VIII - One More Lie


Paya watched Sheik press a cube of ice wrapped in cloth against his swollen cheek and eye, leaning his head against the wall. Toran had been pretty rough on him for nothing, really. Paya knew that Toran would lose no opportunity to punish or beat Sheik up, no matter the cause. Coming back to Karusa valley after a failed assassination – alive and alone, and half a day later than the few other Yiga survivors – apparently brought on enough suspicion. Paya felt that Sheik had not told the whole truth.

"Do you need more ice?"

"I am fine," he mumbled, and gave her the damp cloth back, the ice completely molten from the warmth of his skin.

"He is not being easy on you, is he?"

Sheik shrugged. "It doesn't really matter."

Sheik completely baring his face was a rare sight, and Paya caught herself staring at his cheek. She genuinely enjoyed looking at his face despite the long scar, reaching from the corner of his lip to his right ear. Though faded in colour in some places, it was still obvious that the cut had been deep, most probably inflicted by a knife.

Heck, she somehow enjoyed being around him, although he was anything but friendly to her. But then again, he was friendly to no one.

"How did this happen?" she asked. Gingerly.

"That's none of your business," Sheik snapped.

"I am sorry." Paya bit her lip. She realised that she had crossed a boundary. Sheik was manifestly very conscious and sensitive about the mark on his face.

"Can you...tell me what happened in Tabantha?"

"I already told Valen. Do you have a specific interest in the matter?"

"I..." she started, "I just feel like you didn't tell the whole truth."

He laughed quietly and her heart jumped. A rare sight.

"Look who's talking."

"What did you see? What attacked you?"

Sheik gave her a look that she could not quite read, but he definitely knew more than he told Valen.

"Well...do you know anything about ancient Sheikah machines?"


When Paya entered her chamber that night, she put out the light of the lantern and stored it away in a cupboard. Peeking out of the window (if you could even call it a window, more like an opening in the wall covered by wooden shutters), she made sure that no one had followed her – which was ridiculous, really, because where else would she go to sleep – then lit a small candle. She removed the rug from the floor, grabbed a loose floorboard and put it aside. She reached into the small hole and pulled out a bundle, placing it on the floor. Unwrapping the cloth, she took the rectangular object in both hands and with a touch of her finger, activated its mechanism. The smooth surface lit up in a light blue as the Sheikah symbol appeared, bathing the room in a soft, blue glow.

"Activate connection. Call Impa," she whispered, and waited. The Sheikah eye disappeared, the screen became black and then, after a short while, lit up again. Impa's slightly distorted face appeared on the screen.

"Grandmother," she whispered, "something has happened a few days ago in Tabantha."

Impa's image nodded. "A rogue guardian. I have already been informed."

"What are they?"

"We're still in the middle of research, but Robbie and Purah have made outstanding progress in deciphering the processors. These machines have been built by our ancestors hundreds of years ago. They are war machines, defence mechanisms, built for one single purpose: protect the royal family of Hyrule."

"Grandmother... there is something I haven't told you yet." Paya bit her lip as Impa furrowed a brow.

"I am listening."

"Do you know...someone named Sheik?"

Impa fell silent, but Paya could see in her face that the name was by no means strange to her.

"Is he in Karusa valley?"

Paya nodded, her heart suddenly beating very fast in her chest.

"Paya, stay away from him. He must never know who you really are. And make sure he never lays hands on the Sheikah slate. Do you understand?"

"Grandmother, who is he?"

"Sheik...is the most talented fighter I have ever trained." Impa took a deep breath.

"Paya, I want you to return to Kakariko soon. I fear for your safety. As soon as you have found out what the Gerudo and Yiga are planning and have reported back to me, you will find a way to leave that place. Do you hear me? I need to leave now. Make sure to hide the Sheikah slate well. It must never get into the wrong hands. Neither Sheik nor Valen can ever know about it. Take good care my dear child."

Impa's face vanished, and the screen went black. Paya dropped the Sheikah slate in her lap and swallowed. If what Impa told her was true, then she could indeed be in danger.

A sudden knock on the door startled her, and she quickly wrapped the cloth around the slate, and stored it back under the loose floorboard. She hastily rearranged the rug and called "come in". The shadow outside her window quietly stole away when the door opened, and Telma walked in.

"Hello Paya."

"Telma! What brings you here?" Her voice sounded unusually shrill.

"I just wanted to come by. Is this a bad time?"

Paya let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding and relaxed.

"No, no. Please sit down."

Telma sat down on the only chair in the room and watched her curiously.

"What are you doing on the floor?"

"Oh...I...I just like to stretch before going to bed," she lied.

"I see. Hmmm...I saw you with Sheik earlier. Are you two getting along?" she asked in a slightly mocking tone.

Paya laughed. "No one gets along with Sheik."

"Exactly. Then why were you with him?"

She shrugged. "I guess I felt sorry for him. Toran beat him up pretty bad. I just brought him some ice to cool his swollen face."

"Paya," Telma began, looking directly at her, "be careful. I don't trust him. Don't put yourself in danger."

Paya swallowed. First Impa, and now Telma. Truth is, she had been in danger from the very start, from the day Impa had sent her to Karusa valley to spy on the Yiga, and not just after Sheik's arrival. As much as she wanted to confide in Telma, she could not.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

"Paya...by any means, do you...like him?"

"What?! No!" Paya screamed, but her cheeks turned the colour of ripe tomatoes and she was thankful for the dim light in the room. Her heart pounded in her chest.

"Be careful, my child. I am not sure anyone ever taught him how to love. Don't get your heart broken," Telma said as she got up from the chair, and it sounded sad. "Good night, Paya."

"Good night, Telma." She watched her friend walk out of the door and pressed her hand on her beating heart.

Do I... like him? she wondered. She wasn't sure how she felt about the Sheikah. He didn't give her butterflies, but fascinated her nonetheless. His cold red stare, the arrogant snarl, the pure Sheikah bloodline. His brittle personality. The rare broken look in his eyes after being beaten and humiliated. And then there was the scar, the hideous scar that he seemed to despise so much that every time someone asked about it, he'd snap. Paya thought it made him look dangerous and mysterious, despite being an obvious flaw, but not unsightly.

She shook her head. Both Impa and Telma had warned her about him, and she trusted both women.

When she lay in bed that night and stared at the ceiling, she couldn't stop thinking about Telma's words. I am not sure anyone ever taught him how to love. Perhaps there was more to him than they knew. Perhaps he wasn't such a bad person after all.


Had Paya known that the shadow outside her room, secretly watching her as she talked to Impa on the slate, was none other than Sheik, she would probably not have slept peacefully that night. Had she known that he would sneak into her room the next day and steal the slate, she would not have left it carelessly under the loose floorboard. But Paya knew nothing of this, and wholeheartedly believed that people were able to change for the better.


In castle far away, a girl her age lay awake in bed and was preoccupied by a whole different matter.


Zelda watched in awe from her balcony as the Sheikah engineers monitored the Guardian's every move. The machine scuttled back and forth on its spiderlike mechanical legs, its head spinning around. The single, blue eye kept on shooting small laser beams at moving targets – hitting with such speed and perfection, that her heart jumped with joy. She had always been fascinated by Sheikah technology, and after years and years of research, sponsored by none other than the king of Hyrule, the best Sheikah scientists and engineers had finally found a way to activate these ancient war machines. She saw Robbie wave at her from beneath, and she waved back enthusiastically. Robbie was a brilliant scientist, the best the Sheikah had to offer, but a tad eccentric (although that was still understated). Zelda had never seen him without his weird brass goggles and the wild hairstyle, and while he was quite popular among the researchers, he was also prone to rub people the wrong way.

She was so deep down in her admiration, that she did not notice that she was no longer alone.

"What are you doing here, Zelda?"

She winced. "F...father..."

The king of Hyrule, Rhoam Bosphoramus, was a an impressive man who had fought many battles in his younger years. He was said by many to rule Hyrule with an iron fist, a man hungry for power, and many either feared or loathed him.

"Why are you not studying? You have a crucial unfulfilled responsibility to your kingdom. Your nineteenth birthday is approaching, so why are you still acting like this is a child's game to you?!"

"I...I am doing everything I can, father," she protested, "I have been studying and praying and..."

"And now you are here wasting your time! You need to dedicate every moment to your training. Your mother awakened her powers when she was but a child! Now look at you."

Zelda gritted her teeth. It wasn't enough that she felt like a failure after every unheard prayer, after every unfruitful training. Now even her father had to remind her that she would never live up to his or Hyrule's expectation.

"Do you know how people refer to you? They say you are the heir to a throne...a throne of nothing."

Zelda felt tears well up in her eyes as she looked into her father's hard, unforgiving eyes. Does he even love me?

"Go back to your studies, Zelda. From now on, I won't tolerate any interference with your training on your behalf."

Her lips quivered as she tried to hold back the tears, and without another word, she turned around and walked back inside the castle. Once she was out of sight, she ran out of the room and into the corridor, bumping into someone. She stumbled backwards, but a firm hand steadied her.

"Easy now," the person said, and it was a nice voice, warm and caring.

As she lifted her head to apologise, her big green eyes, brimming with tears, looked into red ones.

"Are you alright, your majesty?" the woman asked, kneeling before her in a respectful manner.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, quickly walked away and hid behind the next corner. The woman had startled her. Though never having seen this woman in the castle, she was certain that she was none other than the Sheikah chieftain. Lady Impa.


Zelda knew that eavesdropping was not the noblest behaviour and not fit for a princess, but she couldn't help it. Even after being scolded by her father, her curiosity got the better of her. She pressed her ear flat against the door, concentrating on the voices inside the room. Her father's loud voice was very easy to comprehend; he was complementing Impa on her research and the ancient Guardians and boasting about how that made them superior over every other kingdom in the lands of Hyrule. Impa's smooth and quiet voice was much harder to understand, so the princess covered her free ear to block out all other noises.

"...in Tabantha...went rogue...dangerous..."

"It was an accident, lady Impa. The machine was flawed, that's all."

"...not fully control yet...destroy...cost lives..."

"We don't have that much time to spare. If we are not prepared, the Gerudo king will try to overthrow us. Speed up the process."

"...very well...majesty..."

Zelda pulled back as the voices died down and footsteps approached the door. She quickly ran down the corridor and all the way to the tower into her study, slamming the door behind her with a pounding heart. As she sat down behind her desk and calmed her breath, she tried to make sense of the few scraps of conversation she overheard.

An accident in Tabantha? A machine went rogue? Why did he seem so unconcerned?

She couldn't explain the feeling, nor could she shake it, but it wasn't a good one. Like a dark foreboding that pooled in the pit of her stomach, just like after waking from one of her many nightmares. Like a warning voice in the back of her head. She loved her father, but sometimes she feared that the gossip mongers were right: that his lust for power made him a ruthless king.

Has he always been like this? And why does he insist so much on my training? Why does he forbid that I get involved with ancient Sheikah technology? Is he hiding something from me?

A knock on the door distracted her from her thought train and she turned around in her chair. A young guard stuck his head in, bowing as he spotted her sitting at her desk. At a loss for words, he blushed and simply bowed again, quietly closing the door.

So he is controlling me, she thought bitterly.

She waited until the footsteps outside her door had receded, walked over to her overfilled shelf and, under a stack of inconspicuous books, pulled out a thin, leather notebook. She sat back down at her desk, opened the notebook at the last used page, and, under her drawings of the ancient Guardians, scribbled down the words: rogue Guardian in Tabantha, possibly no full control, danger?

She knew that if her father ever found that notebook, she would be in real trouble, but she could not refrain from satisfying her inexhaustible thirst for knowledge. She'd never been interested in fulfilling her role as a princess, and her handmaidens had despaired throughout her knitting and sewing lessons. Books were the only things she had always loved. Even as a child, she would sit by the fire and devour novel after novel, until she had read all the stories suitable for her age. After that, she had found a book about ancient history in her father's library, and from that day on, she would spend all day sitting on a cushion on the floor between piles and piles of books, studying the ancient world.

Still now she was secretly dreaming about becoming a scholar, working with the Sheikah to uncover new truths and findings, dig into the ancient history and technology of this mysterious tribe. She wanted to accomplish things, find something in her life that she was good at, something that would give her life meaning. Being born into the royal family was more a curse to her than a blessing, as her duties consisted in learning boring things, praying to the goddesses endlessly and...achieving nothing.

She bit her lip. On her sixteenth birthday, her life had taken a turn, when her stepmother initiated her training. Gone were the days of her childish freedom, and Zelda found herself sitting at her desk for hours and hours, practising her holy prayers. She didn't dislike her stepmother, but she was very strict, and Zelda missed her birth mother, a free spirit like herself who hated nothing more than being stuck in a dusty throne room. Her death still pained her, although the memory of her had faded a little over the years.

Zelda wanted to be like her so much, but her ongoing unsuccessful attempts to awaken her inherited powers and her father constantly reminding her of being a failure made the memory of her all the more painful.

She took a last glance at the scribbles and drawings, then closed the notebook and hid it away. Sighing, she opened her book of prayers and started repeating the dull words.