Updated: 04.06.22

Chapter 14

"Complicated, Millie, very complicated—" Auru broke off with a sharp hiss and grabbed a handful of bedsheet, holding it like a lifeline. His face was creased with pain. Link could sympathise; while the doctor tended to the leader's wounds, Telma was cleaning the two perforations in Link's shoulder with an alcohol-drenched rag that felt like a burning rod against his skin. He had to work hard to keep his groans of pain to a minimum.

"What madness even drove you two to go into that prison in the first place?" Millie called, her eyes darting towards Doctor Lysh with a measure of concern. The field surgeon was none too gentle with his treatment on Auru's side wound, and Link quietly hoped he'd elude the doctor's harsh handling.

"He'll live, Miss Gobinet, no doubt about it," Lysh answered her distress. "Sir Auru's a tough nut to crack."

"You are whittling down on my shell, Doctor," Auru wheezed between clenched teeth.

"I know he's a tough nut, all right," Millie scoffed. "But even a tough nut like him knows when to pick a fight and when to avoid one. Ain't that so, Auru?"

"I'm not sure if you're accusing or complimenting me, my dear," Auru muttered. "As I said, I'll explain exactly what happened at the meeting tomorrow. Let us three weary travellers rest for a while, I implore you."

To Link's dismay, Doctor Lysh handed Millie a roll of bandages to wrap around Auru's torso before he turned, spectacles glinting, and faced Link. "You seem to have found your calling, young man. Three perforations in just three weeks. I applaud your choice of injury; easy to deal with, most painful to endure. Are you trying to impress anyone?"

"It sure worked on me," Telma chuckled and gave Link a smirk. He glanced at her with a raised brow. She made a hand gesture that said I'm just messing with you, darling.

Then he saw how Auru had turned to the doctor, looking furious, and felt a chill; the leader openly challenging such a jab, as insignificant as it was, would incite more suspicion than help matters, especially since Auru's initial reaction to Link's first stab wound had been a playful elbowing and innocent inquiry as to its provenance.

Quickly he spoke over Auru's angry reprimand. "I'm not, Sir, they just seem to find me whenever I least expect it."

"That shrapnel found you, all right, and almost punctured a ligament." Glaring behind his minuscule glasses, Lysh reached into his black surgeon's bag and retrieved a tiny brass spoon. "Remember it?"

Link groaned and shrunk into his pillow, but the doctor wagged a relentless finger at him. "This'll only take a minute, I need to clean out any pus that formed. You want to keep using that arm, don't you?"

Just as Link thought the moment couldn't get any more uncomfortable, the infirmary curtain was launched aside by strong smith's hands, and in stormed Rusl still in his guard uniform and dusty with sand from the training grounds. Peet strolled in behind him, and when his eyes fell on Link and Auru sitting bloodied on their beds, he exclaimed in boyish awe that contributed wonderfully to the situation's precariousness.

"Woah, look at all the blood! That's so cool!"

"Link!" Rusl called, hands shooting to his head as if trying to keep his skull's two hemispheres from breaking apart. "What happened? What are those? Doctor?"

Telma moved in to calm Rusl, and Auru lifted a pacifying hand. "It's okay, Rusl, he's just fine. A bit of shrapnel got carried away and found his shoulder, but we got it out before it could do any real damage. Lysh, tell him."

That last command was a mistake; Lysh's spectacles flashed across the room as he turned towards Auru. "He's got two holes the size of grapes in that shoulder, Auru, and as deep as my pinkie. I don't know about you but I'd count that as real damage. What on Farore's green earth did you use to extract the nails? A carpenter's drill?"

Link tried to block out the arguing that ensued between Rusl and Auru by grabbing another pillow and pressing it against his face; goddesses, how tired he was of people worrying about him!

It was Ashei's piercing shout that brought back the silence. "Shut up, you pack of yapping dogs, we've got company! Soldiers at the door, and I don't think they're here to drink their sorrows away."

Auru straightened, and all discomfort was erased from his face. "Positions, quickly! Peet, man the courtyard, Telma at the bar with Kyra, Leena gets ready to open the rooms for them to sniff around. Which one is currently unlocked?"

"Number two," Telma answered.

"Lock it, but do it quietly. I want Noora in number two in relations with… Damn, Garril and Bat are away. Too bad Link's in here with me… Never mind then, just regular cleaning. I returned this morning from a visit to my wife in Nayrunis and left Telma and her bed shortly after breakfast to an unknown location, but you think it might have been the bathhouse. That ought to keep them searching for a while. Telma, go into detail. Make them wish they'd never asked. Have Shad enthuse about some topic or other, he's pretty decent at unnerving his audience. Millie, get ready to have some lunch with Mezer, Rusl, and Ashei. Occupy the kitchen, break Telma off of them. Quick, everybody!"

They dispersed like fog touched by sunlight, and before Link could blink he was alone with Auru and Doctor Lysh, who still had his spoon hovering over the perforations ready to continue his business.

"It's fascinating to see your mind work, Auru," Lysh commented while grabbing Link's pillowy hiding spot and tossing it away, to the latter's annoyance. "Do you regularly enlist your women and men to pander around for secrecy's sake?"

Auru sighed and leaned back. "It's an act, nothing more. I only ask them to do it if they tell me they're fine with it. I'd do it myself if I hadn't been sliced up like a steak."

"I imagine your own indecency is most effective."

"You'd be surprised how little Kenelm seems to care about it any more. Every act eventually grows old."

"And so you need fresh meat, like our shrapnel friend here?"

Link was following the conversation in utter confusion, his head turning between the speakers like a broken marionette.

Auru took a moment to reply, his countenance caught between indecision and amusement. "I have other plans involving Link, Doctor. He's shown great promise on our mission together. You make sure he is treated well."

When they were finally alone, bandaged up and settling into a comfortable numbness thanks to Doctor Lysh's pain medicine, Auru propped himself up against his pillows.

"I had feared our arrival this morning might have aroused suspicion. Kenelm is no fool, he knows we're up to something. But that's a small concern right now."

"I didn't know you have a wife, Sir," Link said.

"Had. We've separated some years ago. She lives in Nayrunis now."

Link frowned; he had never heard of husbands and wives ever separating. Once they married, they stayed together for life, at least in Ordona and Faron. They married because they wanted to live together, otherwise they would, well… not get married.

"I'm... sorry," he said lamely, not really knowing what else to answer. Was he even supposed to feel sorry for Auru? Or was it as ordinary for husbands and wives in Hyrule to separate as eating pumpkin soup was in Ordon?

"It's long in the past," Auru answered with a dismissive wave. "Is Midna here with us? Could she come out for a minute?"

After a few seconds of quiet, Link's sheets bulged and were pushed up by Midna's tiny hand. She settled down close to him with the blanket still draped over her head, her eyes first darting to him with a silent inquiry as to his well-being. As Link nodded, she looked around the infirmary warily. Link shared her unease, and made sure she was fully hidden from sight in case a group member entered through the curtain opposite their beds.

"Thank you, Midna, I know you're taking a big risk," Auru murmured.

"I'd expected you'd want to talk to us eventually, Sir Auru," she answered in a whisper.

"Now's as good a time as any, while they're all occupied with distracting the town guards. What I need to know is how much I can reveal to the rest of the group. How much are you and Link comfortable with? I've had some time to think about what you told me of your journey so far, and I believe it is vital that at least some of it is mentioned and discussed with the group. We could distribute our resources far more efficiently, and make actual progress in the course of this war. But… I know some of it is uncomfortable to you." He inclined his head at Link's left side, and Link placed a hand over the now scarred stab wound with a frown.

Midna briefly touched Link's hand and smiled at him. Her tender gesture made his resurging gloom evaporate instantly. "Tell us what would be most helpful for the group members to know, Sir Auru, and I'm sure we can find a middle ground we'll all agree on," she said.

Link was still focused on her touch while his two companions hashed it out, his mind once more filled with surprise and no small amount of intrigue upon hearing Midna speak. She met each of Auru's propositions with careful consideration, weighed out the options from their three perspectives before giving Link the final vote. He found himself picturing her tiny form perched on a podium in her home world, perhaps within the Twilight queen's own palace or a senate of some kind and presiding over a court or an assembly. She certainly knew how to talk, and Link was certain that even without his presence clearly hampering Auru's assertiveness in his arguments, she would have presented a formidable opponent in a full-blown debate. Much more than he would ever be.

"We are agreed, then, that the Mirror of Twilight will be revealed in the meeting, as will our talk with the Sages," Auru reiterated, speaking in a hush; the wooden infirmary walls were only moderately noise-insulated. Beyond the thin panels, they could hear Telma talking with a group of men. "Your involvement, Link, will remain secret, as will your presence, Midna. The Sages spoke to us about Zant and his connection with the deaths of our monarchs, and also spoke of a certain individual known to us only as Ganon, who is likely the one behind the barrier around Hyrule Castle. All the rest, the smaller details, I will fill in accordingly."

In other words, lie to them, Link thought grimly.

Formerly, Auru had reacted so strongly – even violently – to being lied to, and hearing the Resistance leader now openly committing himself to speaking untruths made Link's mouth taste bitter with guilt. But there was no going back. Both their situations had altered fundamentally with the revelation of Link's identity, and Auru seemed willing to betray his own ideals if it meant the hero could do his part in freeing Hyrule from the clutches of war. He had accepted Link's wish to remain anonymous, in the end had even encouraged it.

"You are our secret weapon," he'd justified his support of confidentiality. "Zant might even think you perished after your fight, and that means less monsters after you. I also strongly believe you made the right call when you said your status could turn you into a religious figure and create a tail of worshippers behind you. The fewer people know, the fewer obstacles will be in your way. And you do not really strike me as a proud fellow who craves prestige and acclaim for your achievements."

Link had blanched at the sheer notion of it, making Auru chuckle.

The only demand Auru had made for his pact of secrecy was a trade of facts about the war from the hero's – and his Twili companion's – perspective. Each new snippet of information Link revealed on their way to Ashinon had been like a building block for Auru to gather, inspect, and fit into his scaffolded construction of the war's course. Finally he had some pieces he could work with: the Twilight and the cloud over the sun so suddenly lifted thanks to Link reviving the Light Spirits. Kakariko's fortification and the return of the Gorons' loyalty. Prince Ralis' rescue. Link's sudden departure for Lakebed Temple neither announced nor explained. His secret quest for the Fused Shadows. His mysterious stab wound and who had given it to him.

Each piece of knowledge was subjected to Auru's inspection and incited him to riddle Link with questions that had occupied them for the entire journey back.

And after Link had revealed Princess Zelda's survival and her role in the kingdom's persistence, Auru had broken down in tears, to Link's and Midna's great surprise. Voice hoarse with that rare emotion, he'd told them of his years tutoring the princess, and his tears were of joy mixed with guilt and gratitude to whichever goddess had protected his former pupil and future regent of Hyrule. Link quickly understood that Auru's and Zelda's friendship was a cherished one.

Only one vital detail was left undisclosed; Link had no idea when or how to broach the Wolf topic with the leader, if he even wanted to. Right now the main reason keeping him from that ultimate revelation was his own desire to familiarize himself more with his four-legged parallel before committing to an outsider's scrutiny. There was still so much left to try, discover, and acclimate to. In Ashinon, the Wolf had given him the means to provide a distraction for Ashei. In the Moblin camp, it had been a well of raw speed and power to drive the living terror into the remaining forces. In short, the Wolf meant opportunity, and Link felt conflicted with sharing it just yet.

For as strong as the Blue-Eyed Beast was, it remained unpredictable.

"Tomorrow, when things have calmed down, I'll send Shad to go through the town hall archives and the library and find documents about this Ganon and his trial," Auru said after a long period of silence. "Meanwhile, I will also begin preparations for our trip to Snow Peak. The mountain is covered in snow the whole year round, and appropriate equipment will be crucial to our success. Ashei won't like it, but I'll ask her to send word to her homestead in Anouki Township and commission some of the gear we'll need. I, in the meantime, will do my best to figure out the other two Shard locations. Which reminds me: once we have found a Mirror piece, how dangerous do you think it will be?"

The question had been directed at Link, but it was Midna who answered. "The Fused Shadows we gathered were imbued with magic so powerful it clouded my judgement, and many times I came close to accidentally hurting Link. If what the Sages said is true, we should expect a similar danger from the Mirror pieces. It would be best if Link and I went alone. That way you wouldn't get harmed again."

Auru glanced at his own side and the thick bandage bulging beneath his shirt. "I have sworn an oath to our kingdom to do whatever it takes to free it," he said, his tone bordering on pleading. "Horses won't make it far up there, which means any supplies we need will have to be carried by people or by sleigh. You will also need a guide once you're in the mountains. Allow me and Ashei to go with you. I know your greatest worry will be our safety, but you can count on us to step out of the way and let you handle things if they are out of our control. I will find a way to make Ashei understand without compromising both your identities. I promise you that."

They shared another look, Auru's brows knotted with the slightest trace of despair. Link thought he understood the sheer urgency with which Auru spoke; to be left behind while others risked their lives for something he had committed his whole existence to would have been a blow too hard to endure. Thanks to them, he was filled to the brim with new information, was practically bursting with it. Nothing could have persuaded him to back down now that all cards had been laid out and he was allowed to partake in the game with his own hand ready to play.

Only this wasn't a game. This was the harsh, brutal reality that had seen the kingdom's plunge into Twilight, and caused the demise of thousands of people already. Link didn't know if he could stomach yet another needless death.

"I couldn't forgive myself if you got hurt again because of me, Sir," he replied.

"I'm not going to get hurt, and neither is Ashei. Forgive me for even implying it, but the danger of you getting killed up there due to exposure and monster attacks is so much smaller if you have people to back you up. I'm not saying you couldn't do it on your own. But the truth is, Link: we need you for the final battle. You are the only one who can wield the Blade of Evil's Bane and face Zant. The goddesses would not have chosen you if a simple Resistance movement or the Hyrulean army could have dealt with the problem. This war is about which side will be dominant in the future; light or dark, good or evil? You were chosen because you are the only one who has a chance at tipping the balance in our favour again. If you perish on that mountain, it is I who couldn't forgive myself."

Link was silent as he replayed Auru's words in his mind.

In the end, this was what it came down to, wasn't it? He was a tool, a weapon, forged and honed to fight for all that was good and bright in this world, to stop Darkness from taking over and bringing ruin to everything and everyone. The Light Spirit Faron had said so, Lanayru too. He wasn't a simple farmer and goat herd with a life of his own, not anymore. He belonged to the goddesses, to the people, and he had to fight in their name for balance to be restored. Thus was his fate. It didn't matter what he desired or wished for in life. Until he had done what he had been chosen to do, there would be no peace for him.

He was startled by Midna pushing the blanket aside, ignoring the fact that she was now blatantly visible. "Link is doing everything he can, Sir Auru," she hissed, her tone suppressed but singed with anger. "How would you feel if you were told one day that you were blessed with holy powers and had no choice but to do what some stupid Light Spirits told you? Link knows what he needs to do. At least give him the chance to decide for himself how and with whom he'll do it."

Auru looked shocked, but not for the reasons Link feared. The Resistance leader brought a hand to his forehead, eyes wide. "Forgive me, I just now realize what I said and how it sounded. I didn't mean to… No, of course I respect your wishes, Link—"

"Sir, it's okay, I know how you meant it," Link cut in.

"No, what I meant to say, and why I wish to accompany you, is for you to have backup. I care for you, and not because you are who you are. I… I want you to feel like you can count on me, on us, that you aren't alone. I can only guess the burdens that rest on you, but I want to try and lessen them in any way I can. You do not have to carry it all by yourself. Anything we can take off your shoulders, we will. And we'll step out of the way when things get bad. We are yours to command. All you have to do is say the word."

A tight knot formed in Link's throat, making him gulp. He would be lying if part of him had not craved to hear those exact words; to share the load, to have support in case he needed it, skilled fighters at his side who could take over while he rallied himself... It was almost too good to be true. The sheer thought of putting this burden on someone else's shoulders seemed selfish and wrong, but there was so much truth in Auru's words. If he got lost in the freezing cold of Snow Peak, even the Wolf would be powerless after too much exposure. It was summer, after all, and he had no winter pelt to speak of...

He decided to do something he'd never done before, at least not consciously: he turned his attention inward and sought out the Wolf's opinion.

He found it stumbling through his mind's compound, radiating mild surprise at being called upon. It answered in that internal voice that was so similar to his own, yet fundamentally different, and sounding just slightly slurred.

A pack takes down a mighty beast as one and shares the spoils. A loner may take it all, or lose it all; no one would know.

Link was astonished at the Wolf's words, so much more eloquent than its usual ramblings. Perhaps the prospect of finally being part of a real pack had brought out the poet in his canine twin.

A wolf poet... he thought. How odd.

Nevertheless, it was convincing. With a quiet sigh, Link gave in.

"I'm honoured by your proposal, Sir," he said with a smile. "Your wisdom and expertise saved us in the desert, and I'd be reckless not to use your resources now to find that Mirror shard."

Midna looked at him, and in her eyes he saw his own doubt from before seeking one last push to find conviction. He nodded at her. "Midna was right when she said the Fused Shadows were dangerous, but I would never have been able to defeat those monsters without her. I have no idea what we'll find on Snow Peak, what abominations we might have to fight. And she is vulnerable now—"

"I can still help!" she protested. "You're not leaving me behind."

"I wouldn't for the life of me," he chuckled. "But remember, you hate the cold."

She lowered her eyes and stayed silent.

"What I mean to say is I'd be glad for some reinforcement, Sir Auru, for myself and for Midna. When do you think you'll be fit to travel?"

Auru practically beamed. "Give me till the end of the week. It's a three day journey from here to Zora's Domain, and a day more over the ice fields to Anouki Township, which will give me more time to heal. That demon didn't get me half as badly as I had feared. Doctor Lysh assured me it is nothing but a flesh wound, and the arm is bruised but still intact. You'll have my full support once we're up to our knees in snow."

And to Midna, he added, "I promise I will not get in your way either, friend. I can never hope to challenge your expertise both in magic and in working with Link. You have my utmost respect."

Link watched in amusement how Midna's cheeks flushed pink. Before he could comment on it and embarrass her even more, however, Auru addressed him once again, intrigue sparkling in his eyes.

"You had another of these odd stares for a moment there. I've seen you occasionally do that when we speak."

Link lifted his brows; he had not expected his conversations with the Wolf to be noticeable to the outside. Was this it, then, the right moment to reveal that there was another spirit within him, sharing his thoughts and, sometimes, his own flesh and blood?

The Wolf came to a vacillating halt and swayed in place like a drunken maid. He knows? He sees? Not good, hide, run away, the alpha knows! It shows! We're not normal, we're not normal! Burn our tail and crush our paws, split our skull and crack our jaws –

Oh shut up, you! Link groaned, suddenly feeling light-headed. These stupid painkillers are making you loopy.

What? Us, loopy?

As if on cue, a wave of vertigo hit the Wolf like a broadside, and it toppled sideways in such a comical twirl of fur and tail hair that Link grinned shamelessly, almost forgetting he was still in conversation.

"Just thinking, Sir," he said. "I tend to daydream when I think about things."

He was saved by the door just beyond the curtain opening, forcing Midna into the shadows. Agus entered with their lunch, nodding when Auru asked if the guards had been pacified. Link had no idea what exactly had been used to numb his pain, but his Hylian constitution soon followed the Wolf's in a steady plummet until his head felt a hundred pounds heavier. It occurred to him that the beast had somehow taken the first wave of it, allowing Link to be spared a few minutes longer. Their connection was such a strange one, still full of mysteries and oddities...

But before he could contemplate the thought further, he fell into slumber.

0

The sharp sting was replaced by a dull throb, and by the week's end Link's shoulder felt like new. His astonishing healing rate was subject to intense prodding from the doctor, who made increasingly stranger inquiries as to Link's lifestyle growing up, to the point that even religious interference was considered. Auru did his best to guide Lysh's focus to simpler explanations, but there was no denying that Link's gift was abnormal.

The meeting brought on a general sense of brooding among the group members attending. Only a select few had been invited, and those privileged with what Auru called classified information – Link hadn't heard that term before, but he got the gist of it – were made accountable in case it leaked outside the headquarters.

"This is too big," Sir Mezer protested at this. "We need to let the mayor know about the identity of this foreign king and also inform him we are planning on bringing potentially dangerous artefacts into the city."

"At this moment in time we know nothing of what to expect from these Mirror pieces, how they will behave, or what effects they might have on us," Auru answered. "I have chosen the sewers beneath the tavern as a first temporary storage, but a safer and more remote location will be staked out in case we need it."

"But this Ganon fellow," Rusl interjected. His voice was hard, spittle flying from his lips as he spat the words. Ever since bringing back Rusl's adoptive son from the Gerudo Desert with two holes in his shoulder, Auru had been subjected to nothing but cold glares and curt replies from his former apprentice. And when Rusl of Ordon was mad, it was the kind or anger that seethed and boiled but never quite exploded, like a pool of lava sitting at a crossroad with no bridge over it; it didn't kill you, but approaching it singed your eyebrows off. It was the kind that made Link want to turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

"Whoever this Ganon is," Rusl grated, "he took over the castle during that big storm a month ago, and you want to keep this secret? What if he was the one who conjured the storm?"

"Until we have more concrete information about Zant and Ganon, the knowledge stays within our circles," Auru answered. "The fewer people know, the less the chance of an uprising against them leaking out and potentially going back to them. You know the drill, Rusl."

The blacksmith huffed and made a dismissive gesture that, under any other circumstances, would have earned him a disciplinary warning. Link saw the pained flicker of Auru's eyelids and gave him the tiniest nod, hoping it would feed the leader some comfort. Rusl's disdain was hurtful, but Link knew this was not the only reason for Auru's dejection.

Every fibre in the Resistance leader seemed repulsed at the necessity to keep the finer details to himself, and a small part of Link's darker mind felt relieved that he was no longer the only one burdened with secrets, utterly alone carrying knowledge that could topple empires. Auru was beginning to realize just how many compromises had to be made, how many answers carefully considered without letting anything slip. The result was a strange way in which the Resistance leader spoke to the people around him; a kind of confused reticence that made him avert his eyes in conversations and often stare blankly into space.

The group members left the table with mixed feelings, and had another contingent of guards been sent to snoop around the tavern, they'd have returned to Mayor Kenelm's officials with reports of a strange collective gloom among not just the tavern staff, but the long-term residents also, and would likely have proposed to take them into custody for questioning.

Link spent his recovery time walking through Castle Town, browsing various stores and the three open markets the city hosted. He couldn't buy anything since, after paying for Epona's saddle all those weeks ago, he had not a single rupee left to his name, but he found his state of bankruptcy rather liberating instead. The Resistance gave him everything he needed to live, and even if the desire to indulge in material possessions occurred, he had too much to think about to make the desire last.

Sometimes he went alone, sometimes accompanied by Rusl, sometimes by another Resistance member. His tongue always loosened more when he was walking, as if the repetitive motion of his legs was like a crank turning a very rusty and unused machine until it ran from its own momentum. Though he had little to offer in terms of experiences, many members had never been to the faraway provinces in the South and were keen to hear of pumpkin farming and goat breeding. Shad, especially, was adept in bringing out Link's chatty side, mainly because the young scholar shared his vast knowledge without prompt or reticence and was as passionate a listener as he was providing his own entertainment, which sometimes left him monologuing for hours on end.

What time Link did not spend at the tavern or wandering the city he spent at the stables, grooming and caring for Epona, and often he took her out for a sprint through the fields to give her some exercise. Auru had assured him that the Nayrunis guards would not camp the exits anymore, but he kept his deed of ownership safely in his pouch whenever he rode out – just in case.

One day he returned through the west gate and passed Castle Town's second militaristic section which, according to Rusl, mainly trained mounted soldiers. The site was fairly large in order to keep the town guard's hundred or so horses, and surrounding it was a constant hubbub of thumping training weapons, snorting beasts, and ringing hammers.

A group of soldiers on horseback were going through drills within a large sand arena, doing circles and quick stops and short distances at a canter while exchanging blows with soldiers on the ground. An older man was in constant motion in the middle, calling to his pupils and reminding them of half-halts and hand positions. Perched on Epona, Link could just peek over the wall and watch. The horses stomped gracefully past him with their heads bowed and their manes flying, riders giving leg and rein cues which guided the mounts precisely. Half of them, Link noticed, were women, their backs straight like a board as they cantered around the arena. Pointy ears peeked through their dull metal helmets.

The sheer discipline displayed by these riders inspired him so much that he returned to the fields the next day with a training sword and attempted to emulate the forms he had seen. Epona cast him a couple confused side-glances as his calves tapped her sides, the reins held only with his right hand, to guide her on an invisible circle, but she got the hang of it quickly. Long years of herding goats and racing through the forest together had perhaps not trained them in any proper horsemanship – the teacher would likely suffer a mental breakdown if he saw Link's self-taught riding style – but the understanding between horse and rider was genuine. And Link found out he could ride his mare just as effectively with one hand as with two.

As the week progressed, so did Shad's perusing through the archives, and one evening Auru called Link from his kitchen duty and into the office.

"We've finally found that trial you saw in your vision," he told Link, tapping on a ledger which looked like it had been kept in the bathhouse during the centuries after its recording. The leather was dark and spotted with patches of mouldy dust. "It was Shad's first night assignment into a restricted area where the kingdom's old legislative records are being kept, trials and prosecutions and the like. He handled it well, bless him, especially since he couldn't find anything at first until he stumbled upon Ganon's file by chance, a bad thing considering the amount of effort we put into archiving our kingdom's history. The main problem was that the Sages said the wrong name or, at least, only half of it. The man's full name was Ganondorf, the suffix being Gerudo for the great or the powerful.

"He was indeed a Gerudo king, and according to this ledger he was arrested for attempting to murder our own king of that time and convicted to death without trial. I have some trouble understanding why Hyrule would not even give him a proper trial considering what impact the death of the only male Gerudo has on the race. But it gets better: look at this date."

Auru pointed at the open ledger. "3575, that's the year the Gerudo wars began. They attacked us because we killed their king."

"I thought the Gerudo wars began because they wanted our land," Link said.

"That's what the history books say, indeed, and that is at least partly true, because Shad did some quick thinking and found Ganondorf's name in the farthest corners of foreign relations. It is beyond me why these haven't been burned yet."

Auru carefully extracted a small stack of parchments from a portfolio. Link looked at the pages and realized they were not all cured hide. Some of them were a chequered weaving of dried fibres pressed to a thin sheet, now browned with age. He felt the surface; it was smooth and dry.

"Papyrus, the common paper used by Gerudo," Auru said absently while sifting through the stack until he found what he was looking for. "Here, a letter written to the king by Ganondorf himself, dated 3569, so over six hundred years ago. It says how Ganondorf wants an alliance with Hyrule and exchange land as well as resources. He is rather assertive in his demands, and claims parts of Lanayru and half of Lake Hylia as his own. If anything, he is audacious."

Link leaned forward to decipher the text. It was Ancient Hylian, written in dark green ink.

My country lays within a vast desert. When the sun rises into the sky, a burning wind punishes my lands, searing the world. And when the moon climbs into the dark of night, a frigid gale pierces our homes. No matter when it comes, the wind carries the same thing... Death.

"He doesn't sound particularly aggressive," he mused. "More like a ruler who is not happy with the land he rules. He wants something better for his people."

Auru paused for a moment, gazing at Link intently. "It is true, isn't it?" he answered. His voice dropped in pitch just slightly, his tongue trilling the R's of the dead tongue that spilled from his lips smoothly as he read the letter aloud. "'But the winds that blow across the green fields of Hyrule bring something other than suffering and ruin. I covet that wind.'"

Now it was Link's turn to stare. "You speak Ancient Hylian!"

"And you read Ancient Hylian. Uncommon for a goat herd from faraway Ordon. Where did you learn it?"

"From a book I accidentally picked up in Rusl's library. The letters, the words, it all just made sense."

"Fascinating!" Auru tapped Link's shoulder affectionately, then winced as his injured arm was jostled inside its sling. "I would think it is a useful skill to have, as the hero. I'm sure it's no coincidence that learning it came so easily to you."

Link smiled self-consciously. "I'm not good with pronunciation, though. Would you be willing to teach me, Sir?"

"Why, certainly!" Auru beamed. "If you wish, we can start with these letters, although this could already be considered Middle Hylian since the font has begun to adopt the dotting of our alphabet and many medial voiceless fricatives, or S sounds, turn silent. But that's details."

Thus, in his first pronunciation lesson wherein Link hummed front half-close rounded vowels, hacked away at palatal consonants, and butchered the language's many retroflex trills, he learned of Ganondorf's visits to the Hyrulean royal palace and the Gerudo king's ever-intensifying appeals for land. Pleas turned to demands, demands turned to threats. The desert king made many mentions of Hyrule's legends, voiced his interest in magical artefacts, asked for permission to walk the sacred grounds in Faron, Eldin, and Lanayru. Each of his pleas was turned down or ignored, and the reasons were always the same; because of their strong matriarchal culture, Gerudo were deemed not suited for life among Hylians, especially on land already occupied. At a question from Link Auru elaborated that Gerudo, back then, were considered too volatile, too traditional, to make worthwhile contributions to an already firmly established Hylian doctrine.

The last letter in the stack was a Hyrulean answer many months overdue, and its content seemed oddly contradicting to all former writs of denial.

In the wake of your most recent achievement against the monster scourge, you have been officially granted the chance to petition for fiefdom of the lands you protected in the name of King Imaor Robaim Hyrule. We await your arrival at the royal palace on Summer First of our Year 3575, for your approbation of these titles.

"Only a few days later, Ganondorf was officially executed at the Arbiter's Grounds and listed as dead, at least so they say in the archived files," Auru said, his tone sombre. "Your vision, and the Sages themselves, showed us that he was not killed but banished to the Twilight Realm to undergo the same purging as Midna's ancestors."

"She spoke to you about that?" Link asked, surprised. When Midna had first breached the topic of her ancestry to him, she'd been reluctant, fearful even, of his reaction to such an important revelation. Learning she had opened up to Auru, of all people, after just a few days had gone by, made him feel painfully inadequate.

"Aye, yesterday while you were taking your walk with Rusl. I admit that I pushed her a bit, but I assure you that I think no less of her for what she, errr… used to be. If I understood correctly, the Twilight Realm never allows any of its people to simply die, but resurrects them again and again with memories of their past lives still intact. I guess that makes sense; remember the lessons you learned in your previous lives so you may know what to avoid and continue to be moulded into a gentle, obedient creature instead of a magical killing machine. What Zant did was utterly wrong, but I can't help putting myself in his shoes and feel like there is some sense behind his rage. His people were oppressed and silenced for achievements that were seen as blasphemous, dangerous, which was likely true if you consider what had to be done to contain these Fused Shadows. But to doom them to eternal resurrection and suffering seems… a little extreme. And who says Hyrule only banished those magic wielders to the Twilight Realm? They could very well have sent off any number of criminals they could – or would – no longer harbour, magic wielders or not. Perhaps Zant even used to be such a commoner, and his hatred bled through each death and rebirth and festered like an infection. Why was Ganondorf not killed? Why was he banished instead?"

They tried to kill him, but he survived, Link thought. He had the same triangular mark on the back of his hand as I have. But his mark was glowing. The moment it did, he simply pulled on his chains and they broke. Did he survive because of it?

Link hesitated. It was the one detail from his vision he had left unsaid. He did not quite know why, but seeing that mark on Ganondorf's hand had troubled him on a deep level, now even more so knowing the Gerudo had attempted to murder Hyrule's king. The Sages had called him a demon thief, a ruthless killer. And seeing the man in his vision, the flaming red hair and broad build, had evoked a feeling of alarm and dread that seemed almost… familiar. Suddenly the glowing triangle did not seem so out of place on the man's hand.

Auru was watching him, and when Link once more focused on him, the leader leaned forward eagerly. "What are you thinking about?"

Link sighed; this was too important to leave unmentioned, no matter how uneasy he felt about sharing it. If Ganon had been prosecuted because of that mark, then Auru had to know.

"In the vision, I saw a triangular shape on Ganon's hand. It looked just like my birthmark. But when he freed himself from his chains, it was glowing."

Auru's eyes widened, and a fire of excitement flared within them. "Was it, now? That changes things. Nayru behold, that changes things dramatically."

He glanced at Link's gloved left hand, lifted his fingers as if to touch it, then brought them to his chin and stroked over his three-strand white goatee instead. "Has your symbol ever glowed before?"

"No, never."

Midna would later tell Link that yes, it had glowed once, during his very first transformation into the Wolf after he'd been pulled into the Twilight by the Shadow Beast. Link had been too scared and in too much pain to remember such a detail, but the moment his hand had begun to shine a bright gold, the Shadow Beast had recoiled from it and tossed him to the ground as if he had burned it.

She remained hidden for now, silently listening.

"I've told you of my years tutoring Princess Zelda," Auru said softly. "She has such a symbol on her hand, too. The Sages called it a divine power. I didn't think it could be anything else than the Triforce our legends speak of, the power of Creation the goddesses left behind after shaping our world. There are three pieces to it, Power, Wisdom, and Courage. And now, we know there are three people who each have the same symbol on their hands, each blessed with magnanimous powers."

Link gazed at his gloved hand, shrugging. "If I am truly holding the power of Creation, shouldn't I be… feeling something, Sir?"

Auru smiled, but his eyes were clouded with the weight of his revelation. "The Triforce is only at its most powerful when it is united, and you have just one piece of it. Nevertheless, our legends say that even by itself, a Triforce piece is unmatched in might and is said to give its bearer unusual abilities. The princess grew up far quicker in mind than in body, and at ten years of age she already held more knowledge than all the scholars who tutored her combined. She has an outstanding memory. If she is the holder of the Triforce of Wisdom, it would make sense that she carries so much knowledge, wouldn't it? And as for Ganondorf, or Ganon: with him as the bearer of the Triforce of Power, it doesn't surprise me that he could break heavy iron chains and kill a Sage. He would be holding the power of Din, after all."

Link began undoing the buttons holding his fingerless glove closed, and brought the faded mark into the lamplight. Auru leaned forward to inspect it, and after getting a reassuring nod from Link, he gingerly touched the greyed skin. He jerked just slightly upon contact as if expecting Link's skin to prickle with the divine power.

"Courage is trickier to define, even though you most certainly hold plenty of it; you faced a monster army three hundred strong all on your own, after all, and you held your ground against me."

Link chuckled politely at that.

"The question is: did the Triforce give you that courage, or did it simply enhance your existing virtues? What powers would this Triforce piece give you that match Zelda's Wisdom and Ganon's Power?" Auru continued to stroke his chin. "It hasn't exactly forced you to jump head-first into impossible situations, has it? The decision was always yours alone, right?"

Link nodded, watching Auru's inspection closely; he had never allowed anyone outside his family to look at the mark. But he reckoned that Auru was no longer a stranger to him, and the unease faded quickly.

"Well, the doctor pointed one out several times, didn't he?" Auru continued. "Your body has exceptional healing capabilities. Furthermore, you have the ability to see spirits, and you can… receive – for lack of a better word – visions from ethereal beings like the Sages and the Light Spirits."

And I am host to a wolf spirit and can change into it at will, Link thought. Is the Wolf a physical embodiment of this power?

But he'd had this mark since birth, and not once had a wolf puppy suddenly popped up in his child mind and begun speaking to him, urging him to drop down on all fours and start tearing pillows and scratch furniture. It had appeared the moment Link passed into the Twilight, not a day before.

"What I have also noticed during our mission: you are strong," Auru went on. "Likely not as strong as Ganondorf, but you practically pulverised that lock in the sand goddess chamber when you struck it with the brazier, and when you pulled me along afterward, your grip on my wrist actually bruised me."

"What?!" Link called, his eyes darting to Auru's right hand. There were indeed faded, but distinct round finger marks on the leader's inner wrist. "I'm so sorry! Why didn't you say something, Sir?"

"It's just a harmless pressure bruise, no need to fret. But if you think about it, it makes sense, wouldn't you agree?"

Auru took Link's young hand in his bigger, more wrinkled ones. "If I may, I'd like to do a little experiment, one I did with the princess when we first learned of her powers. Try to concentrate and feel into yourself. Try to find were that mark sleeps. If it is truly there, you should feel something."

Link frowned. "Could she feel it?"

"Eventually, yes."

"What did it feel like?"

"She described it as a soothing warmth, like sunlight deep within herself. The Triforce is raw power. Some trace must exist somewhere in your body."

Link gazed at his left hand, feeling inward. There was the Wolf, as always, lounging within his mind's cage, its tail swatting absently. It seemed calm for now, content with just listening to the conversation. He could sense curiosity from it as he searched around, trying to feel... something, anything that he didn't already know. The Master Sword's quiet hum surfaced from within Midna's hold, arising as gently as the warmth of an oven that had just been lit. When he concentrated hard, he could even hear Midna's breathing from her spot in the shadow between his back and the chair.

But that was it. If there was any other strange entity stowed away within his consciousness, he did not notice it.

"I don't feel anything out of the ordinary, Sir," he replied.

"Have you ever had other strange experiences, things that didn't really make sense? Zelda told me once of how her grandmother, who has been dead for two decades, appeared to her, walking through the palace gardens. They even spoke, briefly."

Link thought back to the lush meadow and the old cathedral ruins, of the skeleton that had appeared within the sword chamber. He'd asked Midna later if she'd seen anyone standing before Link and talking to him. She had not. To her, Link had been standing before the blade for what seemed like just a few seconds before he pulled it out of its pedestal. The conversation in between seemed known only to him.

And again in the training hall, when time seemed to have stopped and the skeleton's voice – those many overlapping voices blending neatly into joined words – had taught him that which he had forgotten; sword skills his body performed from simple muscle memory like a tune he hadn't played for a long time that his fingers remembered on instinct, tapping the flute holes just as they had a thousand times before.

Was perhaps the armoured skeleton a representation of his Triforce piece?

"Hm, interesting," Auru said after Link told him this. "You spoke to your ancestor, just as the princess spoke to hers. But, you said he looked like a skeleton?"

"Yes, with old armour all covered in ivy. And I think one of his eyes was missing. The other was glowing red."

Auru frowned and said nothing for a long time, absently spinning his ink pot before him.

"Believe it or not, but your kind is extremely hard to study. I'm talking about the heroes who came before you, your ancestors, even though you might not strictly be blood-related. Zelda's heritage is easy to trace back since each princess born to the royal family is named Zelda and her life thoroughly recorded. But when scholars try to find records of the chosen heroes, it gets tricky."

"Why?"

"Because each record is contradicted by another. Some say the hero was born to the royal family, some say he was peasant-born. The first hero was said to have come from the sky, but other records say the first hero was born in the lands below. The Blade of Evil's Bane was forged by him, others say it was the goddess Hylia, other again say it was the First Sages. Most tales of their exploits are hearsay, written down as people told them to each other. And oral transmission is the least reliable of them all. What is also of note: never does a hero's story speak of his death. Did he live happily ever after with a wife and children? No idea, since every record simply ends after his deeds are complete. Your stories, in other words, are legends, ringing with truths but so washed out by time that the colours are faded and the patterns difficult to see. And that is also why it is such an incredible honour to... be in your presence."

Auru chuckled quietly to himself while Link fought off the usual nausea that surged from the leader's reverence. "Sir, please..."

"Forgive me. But for a scholar such as myself, you are a living myth. And if you can talk to your ancestors, you could fill in the gaps, right the misconceptions in our historical records, straighten out your own legacy for the generations to come. Your deeds speak of your greatness, your powers—"

"I'm just as confused as you, Sir," Link cut in, and bolting from the office suddenly seemed like a grandiose idea. "I don't know how to put all these pieces together."

"I will help you with that, you have my word." Auru's earnestness felt pushed and much too eager. It made Link's mouth taste bitter. "We will lift the mystery over your powers, and find out what truly makes you special. It seems your piece of the Triforce is acting passively for the moment, giving you abilities yet out of your control. Imagine what you could do if you learned how to harness that power, and use it when it is strategically most valuable!"

Link chose that moment to make a strategic retreat from the office, using what meagre powers of persuasion he possessed to smooth out the kinks his departure left in Auru's excitement. He didn't care if the Resistance leader got the message or if he was too blinded by his own obsession to notice how uncomfortable it made the younger Hylian. For the remainder of the day Link avoided the group members and retired to his room early, skipping supper.

But sleep didn't come, and he lay awake that night pondering Auru's words, the quiet tavern sounds – creaking floorboards, clanking mugs, talking between residents – muted and unregistered.

If that birthmark had been with him from the very beginning, then so had the powers, right? He stared at the ceiling invisible in the pitch black of the windowless room, trying to recall each incident in which he had been moderately hurt before; a broken arm falling from the tree that had eventually become his home; a nasty cut from a blunt scythe he'd tripped over; the fever of '72 that had ravaged the land...

He felt an unpleasant prickling in his limbs as adrenaline shot through his veins. His head felt woozy, sweat breaking out on his brow.

That fever which had claimed eight lives in Ordon, Ilia's mother among them... He'd been seven when the illness got hold of him, just old enough to comprehend the severity of it. He remembered only snippets of conscious awareness, of how Uli kept his forehead cool with a soaked rag, red rims around her eyes, of how Rusl knelt beside him holding his hand and making silly jokes, a haze of terror floating about him. Link had known something was wrong, seriously wrong, despite his foster parents putting up this charade of calmness and gaiety.

Of the nine people befallen with the illness, only he had survived. And now, he finally knew why. The Triforce of Courage had given him the resilience to break the fever before it could break him.

"Am I... immortal?"

That whispered question left his lips carrying an odd flavour, like he was eating a piece of overcooked gourmet meat drenched in gravy. Its succulence was too much, blending everything to a mush of exploding senses until the goodness was overbearing and ultimately destroyed. To him, the concept of immortality felt like this, too good and rich an idea for his humble mind to savour. All things had an end, all life eventually died and was replaced. Only gods were immortal.

And I may be a chosen hero, but in no way am I a god.

The simple notion of it scared him silly. It threw everything he'd ever believed, about himself and the world he lived in, out of whack. Him, a god? Him, immortal?

He did not even know if he could answer that question, short of ramming a dagger through his heart and see what happened. The two close calls he remembered surviving would both have been pretty final, had he not been saved by an outsider. Right?

He recalled Midna telling him of her rescue from the Lakebed Temple's depths, of how he'd been like a limp fish in her magical hold, not breathing, not moving. She hadn't felt for his pulse because the notion of a beating organ inside a person's chest had been unknown to her until recently. If she hadn't dragged him out of the water in time, would he have died?

Probably.

And after Zant shot him with the arrow, he'd felt his own life slip away like sand in an emptying hourglass. He'd sensed his breathing slow to a complete stop. There had been pain, terror, but a kind of calm too that filled his last breath with serene surrender.

But he had survived. Was it because the Wolf had taken over at the last minute, using the arrowhead's power to emerge from his dead body and keep on breathing? Had it been the Triforce? Or something else still?

No matter how much he turned and twisted those questions to find an angle yet undiscovered, he remained as oblivious as before. He even tried calling to the Wolf, but the beast was fast asleep, its primitive mind blissfully ignorant. All he was left with were those familiar crushing feelings of inadequacy. Immortal or not, he had survived when others had perished. Ilia had lost her mother while he had been given what felt – to him – like a free pass. And it sickened him to be left with no choice in the matter. Gladly would he have shared the power, or even given it away entirely, if it meant others could live on. What made him worthy to hold it in the first place? Was there even a way to share it? Or was it reserved only to him, the goddesses' damned chosen hero?

Even if immortality was just a mad fantasy with no concrete proof behind it, Auru's examples were based on observed facts, and because of that, they brought with them a fundamental certainty Link now realized he had suppressed all along; that he was indeed a strange, twisted mutant with superior muscle strength, rapid healing powers, and unnatural mental abilities. He had never been simply a Hylian foundling growing up in a Human village. All along, he'd been a freak of nature with no parents, no race, and no people. His every prowess stemmed from this divine power he'd inherited, like he had been picked out to become something better than any other creature in the world. Like everything Link was made of was not the result of an independent, maturing mind, but a power greater than life itself, a power strong enough to create entire worlds from a vortex of chaos. Like he was cultivated, grown only for one purpose, as a handler would cross-breed two races of dogs to produce a superior mutt with choice abilities.

Was this the reason Auru could still not refrain from revering Link?

Was this the reason he'd never felt truly at home in Ordon?

Probably.

He didn't know why, but it made him cry.

It was Midna who, woken by his quiet sobs, reminded him of what he had forgotten.

"You may be right about having no parents and no race, but you do have a people now, Link. You're one of three. Princess Zelda is just like you, and now we know there's a third person who holds the same divine power you do. They had to go through the same uncertainties and the same discoveries as you. They are your people."

Still drying his tears, Link pecked her on the forehead and slung his arms around her, whispering his thanks. And Midna felt her entire face glow with heat and a strange fluttery feeling in her tummy when he pressed his soft lips to her brow. Her body's reaction elicited an unbearable sense of shame, somehow, which was why she refrained from asking Link about it. Now it was her turn to lay awake after Link had fallen asleep still holding her in his arms.

But Midna did not receive an answer to her body's uncommon symptoms. All she knew was that there was no pain, and she'd learned that as long as she didn't hurt, she was safe. She felt safe, indeed, safer than ever before. And light. And deliciously warm.

And… loved.

000

Author's note: this chapter works as an inbetween to crank up the engines for the next big leg of our journey: Snow Peak. I used this time to try and analyse how Auru, now an asset faced with a strange insider's role, uses his new-found knowledge both with and potentially against Link. It is an interesting challenge to find this balance between revelation and secrecy, and it will be further investigated and elaborated upon as the journey goes on.

I also took the opportunity to show a glimpse of who Ganondorf is in this story, what his history might be, and raise questions about not only how he ended up in the Twilight Realm, but why. His letter to the king of Hyrule, whose name I invented - we have no idea what the king in OoT is called! - is a word-for-word repetition (with a slight adjustment of verb tenses) of the lines Ganondorf speaks to Link in Wind Waker just before the final battle. Although set on different timelines, both Ganons are one and the same, and his fate changes depending on the Hero of Time's actions after their fateful battle.

The dates on the letters, however, are completely made up since we never truly know how and from which starting point the years in Hyrule are counted, if they follow a Gregorian-style calendar (12 months make one year) or if one year is shorter or longer than our real-world years. We have only few mentions of passing years in the series, e.g. 7 years for OoT, 100 and 10000 years for Breath of the Wild. If in upcoming games and literature they do make mention of how years pass in Hyrule and what year marks each game in the series, I shall update these dates in the rewrite.

I have decided on the year 4183 for this setting.

And poor Midna has to deal with yet another strange new feeling, doesn't she?

I hope you enjoyed this slower, richer chapter.

Stay healthy, stay safe.

DR

Update note: Calamity of Ages: I changed the placeholder year of '21 of Ordon's fateful sickness to '72 because I'm an idiot and can't do numbers. At this point I also updated Ashei's age, see Chapter 4 and 13, because for some dumb reason I made her 25 but also an apprentice with Rusl when he was with the Group at age 15, which would have put her at 4 years of age already training with a sabre. Dear goddesses... She is now 35, a much more reasonable age to be a captain. And while we're on the subject of ages, here a quick overview of the Resistance characters I have given an age so far:

Link - 16, Rusl - 37, Auru - 59, Ashei - 35, Shad - 25, Millie - 64, Sir Garril - 26, Batreaux - 32, Noora - 31, Kyra - 15, Leena - 16, Peet - 12