The snow sparkles in place of where the man had just been, melting in fractions under the warm rays of morning sunlight. You stare blankly at the empty space, processing.
He was a ghost. All this time, you've been following a ghost.
Is that why the voice couldn't speak to him?
You direct the question outwards, but you receive no answer. Your mind is disturbingly quiet.
You try to push down the uncomfortable feeling that brings to your throat. The voice will still be there, it's just quiet for now. It promised to give you answers, and so did the old ma—the ghost. Now you just need to find the meeting point.
You pull up the map on the Sheikah Slate and draw invisible lines with your fingers between the four shrines, the meeting point resting above what looks to be some sort of building detailed on the map. You think you know what it is.
It takes you a few more hours still to slog your way back down the wintry slopes, back into the temperate air of the Plateau (at which point you pull off the now-uncomfortably-warm doublet) and to find your way to the meeting point: the cathedral from before.
"The Temple of Time," the voice corrects you, and you're startled at the relief you feel hearing it again.
It really is a magnificent structure, built of hand-chiselled stone, but falling apart, overgrown with strands of ivy and surrounded by dozens of those spidery machines. Before going inside, you explore the rusted hunks—some of these one have legs, some are half-buried in the ground, and all of them are carpeted in patches of moss. Whatever happened with these things happened a long time ago.
You round back to the front to continue on through the front entrance—and are immediately sprung by a rogue bokoblin, which you quickly dispatch. The floor inside the Temple is carpeted in green spring grass, dotted with young flowers, and as you walk further inside you notice a glow from the altar at the far end of the hall, bearing the statue of a tall, winged woman.
"Ask for life force when you approach her," the voice tells you, without explanation.
Life force? What is that?
Once again, the voice provides no answer, just remains silent. You progress forward through the empty hall, the only sounds the soft crunching of grass beneath your feet, until you reach the statue and stand upon the platform before it.
You're not sure what else to do. The statue looms, silent. You reach forward and press your palm against the statue's carved skirts.
As if the clouds have suddenly cleared, rays of iridescent sun seem to shine down from the heavens and through the broken roof of the Temple, bathing the statue in sparkling light.
A voice once again speaks in your head: but this time, a different one. Softer, more feminine, graceful, ethereal.
"You who have conquered the shrines and claimed their Spirit Orbs. . . I can restore to you great power."
You gaze up at the motherly face of the statue, but the features have not moved. The lips remain closed.
"It appears you have claimed four Spirit Orbs," the voice continues. "In exchange for four Spirit Orbs, I will amplify your being . . . so tell me what it is that you desire."
You remember the other voice's word from before.
He told you to ask for "life force", right?
"You wish for life force to be restored, yes?" the ethereal voice asks, and you nod. The statue almost seems to smile down at you. "I shall grant the power you seek."
The light bathing the statue seems to move to envelope you, and you feel yourself infused with something warm, a stark contrast to the coldness of the spirit orbs.
"Your life force has been strengthened, increasing your base constitution," the voice continues. "Go now, and bring peace to Hyrule."
And just like that, the light from above disappears, leaving you standing alone with the silent statue, carved skirts bathed in climbing moss.
"Oho hoho!"
You hear that rumbling laugh from somewhere above you and look up—there is the ghost of the old man, peering down at you through a hole in the roof, blue flames dancing around his figure.
"The blessing of the Goddess has made you that much more resilient, I see," he calls down to you. "Now get up here, quickly!"
And then he recedes from view again, leaving you still with no answers.
You exit through the broken side wall of the Temple, treading carefully through the tangled legs of more machines, and then scale one of the jutting supporting columns of the building up to the roof. You can feel something different within you—you feel still the strain in your muscles, and your breath still comes fast, but you feel. . . stronger, somehow. More alive than you had been before.
When you pull yourself onto the roof the old man is nowhere in sight—but off to the right, positioned at the front of the Temple, is what you assume to be the bell tower, still standing in impressive condition. You step carefully over the splintered wooden roof slats up to the apex of the temple, and then balance along that to the bell tower, and step up and in.
The old man is standing there waiting for you, back to the high arched windows looking out onto the Plateau, surrounded by those strange, floating blue flames. When you meet his eyes, he breaks into a warm smile.
"Well done there, young man!" His voice is warm and enriching, exciteable. "Now then. . . The time has come to show you who I truly am."
He lifts his head, there's a flash of light, and you shield your eyes from the brightness. . . And when you look up again, the man is no longer in his tattered old hood, but floating proud, upright in the sunlight streaming through the windows, clad in royal blue and white garb-face fully in view. His squared features tug at something in yourself—black, cropped hair streaked through with grey, and a golden crown atop his head, stylised with the same wing-like designs you saw on the Great Plateau walls.
"I am King James Egbert of Hyrule," he says, and the light catching his angled features is striking, making him look that much more regal. "I was. . . the last leader of Hyrule." He pauses for a moment, words heavy. "A kingdom which no longer exists."
You gaze past him through the smashed windows of the bell tower and out onto the Plateau, over the scattered ruins and overgrown paths.
The King dips his head. "The Great Calamity was merciless. It devastated everything in its path a century ago. Many towns were destroyed, many lives were lost. . . as was mine." He hovers above the ground, robes swaying in an invisible wind. "And since that time I have remained in spirit form, bound to this plane."
He turns and floats towards the window, looking out at the castle in the distance, enshrouded in that menacing fog.
"I . . . did not think it wise to overwhelm you while your memory was still fragile. So rather than that, I thought it best to assume a temporary form."
He turns to give you an apologetic nod over his shoulder. "Forgive me."
Your memory. . . fragile. But from what? From the Sheikah tech like the voice had said—the place you woke up in?
"I think you are now ready. I'm sure the Goddess' power has strengthened you, so I am now comfortable in telling you what happened one hundred years ago."
He reaches out a hand to you, and you uncertainly approach. The hand remains out and upturned, so you place your own in it—and your vision goes white. Floundering, you manage to stay upright, hands connected, and when you steady yourself you open your eyes. . . to find an entirely different view in front of you: the castle, enshrouded with fog but much, much closer, as if you were standing right before it.
"The being that caused and maintains the Great Calamity is known as Lord English." The King's voice echoes in your ears, as if he is still standing right beside you. In the vision, a near-formless beast with horns and glowing yellow eyes emerges from the black and green mist, rising to circle around the highest spire. "The demon king was born into this kingdom as an ordinary man, but his transformation into Malice created the entity you see today."
The vision changes; papyrus scrolls, depicting a colourful rendition of a pig-like monster with fiery red hair, flanked by a woman in white with golden hair to the left, and a sword-wielding warrior to the right.
"Stories of English were passed from generation to generation in the form of legends and fairy tales. . . but there was also a prophecy: 'The signs of a resurrection of Lord English are clear, And the power to oppose it lies dormant beneath the ground.'"
The vision changes to a scene of white-haired people working away at walls of red rock, like you saw in the desert-like grasslands from atop the mountain.
"We decided to heed the prophecy and began excavating large areas of land. It wasn't long before we discovered several ancient relics made by the hands of our distant ancestors."
Part of the rock wall crumbles to reveal what seems to be the head of an incredibly large machine, dwarfing the (now in comparison) ant-sized men.
"These relics, the Divine Beasts, were giant machines piloted by warriors."
The vision changes again to a scene in the grasslands, a small group of the same white-haired people gathered around one of the rusted hunks you've seen scattered around.
"We also found the Guardians, an army of mechanical soldiers who fought autonomously."
The vision returns to the papyrus scroll, now focussed on the design of a camel-like creature—machine? —with a long-haired figure atop. . . piloting, perhaps? Was this one of the aforementioned warriors?
"This coincided with ancient legends, oft repeated throughout our land."
The scene drifts to three other depictions of great mechanic beasts, each with a unique rider, before settling back on the woman with the golden hair.
"We also learned of a princess with a sacred power. . ."—the scene shifts to the warrior—". . . and her appointed knight, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness. It was they who sealed English away using the power of these ancient relics."
The scroll is replaced with a scene of two figures atop a wide dais, facing each other, with one standing in the centre and the second standing a few paces in front. The dazzling light in the vision casts them as silhouettes with no discernible features.
"One hundred years ago, there was an Heir set to inherit a sacred power and a skilled Knight at his side—it was clear that we must follow our ancestors' path. We also selected four skilled individuals from across Hyrule and tasked them with the duty of piloting the Divine Beasts."
The vision flashes to a similar scene, still with the two figures on the dais, but with an added four extra silhouettes, all facing the person in the middle.
"With the Heir as their commander, we dubbed these pilots Champions—a name that would solidify their unique bond."
As you watch, the five outer figures kneel before the last one in the centre—the prince. Then the vision changes again to another shot of the castle, clear and unhindered by any sort of fog, standing tall and whole in the sun.
"The Heir, his appointed Knight, and the rest of the Champions were on the brink of sealing away English. . . but he was cunning, and he responded with a plan beyond our imagining."
The fog you're now accustomed to materialises and swirls around the castle, before shooting out bolts of green, which the vision follows as they sink into numerous Guardians and into what you can only assume to be the Divine Beasts, once-blue eyes now flashing green.
"He appeared from deep below Hyrule Castle, seized control of the Guardians and the Divine Beasts, and turned them against us. The Champions lost their lives. Those residing in the castle as well."
The vision cuts to follow a single Guardian, ablaze with green, running through a flaming township—lasers flashing, buildings crumbling.
"The appointed Knight, gravely wounded, collapsed while defending the Heir. . . and thus, the kingdom of Hyrule was devastated absolutely by Lord English."
The vision cuts to black.
"However. . ."
The shadow lifts to reveal a young man standing facing the castle, roiling stormclouds above streaked through with green.
"The Heir survived. . . to face English alone."
As you watch, the prince raises his hand towards the castle, and you hear that familiar voice. . .
"Dave. . ."
As his arm reaches its apex, a familiar triangular symbol flashes into existence on the back of his hand, and an explosion of light bursts forth—the formless, horned monster patrolling above sees the light and dives down, opening its jaws—
"Please. . . help me."
Black.
And then you're standing again in the bell tower with the King, blinking furiously from the harsh light, head blurry. You feel the King let go of your hand, and when he speaks, you can almost feel the deep rumble in your chest, you're standing so close to him.
"That Heir was my own son. . . my dearest John."
John. That name. His son. He's the King, so his son is the prince—the prince's name is John—
"And the courageous Knight of Time who protected him right up to the very end. . ."
As your vision begins to clear, the King turns to face you, expression set in stone.
"That Knight was none other than you, Dave."
Your mind goes quiet.
. . .
. . . . .
. . . You.
. . . A knight.
. . . . . The prince's knight. John's Knight.
The pieces begin to click into place.
"You fought valiantly when your fate took an unfortunate turn."
You snap back to attention to find the King moving away from you, face angled downwards. . . in sadness?
"And then, you were taken to the Shrine of Resurrection. Here you now stand revitalised, one hundred years later."
One hundred years later. The words hit you with great ferocity. You've been sleeping, in that place. . . for one hundred years?
"The words of guidance you have been hearing since your awakening are from the Heir of Breath—John—himself. Even now, as he works to restrain Lord English from within Hyrule Castle, he calls out for you."
Your chest is roiling with all sorts of uncomfortable emotions. A kingdom destroyed? You, a Knight? The voice in your head, the Heir? John? One hundred years?
"However, my son's power will soon be exhausted." Your eyes flick up again to meet the King's, heavy with the weight of his words, with the weight of his regret. "Once that happens, Lord English will freely regenerate himself and nothing will stop him from consuming our land."
The King pauses for a moment, allowing his words to sink in, and when he speaks again, it is quiet.
"I have no right to ask you of this, Dave. . . considering I could not even save my own kingdom. . ." His shoulders slump, bearing the weight of the world. "But I am powerless here. You must help him. . . my son. My John." His jaw sets in a hard line, and he clenches his fists. "And so whatever it takes to annihilate Lord English."
His words linger in the air, sharp as steel, before he unclenches his hands and turns once again to gaze out the window. "Somehow, Ganon has maintained control over all four Divine Beasts, as well as those Guardians swarming around Hyrule Castle. I believe it would be quite reckless for you to head directly to the castle at this point."
He sighs, and turns to look at you. "I suggest that first you make your way east, out to one of the villages in the wilderness." Gesturing you over to stand beside him, he points out the collapsed side of the tower to the strange mountain—mountains? —in the distance, the one with the split down the middle, and the great hole in its side.
"Make your way past the twin summits of the Duelling Peaks, and from there, follow the road as it proceeds north, out to Kakariko Village. There, you will find the Seer of Light. . . Rose. She will tell you more about the path that lies ahead."
The King brings his hand back down to his side and gestures to your hip.
"The map on your Sheikah Slate should be marked with the precise location of Kakariko Village. Good luck." He sighs. "And with that. . . Here is the paraglider, just as I promised."
From seemingly out of nowhere, he produces the paraglider and hands it to you. It is small and incredibly compact, folded in your hands and designed to sit flat against your back, but you have seen the impressive wingspan it boasts.
"With that, you should be able to safely fly off the cliffs surrounding this area. And. . . I think that's all. I've told you all I can, Dave."
The King once again starts to dissipate, growing translucent and voice fading, but before he disappears completely, he lays a hand on your shoulder.
"Please, Dave. Take care of my son."
And then he vanishes, no trace but for the lingering blue flames in his place, which subsequently extinguish in the gentle breeze.
You simply stand there for a moment in the silence, feeling the breeze in your hair, the sun on your face. You turn slightly to gaze out at the enshrouded castle in the distance.
So your mission. . . is to destroy Lord English.
But first, you need to travel to Kakariko Village to seek out the Seer. Rose.
You unhitch the Sheikah Slate and check the map function, a new location now marked with another golden pin. . . but lost in a sea of black, of unavailable data. Beyond the borders of the Great Plateau, you have no guidance as for the layout of terrain you will encounter.
You clasp the Slate back onto your belt and turn to the window, ready to get down from here, but something catches your eye—a seemingly deliberately-left chest in the corner of the small room. You approach and crouch down to open it.
Inside you find a bundle of arrows, a well-made quiver to hold them, and sturdy-looking bow, reinforced with metal.
"That's a standard-issue Soldier's Bow," the voice—John—tells you. "Essential for every recognised guard and solider. It'll be so much better than that boko bow you've got. Won't break as easily, for one. For two, the string's tighter so the arrows fire faster, which means greater damage."
A prince, and a weapon's expert now, are you? you beam back to him as you trade in your boko bow.
"Hah! Wow, it's. . . almost like hearing your voice again." You can hear something strained in his words. "It's. . . so different. To before."
Different how? you ask, standing up.
"Well, I . . . it feels like something's changed. You're. . . not as empty as before. That sounds strange. I guess. . . it feels. . . familiar again, maybe."
I do feel. . . different, you reply, and stop to think. I feel. . . I don't know, more human somehow. Like I've woken up from a dream, maybe. I'm feeling a lot more. I'm thinking a lot more. Maybe not more, but with words. With a voice that. . . I think might be mine. You pause for a beat. I think. . . I think what the King showed me changed something. I'm not sure.
He's silent for a moment, and you can almost feel him contemplating. We knew each other, right? you ask.
"Yes, of course! We. . . heh. . . we went together everywhere."
Were we friends?
He pauses at that. Moments tick by in silence, and you patiently wait.
"Uh. . ."
You don't know what sort of answer you were expecting, but you weren't expecting him to sound hesitant.
"Yeah, we were. . . we were really close. Heh. Good friends. Best friends."
Good friends or best friends? you shoot back. Something does feel different with you—but it feels better. It feels genuine. You can feel a long-dormant spark igniting in you somewhere.
"Heheh! Well, best friends, I guess! Yeah, we were close."
Right. You think for a moment. I'm. . . glad to have that opportunity again.
". . . You are?"
He sounds so hesitant, so uncertain, and you frown a little.
Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?
"I. . ." He doesn't seem to have an answer for this. He pauses for a moment, and then sighs. "I guess it's strange thinking that you want to be my friend when you can't even remember me."
I think I can understand that.
"Heh, it's super weird. Talking to you again after a hundred years."
I can bet.
You hear him give a quiet laugh, and smile. Well, new journey companion—I think it's time to get down from here.
You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies. "Ooh, yeah! Time to test out that new paraglider!"
Is it really new? you tease as you take it out and easily assemble it. Considering your father has been holding onto it for who knows how long?
"Oh, shut up!" he exclaims, but you can hear the playfulness in his voice. This is. . . nice.
Holding the paraglider above your head, you leap from the bell tower window and immediately feel the sail catch on the breeze, arms jolting from the weight of your body beneath. You glide peacefully for a few yards. . . and then lose your grip with your right hand, and the glider veers sharply to the left.
Shit, you think, hurriedly reattaching your hand—but by now an incredibly poorly-timed wind has picked up, and utilising your angle blows you entirely off-course, over most of the Plateau, past the first shrine, and over the forest beyond.
"Oh noooo!" John cries in your head, with you along for the ride.
How do you land this thing? You snap your wrists, disassembling the glider, and you drop, falling towards the trees, and then click it together again, motion arrested by the sail. You glide for a little longer, over to a gap in the canopy, and then snap, drop, click, glide, and snap once again, and you drop lightly to your feet on the grass below.
At least the controls are easy enough, you suppose. They shouldn't be too hard to master. Besides, it wasn't your fault the wind flared up. It's not like you steered yourself into this forest.
"Sure, wise guy, whatever you say," John scoffs, and you would lightly elbow him if you could.
I'd like to see you try handling this thing first time, you quip.
"Dave, it really doesn't look that hard. I think you're just a big nerd who can't paraglide."
Looks can be deceiving, you return, and slip the glider across your back. For paragliders and for people.
He snickers at that, and you smile faintly before rechecking your map. You're not too far away from where you want to be, maybe a twenty-minute walk at most, but you are facing the wrong direction, so you reorient yourself and snap it back into place before continuing forward.
"Oooh, what's that?"
You stop and look around.
What's what?
"Look, there's a cute yellow flower over there! There, by the huge fallen tree trunk!"
You look and he's right—there is an enormous, hollowed fallen tree trunk, providing a sort of tunnel through the forest a few yards off, the entrance marked by an unusually tall yellow flower.
"You should go check it out!"
I'm on a mission to save the world, remember? you reply, but approach the flower anyway.
"And I'm currently saving the world! Can't I have some fun?"
I guess you can, you tell him, and reach out for the flower—but it disappears in a burst of leaves. You hear a rustling sound and a pop! —and look up to find the exact same flower, popped up a few paces away, almost as if teasing you.
"Whoa, that's so cool! Dave, go after it!"
You shrug and approach the second flower, reaching out—it vanishes too, then pop!, another flower yet another few paces away.
You follow the flowers through the length of the hollow trunk, disappearing as soon as you reach them and reappearing someplace else, until finally at the end of the trunk appears a white flower. You approach and with another burst of leaves, the flower disappears, and in its place pops up a strange little creature, a large leaf frond on its face, and it talks to you in a high-pitched squeak.
"Yahaha! You found me!"
The creature freezes for a moment, staring at you, and then blanches slightly.
"Huh? You're not Hestu!"
Hestu? Do you know anything about a Hestu?
"No clue. But aawww, it's so cute! What do you think it is?"
Before you can reply, the creature speaks up again.
"But you can...see me? I didn't know your kind could see the children of the forest!" It dances happily, waving a pair of twigs in the air, and produces a small object that it holds out to you. "Well, if you run into Hestu, please return this to him!"
It. . . appears to be a small, yellow sort of seed. It has a very. . . distinct smell to it. You can't quite place a finger on what it is. You raise your hand, but leave it hanging there, uncertain.
"Oooh, take it, take it!" John exclaims in excitement. "I know what it is! Children of the forest—that's a Korok! They're supposed to be good luck—I heard stories as a kid, but oh wow, I never thought they'd be real! Take it!"
You hesitantly accept the seed and even though you can't see its real face, you're sure the korok is beaming at you.
"Oh, and mister, my friends are hiding in lots of different places too! Don't be shy about poking your nose into suspicious places!"
"There's more of them?" John gasps. "How many more? Oh wow, do you think there could be hundreds? Thousands? Oh, that's so cool! I wonder what the seeds are for? Who's Hestu?"
With John's questions rattling in your mind, you can only give the korok a cursory nod. It giggles at you and waves its twigs. "Twee hee!" . . . You wonder what it's so happy about.
Making sure to check your map, you begin to head east towards the Duelling Peaks.
Hey, John?
"Yeah?"
Do you know why we can speak to each other like this?
He falls silent.
I mean. . . I couldn't talk to the King like this. And he never mentioned speaking to you, either. So why can we talk without being present?
"Uhh. . . Hehe." Again, the nervousness. "Well. . . that's. . . kind of complicated."
I slept for one hundred years and woke up in a healing shrine. Try me.
"Uh. . . well. . ." He hesitates for a moment, then sighs. "Uhm. . . it's. . . kind of something people can do when they get close to each other."
Like best friends?
"Well. . ." His tone sounds uncomfortable, and you can almost imagine him shifting. "Uh. . . yeah. Kinda."
What do you mean, 'kinda'?
"Uh. . . I guess it's just really complicated to try to explain. And I don't really know exactly how it works myself."
You feel like there's definitely something he's not telling you, but, well. . . you really only just got reacquainted with each other. You figure he's allowed his secrets for the time being, so you decide to change the subject.
So, this. . . Rose. Do you know her?
You can hear the smile in his voice when he responds. "Rose, yeah! She's so cool. We were all super close way back then."
'All'? Who's 'all'?
"Oh, just. . . you, me, Rose and Jade."
You mentioned Jade before. Who's that?
"One of our friends."
So. . . where is she? Can I meet her?
A pregnant pause.
"Um. . . no."
Oh. Why not?
". . . ."
The silence is tense, but you wait.
". . . She . . . She's dead."
Oh.
"She. . . was killed in the Great Calamity."
. . . But Rose survived?
"Yeah! Rose wasn't on the frontlines, so. . . she got a bit more protection."
But. . . the Calamity was one hundred years ago.
"Yeah, and?"
So. . . Rose must be really old.
John falls silent for a moment.
"Huh. . . I guess. . . you're right. I didn't really think about that."
You didn't age either then?
"No. I think it has something to do with my powers."
And me?
"I'd guess the Shrine of Resurrection put your ageing process into stasis."
Alright. I. . . I guess that makes sense.
". . . ."
And Rose didn't have either of those.
"No."
Now out of the forest and striding across the plains of the Great Plateau, you both have a moment to think. You wonder if Rose is still as capable as she used to be. You suppose she's the Seer of the village, so it at least sounds like she's still doing well. You wonder what she's like.
"She's great. You'll really like her."
You think so?
"Well, you both got along really well back then! Why wouldn't it be the same now?"
I suppose you're right. Only way to tell.
"Yeah."
Reaching the manmade Plateau walls, you unfold the paraglider and leap off. Now knowing what to expect, the descent and steering are both much smoother than before, and you glide slowly down, past a pair of tattered, long-tailed flags and over a smooth cobblestone path.
What's this?
"Well, it's the main trading road to the Great Plateau, silly!"
You crane back a little to look over your shoulder, but the huge wall is still as daunting and unwelcoming as ever, no sign of traversal in sight.
If there's a road to the Great Plateau, shouldn't there be a way to. . . get up to the Plateau?
John hums quietly, and the sound is hard to hear over the ruffling of the wind in your ears. "There used to be. Those flags used to mark the gate and the ramp up to the Plateau. I guess since the Calamity, the foundations have fallen in. Now no one can get up there."
Except for your dad.
He chuckles a little at that. "Well, yeah, except for my Dad. But he's not exactly a normal traveller anymore."
Turning back to face forwards, you glide silently a little longer, centring yourself over the cobblestone road before the wind sets you lightly down on your feet. You throw a glance over your shoulder at the looming Plateau walls, and then look forwards again at the road, snaking through the fields towards the Duelling Peaks in the distance.
Well, you think, Here I am.
"Here you are," John agrees.
Kingdom of Hyrule, here I come.