The open field brings Link back to his quest. His fights solo across the land, with only him, his sword and Epona to keep him company.

Thankfully, his darling girl is still with Link, and his sword is still on his back. He doesn't know where he'd be without either of them; they keep him grounded. However, he isn't alone anymore—even with his sword and horse, Link is now guarded and flanked by a platoon of squires who march alongside him.

He might be the first knight to take on fourteen squires, now that he thinks about it. In all fairness, though, he's the only knight in existence, so he has to take them all. In his era, the most ever taught at a time was two—Link never got the chance to take on his own.

Well, the New Hyrule Army has brought on a lot of firsts for him and the military. After all, this is the first time he's never led an expedition. Frankly, he's a little annoyed he isn't in the lead—but that job has to be delegated to his Knight-Commander-in-training. He has to let her take command, following close behind her between the square formation the mounted trainees ride within. Captain Serine sits atop her chocolate paint horse, clad in her silver enamelled plate—the dirt on her tabard from their last bout long gone, replaced with starched white and a clean Red Loftwing Crest. She's silent, eyeing the tree line of the forest they enter.

"What do you think?" Link asks, his back straight as the woods around them. At the same time, the line marches onward at a steady pace. He allows her to formulate her thoughts and come to her own conclusion.

"Perfect place for an ambush is what I'm thinking, General." The woman grimaces, looking away from the tree line to weakly shrug at her superior. "I'm… unsure, honestly. It's nerve-wracking."

"True," Link nods emphatically. "These recruits are under your care. What is the plan?"

"Re… retread our steps and go around?" She hesitantly answers. "They're still training. I don't want to risk—"

"Stop," the General holds out his palm. "What have they been training for?"

"For battle," she answers immediately, then winces upon realization. "This is what they trained for."

"Trust them as I do you," Link takes in her worried face, giving her a straight stare as she bites her lip. "They are soldiers." He flicks his reins, and Epona knickers as she speeds up. "I'll scout ahead. You're in charge."

Link doesn't let her respond, as he lets out a; "Hup!" Before speeding off down the worn trail.

Away from his responsibilities, a weight lifts off of Link's shoulders as the wind across his face ruffles his normally hat-clad hair. Aside from his cloak's hood, he never enjoyed wearing hats. They're too stuffy and keep the air away from his head—he feels as if he's going to combust.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and lets Epona find their way forward. She's an intelligent girl; she knows Hyrule as well as he does, if not better. The silence of the air around him cascades like a cocoon, safely enveloping his senses. It isn't all that quiet; a forest never is. Birds sing, crickets chirp and—

His eyes reopen—Blin chatter. Definitely an ambush, but considering none have blown a horn, they haven't noticed him.

Epona immediately reacts, her ears twitching, and a light chitter escapes her lips. Link gently pats her neck, whispering to the usually stalwart horse. "Easy, sweetheart. I'm here."

What's got her so spooked? Epona is the bravest animal he's ever met.

As if the Goddesses themselves were answering his question, a dark purple and red haze trickles onto the trail, blown in from a warm breeze. The wind is eastward, coming from the west. That's Central Hyrule. His heart drops when he sees it; he's flashed back to his memory of the Malice and what that means.

Ganon.

"No," he whispers, his hands tight around Epona's reins. "I killed you."

Heat builds up within his chest, incandescent malevolence that screams for him to destroy. The Heroes' spirit roars within, ordering the reincarnation for blood—instinctive hatred Link cannot understand.

He can't risk whatever this means and allow it to break what Zelda has built. A plan must be made when the column reaches Kakariko. But first, he must rid himself of this burgeoning rage.

Link's arm raises to his shoulder, gripping the Master Sword by her handle. Upon his touch, she whispers.

Reprisal.

He grimaces, fully unsheathing her. The holy glow of The Blade of Evil's Bane shines like a beacon within the hazy fog overtaking the midday sun, exuding her desire to destroy evil with a deep hum. This confirms his worst fears without a word.

"Hup," he kicks Epona's flank, his sword held like a lifeline as he charges to where he heard the monster's chatter. A sound of confusion bleats like a goat, then something—probably a Moblin—cries out in shock as they no doubt hear his rapid approach. He crouches atop Epona's firm back and springs off of her. Time around him slows to a crawl as he focuses on his enemies and their disgusting, pig-like animal faces.

Nothing but Beasts. He hates them.

When they realize their attacker, shock is overwritten by their own hate. That, and Link spies a bit of fear—Which surprises him, honestly. He never expected the Blins to have the capacity for fear.

He has a reputation amongst them. Good.

Like butter, his sword rakes through the black Moblin's chest, dead. Two red Boko's covered its flank, and he reacts according to their position. Two steps—left, right—One swing at each neck beheads them, their foul squeals disappearing with their heads.

The remains left behind from Link's brutal assault disappear in a puff of purple smoke, promising to return the next Blood Moon.

From his right, a diminutive Bokoblin tries to slam its club at its enemy, but the General bats it away with his gloved hand. It would typically be his shield, but instinct took over. The effect is about the same. Without a chance to breathe, Link ducks beneath the mighty swing of yet another Moblin—this one is blue—wielding a greatsword. It tries again to bisect him as he regains his footing. This time, it aims for a downward slash; the sword's weight throws the beast off balance. Telegraphed, Link can see precisely where the blade will fall before the swing reaches its climax.

Clumsy, like always. Pathetic beasts.

It falls, and Link simply steps to the side. Easy as making pie.

Thus, he takes advantage of its oafish nature, balancing himself upon the stuck blade and climbing along the edge toward his target's drooling face. He stabs his sword into its snout, and it gurgles before falling, the stuck greatsword left lodged in dirt.

Its corpse remains. The Malice, or whatever it is, isn't strong enough—yet—to absorb all of them.

Link spins around, pointing the Master Sword at whatever else deems itself a threat. Only to realize a whole army of Blins was sitting in ambush. He isn't nervous; he just wasn't expecting so many. Monsters only ever travel like this when something makes them want to.

Some of them are… horned, as well. They always were, but these new horns vastly differ from the single bull-like protrusions from before. Bokoblins have larger ones now, too.

Whatever. Link is here to kill, not study variation within a species. With a warcry, he charges the encroaching mob, the monsters roaring to meet his challenge.

Serine glances up at the sky, trying to gauge how long it's been since the General went off to scout ahead. From her guess, probably a half-hour.

"Captain," a woman asks, her face covered by her sallet. Serine has yet to introduce herself to them. She's nervous. "We've been standing here for a while. We're all getting tired of waiting."

"Yes," Serine nods, her voice firm to betray her sense of fear. "The General is scouting ahead. We await his return."

"What if he's injured?" Someone—a man this time adds, worriedly. "We must save him!"

"The General would never get hurt! He's unstoppable!" A young lad bellows. "He'll be back before we know it!"

Serine doesn't know what to do—She was chosen as captain for her swordplay. She knows it. She has no idea why the General would ever put faith in her to be Knight-Commander of all things.

"The General said he'd scout ahead, so we let him scout ahead." She tries to command. It comes out weakly to her ears. No doubt the soldiers in her care notice as well. They mutter amongst themselves, clanking their weapons as they get restless. Serine doesn't know what to do.

Suddenly, a roar—no, a cry echoes from inside the forest. It's… a Lynel!

"That's a Lynel!" The man who fears for his General cries. "That settles it; we must help General Link!"

Fearless. None of the soldiers want to allow their General's death.

Serine agrees this time, instinct overtaking her anxiety. "Wolf-Pack formation! Stay mounted and keep moving when we face the Beast! Remember your training! Ride!" Her orders come out naturally as she draws her sword and points it down the path the General rode. "Hiya!"

The soldiers follow closely behind, their halberds pointed like claws of death from their horses—a mounted cavalry. Four years ago, if you told her she'd be leading a military charge, Serine would have laughed in your face and gestured to the inanity of fighting for others.

Look at her now, proud of the armour and Loftwing on her chest—the meaning of which her General managed to drill into them.

General Link has done so much in such a short period of time. A military. Who'd have thought? Hyrule had just been a place they all lived until the Princess and the General destroyed the Calamity. Now, it's a country where she can find nationalistic pride.

Nothing will take away the only place Serine felt like she belonged. Her General is the one who created that for her, and she refuses to let him down.

The charge lasts minutes but feels like hours as they ride full speed toward the roar. Slowly, the trail is overtaken by a purple-red miasma. Then, bodies.

Corpses of Bokoblin, Moblin—even Chu-Chu jelly is sprinkled in the carnage. Her heart drops, but hope remains. A Hylian body has yet to appear.

Some are ash, but most bodies on the ground have yet to burst. She can only assume that the corpses not exploding is the work of the General's strange sword.

"Eyes forward," She orders as the line slows. "Keep—"

Another roar sparks atop the treeline, just in the next clearing. Serine rushes forward, urging her armoured horse with desperate abandon.

The sight that steals all their attention shakes her to her very core.

The General—no, Hero stands atop the corpse of what looks to be the largest Lynel she'd ever seen, with horns sharper than any Sheikah blade. The pristine white mane lining its throat is caked with blood, a fine slash along its large tendons. Its corpse is not what shocks her, but the barely heaving form of their leader standing tall atop a mountain of monsters.

His navy blue uniform is barely ruffled; it would look freshly pressed if not for the black blood dyeing the white gloves midnight.

Nobody makes a move to utter a sound. She hears her heart pounding in her ears. The General has not noticed them—his eyes shut lightly, almost like he's sleeping.

Serine has never been more terrified of a single man in her entire life.

"G-General?" One of the soldiers speaks, breaking the deathly silence.

His eyes flash open, a feral gleam sparking within his brilliant blue irises. For a moment, if looks could kill, Serine knows they would all be dead, too.

"Heron," The leader finally speaks, jumping off the corpse pile as if hopping off a rock. "Your grip. Fix it."

The one who spoke flinches, letting out a yelp as he tightens his hold on his weapon. "Y-yes, General!"

Around her, Serine notices each squire do the same with their own grip. After thinking about it, she realizes she also fixes her hand placement.

"Apologies," Link says as he approaches the mounted soldiers standing tall in their saddles. After a trying battle, he sheathes his sword, putting her to rest within her scabbard. "I lost myself within the dance. I meant to fall back, but…"

"None needed, sir." His Knight-Commander-in-training refuses. "We knew you could handle it. The Lynel's roar simply spooked us, is all."

Link sighs at her answer. "No. I wanted this to be a learning opportunity. Instead, I allowed my emotions to get the better of me." He looks at each of his squires, trying to meet their eyes beneath their helms—none bare themselves to greet him. He grimaces. "You all needed experience, and I failed to give it to you. I am sorry."

Lowering his head, Link bows deeply to his subordinates. Even he cannot be above punishment, especially if no one can give it to him. It's one of the flaws of having no King. He knows Zelda would never punish him. The woman is much too kind to view any misdeed as anything but a 'small mistake.'

None say a word—even Serine stays silent. So Link raises himself and gets back to business. He has to fill them in on the change of plan.

Before that, he whistles for Epona, and she comes barreling through the brush, slowing to a crawl before bumping her face into Link's chest. With a silent sigh, he pats her muzzle and fills in his squires.

"The plan remains as is—we continue our ride to Kakariko, but my direction will shift upon arrival. You will stay and assist where you can, taking orders from Chief Impa or whoever she deems appropriate to place in charge." He lays out his words as a statement without argument. They will follow every word. "You will conduct yourselves accordingly. When I return from my detour, I expect to hear nothing but praise."

The squires pound their halberds into the dirt, grunting in acknowledgment of his order. "Hut!" They all cry.

"Where will you go, sir?" Serine asks.

"Hateno. I have much to discuss with our Princess about what we saw today."

He mounts Epona in one smooth motion, scratching her ear lovingly before gesturing to the column behind him to follow. "Forward. We have two days of ground to cover before we reach Kakariko."

"Yes, sir!"

The march goes on for hours, and thankfully, the minute they exit the forest, the purple miasma fades into the wind. Link still carries a scary amount of rage after the battle, which worries him. He doesn't know where it's coming from—but he can make a strong guess.

Ganon has returned. Either that or something similar is taking his place. He thought they'd be done with the Calamity, that there would finally be peace in Hyrule—That they could rebuild.

A pipe dream, nothing more. The thought enrages Link to no end.

Zelda earned her peace.

The line is walking the field, headed toward the Twin Peaks. Necluda is on the horizon.

The silence is unbearable, and he must take his mind off these racing thoughts, so the General glances over at his soon-to-be Knight-Commander.

"Wolf-Pack formation," he draws out, trying to make small talk. "A fine choice, but a pincer would make for quick work of a battalion—especially un-mounted infantry. Remember this, Serine."

"I-I thought we would be facing a Lynel," The woman jerks but quickly regains her composure and answers him. "A pincer would work for Boko's and Moblin, but…."

"Lynel's are arrogant creatures," Link states passively. "They would meet your hit-and-run tactics through ranged combat and pick off your allies from afar. A pincer would force them to engage in melee while attacked on two fronts. They relish in the challenge."

"Right—o-of course. Understood, General." Serine's brows furrow, her pride tarnished by his quick dissection of her tactics. Link rushes to ease her worries.

"That does not mean you failed. Your quick thinking pushed your soldiers onward, and you led them bravely against the most dangerous beast we can encounter." He stares at her head on, and finally, she meets his gaze. "Be proud."

Silence again follows. Once more, Link wishes he could properly verbalize his feelings and get across whatever he means to say. Nothing springs to mind, and he slowly begins to worry he might have destroyed his Captain's faith in herself. She did everything correctly; she just picked a less efficient path toward victory. This all comes with experience—something she still sorely lacks.

Something he stole from her and his squires by rushing ahead and losing himself to rage.

Link sighs, his eyes closing as he parses through his thoughts. Thus, he's unaware of the stares of complete loyalty and utmost respect coming from each and every one of his soldiers.

Serine, most of all.

Kakariko is exactly as he remembers from a year prior. That was the last time he'd been here alongside Zelda. He fights to push down the blush building on his cheeks as he forces himself to look passive. The line has to portray itself as perfectly ordered; it's a matter of utmost importance. The people they protect must view them as a pillar they can lean on.

"Link!" Dorian toasts his sake cup high as they pass his abode. It's relatively late in the evening. He can't fault the man for wanting a drink. "How is our Hero?! Come drink with me!"

"No, come with me!" Lasli bats her eyes at him next to Dorian, her cheeks as pink as the old man's. "I have something to show you in my room~."

Dorian suddenly leans over to her, smirking at Link while he whispers to Lasli loudly. "His ears are pierced. That means he's gettin' married, Las! You missed your opportunity!"

The General blushes something fierce as soon as the words leave his mouth. The woman pouts, moaning to the darkening sky about the lack of 'good men.' Dorian just laughs in her face and offers him a celebratory drink.

Link can't hide the smile that breaks across his face. Kakariko is home. Even if his house is in Hateno, the village always holds a special place in his heart.

"I'm on duty," he tries to sound professional, but the grin in his voice betrays his insistence. "Next time, I promise."

"Bah!" Dorian waves his empty hand, wobbly movement from his inebriation. "You said that last time."

Before Link can defend himself, a much taller Koko than he remembers steps out from behind the sliding door. She glares at her father with a dishevelled look on her face and her hands on her hips. "Father! Whenever you and Lasli get together, it's always so loud! Cottla's trying to sleep!"

Link halts Epona with a light tug of her reins when the young girl appears. His men follow suit, but he gestures to Serine to keep them moving toward the Big House.

Lasli moans about getting the girl to leave her alone while Dorian sheepishly grins at his daughter.

"When did you get so big?" Link asks, genuine shock permeating his expression. "You were tiny."

"Yeah," Koko rolls her eyes and states with an attitude only a girl her age can muster. "Last year. I'm twelve now!"

"Huh." He mutters, leaning low atop his horse as he continues his conversation with Koko. "Did you get the recipes I left you from Paya?"

"Oh, yes!" Immediately, the young girl's demeanour shifts. Her attitude changes to the little sweetheart he remembers when cooking is brought up. "I made a soufflé yesterday! It was so yummy! Cottla and Papa loved it!"

"Well done," He chuckles. "Your skills are improving. A soufflé is no easy task—keeping the batter from falling limp was difficult for me."

"Hehe!" She giggles. "My goal of becoming a chef is within reach! One day, I'll make a cake for the Princess!"

"She'd love that," Link laughs, knowing the Princess' adoration of anything baked. Deciding he'd better get a move on, he waves goodbye and allows the girl to chaperone her drunk father and Lasli inside. With a light nudge to Epona's flank, she picks up her speed and knows to link up with the other equine.

Such a brilliant and beautiful girl.

With a sigh, all mirth leaves his body as he approaches Impa's abode—the Big House of Kakariko. His squires and Commander have dismounted, standing tall before a couple of Sheikah who speak easily to them. Link huffs as he watches, afraid that the villagers will tease his soldiers. They're so new and high-strung. The easy-going yet highly-skilled Sheikah will have a field day with them.

As he nears, he overhears Cado throwing some verbal jabs at a shorter male—Probably Falkner. He's even shorter than Link. To his credit, Falkner remains unfazed.

"Small, eh? Can you even carry that sword?"

"Yes, sir." Falkner nods, stomping his foot to the ground and straightening his back. "Our General is the best of the best."

Every other soldier in the line stomps after Falkner's statement, slamming the butts of their halberds like a gong. "Ooh-rah!"

"Ten-hut!" Serine calls, her gaze catching Link's approach. "Look alive. The General is here."

"Tch, General. I remember when that boy was still a squire. He was firmer than all of you, that's for sure!"

"And you were a hardass back then, too, Cado. You used to be more bite than bark, though." Link drawls as he hops off Epona and cracks his neck. Cado jerks, clearly not expecting the General himself to make an appearance. "It's good to see you, old man."

"And you, gramps. But I haven't lost my edge if that's what you're saying." He grins, grabbing Link's arm and patting him like the old friends they are. "My katana is still sharp; I'm just too decrepit to fight battles with you anymore."

"Can't have your hip coming loose mid-combat. I've seen you move," Link grips Cado by his forearm, smiling nostalgically at the man. "You'd never recover."

Cado was one of the only Sheikah from before whom Link had any real combat experience with—Impa, of course, was also fighting at his side. He and Impa had his flank when the Calamity came, only to be separated by their desire to distract the encroaching Guardians hot on their trail—hunting for the Princess.

He heard later they were the ones to deliver his body to Purah and Robbie for the Shrine of Ressurection. Impa must have been beside herself with grief. Hylia, Link lost so much only to be thrust into a new century without a memory aside from his name.

There he goes again, getting all… melancholic. Zelda's right; he needs a hobby that isn't related to killing things. Maybe he should try giving cooking more of a focus on his off hours.

The reunion doesn't last much longer, as Link desires to reach Hateno as soon as possible. He introduces Cado to his men and women before putting Serine to work at setting up lodgings at the Inn.

Of course, he hands her a bag of rupees to pay their way. From the military's substantial budget, the donations have just been pouring in. Link has no desire to start having collectors knock on doors for taxes, but he isn't naive enough to think an army would run off gusto alone.

He was prepared to start levying a low rate, but the people of Hyrule send money regularly. They want the safety his army provides, and he aims to protect those wishing for safety with every fibre of his being. Their donations will guarantee their safety—that is a hill he will die on.

Again.

While Serine gets the squires settled, and their horses stabled at the Inn's barn, Link leaves Epona to wander the village as he marches to the Big House for his meeting with Impa. Everyone knows her, and she's well-behaved, so it's not a worry to let her have free rein. Link walks with his back straight and his head held high as he climbs the mountain-like stairs to her entryway.

He has no idea how she does it. The woman is so small and fragile—worry courses through him, thinking about ways he could make the climb easier for Impa. A small version of a minecart might work, but how would she get back up? There's also the matter of speed. He wouldn't want her to get hurt because the cart was going too fast.

He reaches the door before coming to any conclusion and sighs as he slides it open.

"Master Link," Paya glances over and bows. She hasn't changed much, aside from the loss of her stutter. It's nice to see. "We saw you approach. Grandma filled me in on the reason for you being here."

"And?" Link asks, nodding to Impa as he saunters over to Paya. Impa is watching closely but doesn't move to interfere. Link knows why, as she told him her reasoning for allowing Paya to run the Zonai Survey Team. She's grooming her for Chiefdom. "What're your thoughts?"

"I was afraid you'd decline the olive branch, honestly," The young woman blushes. "I-I have no idea why. I know how kind you are, masculine, brave…"

"Focus, dear." Impa interrupts with a grin.

"Right!" She jerks. "Um. Sorry."

"No worries," Link waves off her apology. "Do you have a budget?"

"They get a stipend from the clan. Only as much as we can spare, however." Impa answers for Paya as she starts to flounder. "Do not stress so much, Papaya. You know Link."

"Yes, Grandma." Paya nods deeply, taking a deep breath to ease her nerves. Good girl, she's learned some strategies to calm herself.

"Keep the stipend, Impa." Link takes over, glancing at the chief, then her granddaughter. "The military has more substantial and less important resources. We can spare as much as you need, Paya."

"The Sheikah are not poor, General." Impa drawls with a raised eyebrow and sharp stare. "We can support our own."

"I don't doubt that." Link raises his hand, hoping to correct his flaw in verbiage. "But with all due respect, the Zonai Survey Team won't just be your own anymore, and the costs will only increase. We receive thousands daily and have a surplus of money that's simply gathering dust. Keep your coffers full for use on supplies the village needs."

Before the woman can respond or Paya can take control, the door of the house opens loudly.

"Lil' sis! I am here!" Purah makes her presence known, stepping into the home, and Link's jaw drops.

She's beautiful. She's always been cute, but she finally broke out from the pre-teen and post-pubescent age she's been stuck in for the past four years. Her age has finally surpassed the oldest he'd seen her, nineteen—–just like he was when he died. Purah was his first crush—Zelda used to bother him before they finally got to know each other. Now, she's a gorgeous Sheikah woman, probably about his age, at twenty-three.

Physically, at least. Everyone present, aside from Paya, is over a century old.

"Goddess, Kakariko hasn't changed a bit. I missed this place." Purah strides into Impa's home, who immediately gapes at the lack of manners. "Ah, my favourite grand-niece! Hello, cutie pie! I brought candy! You still like that, right?"

Paya's eyes widen, shock written across her face as the eccentric researcher drops a handful of hard candy into her pockets. Link doesn't blame her; Purah made it very clear she'd never set foot in Kakariko again since Impa became chief.

"Purah! Your shoes must come off at the door! Have you no respect for mother and father?!"

"Oh, hush." Purah waves off the intimidating grandma, who gasps. "You know better than to speak to me about respect. In case you forgot, I convinced Mother not to hunt you down herself for leaving to join Linky's party."

Immediately, Impa is silenced. The deep trench-like wrinkles on her cheeks dyed red with embarrassment.

"A-auntie!" Paya stutters, her impediment coming back from the shock. Poor girl, she was definitely not expecting this. "W-w-what are you doing here?"

"Escort to the Princess," Link's ears twitch and he looks to the door. "We wanted to be present for the meeting."

Zelda stands at the entrance, her beauty enrapturing the General like it's the first time he's ever seen her. It's only been a year, but Goddess, did he miss her. She's stood there, watching Impa and Purah argue with a light smile, one that steals his heart every single time he sees it.

She cut her hair. It's short, cropped to her shoulders from the rump length he's used to.

Link decides then and there that he likes it. Everything she does is pretty, and he likes it.

Finally, her gaze catches his own, and her smile returns tenfold. He's frozen, staring deeply into her beautiful green orbs of… prettiness. It takes him a second to realize she's running at him.

"Link!" Zelda laughs, jumping in the air with her arms outstretched. "I missed you so much!"

He catches her, spinning the woman with a laugh of his own as he squeezes her close to his chest and smells her hair. "Me too."

"Let me see your ears!" She pulls away, brushing aside his wild locks with a desperation he didn't expect.

"Careful," He warns. "They're still—Ow!"

"Sorry, love." Zelda winces, easing her desperate motions slightly. They stop just as quickly as they started, and he hears—feels—her intake of a breath. "Wow. You really did it."

"Of course I did." Link affirms. "I promised myself to you."

She pulls away, all smiles and giggles as her cheeks pinken at his words. Zelda falls back against his chest, sighing in contentment. "And I you. I guess the realization of our marriage hadn't sunk in until I saw them. I am so very happy."

Link can't stop a smile from forming at Zelda's words, forgetting the presence of their friends and family as the two get lost in each other's arms. He leans down after pulling away and takes her lips with his own, basking in her warmth like he oh-so-desperately wished for. It's a chaste kiss, one that whispers about promises for a moment alone later.

"Me too."

"Ahem," Purah coughs lightly into her fist, forcing the two lovers out of their reverie. "Sorry, but we're here to discuss the budget?"

"Ah—uh, right." Zelda clears her throat as she jumps away. Link clicks his tongue, glaring slightly at the Sheikah researcher for ruining their moment. "Um… where were we?"

"I'll take over," Link straightens his shoulders and steps to the forefront of the room. This whole situation is perfect, everyone that needs to know what he saw within Hyrule Forest is present. "I saw something during the excursion my squires and I took to make our way here."

"Oh?" Impa raises an eyebrow, breaking out of her stunned silence. "You look bothered."

He bites his lip as he tries to figure out how to word his feelings. Ugh, this is yet another moment where his wish for the proper ability to communicate his thoughts would come in handy.

"Link, what has you so high-strung?" Zelda asks, her opulent eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You're all quiet again."

"Ganon," he blurts. The air in the room freezes. "I-I saw Malice. A fog-like gas filled the air in Hyrule Forest. Monsters were organizing—a whole army."

Everyone's eyes are wide with fear. Link's own is overwritten by so much anger it's making him nauseous. His hands are shaking, almost begging him to draw his sword and hunt down whatever remnant is stealing Zelda's peace.

"I believe Ganon is returning." He states with a finality that brokers no argument, his voice quivering with unrestrained rage. "I am going to kill whatever remains."