "Please, tell Dorian how sorry I am."

A short, yet heavy pause followed. Without acknowledging Link's request, Cado darted down the stairs and laid the hatch shut with a deep, resounding thud, drowning Link in blackness.

Link's breath immediately rushed out of his lungs as the inky abyss gathered eagerly towards him, suffocating him and crushing him absolutely. It seemed to dissolve into his skin and creep into his veins, chilling his blood. Wide-eyed and hollow, he folded his legs against his chest and hugged himself, pinching his eyes shut against the dark and resting his forehead on his knees with a shaky exhale.

He sat there for quite some time, barely thinking, scarcely breathing, yet his heart rampaged in his empty chest, beating against his ribcage. He might as well have been gutted by the Sheikah; his mind lay in shambles from his paranoia, guilt, and anxieties, his body aching, his soul shattered. He barely had the strength to even think.

Sitting there, trembling and curled up in the dark, Link was a far cry from the hero King Rhoam and Zelda believed he was.

Oh, Rhoam, Zelda… Link honestly couldn't believe all that he had been through that day. It felt like an entire lifetime since Zelda's voice had reached out to him and woken him up in the Shrine of Resurrection. It was difficult for him to comprehend that he had met the last king of Hyrule that day, destroyed a Guardian, and traveled off of the Great Plateau on a paraglider — he'd even beheld an ancient dragon. But of everything he had done, he couldn't believe he had ended up there in Kakariko after all of it, vilified and imprisoned like the beast consuming Hyrule Castle.

Him. Link. Like Calamity Ganon. The words together were hideous to him. But after what he had done to Dorian… he felt he deserved it. His beastly act filled him with horror at himself. He grit his teeth and tightened his fists, perishing the thought.

He hadn't meant to do it — but that didn't excuse it. Nothing ever would. He'd have to live with the memory of Dorian's filthy glare for the rest of his life.

What kind of hero would do such a thing? he thought to himself.

Something inside him knew the answer, but he endeavored to push it out of his mind. And yet it lingered, taunting him, just as it did in the belfry. After witnessing the creature he had transformed into, and facing that awful reflection in the crumbling church — after beholding the Malice coursing through him and cowering from the mortal terror in the eyes of the Sheikah… Link slowly realized that he was no hero. No, he was only denying what he was, inside and out: a monster.

A monster that had terrorized people with his face alone. A monster that had shattered an innocent man's arm. Even Calamity Ganon's monster. His blood boiled with dread and hatred at both himself and the beast for the disturbing reality that had been thrust upon him.

His breath began to draw in and out of his paralyzed lungs in gasps as the thought settled over him like a fell storm. How could he possibly save anyone, let alone a princess, even a kingdom, if trouble followed him wherever he went like his own shadow? Though, he supposed, with a face like his, it was only inevitable.

All the same, he couldn't help but curse his own face. Brows knitting together, he reached up and ingrained his fingertips into the bone mask, grinding his teeth and straining to find a way to pry it off of him. He knew it was a pointless venture, but he tried it anyway, prodding and pulling till his fingers were sore. It was just no use.

Reopening his eyes, he eventually gave up and cast his face towards the roof, resting his head against the wall and slumping back. He didn't want to believe it, but all of the evidence was there before him, glaring at him through his skin. He was a monster. He was Ganon's monster. There was no denying it.

He almost started to accept his fate, but a tiny pinprick of light in the back of his mind pierced his crippling doubt, making him reconsider.

Amidst the chaos of his mind, King Rhoam's face materialized out of nowhere, dispelling the boiling mire that was his thoughts. After their encounter with the Guardian, Rhoam had believed Link was a hero — he had hand-picked him to protect the life of his own daughter after witnessing his valor and skill. He had given Link the start he needed to rescue the kingdom from a certain demise, and left him with his blessing. Surely, his word counted for something. He was King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, after all.

And Zelda… She had placed perfect, radiant faith in him when no one else had. Her sincerity and warmth had soothed him in the worst of times, and inspirited him with courage. It was her light and belief that brought him out of the darkness, carried him off of his paralysis in the belfry, and motivated him to jump from the plateau. And it was the thought of her sacrifice that drove Link to keep his promise to her father, no matter what it took.

It was her. It had always been her. Zelda. She was the reason he was a hero.

The thought was pleasant, but his monstrous reality still lurked in his head. Maybe, Link thought, if he could just hear her voice, then he'd find some semblance of peace after his encounter with Dorian that still gnawed at him. Hylia only knew he needed it then. Huddling closer in on himself, he took a deep breath, hoping — no, pining — for her to reply.

"Zelda… please tell me…" he plead, his voice raw. "Tell me I'm not like him… that I'm not a monster. Even if I am…what am I supposed to do? How can I stop it?"

He waited with baited breath for an answer. And yet, in spite of his cry, nothing came. He waited a bit longer still, but ultimately, his pleas hung in the stale air, looming above his head. Her silence destroyed a small part of him, his mind reeling with doubt and fear intensified by the darkness swallowing him.

But just when he felt he had fallen beyond the reach of her light, he received his answer.

It might not have been her voice, but he knew it was her, regardless. While leaning against the cold wooden wall, he was overcome with the miraculous sensation of someone wrapping their arms around him from behind. He seemed to feel the gentle pressure of her squeezing his chest, purifying the dark doubts consuming him.

Blissful warmth, as familiar as a new dawn, thawed his icy fears and trickled through his skin and spine, warming him to his core. For several moments, she held him silently, almost as if to reassure him that she was still there, and that she had heard him. Her silence was breathtaking.

His silent princess… Though she toiled against Calamity Ganon's thrashing, she still had enough strength left in her to comfort him in his hour of need, even through the distance between them. It left him speechless. Her unflinching resolve was nothing short of astounding to him.

New light illuminated the darkness in Link's mind. If, against all odds, she could continue fighting, then somehow, Link knew he could, too. Though the thought of facing Ganon nevertheless frightened him, he couldn't bear the thought of giving up, and leaving her to stand against him alone. She had already endured enough. Now, it was his turn. He had to be strong. For her.

He certainly had his own battles to fight, just as she did, but he made a promise then and there that he wouldn't allow Ganon's menace, as crippling as it was, keep him from his duty to Hyrule. From his duty to her. Monster or not, she hadn't given up on him, yet — he couldn't give up on himself, either. There was simply too much at stake for that.

He had to do whatever it took to destroy Ganon. And if that entailed defying what he had been forced to become, he would do so wholeheartedly.

Link smiled, his taut muscles relaxing while his throat tightened. "Thank you," he whispered aloud, tangling his hand in his shirt. "Thank you..."

Still encircled in her sweet embrace, Link's body eased away its tensions. In that moment, the darkness surrounding him shed its intimidating presence, instead becoming a quiet shroud of rest for him. Though the sun had only been down for a few hours by then, Link felt more than ready for bed, his body and mind weary, yet his soul enriched. He'd have to improvise his bed, yes, but he was plenty exhausted enough to find anything suitable.

Since he couldn't reach the cushions a ways off, he ended up removing his hood and wrapping it around a skillet, using it as a makeshift pillow. Thankfully for him, the length of the shackles' chain gave him just enough leeway to reach a blanket so he wouldn't freeze in his thin clothes in the night. After shaking out the dust from it, he settled down under the blanket with the hood-wrapped pan cradling his head. His "bed" was humble by all accounts, but it served him well enough that night. He was grateful he at least had a roof over his head.

With Zelda's silent reassurance pacifying his worries, his mind began to wind down, and his body slowly grew numb. His eyes heavy, he murmured reverently, "Goodnight. Stay strong."

Across the land, within the depths of Hyrule Castle, the princess wished him a good night, as well. As he drifted off to sleep, a tearful smile found her lips, and she retracted her presence from him. She settled in for another long night of her own, keeping the beast contained while her dear knight slept. She knew he deserved it more than anyone. Even herself.

"Rest well, Link…"she prayed to her hallowed walls. "Your trials are only just beginning..."

The night was rough for both of them. Just as she had done for one hundred years, Zelda kept the beast under her close watch, but for some unexplained reason, its activity levels surged that night. The sudden spike in energy startled her, making her curious, if not a bit frightened, of its cause. It writhed restlessly throughout the night, as if it were anxious for something, its groans rattling along the corrupted halls of the castle, filling her mind, as well as another's.

Link didn't fare much better. In spite of Zelda's presence at the beginning of the night, he tossed and turned amidst foggy, nonsensical dreams that snared his subconscious with voracious delight. Visions of raging, crimson fire and shadowy figures with spider-like legs darted in and out of his hazy, sleeping mind, strewn amidst panicked voices and murmurs. Even in his own dreams he couldn't process what was happening.

It was only when the shadows amalgamated into a hulking silhouette with piercing yellow eyes and tusks did he recognize what was plaguing his dream. Panicking in the face of the beast, he flinched away, bracing to run, only for his body to follow suit. He jerked abruptly awake with a gasp, chest heaving beneath the weight of the dream.

For a brief moment, residual panic from the dream flickered through his lungs as he tried to get his bearings with heightened breath. His surroundings were pitch-black, a fact that alarmed him, but he quickly remembered that he was still in Impa's attic. And, he realized further, still shackled. He did find, interestingly enough, that his bones had ceased shining, leaving him in total darkness. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, what with the total lack of outside light.

Though he certainly felt rested, he soon became acutely aware of a less-than-refreshing development, the first being his stomach snarling inside him. He hadn't eaten anything since the afternoon before, his ravenous hunger nearly dissolving a hole in his abdomen. And with the shackles binding him, he was in no condition to stand and search for some food, even if there were any around.

He clutched his stomach, fidgeting at its uncomfortable emptiness. If only Cado hadn't taken his things. Link would've done anything to bite into a crisp apple, or to dig into a smoked fish — he'd even settle for crunching on acorns. Anything to calm his twisting, angry stomach.

To his fortune, he didn't have to wait long to find relief. As he sat for another moment or two — his mind preoccupied with what would be in store for him that day — he failed to notice the footsteps sounding from downstairs until the hatch to the attic squeaked open, deluging the room in light. Jumping, he blinked against the new light, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes.

Link's heart fluttered a bit as he beheld the person approaching him. It was Cado, looking a bit worse for wear. He had removed his coat and hat, his pale hair a bit disheveled; funnily enough, Link spotted a few feathers poking out of his bun. The lantern he held in his fist cast his face with stark shadows, emphasizing the bags under his eyes. It appeared he hadn't slept well, judging by his rigid expression and glazed-over squint.

Cado came to a stop before Link, looking over his makeshift bed. His eyes tightened.

Before he could say anything, Link greeted him. "Good morning, Cado," he sheepishly said, getting to his feet.

Cado didn't dignify him with a pleasant reply. Frowning, his brows crinkled, and he pursed his lips, grunting, "I have been sent to fetch you by Lady Impa. She wishes to have a word with you."

Without another word, he removed the key to Link's shackles from his pocket and set him free, but not without taking him firmly by the shoulder and escorting him out of the attic.

Link, though nervous to speak with Impa after what happened, was nonetheless grateful to be leaving the attic. It almost felt like escaping a tomb, and he welcomed the dazzling morning light on his skin with a swell of delight in his chest. His faint smile transformed several times as they descended the flights of stairs down to the main floor, ranging from thrilled to anxious. He had no idea what plans Impa had for him.

But per his revelation from the night before, he vowed he would face whatever Impa had in store for him with courage. Come what may, he was ready.

At length, Link and Cado climbed their last steps and emerged into the main room of the house. They were greeted with a similar scene from the night before, with the double doors and various windows ajar letting in a sweet morning breeze.

Impa had moved from her spot on the altar, seated on a cushion before a low table set with three plates, pairs of chopsticks, spoons, and teacups. A thin ribbon of steam curled out of the spout of a teapot placed in the center of the table, the earthy smell of its contents mingling with the floral undertones of cherry blossoms filling the room. It appeared Impa was the only one around — neither Dorian nor the young Sheikah girl were present.

Impa turned her head to greet them as they stepped further inside. To Link's astonishment, she offered him a friendly, aged smile. She gestured to the table, calling him over.

"Please, have a seat with me," she said kindly.

As Cado hung back, Link stepped gingerly forward, seating himself across from the tiny old woman. He folded his hands in his lap, his back stiff. Even when graced with her friendly expression — a novel sight for him — he still ground his jaw shut, his heart pounding. He couldn't believe she was seated that close to him so comfortably.

"I hope you slept well, er…" she began, trailing off. She tilted her head, her brows furrowing. "Oh, do forgive me. My memory isn't what it used to be. Tell me, what was your name, again?"

He wet his dry throat, replying, "Link, Lady Impa."

"My, aren't you polite, Link," she chuckled. "Link… That name… It certainly is unique. I seem to recall knowing a young man named Link, but that was quite a long time ago, you see."

Studying his face, she reached out and took up the teapot, gently pouring a cup of tea for him. Pouring one for herself, and taking a sip, she continued, "The Link I knew was one of the bravest people I've ever known. He withstood the trials that were thrust upon him with his head held high and his feet planted firmly in his beliefs and his skills."

As Link listened in silence, his brain began to itch. She went on, "He was a rather quiet young man — never one to complain about his challenges. He knew from experience that they would come and go, and that he would take them as they came, always reassured that his strength would pull him through."

Impa's eyes searched Link's for a moment before she finished, "I looked up to him in that regard. His example helped me through some tough times, and it continues to do so, even now. I've always wanted to thank him, but, unfortunately, I haven't seen him in one hundred years. It seems I have missed my opportunity."

Link's heart sank a little at that. He was beginning to think she had recognized him. But why would she? Not with his face. A long pause followed, wherein Impa's wise gaze seemed to delve directly into Link's soul. Goosebumps ran over his skin, and he flushed with nervous heat, beads of sweat building on his neck.

He remained silent when she finally said, "It seems you share a name with that ancient hero, but… I'm not so certain on the rest. You certainly aren't subtle like he was," she said slyly, making Link purse his lips and stiffen. "Which brings me to why I called you here… Link," she started.

Link blinked away his stupor at her words, listening.

Impa said, "I'm afraid that, because of last night's… incident… I am now down a set of hands for chores around the village. With Dorian out of commission, and with the threat of the Yiga Clan so high at the moment, I need Cado to guard me around the clock while Dorian rests." Link snuck a glance to Cado, stood behind them with his arms folded. He looked back to Impa when she continued, "That leaves me with their extra work that I simply cannot do on my own, me being the age that I am. In light of this, I thought it best to put you to the task.

"I'm recruiting you to do some work around Kakariko," she explained, much to his shock. "Little odd jobs for my people. Whatever they need from you. I cannot say how difficult the tasks will be, and I can only promise compensation in the form of meals and a roof over your head until Dorian's arm heals. You will stay in the village until then. I feel this could, possibly, make up for what occurred last night."

Link, his heart hammering, nodded rapidly, "Yes, Lady Impa. I'll do anything you ask. Anything, hopefully, to… to apologize… for what I did."

He hung his head, his rigid posture sagging. He sighed, asking timidly, "How… how is Dorian?"

She paused for a moment, replying reverently, "He is well. He is resting at home, with his daughters."

Link's head snapped up, his face flushing. "...He has children?" he gasped, suddenly overcome with another wave of disgust for what he did.

"Yes," Impa replied, her expression solemn and her eyelids low. "Two beautiful girls. Koko and Cottla. They, with my granddaughter, Paya, are taking care of him." She leaned forward upon taking in Link's wilted face, saying, "Don't you worry about old Dorian, Link. He's seen much in his life, and it's made him tough. He'll be just fine. I'm sure he's grateful for the time he can spend with them, now that he's being forced to relax."

Even with Impa's reassurance, Link still felt awful. The hunger in his gut mutated into caustic guilt that tightened his throat and stole his breath. Even so, he knew that Impa's proposition was exactly what he needed to set things right, no matter how poorly he might be treated in the process. He wanted to make up for the damage he had done and the disruption he had caused the peaceful village. It was the least he could do.

After taking a sip of his tea, Link looked Impa in the eyes, determined.

"Where should I start?" he asked.

And, boom! Another chapter! I hope it was worth the wait - a little angsty, yes, but I feel like with all that Link's going through, he's bound to struggle within himself. Especially after what happened with Dorian. Ouch!

Man, I'm falling in love with Impa. She's awesome. We'll be seeing more of her in the coming chapters, as well as more of the inhabitants of Kakariko.

Thanks again for reading in spite of my awkward delay in uploading. I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my work and join Link on his journey. :)

Things are about to get interesting! Stay tuned!

Bye! :)