Chapter 20: Dragonkind

Impa reviewed through the list of party members that she and the king would be leading to the Valley of Seers. She checked off each one who was ready to leave, and urged those who weren't to hustle. It would be a busy day, for this wasn't going to be a short trip. The valley was practically on the verge of being beyond Hyrule's domain, or within none of the kingdoms really - a true no-man's land.

She passed by the noble quarters that housed the royal guests. Each had their own lavish chambers, and a few had been bunked with relatives. Among those, were the three brothers from Lord Torkil's wintery kingdom. Impa called out to them from behind the door, but there was no reply.

Their uncle stepped out from the room next to them in the hallway. "I'm almost ready, Lady Impa," he said, moving about in such a way where he was partially blocking the door handle, almost defensively so, but with an indifferent bearing about him. "I will make sure my soldiers haul out all the gear before too long."

"Are your nephews not coming?" Impa gestured at their door.

"They're not feeling well," said Torkil, with the hint of an edge that made his apathy bewildering to fathom. "It's nothing severe, but they would be slowing us down, so I told them to stay."

"I see."

Impa didn't, to be frank. But she had no time to waste on lazy men who were probably trying to find an excuse not to go. Or it was possible that they were only scared, and didn't want to put themselves in any potential danger. As reasonable as it might be, she hardly had the proclivity to drag along cowards either.

"If they get worse, the medical wing is always available to them in the castle, as well as the healing herbs from our alchemy lab," said Impa, striking out the names of the three who wouldn't be joining them with her quill. "I'll be seeing you and the rest of the royals soon."

"Yes," the bear-slayer agreed, cautious from something she had said.

Wimps, Impa thought, rounding up any remaining royals inside, before hurrying out to the grounds again.

Torkil waited until she and the other royals had cleared from the hallway. Hunching next to the door he had been in the way of, he creaked it open. Not enough to go inside, but for his foot to wedge between. Something crunched under his boot, and he rolled his eyes at the pieces of gadfly wings on the ground. An empty potion vial was tipped on the floor, not far from them.

"Be more conscientious with your brewing and stop shedding those damn things," Torkil hissed into the obscurity of the room. "I'll need you three to keep tracking the Dragon Knight. And after he returns from this trip, we're going to continue tampering with the schedules to see where he goes when he's not on duty. With any luck, we'll uncover more truths and less suspicions."

"Uncle," said a feeble voice from inside. "This potion tastes foul, and these tiny… bug thoraxes are horrible to adapt to. We can probably make use of the morph about three more times, and it doesn't last long. Because we have to whizz back in here and go through the minuscule crack under the door - and hope no one steps on us by the way - by the time the effect wears off."

"Then you'd best make crucial use of those three more times," the bear-slayer imposed. "None of you hold any combat accomplishment to boast, but if there's something I've always been proud of, it is your skill with alchemy. You've been doing an excellent job so far."

They'd been insulted and complimented in the same sentence. A gurgled sigh escaped them, which was sufficient to satisfy Torkil. "Good," he said approvingly. "We have more plans to work on from here too. Like making sure my victory at the jousting tournament goes as effortlessly as possible."

At the royal barn, the stable boy had gone around filling water into the troughs for the horses. When Volga had arrived to check on Byrne, he found the horse gulping the water between pursed lips. The creature showed signs of being keen to sate his thirst - until he spat some of it out in a snort.

"Why do you always do that?" Volga objected. "Wouldn't you want to finish drinking your fresh spring water? And not spit the rest out… do all horses have weird quirks like that?"

Byrne whinnied and tossed his head in carefree contentment. He nudged Volga's helmet with his snout, and playfully lifted it by the fiery-colored plume.

The Dragon Knight half-admonished and half-smiled. "Hey, give it back! Alright, alright I get it - you want to be brushed. You've gotten a bit spoiled, you know that?" he set the helmet aside.

As he started brushing the white mane, he heard Impa approach. She monitored for a little while, taking in what he had learned so far. He tried not to let her critiquing eyes faze him. Repetition of what he practiced was finally setting in to become an automatic procedure, something that they had been training for on an almost daily basis.

"Not bad, Volga," she remarked. "You remembered what I told you about how grooming the horse helps build trust. Especially before a ride. And what did I say about how to tie them?"

"In such a way where it's not too confining," Volga answered. "So the horse won't feel intimidated."

"Correct," Impa tested the reins. "This is passable. Let's see the rest here. Don't forget the saddle needs to be behind the shoulder blade - you put it too far back. Then fasten the girth to the billets so it secures the saddle. There you go. Now the bridle. Reins over the head, and adjust the stirrups."

Volga did, demonstrating the method of setting up a horse for riding.

"Mount up," the Sheikah instructed. "Our group will be riding to the Valley of Seers. I think this will be good practice for you and Byrne too. Something more applicable than cantering around the fenced stables."

The Dragon Knight placed his hand on the middle of the saddle. "Are you sure I wouldn't be of more use flying? I wouldn't want to hold you all up if I trail behind. Though I'm certain I will get better with more practice."

"We'll be riding kind of slow anyway," said Impa. "Let's not forget there are royals still terrified of you, especially at the prospect of a great, hulking dragon flying over them. Not that we mind. But while flying has been a valued assistance, it won't help you improve on horseback. There'll be soldiers trudging along bulky equipment, so most of us will be falling behind. There are weapons even being pushed into the wagons for safety."

"Safety for the weapons, or where those weapons might strike?"

"Both."

If she was going to say more, their attention was distracted by the sight of the king and Zelda joining them on their royal steeds.

"Impa," the king wasted no time revising their tentative plan. "When we're about halfway until reaching the Valley of Seers - we're going to speed up ahead of the royals, and the Hylian captain will take the command for them. I want to reach the valley before they do, because I want to investigate what we're getting into first."

Impa looked up at him. "We could send scouts, too. Or is this regarding the complaints of the overworked citizens, Your Majesty? I think… I can see why you'd want us to ride ahead of them, in case we run into any settlements there. You want to help the people too, without getting the royals involved."

"Most of them wouldn't care to get involved anyway," said Zelda openly. "Unless there was something in it for them, and even so, they often disapprove when we take direct action to help our kingdom. I would like to believe not all of them are like that, but when you hear enough talking behind your back, it gets rather exasperating."

Her father nodded. "I would like to believe not all are like that too, but they tend to be very particular about their customs, and what they consider to be trivial matters. They will be ambitious to show off their weapons and skills. Best to save that for somewhere more deserted, like the Valley of Seers, once we've made sure any inhabitants near there are safe."

Volga stepped up and carefully swung his leg over the palomino, his Hylian cape swerving with him. He sat, and adjusted his ankle on the stirrup. The horse had remained calm, and the Dragon Knight gave him a thankful pat. The whole horseback process was still odd to him, but at least Byrne had lessened on the bucking, and Volga didn't spend as much time on the floor as he had from initial sessions.

He picked up the reins, sliding and separating them into position to steer the horse. "Thumbs up," Impa reminded him. "Hold the reins between your thumb and pointer finger… no, the other one. Like that."

"Alignment is important too," the king added. "Ear, shoulder, and hip. Sit up straight… well you already knew that, didn't you? That's a regal riding posture right there."

Impa observed Volga in amusement. "Truly, you do give a regal impression, Dragon Knight. There's a certain strength in your features, but now seeing you on horseback, fastened with a cape of heraldry - it's rather suited to you. It seems your demeanor wasn't limited to just the Masquerade Festival either, but a part of you. In your own way, of course. It's still beyond my comprehension how you can be both a courteous knight and a ferocious dragon, yet here we are. Now, get Byrne to move."

"Volga, you got this!" Zelda's voice cheered from a deep admiration that the two understood. An unspoken connection that brought out awe and joy in ways both gradual and sudden. The urge to express stronger than to refrain, growing bolder each time they allowed a sliver more of themselves to show, not just to each other, but around others.

Motivated, he squeezed his leg to walk the horse, and eased, following the motion on his seat. He was able to bring Byrne to a steady trot. "Like this?" He circled around them, tentatively. "Do you think Byrne will be able to handle the trip?"

"It's better than you were weeks ago," Impa said earnestly. "And I think he'll manage. This will be a healthy exercise for him."

The Sheikah turned to Zelda. "Princess, while we're gone, I trust you'll look after the castle. We'll need you to refresh the barriers around the castle walls with the court mages. The wards have been getting weaker since it's been getting colder."

"I'll be on it, Impa."

Zelda's father spoke up. "And you'll be having a line to seek an audience with you in the throne room. From signing contracts, to finding solutions for hardships of our common folk, and judging crimes. I expect Duncan's family will also be revisiting to check for an update on his whereabouts. It would give them more security seeing you there, even if we have no news yet to give."

"I understand," said Zelda thoughtfully. "I'm not sure I'd make all the right decisions but… I'll do my best."

"You can do this," Volga reassured her. "Your kingdom stands by you."

The smile that shone on her face battled her doubts, subduing them - not making them vanish, but filling her with an invigorating strength. "Thank you, Volga. Join me for a quick warm up on our mounts? I'll race you to the flag!" her liveliness caught up in her voice. "And I'll go easy - but not too easy!"

"Ah, a challenge I'm eager to accept!" He grinned, as the two kicked off with Hylia and Byrne within distance of the horizon.

Impa sighed. "Zelda may be grown, but she still has that inner child sometimes." She glanced at the king, who stood there, watching the pair with a silent, but intrigued expression on his face.

"Your Majesty?" Impa questioned. "What is it?"

"It is nothing," the king said absently. "The soldiers already had their breakfast?"

"I saw most of them still finishing up in the great hall on my way here. I'll go check on their progress."

When she was gone, a moment had passed, before Volga and Zelda returned. Their faces were flushed from the race, and exhilaration. "Another lap," Zelda said energetically. "Father, come join us! I know you all have to leave soon, but at least one ride?"

"Me?" The king was surprised at being asked such a thing. "Well I…I'm not sure?"

"Come on, Your Majesty," Volga encouraged. "It'll be fun."

Zelda's father slowly ambled over to them on his mount, and peered around as if to check no one was looking. "Fun…" he almost whispered the word, trying it out. "That's not a word I've used in a long time. I suppose we could go for a race to unwind before we leave. I would like that."

And with that, the three riders were sprinting out toward the field. The sun warming the frigid morning air, and the wind carrying the echoes with laughter - whether contained mirths or open glee. From the two capes and a dress, rustling behind them.

The sizable party followed the map north east of Hyrule. There were different paths they could have taken, like through the Faron Woods or Eldin Mountains, but they opted to go around those regions for a smoother terrain with less obstructions. The idea was to make it more convenient to get the weapons through.

Most of the weapons were covered by a heavy tarp over the wagons, each containing an emblem symbolizing the kingdom they were being transported from. Volga assumed they were likely siege weapons of some sort, or at least, yielded a similar function. With how many royals leaders, soldiers, jousting participants and the weapons being brought - they looked more like a compact army than a widespread group of travelers.

Torkil's equipment in particular, required a portion of his soldiers to be able to drag them between cart and horse. The bear-slayer himself however, wasn't swayed with their growing fatigue. He was galloping throughout the prairie on his stallion in a dark grey shroud. Whenever they passed a fencing, or fallen logs, Torkil made sure to jump over each obstacle with practiced, and sometimes exaggerated stunts.

He was trying to abase the jousting participants. Several were already looking discouraged at the notion of going up against someone with skilled horsemanship like him.

"Is he going to do this the whole trip?" Impa groaned. "I'm so glad we're going to split from them halfway."

"Oh let him enjoy his distraction, Impa," the king said, still light-hearted from earlier. "He'll sooner be prancing into quicksand before he comes to his senses."

The Dragon Knight chuckled. "I believe he's more alert than we realize. And certainly a better rider to be able to steer his mount out of trouble."

"Ah," the king said knowingly. "But you. You're the better lancer."

"The lance was the first weapon you were comfortable with using," said Impa, revisiting that childhood memory. "And even though the royals are trained on horseback from an early age, for you it was the lance and spear. You will all have advantages over each other where one does not. Also, our last jousting session proved your proficiency with defense, using the shield. Trying to knock you off the horse was like trying to prod a fortress with a twig."

Their vote of confidence was welcome. Volga recognized that he was an average rider at best, but knowing he could still utilize the weapons he had practiced with for years was a promising thought to how the tournament could turn out.

And though horseback wasn't as bad as he presumed it would be, for a trip this long where it seemed like days between their breaks for food, water, and rest - Volga had arrived to the same conclusion as Zelda; being a dragon was truly a privilege for travel efficiency. Byrne had no idea what he was missing out, and he was surely no pegasus to have known.

But even if he didn't feel a need to complain, it did not escape his attention that the humans were getting more worn down over time. Granted, some hid their discomfort or tedium better than others, especially the higher ranked soldiers. The rest looked for ways to help pass the time, or resorted to chatter.

"Have you heard?" One of the royals said in a low voice, when they were out of earshot from Impa and the king. "The king has temporarily cancelled our courting sessions with the princess. Why would he do that?"

Volga nearly halted behind them.

"Do you think she asked him to?" Another assessed. "Could she have finally found someone, and her father approved of him?"

"Well, she's just about rejected most of us so far," one grumbled. "But I heard she's not given Prince Zeran a response after their date. Which means she hasn't turned him down yet."

"I am here, you know," Zeran reminded them, trotting alongside the royals.

"What could you have possibly offered her that she wouldn't give an immediate refusal?" Torkil asked him with snide interest.

"Why that," Zeran said smoothly. "Is none of your business, Torkil. And perhaps, instead of you all gossiping like old women, we could talk about the tournament rewards we are to request from each other, if any of us are to win. Pick your kingdom well, but don't forget the request would still need to be agreed on by their ruler."

"I asked to take a maiden home and was declined," one of them complained. "I'll have to choose another request."

"You're joking, right? We can't claim ownership of another, remember?"

"Of course I'm joking! Somewhat."

Torkil sniggered at the conversation between one of the royals with a soldier, and cut in. "See, if we had been on a long trip like this in my kingdom, there would be more taverns, brothels, and inn rooms on our way. And you'd find all the maidens to satisfy you, for a hefty price, of course. What better way to continue a trip after than a strong drink and quick sex?"

"Wait, how expensive are we talking here? Could there be some shady brothels in Hyrule that we don't know about where we might find these ladies?"

"My spirit goddess would be so ashamed," a royal from the desert kingdom spoke in a thick accent, shaking his head at them. "Stop giving all of us bad names. Some of us still have a shred of decency, you know. Now. Since we've established that owning a person or whore isn't an option as a tournament reward, let's move on."

"What did you ask for, then?"

"A modest acreage in Prince Zeran's kingdom. It would be nice to have a vacation home to visit with my future family where we could be around scenic waters and pleasant temperatures rather than the endless stretch of sands amidst unpredictably extreme weather changes."

"And I have already accepted what you asked," said Zeran. "If you are to win, that is."

One of the jousting combatants joined in. "Mine was accepted too. I asked for riches. Just because you royals have plenty of it already, doesn't mean we non-royal participants do."

"I haven't made up my mind yet, there's too many things I want," another said indecisively. "And you, Zeran? Have you submitted your request?"

"I have. But it's pending approval from the king of Hyrule."

And so, they continued discussing their tournament rewards, but Volga wasn't really listening to them anymore. What had Zeran requested from Hyrule? And how serious was he about this consort of his that could involve Zelda's future with him?

"Prince Zeran," Volga addressed. "A word, if you could spare a moment?"

The mage gave him an inquisitive look. "Very well," he said, before veering his horse further from the rest of the group. They followed the soldiers from the sidelines, and Volga made sure they were especially far from Torkil. Impa and the king had glanced in their direction, but otherwise, continued on. "State what you'd like to ask."

Volga didn't want to draw any more attention than he had to, but he had to know. "Your kingdom," he began. "You said it's partly underwater, right?"

Zeran frowned. "It is," he confirmed. "And?"

"And those who live underwater, are they Zora, or a different type of race?"

The prince's eyes widened. "I'm stupefied that you're educated enough to know about the Zora. I must hesitate to answer your question, however. There are secrets each kingdom has, and they are meant to be protected. That the Occult Council protect. You will not find certain answers in your typical archives. Wait." He paused. "I know what this is about. Princess Zelda put you up to this, didn't she?"

Volga would not endanger Zelda's confidentiality. Yes, they had spoken about trying to figure out more about what the prince was up to, but she had not requested anything from him. This was a decision he made.

"So what does she want?" Zeran pressed. "Is she planning to blackmail me through her dragon bodyguard and press charges on the matter of the legality of what I proposed? To get me to send her beneficial trades to Hyrule that I wouldn't send through means other than marriage?"

"No," the Dragon Knight had not even considered this somewhat inhumane line of thought. "We would trade with you through the honor of the tournament reward. Or with the other kingdoms, depending on what Zelda and her father decided would most benefit Hyrule. Their choice would become what her… supposed consort would request, if he won."

Prince Zeran cantered in silence for awhile, and Volga kept up with his pace. When they slowed down again, the sandy hills could be seen from afar. It would not be much longer until Volga would have to regroup with Impa and the king to push ahead of the royals into the Valley of Seers.

"You're saying her supposed consort is one of the jousting participants then," said the prince finally.

"Supposedly," said Volga, in slight irony. "But the princess is faithful to the crown. She's aware of his reasonings, and responsibly denies him."

This lie would have been more reluctant to someone he respected or trusted. But in Zelda's defense, he would rather the prince turn away from what she was not yet ready to divulge. Zeran had already implied to be presumptuous of her, enough to have put himself at risk with what he offered. And now, Volga was ready to take his own risk.

If either of them tried to expose each other, they would both be in a predicament. It was like the opposite of blackmailing, and more of a gentlemen's duel. Incrementally surrendering in turns, but with no intention of defeat.

"If she denies him," said Zeran slowly. "Then why would he enter the tournament? Most of our jousting participants are requesting wealth, land… personal gain. Yet you say his reward of choice if he were victorious is to help her and the king. Why is Hyrule's safety so important to him, especially when she's bound to have a royal marriage?"

Volga's eyes flickered with emotion, but they were in a reasonable speaking distance on their mounts, and he had his helm on. "Because," he said truthfully. "He would want to help them regardless if she was to marry. Within their respectful wishes."

"So he loves her."

The Dragon Knight closed his eyes for a moment. "Some secrets are meant to be kept protected, Zeran," he repeated back at him.

Figuring this was as much as he was going to get from him for now, the prince surveyed out in the distance. "I can't tell you everything but. The underwater beings… my kingdom calls them sea elves, not Zora - and their appearance has manifested beautifully over time. They are capable of living and breathing outside of the water too. But they prefer underwater. My people are blessed with magical capabilities, including that of manipulating water. So it makes it easier to visit them, in their comfort zone."

Volga listened carefully. "So you and the rest of your humans use magic to be able to breathe underwater, and interact with them?"

Zeran nodded. "Sometimes we go under, and other times they go above. We have coral homes for them when they decide to visit, as do they for us when we swim below. And yes, we usually use magic for breathing underwater. But there's other methods too, such as through specialized tunics and gear."

"And you would go see her," Volga dared to say. He wanted to know how truthful Zeran was, and investigate what could be at stake here. If this human was lying, it would have all been in vain, and they'd be worse off than they were now.

The prince looked angry, all the sudden. "If Princess Zelda wishes to know more about my potential consort, then it's only fair that she would admit to me that she potentially has one too. You can tell her that when she's ready to engage in such a conversation again, we can privately do so in person, and not through her bodyguard as a messenger."

Volga couldn't really fault him for that. Perhaps he was overstepping his boundaries for the moment. And though he hadn't arrived on a conclusion to this prince's intentions that didn't hold bias of how much he wanted to avoid such a life - he learned more than he had expected. So maybe it was a bit of progress.

Nothing more was said as Zeran rejoined with the group. Volga rode forth to catch up to Impa and the king.

"Once we cross that bridge," said Impa, tilting her head to the point of interest she was referring to. "The three of us will take off ahead of everyone. I don't know what we are to expect, so be ready."

The overall unperturbed journey up until this point, was now restless with a cryptic atmosphere that hung over the dunes of the valley they had eventually reached. Not much could be heard but the stomping of hooves on sand or rock, and the occasional crowing, as if to alert others of intruders.

"We can hitch our horses here," the king said warily, leading them to a row of wooden, broken down posts that looked like they had either been casually destroyed or were under chaotic construction.

Volga dismounted and tied the palomino, neither tight or loose. "You did good, Byrne," said the Dragon Knight, petting his neck. He pulled out one of the waterskins from the saddlebag, and poured it into a bucket for the horse to drink from. "Here you go. But no spitting out the rest this time."

Byrne drank with haste, and after a minute, spouted out some of the water through his nostrils. Volga crossed his arms in his chest. Well, at least it was only a little bit this time.

"That's an old habit of his," said Impa, tying her other mount. "It could be the purest water in the hottest desert with him completely dehydrated, and he'd still do that."

The wind picked up, sending debris and sand into the air. With it, carried something pungent that he could not quite recall where he had last detected it. More specifically, from underneath the ground. "There's… corpses buried in this place."

"Look," Impa commented, pointing at the multiple footsteps on the sand, accompanied with strange, linear trails that stretched out far ahead. "And people too. These lines look like wagon wheels - or." she cut off.

"Or some of them were dragged," the king finished. "Or both."

With weapons in hand, they followed the king, past crumbled ruins and scattered, dead trees. The tilted branches gave the illusion of inclining toward them with every step that they took.

"Can barely see a thing with all the debris blowing in the air," Impa coughed, pulling up her shawl.

Wherein a human eye might have struggled to see, the Dragon Knight's perception from distance was more defined. Like a predator would be, when stalking prey. "It looks like there's a tower up ahead," Volga informed them. "And two forts, I think? One of them is partially built."

"The footsteps are heading in that direction," the Sheikah acknowledged to where Volga was directing at. "Let's go."

They walked onward, and as the blurry gusts of wind began to reside, the structures were starting to become more visible. Aged stones stacked upon murky walls, comprising of foundations that were being built, or ones near completion. Surrounding these were carts filled to the brim with rubble, and Volga could make out countless axels, chisels, and saws dispersed on the ground.

And humans.

Their silhouettes were moving, tinkering at the walls with their equipment. So occupied they were, that they didn't notice the arrival. If they had, this didn't seem to stop them from working. "There's something very wrong here," the king muttered. "Like there's something heavy, draining in the air."

"I feel it too," Impa said, moving sluggishly. "It's fatiguing."

A sudden searing sensation burned around Volga's eyes, and he realized they were from within the markings, like two wounds that had just been exposed to something hazardous. He clutched his dragon spear with one hand, while his other covered the side of his face.

What is happening to me? He thought, feeling a panic rise from how his body was moving mechanically, almost as if out of his control. Impa and the king appeared to be in a similar state, but more lethargic than involuntarily. Were they experiencing the searing sensation too?

"Volga. Are you alright?"

"I think so," he hesitated. "And… you two? What is going on?"

"I'm not sure," said Impa, eyeing him closely. "But it's subsiding somewhat."

Volga could see Impa's alertness and the king's concern, and felt the unseen haze gradually evaporate. Not disappearing completely, yet lingering upon all three of them like bewitched revenants watching their every move. His markings turned into a dull ache, but at best, his senses were able to focus again. He was increasingly conscious of where they were going, perhaps more than they were, and more than he had been minutes ago.

There was an architecture in front of them, taller than the others - the tower he had spotted earlier. And in each corner of this tower, were four colossal spires that reminded Volga of the stone spires he'd lift when training with King Dodongo.

All the footsteps that had been around the areas of construction, and the ones they had been tracking - led to the tower. When they advanced, two iron doors screeched open from the entrance. Volga and Impa stood at either side of the king, prepared to ready arms.

The figure came into view, revealing a robed man holding a wooden cane. He hobbled toward them, and they relaxed their grips on their weapons, but no less heedful to their surrounding.

"Oh, I thought you were all new recruits, but you're warriors. And. Your Majesty," he offered a mannerly nod. From here, his wrinkled face could be seen. Deep circles surrounded his eyes, conveying a numbly hallowed expression. "How may I help? I'm the owner of the museum. Come, let's get out of this windy weather."

Volga took note that he had not stated a name. And that, there was a chained pendant around the human's neck. Dangling from it, was what looked like an hourglass charm, except it was shaped like a rook. Inside this glass were darkened particles that were too powdered to be sand. There was something disturbing about this talisman, but he'd have to hold that thought, for Impa and the king were pursuing the man inside the tower. The Dragon Knight took one more glance outside before heading in with them.

There were scuffling noises behind the tower, indicating activity and a possible alternative exit. So should he have need to escort them to escape, that could be an option in case this door somehow locked them off.

Once inside, a single torch dimmed within a small expanse of space in the room. The museum owner grabbed it, and lit up the other sconces on the wall. Though the lighting hadn't improved much, Volga could see the dust gathered up on the furniture and display cases. Most of the cases were empty, save for a few indistinguishable artifacts that must not have been cleaned in a long time.

"I'm afraid there's not much to see of my exhibit for now," the museum owner's voice rang in the semi-darkness of the room. "Filling up the collection is being put on hold until more buildings are complete."

The king stopped before a shattered case, and took a step away from the glass on the ground, motioning for Impa and Volga to be careful too. "Those buildings outside? What are they for?"

"Keeps," the man certified. "They are being built as close to the accuracy of a real keep, as part of the museum's project to show how keeps would be used in times of war." his tone sounded more like he had been regurgitating lines from a lecture. "Of course, these keeps would be at your disposal should you ever have need for them, Your Majesty."

Zelda's father did not sound pleased about this. "A generous offer, but not one I would be in good conscious of considering what I heard about the hands that slaved these walls. I've been receiving letters from my citizens expressing distress for their family members. They claim they've been overworked, with little to no food, water, or rest. And they stated that most of the workers haven't even returned home yet."

"Then you're here about that," his emphasis did not reflect from feeling, but with acknowledgment. "It is an exaggeration. You can ask any of the workers outside, and they'll tell you that they are perfectly fine. Those family members of theirs have started visiting here more frequently to check up on them. It's a bit inconvenient, really. Some are here now, as a matter of fact. They're in our guest lounge."

"Take me to this guest lounge."

"As you wish."

"Your Majesty," Impa whispered, from behind the man. "Something is very off about all of this."

"I'm aware."

Volga turned to the museum owner. "Are these workers under the same trance that we were in a moment ago on our way here? Or whatever that was?"

"My, we have an observant one," his sinister talisman glowered from the light of the torch he was holding. "It's a simple passive spell. My commander sometimes sets them so we remain… incentivized while working. Keeps us tranquil and focused. No harm, really."

"Commander who?" Impa narrowed her eyes.

"Look, here's one of my workers now," the robed man interrupted, not answering her question. "Come take a break, associate. And let these visitors know what you think about your job."

There was a distinct possibility that the museum owner deliberately kept the lighting to be poor so the shadows would more discreetly cover this worker's physical features. But Volga could see that the man was sickly and gaunt, with the same sunken circles under his eyes that the museum owner had. And when he spoke, his voice held a similar lifelessness too.

"My job has been a wonderful opportunity," he said mildly. "For so long I've worked to survive, but now I can actually set money aside and give my family a better life."

They were all so monotonous in how they justified their well-being. What had these people been going through?

"With all due respect," the king interjected. "I think your family might care more about your health than your wealth."

"I am well. And I should get back to work."

When he left, the museum owner took them up a spiral staircase. "So you see," he said calmly. "We are all getting by. Yes, we've been working hard, but the riches have been worth the push."

"This commander of yours," the king said sternly. "Is the one who hired all of you?"

"If you want to request an audience," the man said automatically, indubitably used to these questions. "I can send the word. You three can wait in the guest lounge until arrival arrangements are made. There are refreshments inside for the guests, so go ahead and help yourselves. And here we are." He opened the door.

The guest lounge held evidence of having once been intended to be partially a cafe, as well as a nursery with small rooms in the far back, likely for when families needed time to attend to their babies when visiting. Those rooms were vacant. For the rest of the lounge however, were children in the dining area, along with women, elders, and a few men.

These people were seated at tables and antique couches; either talking, playing a game with faded cards, or napping uncomfortably. Near them was an island counter against a wall, where a man was serving drinks and dried fruits. He had the same blank expression as the museum owner and the worker they had witnessed.

But everyone else here maintained a diversity of emotions, though a troubled anxiety was shared among them. Upon seeing Volga, Impa, and the king - gasps and mumbled comments followed forth. Some even had hope in their eyes.

"Is that," a middle-aged woman inched closer to them. "The marked dragon?"

"It definitely is," a man similar in age, approached with her. They were staring at Volga with an awed recognition that he did not understand. Marked dragon? He had never been referred as that before.

"Do you know these people, Volga?" The king asked.

Volga shook his head, confused.

"You wouldn't remember us, because you were merely a baby," said the woman. "We were the ones who brought you to Hyrule. To the lizard folk."

Volga thought he misheard her at first. Nevertheless, he turned speechless. W… what?

"Are you family?" The king said considerately.

"We're acquaintances of his family," the woman corrected. "Maybe we should go talk for a bit in one of the rooms in the far back. I'm not sure how much time we'll have until the commander arrives."

Volga was not bothered by Impa and the king being present to this conversation. They had made sure with him in case he wished for more privacy with these two, but truth to be told, the Dragon Knight didn't know what he wanted. It could be the suddenness of the situation, or the fact that he was trying to prepare himself to deal with whoever this commander was, along with the other ominous concerns of this valley.

Or it was also a denial of anticipating what he would find out, fighting with the part of him that needed to know. A part that he had been recently acknowledging more, yet this didn't make it any easier to react to. What was he to say? Please go ahead and explain to me why you abandoned me in a volcanic cave as a baby with the assumption that the reptilian clan would look after me. It seemed bitterly sarcastic, and maybe he was, but he wanted to hear them out first before letting emotion speak for him.

"We're not really sure of how to begin," said the woman uncertainly. She had been sitting next to the man on cold, iron chairs with a table that separated between the other seats. They had drinks on the table, but neither Volga nor Impa took any. The king was tempted, but thought against it, and instead sat with them and observed.

Impa settled at the doorway with her arms crossed, still near enough to listen, but also to keep her eyes on the rest of the guest lounge. Specifically for signs of when the museum owner would return. Volga was somewhere between occasionally glancing out with her, and pacing slowly in the nursery room. He hadn't sat at one of the chairs yet, but he briefly made eye contact with the two strangers, then turned away again.

The man peered at Volga, in disbelief that he was really there. "You look so much like your father. In stature and his eye color. But also…"

"Your mother's expressiveness," said the woman, with a smile. "And her strong cheekbones."

"Are," Volga was finally able to formulate speech. "Are they humans instead of dragons, then? Or. Both, like me."

"They are both like you," the woman explained. "They each have a dragon and a human form they swap between. There's an ancient name for this race, but we'd rather not say it for now, because it is classified for a reason. So we refer to these beings as dragonkind."

"And you two can do that as well?" Impa asked curiously.

The man shook his head. "No, I'm just a man. But I lived in the homeland of the dragonkind, where people co-existed in peace with them for ages. Full dragons also visited, but they preferred living further away to themselves. War and dragon hunters from other lands however, had hindered the population of both dragons and dragonkind. I can't say much on that for now though, especially in regards to the location of our domain. For their protection."

"I understand," said the king thoughtfully. "Though rest assured we have no intention of contributing to their decline."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. You show a compassion like his father and mother had."

Volga had so many questions, but again, he was at loss for words. He skimmed his hand over the upper rail of a cradle. The empty cushion inside held a small maraca, and he gently reached out. It made a faint rattling sound, like the ones Koroks were thought to have made - perhaps this toy was crafted as such. He placed it back pensively.

"I don't have a dragon form," the woman responded to the Sheikah. "But my mother was dragonkind. And my father human. Not all offspring are guaranteed to have dragon forms, though it's not unlikely either. Instead I inherited heightened senses, moreso than a normal human's at any rate."

They mulled over this information for a moment. "So," the king said in wonder. "The dragonkind are able to have children with either other dragonkind, or the humans. Are the babies born as humans or dragon eggs?"

"How they are born usually depends on the mother," said the woman. "A full dragon will have eggs with her fully dragon mate. If she's dragonkind, her children are either born human or from egg - depending on what form she conceives them in. If the mother of the child is human, and the father is dragonkind - the baby will be born like a human would, comfortably from womb. Any potential developments in dragon abilities takes place as they get a little older."

The king rubbed a hand under his chin, deep in thought, something Volga and Impa were used to by now. "Fascinating," he said to himself, but aloud. There was a subtle worry along the lines of his face, yet his eyes held an unexpected relief that the Dragon Knight himself, was experiencing. As much of the conversation was still sinking in, it helped clear much of the ambiguity he had wondered about.

"Are my parents here?" Volga was surprised by the tinge of hope in his own voice as he sat down with them. "In this valley with you two?"

Their faces fell, and they stared down at their drinks. "No. We're here because the settlement in the outskirts where we've been living in since leaving our homeland - have been taking up on the job opportunities of this place. We came to check it out, but the museum owner said we had to wait here with the other guests until we'd be attended to."

"You mean one of those settlements where it's not governed by any kingdom?" Impa prodded.

"Yes," the man replied. "It's not terribly far from here, but in a more civilized portion of the valley. Lately however, it's not felt safe living there. We've heard of unusual activity happening on these sands, and we fear if we have to migrate again, if they are demons."

At the mention of demons, the king's face darkened. The sympathy he had exhibited was now haunted by the face of a war veteran. "There's demons here?" He muttered dangerously.

"We haven't seen them in a long time," the woman said nervously. "But they've invaded kingdoms, and brought destruction wherever they went. It's why we had to leave our homeland and live like nomads for years, even after the demons had been defeated by your kingdom. Their commander slain by you, Your Majesty."

The king rose up from his chair and turned away. He tapped at his sheathed weapon. "The Windburst, my army had called this blade. I didn't only slay the demon commander," his hand clenched into a fist. "I ripped his lungs apart with wind magic and my blade. The only magic I knew, that my queen had taught me, only without the grotesque intent I had made it become. Because after the demon commander killed her, after she sacrificed herself for me - I could think of nothing but annihilating him."

"And after I did," he said coldly. "I was not satisfied. I wanted to tear apart all the demon armies - and those allied with them, with the might of this magic. But as I realized I was starting to lose my sanity, the power horrified me, and I ceased it away. Unless I had to face a demon commander again, it's been dormant ever since."

Impa nodded gravely, as Volga learned of this story he had not known. The king sighed, and faced them again, looking calmer now. "I didn't mean to get carried away," he apologized. "This is about Volga's family, not my murderous days of revenge against the demons."

"It's sort of related, really," said the woman delicately. "And I'm sorry to hear of this traumatizing experience. You can see then, that we too faced a common enemy. The demons had taken away the lives of your people and your wife - as they had taken much from us as well. At least your kingdom still stands. Our land is in ruins."

"Did you never go back?" The king inquired. "Did Volga's parents not look for him?"

A question Volga very much wanted to know, but he hadn't been sure of how to address it yet. He was still thinking about what he was learning from them and the king.

"This is a complex story to explain," said the man, exchanging an uneasy glance with the woman. "You see. When the demon army invaded our homeland, they sought to subjugate all of us, just like they had recruited other races to fight with them. The dragonkind refused, and there was war. But the numbers of the demon army were far greater than ours, and their magic breached through our defenses - though unlike your reservations with your wind power, they were always merciless with any magic they had. And then." He turned to Volga. "They saw you, when you were a baby. The marked dragon, they called you."

The woman continued where he had stopped. "They had promised your parents that if you were to be handed to the demon army, they would leave all other dragonkind alone and cease the fighting with them."

At this, Impa shot a strange look at the king, but he did not return it. Rather, he displayed a troubled solicitude, from what he was hearing.

"Your father," the woman seemed reluctant on how much she should say. "He bid time to give your mother a chance to escape with you, holding back their forces. But your mother would forever be hunted by the demons, and with her knowing that, she pleaded us to take you away instead. We knew Hyrule had the most victories over the demons at the time, so we entrusted your survival to where we hoped no one would ever find you. We couldn't raise you ourselves, because eventually the demons hunted us down too. You were never safe as long as you were with us."

Volga wasn't sure if the anger he suddenly felt was for the demons, or a neglect from his parents that didn't add up, or that he had no choice in any of this - possibly a bit of everything.

"Couldn't my parents have at least checked up on me?" the Dragon Knight countered. "Or after awhile? I mean, there's not been any demon activity for years as far as we know. They had all this time to look for me, and the option of flight. If they knew I was in Hyrule, surely they had seen me fly by now."

The woman withdrew into silence, and the man's voice grew impatient. "It wasn't that easy- and flying would have given them away to the demons! You were in danger. Your family had to let you go, so that they could ensure both your safety, and theirs."

"Family doesn't abandon each other!" Volga exclaimed. "They stay together, and protect one another. At least that's… that's how I see it. I would guard family with my life!"

"Volga," the king rested a hand on his chair behind him.

"And family also leaves us when circumstances happen that are beyond our control," the man argued. "There is so much more about where you come from and what you are that you don't know. About the dragons, and what caused most of them to split from the dragonkind. About people uniting, and demons separating everything else. About your parents, and what they had lost. And it's not in our place to tell you more, because we've already said more than we should have."

"Whose place is it, then?" Zelda's father said curtly.

"The silver serpent that slithers under the sands of this valley every year," the woman answered. "It speaks, and it will tell you everything else you need to know where we can't. This creature has been keeping the demons away throughout its traveling routine. You missed its more recent surveillance, but it'll be making its way in this direction in three months, before leaving for another year."

Before any of them could let this unprecedented change of subject register, the door from the other side of the guest lounge opened. The robed man had returned, and the quiet chatter in the lounge past their room had died down.

"Right," said the museum owner. "Everyone, follow me. My overseer is here. She's the one that keeps our workers in line, and will see you in place of her… mindfully busy commander."