A/N: Get ready. A spoopy chapter for spoopy month.

Chapter 25: The Broken Song

The fog came thick the next morning, spreading out from the Lost Woods and into the Village of Rauru itself, brought on by the late night summer rains. Even the Minshi Woods were not spared the ghastly mist, for its grey fingers reached even to the edge of the river to the south and dangled above the lilies in Pico Pond in the east.

The locals whispered that spirits wandered the roads on haunted mornings such as this. When the fog was thick on the ground, and the cucco in the tower was slow to announce the dawn. When the air smelled dank and of ancient trees. When the fae lights glowed not just between the trees of the Woods but also among the homes of the living. The shadows of the Woods, it was said, walked the streets. Figures, dim, flowed, beckoning. Words on hidden lips whispered ever from the mist.

Only fools and ghosts entered such a fog. Bazz did not know which he was, but he had business with the souls of the restless Woods this day, and he had no intent on being late.

Without a hitch in his stride, the Zora swathed in black stepped out from the inn and into the green-grey light of pre-dawn. The fog was so thick that only silhouettes lingered within, like shadows of buildings and objects projected from another world. For a moment as he trudged through those streets, he was cast back in time, to a village, now dormant, filled with true monsters. To a place where each day a fog like this sprung in the wee hours before dawn.

The Dark World laid heavy on the Light this day, and Bazz clung to his spear, the silver cold and real beneath his fingers. A reminder that he was still here among the living. That his return to the Realm of Light was not just a vision his mind had conjured one night as he slept. That the last few years were not just a pleasant dream, and he had awoken again in the Dark World as he had done for so many long and harrowing years.

Nan, Linkle, and even Viscen seemed to think he feared, quite frankly, nothing. But a fog like this… His stomach twisted with dread. Anxious already, though he would not wake the others until later.

Maybe by then, the fog would not be so thick, and he could be as brave as his subordinates believed him to be.

It was, bless Nayru, not too far a trek from the inn to his destination at the edge of town opposite the forest. The distinct scent of manure mixed with the dank smell of foggy mourn, making for a particularly strong malodor. In the grey twilight, he spotted the faint glow of warm lantern light spilling out of the lonely stables where the few horses in town were kept. Their population had recently tripled from two to six, plus the one young Gerudo who had never come to the inn after escorting the horses here last night.

As quietly as he could, he entered the padlocks. The two local horses fled to the furthest corners of their stalls, spooked, no doubt, by his strange scent. One of the pack horses lifted its head, but only briefly, and his own draft horse… That gelding eyed the local horses, snorted, and went back to happily munching his oats. The feeding bucket, Bazz saw, was surprisingly full, but there was no sign of the stablehand in the stables.

This felt like finding an ominous note. One scribbled quickly and slid between the wooden planks of a stall door left for him to find. Wary, Bazz quickened his pace, then threw open the door of the last stall in the barn. He would have to pay for new hinges. And a new door.

"Damn."

Only a lantern burned in the stall. With a spume of water magic, he doused the light.

But a light still filled the stables. Dim as candlelight. Heartbeat quickening, Bazz whirled around, cloak spinning in a wide half-arc, spear pointed at the newcomer to the stables, be it Hylian or ghoul.

"S-sah-sorry!" said the newcomer. But despite the spear pointed at his neck, the stable boy managed to hold onto his lantern even as he raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender.

Bazz lowered his spear. "At ease."

"I...goddesses. I really am sorry." He punctuated the last words with a low bow, hair a powdery blond in the pale lantern light. "But if you are looking for your friend, she rode off towards the forest…"

"The Lost Woods?" He had expected it to be the other way around, given her paranoid and skittish tendencies. He had thought Ruuya had finally decided to use this expedition as an easy way to flee Hyrule and make her way to safer waters. A place, perhaps, where Hylians and Vaati could not trouble her anymore. But truly, he had expected her to try to go sooner if that was her intent. This news… Bazz returned to Seafoam's stall. He'd needed to leave in haste ten minutes ago. "Is that girl insane?"

"Perhaps." The man scratched the back of his head. "I wouldn't know. But that look in her eyes…"

"Yes," he agreed, stepping into the stall. "I was unwise to let her…"

Bazz paused, then bit his tongue. Someone had readied the chocolate flaxen horse to ride. Bit, bridle, and saddle were in place and fastened. Someone had thought he might need to head out. But Ruuya really wasn't in the right state of mind to do so. In fact, she would not be in the right state of mind to so much as leave a lantern in the stall to waylay him…

Behind Bazz, the lantern went out. He paused, hand gripping the gelding's reins. The light had been pale. Orange in shade, yes, but with a hint of ghastly green.

A ghost lamp.

That hadn't been the stable boy.

Why would a poe…? No. He didn't have time. Fathoming the undead was for priests, not soldiers. Taking Seafoam's reins, Bazz guided the flaxen-maned chocolate horse out of the stable. There he joined the fools and the damned, and rode out into the forest fog.

He brought his steed to a slow walk once they had reached the edge of the dark green moat across from the Lost Woods. Here the fog had grown thicker, somehow. So thick, in fact, he could barely make out the outline of dead trees across the moat. But he had seen the new maps rendered in this age. Before they had set out on this mission, he had spent weeks studying them and memorizing their contents just in case fate forced them to enter the forest depths and not just its eaves. A wise commander always prepared for such eventualities.

But there were no maps of the deepest depths. The paths in these Woods were as unknowable as the deepest sea. Did he really think he could find Ruuya if she had entered the forest? And what of that other man's daughter, Marin? He had given his word that he would bring her back! What hubris, Bazz thought, shaking his head, feeling both wary and ill. Might Nayru save us from heroes, indeed.

He cursed himself. Why did he always end up doing such things? Gaddison, though long dead, was right. He always tried to find replacements for the eggs they had lost. For the children, taken, then so ruthlessly killed…

The familiar low whiney of a horse echoed from upstream, trembling with sorrow. A few moments later, a breeze blew past his head, taking with it some of the densest fog and blowing back the hood of his black cloak. In front of the entrance stood not just Jamila, but Ruuya holding her reins in one limp hand, the other threaded through the mare's black mane. Yet, her eyes did not see her steed.

He doubted she saw anything. She did not notice the horse and its rider as they approached. She did not hear him dismount, though his armor clinked when his feet touched the muddy ground. She did not so much as jump when he, a man, placed a hand on her shoulder. She barely even winced.

No, all she did was stare through that entrance where the branches twisted up and made an arch above their heads and grey mists lit the ground below. Her irises were the size of pinpoints, her head cocked to the side, and a strange but cheerful song she hummed out of tune, echoing and eerie in the unnatural gloom.

Again, Jamila let out that low and saddened sound.

"Ruuya?" he asked.

"Did he come?"

Bazz jumped back. He hadn't expected an answer.

She tilted her head back only to look through him, amber eyes aglow, a cold smile crossing her face.

"The one who wields the sword. The steel that pierces the eye." Her smile widened. Her teeth bared. She giggled. "The light, sacred, against the dark. It's here. He's here. She's here."

She threw back her head and laughed, something old, bitter, and twisted in that euphoric sound. Instincts kindled, Bazz bent his legs slightly, spear readied to fight, but quickly straightened. There was nothing here but fog, trees, and a defenseless young woman shaking with laughter in their midst, caught in a trance. Haunted, it seemed, just as surely as this ancient wood. A spear could not pierce such visions.

The last giggles popped and splattered like malice bubbling up from a well. Then her smile wilted, and at last, she blinked, but her gaze remained unfocused.

"Alysse…" she said, her voice small but echoed. She crumpled to her knees, whimpering, head now in her hands. "Oh Din. Alysse. Am I evil too? I...I know I am...it's why…"

He did not answer. Uncertain, even, if he could. He was not, could never be, that to any of these children, especially this one. No matter how Naneth might mock his paternal instincts. He was certain, too, that if he tried to move her she would fight him, even in her current state, and might summon fire in her defense. So, instead, he sat with her as she wept and murmured incoherently, his spear in his hands in case anything dared to spring from the ancient woods.

No matter his own apprehension, he would face it to protect those in his charge. Let them see his fear, and let them tremble.

His hands would stay steady in the fog.

/-/

Cold air brushed his cheek, stirring Vaati from his slumber. He shivered, a chill clamped around his bones despite the bundle of comforters and blankets cocooned around him. Damnable drafty old manor. Curling the blankets around himself tighter, he blearily lifted his eyes to the window. No light peeked from beyond the thick curtains, leaving his room dark as pitch. True morning had not yet come, at least according to him. No sane man woke before seven.

Vaati grumbled to himself as he turned over just as miserable as the night before. It wasn't enough that he had felt a disquieting unease for the past few days, haunting his every step. It wasn't enough that he had to stand there and watch as two humans postulated and skirted around what they wanted in the name of politics. No, the goddesses had seen fit to curse him with an illness worse than the cold he had acquired in Windfall Village, or the one he caught last winter in Castle

It hadn't been nearly so bad at dinner. He could still walk then, if on unsteady legs. But now, in the dead of night with no moonlight to see by, he was drained. He couldn't get warm and his wrist itched as if ants were crawling around it. Perhaps in the morning-

He stopped burrowing into the blankets.

No. His clock struck six. It was technically morning. Barely.

Vaati pulled back his curtains. The sun had not yet shown its face, though it was grey outside. A fog laid heavy in the pre-dawn light, slightly aglow in the twilight.

Still, it was summer. So why was he so cold? Hyrule Castle Town wasn't as nearly temperate as Windfall Village, but even the nights were warm at this time of year.

Ants skittered across his skin, like a thousand pinpoints pricking him. And…

And it felt as if someone was watching him.

From behind him.

And over his shoulder.

Vaati rolled over again, back to the wall, kicking his blankets down. The room was still dark, save for a dim glow of grey-blue, but his eyes were adjusting.

And the eyes. Those eyes. Never blinking.

They were still staring at his back.

A child's giggle echoed against the darkened walls of his bedroom chamber.

Vaati shot up straight, one hand grasping his wrist, red sparks flickered on his fingertips as he tried to summon his magic. "Who's there?" he demanded, voice rough. "Show yourself!"

There were no movements.

"You chose poorly," he growled. "I am the Great Vaati, the Lord of Winds, the Sovereign of Shadows, the most powerful sorcerer to ever–"

An orb of light winked into existence. Then another. And another. They floated in the air, soft and white. Fog seeped in through the window cascading down and across the floor.

Alarm bells went off in Vaati's head. He needed to leave. Now.

Shaking and with great reluctance, Vaati threw off his covers and reached under his pillow. From beneath it, he withdrew and unsheathed a dagger. He'd long known this day would come, when someone, or something, would try to infiltrate his home. This must be that Sheikah's schemes.

He may have been magicless, but he was not powerless. He planted his feet on the floor, locking his knees when they threatened to give. Every inch of him screamed to wrap himself back in the blankets again, but it also yelled to escape from this place as soon as possible.

Then, from inside, not out, he heard the rustling of leaves.

His hands grew sweaty. His fingers trembled, then shook so hard that his grip loosened and he dropped the knife. It landed point up standing straight on its pummel, blood dripping black from the blade onto his carpet.

The voices giggled. The eyes watched from behind. The trees rustled inside his chamber.

"It's here," came a whisper, silent as silk.

"He's here." A breeze in the eaves.

"She's here," hissed the shadows.

One of the lights popped open an eye. The others followed, each blinking at him in turn. Vaati reached, again, for the bloodied dagger, now bleeding black mist from its steel tip. With a scream that pierced the night, he stabbed a fae light in its eye.

It giggled.

Vaati ran for the Castle, a song lilting and jingling behind him, slightly off-tune. The fog followed, unrelenting, even into the Potion Room.

/-/

Linkle woke to visions of a wolf with golden fur in her head, harassing her with words instead of claws and teeth as such beasts usually did. She knew that. Knew it because she'd grown up on a ranch and herded goats and sheep and shot down wolves with crossbow bolts when they preyed on the livestock. It should have been too silly to scare her. But, it did, because of those words it kept insistently yelling.

"Wake up!" he said, as he chased after her through green woods on verdant green hills. "Wake up! Oh c'mon, get up! I know you want to sleep all day. I did too. But, my child, you have to wake u–"

"–because you're lazy as a cat that just drank a whole damn bowl of milk and sauntered over to the nearest sunbeam to catch a wink," Nan all but shouted, the voice transitioning to hers. Instead, Linkle covered the girl's head with her pillow. "Murmurmur mahmur mumumum!"

So. Much. Better. Linkle closed her eyes, and started to see golden fur at the edges of her vision once more. The wolf growled.

Nan did too. "Mrrrgrgrgr!"

Uh oh. Nan snatched the pillow off her head and let it fall with a gentle thump. However, Linkle, who was better trained in finding ways to fall back asleep than wielding a sword, rolled her head face-down on her other pillow and folded the sides up over her long ears. This just produced another growl from the impatient squire.

And a peck from the owl that, at times, hung around her friend like a witch's familiar. She'd even said so once. The truth never hurt. Nan had, of course, rolled her eyes and fed it another rat. Oddly, on this trip it had spent all its time exploring the skies above the Woods, having disappeared for nearly a week, until, unfortunately, it came back today.

She had hoped and prayed it had gone for good. She had hoped and prayed in vain as always. Gods didn't care about a ranch girl's prayers. It wasn't like she was a princess or anything.

That was when it gave one pointed ear a good snip.

"Ugh. Fiiiine, mom, I'm up," she whined, rolling onto her back. The owl gave an abrupt hoot, so loud she had to cover her ears again. That caused that damn bird to go for another peck, right on the nose. "Hey!"

The resultant hooting sounded quite a bit like laughter. Linkle glared, meeting those weird starlit eyes for a good minute. Unfortunately, she blinked first.

Nan, meanwhile, had placed her hands on her hips.

"Are ya done arguing with the bird?"

She sighed. "I guess." But Linkle kept an eye on it regardless. "What is, ah, you look...serious?"

Very serious. The usual, playful Nan had gone, replaced by this strange creature before her. Dressed in the steel plate reserved for squires, she wore a sword at her waist, and a shield on her back. She even wore a frown, though really, that expression on Nan's face was more of a mockery of such cheerful characters as Sir Bazz and Sergeant Viscen. Speaking of…

That was definitely sunlight, though a bit grey and musky, falling through the half-open shutters. And speaking of that…

Oh no.

Oh Hylia!

"I slept in!"

"Calm down."

"But I…" The others, she noticed, were somehow still asleep. "You've learned a new trick!"

Nan had shown Linkle a bit of magic. Apparently, Nan could only use light and fire spells with any ease, or play a few silly tunes on her lute that could make others do silly things. The lute, she had said, was a gift from her mother.

"Sure, yeah," Nan replied, then kicked one of the sleeping soldiers. Gus grumbled and turned over on his side, still drooling away on his mat. One hand gripped at the strange ring he kept on a cord around his neck. What a weirdo. "'Cept it wasn't me."

She frowned and tilted her head, thick blond bangs falling into one eye. "It wasn't?"

"Light mage, 'member? This is like wind and shadow and, oh, you probably can't sense residue magic," she said, scrunching up her brow. "It didn't really work on me, but everyone else…"

"Is Sir Bazz asleep?" she asked, pumping her fists, excited by the thought of mischief. "We could–"

"Nope." The younger girl shook her head, popping her 'p' as always. "He's gone. Think he slept out in the rain or something, you know, Zora."

"Basically a land whale. He so loves being wet."

This, of course, made Nan snicker. "Never say that unless you're Zel," she reprimanded cheekily, grinning. "Or else." Then pretended to slice her own throat with her finger.

"Yeah, yeah, unless I want to know how long it takes to scrub a giant kettle until the inside gleams like crystal."

Both girls shuddered. It never gleamed like crystal until sun up the next day. At least if you asked the First Lieutenant, that was. Sir Bazz had some impossible standards for "clean". You learned very quickly in the Brigade not to make any giant fish jokes, even silly ones, unless you wanted to suffer.

"But Bazz never noticed this spell. Never came back to wake us up neither." This time, both Nan and the owl now perched on her shoulder turned to stare at Linkle, completely in sync and taking a long second to blink. Now that was unnerving. Definitely a familiar. "And Ruu's gone, too."

"You think they went to the Woods without us."

"Yup."

"Why?" She scratched the back of her head.

Nan shrugged, and the next thing she said was the most typical Nan thing ever: "Don't know, but I got this real bad feeling...we gotta find them."

"Great."

She hated when Nan pulled her into things based solely on some stupid feeling. This could only end badly.

Because something deep in those Woods was calling her, too. A song that was eerie, cheerful, but off-tune.

/-/

A small crack disturbed the rustling of the trees. Bazz jerked his head up and to the left. There shouldn't have been anything there. The Lost Woods was surrounded by water. A long drop into a deep moat. There should have been nothing behind him at least.

And yet, the noise.

He adjusted his grip on his spear. The winds shifted ever so slightly.

Two glaring red lights lit up within the mists.

A second afterwards, the Woods came alive with the clanging of sword, shield, and spear. Undead bones rattled along with the forest's tune.

/-/

"I really hope that water doesn't do anything weird to yah," Nan said, hands on her hips and studying the bulky draft horse as it drank from the eerie and green moat surrounding the great old Woods. "Don't look healthy and that's a fact."

Nan leaned closer. Most horses, like those which carried their packs, would've been startled by her seemingly sudden appearance out of the fog, but this dumb chocolate-flaxen idiot just looked back at her and blinked one dark watery eye instead. Then went back to drinking more gunk from the river of sludge.

"Did ya forget you were looking for us or something?"

No answer, just more slurps.

"Or do you just like goin' on merry rides through the spooky fog first thing in the morning?"

The owl returned, fluttered up onto her shoulder, and gave a hoot. "Do you speak horse, Stella?"

Stella gave her head a gentle but solid peck in rebuke. "Yeah, yeah, guess he ain't a bird…"

"It doesn't seem like Jami is here," Linkle said, popping out of the fog like a damn poe, giving off faint shades of brave green aura. She'd gone to scout ahead and look for the dark bay horse from the desert. Nan did not jump. Water did not splash. Her left sock was definitely not soaked through to the toes, now. Nan glared at the former rancher, unamused. "Or the others. Guess Ol' Foamy here got lost."

Seafoam gave an angry snort, flaxen tail flicking. She wasn't sure if it was the mention of "lost", "Foamy", "old", or all three that had triggered his anger, but he was no longer interested in drinking reeking moat gunk, at least.

"Ah, poor boy," said Linkle, giving his flank a pat. He went to step on her foot, but missed it by an inch as the girl side-stepped out of the way, quick as always. "So, did Jami stay behind?"

The horse went back to drinking. Linkle, giving a nod like she could somehow understand this confounded creature, smiled.

"That's a yes." Oh goddesses. "Otherwise, he'd be more worried. Go back to town, Seafoam."

Nan raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Sure." But the gelding had already trotted off towards the village, , down the east path.

But Linkle had already begun to walk off downstream towards the entrance of the Lost Woods.

As she strolled, Linkle whistled along with the strange song Nan swore she heard from the branches of the dead trees rustling in the wind. It made her shiver. How did Linkle know that song?

The grey fog grew thicker as they walked. Nan grew more weary, worried they might miss the land bridge which crossed over to the Woods. Worried that they would find nothing but corpses and undead when they arrived at the entrance to the deepest parts of that dreadful forest.

She shivered, reaching for the bird on her shoulder. No, that had been on her shoulder. By the Heavens, why did Stella have to choose now, of all times, to head off?

They found Jamila at the entrance of the Lost Woods, ears back and stamping the ground. Her lead dragged in the moist dirt.

No Captain Bazz. No Ruuya. Only mist, fog, and trees.

"What are you doing out here?" Linkle whispered, clearly putting herself within the mare's sight. She slowly reached up and started patting her head.

Nan glanced between Jamila and the girl, her frown deepening. "This ain't right," she said. "Ruuya never leaves her behind."

Linkle didn't look away from the mare. "What does it mean? She didn't just bring her out here just to abandon her, right? That doesn't sound like Ruu."

"It means," Nan said, hand on the pommel of her sword, "they got separated." She turned to the twisted archway of boughs and marched forward. "Let's go."

A few snatches of song rustled through the leafless trees.

/-/

He was not sure how long they had stayed there, how many undead he had vanquished, but as he finished spearing another poe through its head, he heard the rustle of cloth from behind him. Turning, breathing unsteady, expecting another foe, Bazz raised his spear.

Instead, Ruuya had stood up, her eyes still empty.

"I hear the wind," she murmured, and started to walk away and through the arch of twisted trees. "It...he...they guide me."

The fae lights followed her steps. The song, off-tune, jingled as they danced in her wake. Like a shadow, Bazz tailed her, deeper and deeper into the Woods.

/-/

Nan wasn't sure how long they had been walking in this dreary maze of a forest. It might have been hours. It might have been days. She was starvin', and every time she tried to guess where the sun was in the sky, all she caught were wisps of fog dancing through the treetops. What she was certain of was that they should've stayed with Jami. The horse had been smart to stay put and not enter these blasted Woods! The fog was just getting deeper and deeper, the trees barely visible in the thick murk, the foliage and leaves dry and cackling beneath her feet. It was like dunking her head in a scummy pond and trying to see what was at the bottom. Disappointing, and getting nobody nowhere.

A gust of wind whisked up, sudden and strong, blowing Nan back a few good feet. Pushing forward, arm raised to block any flying twigs and dead leaves, she squeezed the nearest tree and closed her eyes tight.

When the winds died a moment later, she opened them. Not even a hint of blonde hair or green tunic in sight. Trying to push down her rising panic, she called the girl's name instead.

"Linkle?"

No one answered.

"Linkle?"

Nothing stirred despite her screams. The Lost Woods had gone silent.

The ever persistent song had stopped dead, the last notes nothing more than a memory of sound. With it had gone Linkle's soft humming, leaving naught but an unnatural stillness. She no longer heard the trees gently rustling in the breeze, nor the spheres of light jingle, nor the press of boot on leaf.

Silence wrapped around her tight and uncaring. The leaves in the trees swayed slightly, but made no noise. She stamped the ground, and only felt the jolt up her leg. The silence wrapped around her tightened, forcing her to listen to the soundless world. She clapped her hands and shouted. No noise drew forth no matter how she strained her vocal chords. She breathed, but heard nothing. In this world of grey fog, even her heart had stopped its erratic thumpin'.

Quiet, quiet. Everything, quiet. Not even a trace of sound.

For a moment, Nan thought she had died. Or turned, maybe, and become Stalfos like in the old tales. She scratched at her face, expecting bone or cloth, but felt only flesh and a few drops of blood where nails had met skin.

She breathed out a sigh. Heard nothing. Took another sharp breath. The only sign of life, the hot air on her hand.

"Linkle?" She tried, though no words came out, not even a peep. "Bazz? Ruu?" Not that they were here. "Anyone?"

Only heat fell from her lips, wisps of hot breath quickly becoming one with the mists.

Before she knew it, she was running blindly, chased by fear. No footsteps sounded. No heart thundered. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. The forest fog grew thicker, greyer, dampening her eyes and running down her cheeks. At last, she stumbled over something solid hidden in the fog. Falling, falling, only catching herself right before her face met the mud-soaked earth. She pushed herself up, arms shaking, tears splattering on the ground.

"I'm a coward," she gasped, the words only ringing in her skull, "I'm a coward. Running from a noiseless fog? Gods. I suck at this." Nan hung her head, not bothering to sigh loudly, certain that the world had lost its sound. "I'm not made out to be a squire or a knight or anything good. Maa… I… I–why can't I just be who I want to be?"

A lonely hoot loosened the hold of silence, echoing forth, long and hollow, filled with sorrow. Soft white wings blew away some of the mists. Stella, unlooked for, uncalled for, fluttered down on top of a low hanging branch, eyes lit with a galaxy's worth of stars. She'd been told by Linkle that meant the owl was blind, and perhaps she was, but Stella always knew where to find her.

Even when Nan was herself lost.

"It's not my choice, is it?" The owl nodded. "But can't I do both?"

Stella flapped her wings once and glided down, landing on her shoulder.

She was a squire, yes, and the Sage of Light. Maybe even a bit of a coward. But a woman wasn't just measured by what she feared.

She was measured by when she stood up. When she decided it was okay to be afraid as long as she acted. That was what a brave knight would do. There were no other sounds in the wood, still, but Nan saw now the stout and stumpy figure in the shadow on a tree stump. In his hand he held a cello.

He had stopped playing.

Anger, hot and bright sparked within her, something ancient, powerful, ancestral. Lifting her hand, she called forth the Light, then spoke with the unwavering voice of the Sage:

"APPEAR!"

The Woods trembled...and everything changed.

The fog dispersed. Leaves, healthy and green, sprouted on branches. Moss grew on bark. Foliage, lush, emerged from the ground. Mushrooms popped out of the earth at the base of many a tree. Bird song, morning bird song, chittered high up in the lofty canopy of leaves. Notably, Stella had left her perch, joining her kin in the branches far above.

These things had always been there. An illusion. All of this had been nothing but shadow and fog.

"I see the gods have chosen wisely after all," said the small figure, now shaped differently than his silhouette. He was still short, but bore the appearance of a boy with a mop of light green hair and wore a leaf-shaped mask of dark green over his face. Like Linkle, he was clad in a green tunic, brown pants, and a pair of sturdy hiking boots.

"Well done, well done, Sage of Light!" he continued, clapping his hands while he spoke in gracious tones. "To you I cede my position."

He offered her a hand like they were friends, but Nan frowned, befuddled again. "Position? Are you a Sage of Light, too?"

The boy chuckled, layered whispers of something indescribably old but cheery in that laugh. "Oh, no. I am nothing so grand!" he said. "My name is Makar, the Sage of Winds, Woods, and Wilderness, and formerly, thanks to you, leader of the sages. It's good to have a Light Sage back."

He punctuated that with a bow, or tried to. Instead, he overextended and fell off his stump, landing flat on his face. A curse, unfitting for a child so young, snuck out. Nan offered him a hand.

The mask blinked at it. The almond shaped cutouts actually shut despite that there was a hint of dark green eyes underneath. Makar lifted his own hand to take her own, then froze, like he hadn't realized it was there.

"I...oh by Farore's green buttocks...why...why...do I have human-shaped hands?" Rocking back on his knees, he stared at his palm in disbelief, then stretched out his fingers, made a slow fist, and stretched each finger again, one by one. "Will I have to learn how to play the cello all over again?" he whispered to himself.

"Ummm," Nan began. That was his greatest concern? She picked up the discarded instrument, feeling its size and weight in her hands. "I think this is more of a violin. For both of us."

After all, he was only a few inches shorter than her. The boy took a shaky breath.

"It is only fair, considering." He recovered the violin and stared at it sadly for a brief moment, then with a loud pop it disappeared into the aether like something made of nothing more than dreams and fairy dust. "After all, you did pass my test!"

"You did that?" She stared, disbelief surely written all over her face. "All of it?" The Lost Woods? The skeletal monsters? Even the poes?

"Yes. No. In part." That clarified absolutely nothing! Nan reached for her sword, partially pulling it out of its sheath. Makar shoved it back down, hand over hers. "Hey. None of that! You're just like he was. Must run in the family. Always gotta reach for the sword, eh? The fog is to protect us. The tree, the children, the blade. I might have enhanced it just a tad."

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. He had not said he hadn't made it originally. The mask smiled, warm and cheerful. That...made it all the more disturbing.

"Don't worry, don't worry," he said, waving a forked-branch that seemed to have coalesced out of thin air before him. The two red berries on top jingled like bells, a few notes of that damn tune ringing forth from them. "We should go and collect your friends!"

"Collect," Nan repeated, dryly.

"Should be fine."

"Great."

"I doubt they are Stalfos," he said, shaking the branch, eerie notes lingering light in the air. "Though that girl…"

"Linkle?"

Dark green eyes stared at her from darkened chasms. "Why did you let that enter these Woods, Sage?"

Nan didn't flinch. "It's Naneth," she corrected pointedly. He didn't deserve her nickname. Makar tilted his...mask. Not his whole head like a normal boy, just his damned mask. "And I want answers."

"After we find them," he said, patting her shoulder. She rolled her hands into fists. Why did he have to be. So. Frustratingly. Vague. Makar reached up to fix his mask back in place with a good yank. "Good Goddess. Well. C'mon, Nan. Let's go get them!"

He whistled again the song of the Woods and the mist rose up around them as though by command, the music completely on tune. On quiet feet, they stepped back into the forest fog, its ancient song, renewed, trailed in their wake.

A/N: Yes, it is that Makar. He who has seen the seas of a world flooded, Hyrule renewed, the earth reformed and time mended, and is, for the moment, the ancient Sage.

Don't say that though. He's a forest "child".