Chapter 7

The next morning Link dropped the princess off at the Ventest Clothing Boutique while he headed to the general store up the street. Every last precious stone he'd acquired was traded to the merchant, letting the man calculate the total as the swordsman started gathering things on the mental list he'd made earlier. Although she hadn't asked, he knew Zelda would appreciate her own brush, hair ties and other such toiletries. He remembered well what it was like to own nothing but the clothes on his back.

The money pouch was considerably lighter by the time they'd finished their errands and headed home, purchases stored in the slate while Zelda carried a folded futon and Link balanced the wooden frame of a cot on his back. He'd given the only bed in the house, as well as the loft, to the princess. There was more than enough room for his cot beneath the stairs until more permanent arrangements could be made.

After a late lunch Link presented Zelda with his purchases, letting her sort through them as he warmed the bath water. Giving the princess the privacy of the house, he headed outside and set to cleaning his armor. He wrinkled his nose as he withdrew the pieces from the Sheikah slate and dropped them all in the washtub. It seemed the stasis function worked on clothing as well as food, the smell of decay just as strong as it had been last week. Grimacing in distaste at the task before him, he retrieved an old cloth and pulled a stool over to the tub, adjusting his sword across his back and rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt as he set to work.

Zelda took her time in the bath, enjoying the sweet scent of her new soap as she washed the dust and grime from the previous days of travel from her body. She dumped a bucket of warm water over her head, idly wondering where Link had found the money to pay for everything.

Her hands stilled as the thought settled, glancing around at the bottles of product for her bath and the neatly folded clothes on a bench next to the door. Where had he earned the money to pay for this? It wasn't as if he'd had time to take up work anywhere while freeing the Divine Beasts. The notion of him having stolen it wasn't even worth considering, but he had to have come across the money somewhere... She shook her head sharply to dismiss the wild notions her mind was conjuring, continuing to work her hair into a lather. Idle speculation would avail her nothing and the matter was easily solved by simply asking Link later.

Zelda changed into tunic and trousers after she was clean, following the local fashion. The clothing was a little big, despite the minor alterations made by the seamstress in the shop, but still better fitting than what she had borrowed from her knight. The material itself seemed durable enough, if a bit coarser than what she was used to, but was easy to move in.

She'd just finished working the brush through her hair and was debating whether to plait it or let it air dry when there was a knock at the door. Thinking it might be Link checking if she was done, she left the vanity in the loft and headed for the door. "I'm finished now, thank you for waiti- oh!" She broke off mid-word as she opened the door, an unfamiliar woman standing on the other side. "Forgive me, I thought you were someone else," she apologized, tucking her hair behind one ear before quickly regaining her composure. "May I help you?"

A short portly woman was standing on the front steps, wearing a pink dress with a cream color apron. Her brown hair was cut about shoulder length with thick bangs covering her forehead. Dark eyes crinkled in a smile as she held up a small basket. "Hello, I'm Nikki and I live across the bridge and up the road. I thought I'd bring you some fresh bread while you're getting settled in."

"That's very kind of you, thank you," Zelda said, surprised by the generosity as she accepted the basket. Her manners caught up with her a few seconds later and she stepped back. "Won't you come in?" she offered.

"Thank you dear," Nikki said, stepping into the house.

"Please, have a seat," Zelda offered, motioning to the table as she set the basket on the counter. "I'm afraid I've only water to offer."

"That would be lovely," Nikki said, smiling pleasantly. "It is a bit warm today." She accepted the cup, taking a sip as she glanced around the house. "I'm glad this old place is finally being put to good use," she continued, as Zelda took a seat across from her. "Though it did create quite a stir when that young man showed up out of nowhere and demanded the construction crew stop work on tearing it down."

"Link did what?" Zelda asked, aghast. He'd neglected to mention that part when he'd told her about his decision to buy the house.

"Oh yes," Nikki agreed, eyes bright as she leaned forward slightly. "It had stood empty for so long that the town voted to tear it down and do something else with the land. Bolson's Construction had just started to do that when Link showed up and told them to stop, stating he'd buy the house himself. I don't know the details, but apparently Bolson was impressed with Link's audacity and offered him a rather peculiar price for it." She shook her head. "There were several newly constructed houses just across the bridge, but your young man was set on this one for some reason. The entire affair was quite odd."

"I...see," Zelda said, her eyes going distant. Link may have now accepted the loss of his early memories and moved on, but it still made her heart clench to hear of his desperate attempts to regain even a small piece of his past.

"Even more strange was how, after such a dramatic show to buy the house, he didn't move in! Oh, people would see him in town from time to time, but it was obvious he wasn't living here." Nikki shook her head again. "Hopefully he'll settle down, now that he's finally got himself a wife."

That made Zelda sit up straight, eyes wide at the implication. It was a logical assumption, of course, but it made her realize several things at once and she felt like kicking herself for not considering the repercussions of her actions sooner. First, the act of bringing a gift to welcome them to the neighborhood was simply a way for the town gossip to get their story. Whatever she found out today would be circulating around town tomorrow.

Second, while probably not as malicious as the gossip-mongers at court, Zelda would still have to watch her words a carefully. A misstep here could have far-reaching consequences when she made her survival public and assumed the throne that had sat empty for the last century.

Third, no one knew who she was, or who Link was. While it was acceptable for her to travel unaccompanied by any but her knight in the past, the present was another matter. And now they were staying beneath the same roof, with no chaperone.

Fourth, scandal had to be avoided at all cost.

Her mind racing at breakneck speeds, she demurely covered her mouth as she chuckled lightly. "Oh no," she denied, ancient lessons in court etiquette resurfacing as she firmly fixed her expression in a pleasant smile. "Link and I aren't married. He's...simply an old friend."

Nikki's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oh," she said, taking another sip of her water although her eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Forgive me for saying so, but that's...rather unconventional."

"I suppose it is," Zelda agreed, allowing her eyes to drop to the table as her expression shifted to something more melancholic. "But, he's been... I mean, in light of what's happened, I..." She shook her head, not having to pretend to have difficulty finding the words. She needed to stick as close to the truth as possible, but how much detail was too much? How much would not be enough?

Nikki set her cup down again as she sat forward, leaning her elbows on the table. "What is it, dear?" she asked, sympathy practically oozing from every pour.

Zelda took a deep breath, willing her heart to slow though her composure never faltered. "I lost everything in the attack; my family, my home. I myself could not leave without dire consequences and I've been...trapped there for some time now. Then Link came for me."

A genuine smile spread across her face, remembering finally seeing her knight face to face on Hyrule Field after a century apart. "Once he learned what had happened, he hastened to my side and freed me from that fate. He's always been like that, putting the needs of others before his own." She looked up again, meeting the bright gaze hanging on her every word. "I know it's unorthodox, but I don't feel truly safe anywhere but by his side. I was alone in the darkness for so long..."

"You poor thing, having been through so much at such a young age," Nikki sympathized, reaching over and patting Zelda's clasped hands resting on the table.

"Link has been a perfect gentleman, though I'm certain my presence has upset his own life quite a bit," Zelda continued, wanting to drive this point home. "He gave me the entire loft for as long as I am here, stating that cot under the stairs is enough for him, and he insisted on remaining outside while I bathed, despite the lock on the door. I actually thought it was him when you knocked earlier, asking if I was finished."

"Such a nice young man," Nikki agreed with a nod. "It's a pity we don't have more young people like that these days."

Zelda smiled politely in agreement, breathing a soft sigh of relief. Though her story had been accepted easily enough, she was ready for this interview to be over. She tilted her head up and to the side slightly, as if listening for something. "Speaking of, I think I hear him calling for me now," she said apologetically.

Nikki took her cue to leave. "Don't let me keep you," she said, standing and pushing in her chair. "I need to be getting back anyway."

"Thank you for stopping by," Zelda said, walking her outside. "And for the bread. I'm sure it will be delicious."

"You're quite welcome dear. And don't worry, I'm sure things will get better from here on out," Nikki said, squeezing her arm lightly before turning and heading home.

Zelda waited for her to cross the bridge before spinning on her heel in search of Link. Although everything she'd told Nikki was technically true, it would be better to coordinate their stories in case either of them were cornered by any of the townsfolk in the future.

She found him hunched over a washtub along the side of the house, rubbing a worn rag over what might have been an arm guard. She recognized the unique design as being part of the set he was wearing when he defeated Ganon, glowing orange swirls standing out vividly against the matte black. He didn't look up at her approach, engrossed in his task.

"I've just had a visit from Nikki, the local town gossip," Zelda informed him, starting to pace as she replayed the conversation in her mind. "I should have realized how it would look from the outside, the two of us sharing a house, but I think I managed to smooth things over. Still, I thought it would be better for us to be on the same page should anyone else ask, and... Are you even listening to me?" she asked, coming to a stop as she glared at his bowed head.

Link didn't look up or give any indication he'd heard her, continuing to rub the cloth back and forth in even strokes. The motions were smooth and rhythmic but with enough force behind them to make his long bangs brush across his cheek with each stroke.

"Link," Zelda tried again. "Link, can you hear me?"

He didn't even spare her a glance.

Zelda could feel the anxiety creeping up on her, its iron grip slowly closing around her chest. She took a deep, slow breath as her mind struggled to explain her knight's concerning behavior. Perhaps the repetitive movements had put him in a trance-like state that needed more than simply her voice to break? She moved closer, gripping his shoulder firmly and giving it a solid shake as she called his name. "Link!"

The swordsman continued to ignore her, focusing solely on the piece of armor in his hands.

Zelda dropped to her knees in front of him, worry turning to panic as she gazed up into his face. His features were completely blank, no crinkle around the eyes or slight furrow between his brows betraying any of his thoughts. He was just as unreadable to her in that moment as he was when he'd first taken on the mantle of her Appointed Knight.

"Link, please," she begged, fear making her voice tremble. "Look at me."

Her breath caught in her throat when he did just that, hope swelling within her only to be crushed just as quickly. His face held no recognition as he looked upon her, his once vibrant blue eyes now as empty and lifeless as those of a statue. Although his gaze was trained on her own, it felt as if he were staring straight through her. The sensation was startlingly familiar, despite the fact she'd only felt it once before. It was the same as on Hyrule Field only a week prior.

Zelda hadn't known what to expect from her knight once the Calamity was finally sealed away. One hundred years of imagined worst-case scenarios had seemed to come true when the swordsman had turned a deaf ear to her voice, not even looking at her until she had begged him to do so. His eyes were as lifeless then as they were now, focused but not really seeing anything in front of him. Reeling with her own inner turmoil at the time, she'd imagined anger or resentment lurking deep within that barren gaze. Now his eyes just looked...empty, like a blank canvas waiting for the first stroke from an artist's brush.

Comparing his actions (or lack thereof) to what she'd witnessed from him over the past several days, it seemed likely he was experiencing another bout of memory loss. However that didn't explain why he was acting so strangely. Perhaps these episodes were like waking up in the Shrine all over again? Link couldn't remember what happened during them, so it wasn't unreasonable to assume the rest of his memories may have been inaccessible to him as well. What if his seemingly emotionless state was simply because he didn't know how he should react?

"Link," Zelda began, holding his unblinking gaze, "do you know who I am?"

Link remained silent.

"Do you know where you are?" she tried again. "Do you know who you are?"

Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his face, the swordsman once more seemingly deaf to her words.

Zelda was reminded of the years of daily prayers at the goddess statues, pouring out her heart to the stone visage only to be met with nothing but silence in return. "Please, give me some sort of sign so I know you're still in there," she pleaded, reaching out to gently cup his cheek.

Link just continued to stare at her, still dragging the rag across the armguard in even strokes.

Zelda rose to her feet and turned away, unable to bear his soulless gaze any longer. It seemed as though his mind was simply gone, as if the lanterns were lit and the hearth burned but no one was home. The first time she had witnessed it, the emotional aftermath of being shunned by Link, followed by hours of tense silence as they headed to the stable, had sent her imagination running wild with theories and reasons for why he now despised her. The radical change in his personality should have been obvious the following day once he had started talking to her again, even more so after he'd informed her of his most recent memory loss. She was ashamed to realize her pain from the harsh treatment had completely over-shadowed the uncharacteristic and concerning behavior of her knight.

What could strip a person so completely of their personality, of the very essence that made them who they were? Was the Shrine still wreaking havoc on his mind or was it something else entirely? Either way, it was getting worse.

Link had said it only happened once or twice a month, with a few weeks in between. Two incidents a week apart showed escalation at a rapid rate and until they found what triggered these episodes, they had no hope of stopping them. Would they continue to increase in frequency and duration until Link was trapped in this state permanently?

Zelda had started pacing during her musings, feeling Link's gaze on her the entire time. It was reminiscent of the early days of their acquaintance, the unease settling into the tense set of her shoulders. A quick glance showed his blue gaze was still trained on her, tracking her every movement. In that moment, she felt very much like a mouse being stalked by a cat.

The analogy was ridiculous- she knew she had nothing to fear from her knight -but the feel of his lifeless gaze focused on her so intently was a bit unnerving. The only times she'd seen him so fixated was when he was fighting or cooking. Neither one was particularly comforting at the moment.

The situation was already stressful enough without feeling his eyes boring into her. "Please stop!" she cried, whirling to face him.

Link's gaze did not leave her but his hands finally stilled, the arm guard in one hand with the cloth dangling from the other.

Zelda blinked at the reaction, surprise temporarily overriding her anxiety. Now that she thought about it, hadn't she asked him to look at her earlier? "Look away," she said, testing it out.

Link immediately dropped his gaze, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

Thrilled to be finally getting some response, Zelda gave him a few more commands ('put down that down,' 'stand up,' 'turn around'), which he did without any hesitation. He proved unable to answer questions when directed to nod for 'yes' and shake his head for 'no,' but it still felt like they were making progress.

Wanting to see if he could follow more complex directives, Zelda was about to ask him to get his horse ready to ride when she remembered a marionette play she'd seen as a child. The dolls had moved back and forth across the stage, expertly manipulated by the puppeteer for the audience's amusement. Although able to move under his own power, Link was just like that marionette, simply doing what he was told with no free will of his own. Zelda felt a bit sick when she realized she was the one pulling his strings for her own satisfaction.

Link's current limitations weren't important right now- getting him back to normal was. Unfortunately she had no idea how to do that. Last time, he'd been back to himself when he woke the following morning, but all the other incidents wore off on their own a few hours later. Although they'd discussed it extensively while on the road, neither she nor Link had been able to find any common denominators.

With a start, Zelda realized she'd forgotten one very important resource currently at her disposal and the whole reason for their trip to Hateno in the first place: Purah. The researcher might be able to shed some light on Link's condition now that they had new symptoms. Even if she couldn't, Zelda was certain the director would want to examine him again to see if there were any physical differences.

Although still feeling a bit like a puppeteer, Zelda didn't have any other way to get Link up to the lab except under his own power. "Go to Purah's lab- the Ancient Tech Lab on top of the hill," she said, belatedly wondering if he knew where that was in his current state. Perhaps she should have just told him to follow her?

Before Zelda could change the command, Link pulled the Sheikah slate from his belt. Intrigued, Zelda watched as he tapped the screen a few times before replacing it on its hook. Before she could even question what he was doing- not that he'd be able to answer -he rose up a few inches off the ground, as if his own personal gravity field had been turned off. His entire body started glowing a bright blue, turning into pure energy and breaking apart into strands of light that wound their way up into the sky before fading away.

The entire process only took a few seconds, leaving Zelda gapping at the spot where Link had disappeared in shock. What had just happened? Where was Link? Since when could the slate do...whatever that was? She shook her head, trying to focus. The slate's functions weren't as important as Link's current location. She glanced back up, scanning the sky in the hopes that blue strands might come back and rematerialize into her knight, but there was nothing.

The top of the tech lab visible in the distance caught her eye. Her last order had been to head there, so Zelda quickly set off down the road; praying that was where she would find her missing swordsman. Was that light a faster way to travel? If so, why hadn't he mentioned anything about it before? Was it dangerous? She shook her head, banishing the distracting thoughts from her mind as she jogged across the bridge. First, she had to find Link and make sure he was all right. Everything else would come after.

The long hand of the clock twitched forward, its tip landing on the twelve as a small bell was struck five times. Symin sat up from his hunched position, raising his arms over his head in a stretch and groaning when his spine cracked. His jaw opened wide in a yawn before he slumped forward again, catching his head in his hands as his fingers slid beneath his glasses and rubbed the dryness from his eyes. His bleary gaze landed on the yellowed pages of the research journal on the table in front of him, letting out a sigh.

"It's probably time for a break anyway," he mused, pushing his chair back and heading for the kitchen. "I wonder if Ms. Purah will be back by the time dinner is ready?"

Cooking didn't necessarily fall within his duties as the director's assistant, but he'd found out long ago that Ms. Purah was an absolute nightmare in the kitchen. Although not by any means a master chef himself, he could at least make a decent meal.

While the shelves weren't completely bare, it was enough to remind Symin that today was usually the day he headed to the market to buy groceries. "I guess I got a little too caught up going over Ms. Purah's notes," he muttered in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his head. "But it looks like we have enough ingredients for curry. The director likes it sweet though. I wonder if the apples are ripe yet," he mused, starting the rice before heading outside.

Symin jumped when he opened the door to find Link standing on the other side of it. "Link! Forgive me, I didn't hear you knock," he apologized, stepping back and opening the door fully. "Please, come in."

Link stepped over the threshold, allowing Symin to close the door behind him. "Have a seat. The director's not here right now, but I believe she'll be back soon. I'll put some tea on," he said, stepping back into the kitchen to heat some water.

Link had taken the seat he'd vacated minutes earlier, the old book still open on the table. "I'll get that out of your way," the Sheikah said, placing a loose sheet between the pages to mark his place. "This is one of the director's research journals from when she was studying the Shrine of Resurrection," he explained, adding it to a small stack of similar books. "I don't know how long it will take to clear the road leading up to the Great Plateau, but I thought I should start re-familiarizing myself with her notes on the Shrine."

Link didn't reply, staring straight ahead. The swordsman had never really been one for idle chatter in Symin's admittedly limited experience, but he'd usually at least acknowledge when someone was speaking to him. It was then that Symin belatedly realized Link had come alone.

"Is...everything alright between you and the princess?" he asked carefully. He may not know their exact relation, but her behavior the previous night indicated she cared for the swordsman, though whether as a friend or something more, Symin didn't know. Link's feelings on the matter were anyone's guess. "Did you two have a fight?"

Link did not confirm or deny the researcher's guess, continuing to stare stone-faced at the wall.

Symin was suddenly reminded of when he'd first come to work as Ms. Purah's assistant. He'd grown up on stories of the princess and the hero, and was curious what they were like. As Purah had known both of them before the Great Calamity, he'd asked her about it. She'd described Link as being 'frighteningly destructive with a pot lid, but with the personality of a rock.'

Symin still didn't know if she'd been joking (using a pot lid to reflect a Guardian's beam back at it, completely destroying the machine in the process, seemed a bit far-fetched), but looking at the swordsman now he could see why she'd compared him to a stone. There was nothing about his expression or body language that even hinted at what he was thinking. Symin couldn't help but wonder if Link had ever tried his hand at gambling.

"Forgive me, it's none of my business," he apologized, taking the seat across from Link. "I recall some of the townsfolk took up mining a few years back; at least, until a stone talus moved into the quarry," he said, changing the subject. "Ms. Purah said she was going to talk to them about excavating the road up to the Great Plateau. If they refuse, we'll likely have to head for Goron City."

Link remained silent and still, giving no indication that he was listening at all. It was starting to make Symin concerned. "Are you alright Link?" he asked, moving to put himself directly in the swordsman's line of sight. Link didn't even twitch, staring right through Symin as if he wasn't even there. Symin raised his hand, slowly moving it back and forth in front of Link's eyes. No reaction. "Link!" he called sharply, reaching across the table to slap his cheek a couple times. The knight's head turned to the side from the force, but nothing more.

Worry rising, Symin grabbed a cup from the kitchen and dipped it in the water bucket, only keeping a small amount in the bottom and pouring out the rest. Returning to the main room, he unceremoniously tossed the cold water into Link's face. Blue eyes reflexively closed before the liquid hit, opening once more as the water slid down his jaw and dripped from his chin. While not much of a reaction, it was something at least.

The research they'd conducted at the lab had required Symin to learn at least the basics of medicine. While he could understand the few medical journals they'd managed to procure, Symin was in no way a doctor. However his Sheikah training had covered poisons extensively. He didn't know of anything that would put a person in such a state, but it seemed likely that foul play of some variety was at work.

He quickly stepped around the table, turning Link's head and pulling his jaw down to peer into his mouth. The teeth looked normal, there was no swelling or discoloration of the tongue or throat and Symin couldn't smell anything suspicious on his breath.

"Perhaps a dart of some sort?" Symin mused, stepping behind the swordsman. "Let's have you look straight ahead-" Symin froze, feeling Link moving his head in the muttered direction beneath his hands. He moved back in front of the knight, leaning across the table to peer into his face as he called his name again. The empty blue gaze continued to stare past him, focused on something no one else could see.

Symin couldn't decide if Link was aware or not. Had he imagined the movement? "Look down," he said.

Link's chin dropped to his chest.

"Raise your hand," he tried again.

Link's right hand lifted into the air.

"Nod if you're aware of what's going on around you."

Link remained still.

Symin's lips thinned at the implications. Someone had seemingly managed to rob the swordsman of his free will and sense of self, leaving him a mindless puppet anyone could control. Who could have done such a thing? And how did the swordsman end up at the lab?

Symin shook his head, putting aside those questions for later. Poison still seemed the most likely explanation and discovering how it was administered might help them identify it. Moving behind Link once more, he continued his examination.

There were no pinpricks indicative of a dart wound on his neck, around his collar or on his arms. It was less likely a dart would have pierced his layers of clothing, but still a possibility. "Link, I need you to remove your tunic and undershirt," he instructed.

Link's hands went to his baldric, eyes staring blankly ahead as his fingers pulled the leather strap through the buckle. He pulled the Master Sword around his shoulder by the harness, dropping the whole thing on the table. His entire body froze as he released the sword, fingers hovering over in midair.

Symin watched intently, hoping that whatever it was had worn off and swordsman was back to himself. "Link...?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

The silence only lasted a few seconds but felt much longer as Symin held his breath, waiting. Finally Link pulled away from the table and turned, that empty look replaced by rage. With a cry of primal fury and death shining in his eyes, he launched himself at the aged Sheikah, fingers closing around Symin's throat.

To Be Continued

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