She was a woman without a name, who could see only the things that danced in the shadows of the Wood. Not even the soil beneath her did she see, only the dark, undulating silhouettes of trees swaying in the misty veil. Her path was heavy with fog, grey and thick with no color but a haunting monochrome. All that reached her ears was a gentle breeze playing that old and broken tune, sad and so, so alone.

She pushed aside a curtain of grey vines, only to find nothing but mist and black, skeletal trees beyond. Mist that swirled and ebbed, spun and twisted. Mist that flowed and wrapped around her legs, forming rivulets at her feet and through the endless trees.

There was nothing but the trees and the mist. There had never been anything else. She had always been lost in the shadows and the fog, the woods unending. An eternity had, has, and would pass in this way.

She was lost.

Lost.

L o s t.

When had she ever been anything else?

The shadow, tree, and mist were all she had ever known. Only lost was, is, and would be home.

A hint of something other hissed past. Then, the monochrome realm broke.

Brilliant verdancy struck against the grey, a lightning bolt of impossibility in the world of mists and shadow trees. It added something new and strange to the world: a single color. A dash of life among the dead. Fear flashed within her, and she fled. Running, running from that flourishing light and that mighty thunder. Words echoed in the woodland, reverberating, though she understood them not.

"She is almost gone. Nearly taken."

She trembled at those words, but ran faster. Lightning shot across the Woods, but her feet outran it. She needed to escape. She deserved to stay here.

Didn't they…could they not understand that?

"Wait! But she looks–"

"Quiet. Quiet. Perhaps…"

The lightning whipped into a whirlwind. It chased after her through the grey woodland. An unrelenting beast, tireless in its pursuit. Bright, green, faster than her feet could carry her. She wanted to flee. She ought to stay lost. But it chased her and caught her in a rush of wind, of life unwanted.

Of life undeserved.

Then she was deposited in a place where the fog had started to fade. The ground was covered in the faintest of colors, each one with its own forgotten name. Only hints of them could she recall. Hints from a life she had barely lived. Green, yellow, brown. She fell to her hands and knees, puffs of mist escaping her mouth as she coughed.

"There you are," said the voice, and she felt, now, a warm hand on her forehead. "Come back, Ruuya, do not stray so far into the shadows."

She whimpered… Her name…

"But…I don't...I can't...please don't make me...he haunts me."

"Do not stay in that haunted place."

Ruuya wept into her arms, burying her face behind them. Vivid red hair cascaded down from her head, escaped from its braided bun. Why wouldn't they listen? Why couldn't they understand?

"I don't want him."

"Come back."

Power, verdant, rushed through her from head to toe. The flesh that had turned to little more than living bone, restored once more. Sinew respun, skin reknit. Life returned, surging through her. Her heart rumbled in her chest. She took a breath, gasping, as though she had never drawn one in her life.

Straining, Ruuya opened her eyes. Heavy, so heavy, as though she had been woken from a long and deep slumber. The last of that haunted woods faded from sight like the memory of haunted fog caught in the morning sun.

Here in the Realm of Light, flowers – yes, that was what they were called – grew in a quiet meadow deep in a vibrant forest. A boy, no more than twelve, stood before her, a large leaf-like mask covering his face.

Then, the mask smiled. Ruuya gasped, backed away, and ran into a pair of sturdy but thin trees. She grabbed at them, blindly. No, not trees. Legs, thick, strong, and slightly slimy yielded slightly under her grip. A warm but small hand took one of her own.

"Damn, your hands are freezing, Ruu."

Her shoulders drooped in relief and recognition. Her memories, her sense of self, returned to her. It was Nan. Nan had found her. From her perch on Nan's shoulder, Stella gave a gentle but concerned coo.

"'Damned' is right," said the boy, he blinked…then the mask's eye slits mimicked the motion. Ruuya took in a ragged breath. Her chest still hurt from her otherworldly journey. Just what was this voe? "Why did you bring it here?"

It. Something bristled within her, angered by that choice of words. I'm no it. How dare it!

She reached for her magic by instinct, but found it muted and strained, only a whisper of power in her fist. It was swept away by a light and calming breeze, hints of green on the wind.

"This, I fear, was my fault, Sage," the figure behind her said. Tilting her head back, she peered up at the Zora. Bazz was covered in cuts, gashes, and bruises, one arm in a makeshift sling of black cloth that must have been made from the remnants of his dark cloak. His armor, too, looked beaten and battered. He looked like a molduga had eaten him then spat him back out after deciding that fish couldn't possibly taste good. He tried for a mild smile, but the slash across his mouth turned it into a sharp scowl instead. "Her master, Lord Gufuu, demanded I bring her with us despite that he knew her mind has suffered from recent strain."

"Mmm mmm mmm," the boy hummed, leaning in and poking her with the thick but short stick he had conjured into his hand. The berries on top rung like bells. "That is an understatement of an understatement, Mister Knight Captain."

Nan muttered something, but Ruuya didn't catch it. The Zora tensed. "...I beg your pardon."

"Getting caught up in the Woods' spell is not as easy as you big folk think!" the boy said with a shake of his green head. "Not anymore, anyway. Had to change it, had to. Too many mortals 'round here now for fine old mischief."

He poked at her again with his stick. Ruuya flinched, then batted it away.

The young voe smiled. "Good. You seem...better." Not well, she noted. Then the small boy gave a deep bow. "Let me introduce myself. I am Makar, Sage of Forest and Wind."

"Sage?" she asked. "But you're a child."

Not that Nan was much older, but she'd inherited that role from her mother in a desperate situation. Maybe the gods just liked making kids bear unreasonably heavy burdens. Fathoming the divine wasn't part of the skillset of desert thieves, however.

The mask grinned.

"...Like-being," she added.

"She's a sharp tack, isn't she?" The mask tilted up so she could see his chin. It was looking up at Bazz; trying to catch his eye but barely able to.

The Zora, instead, scowled.

"But I must ask," he said, the leaf vein above one eye hole rising in a narrow arc. "Why were you three so hasty to enter my Wood?"

"Uh, that's four, Makar," Nan said. "Linkle is still…"

He waved a hand calmly at the other Sage. "She's fine. With the others. Answer the question."

Nan gave him a glare worthy of her mother. The owl on her shoulder joined in, too, its starry eyes haunting in the green gloom.

He backed off, but only slightly. "Please?"

Nan folded her arms, stubborn and childish. This made Bazz sigh at them both. "We are on a mission to find a girl from the Village of Rauru."

"Ah…indeed, indeed."

When more was not forthcoming, the Zora's frown deepened.

"Come," the boy said, waving his stick, the berries merry jingling. "I've got something to show ya."

Makar turned quickly on his heel, and in a flash of green light, disappeared. A few birds twittered in the branches above, unbothered. The three exchanged a look once it was clear the odd child had truly left them in the sun dappled meadow.

"So much for a wise and knowing Sage," Bazz remarked.

"Ugh," Nan said, raising a hand to cover her eyes. "Guess so."

As if on cue, a strong breeze blew back a dense wall of mist, revealing an archway made of thick tree roots and curtained by spindly vines. From the top of the arched roots, Makar looked down at them, hands on his hips.

"Hey!" he shouted, cupping his mouth with both hands. "Are ya slowpokes coming or not?"

Makar disappeared in a whirlwind of green, leaf, and twig. No doubt heading further into the forest.

Ruuya rolled her eyes. She was beginning to think that all wind mages had an overdeveloped sense of drama.

/-/

Impa wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation at hand. By all reports, the Potion Master had sprinted through the gate like a bat from a belfry at dawn. He'd dashed through the halls then shut himself in the potion room, a lock and seal barricading the door.

Then had come the screaming and the demands, words that scared the guards and brought her hither. They couldn't help. Glass shattered, and strange twisting tongues were spoken. Whoever, whatever he was conversing with, no one could hear. But by the man's rantings, he was getting some sort of replies in return, ones that enraged him to a significant degree.

As the royal family's only shadow guard, Impa had foiled and otherwise deterred a number of wall climbers, assassination plots, and would-be thieves that few knew existed. The many trappings she set out might seem absurd for such a time of peace, and indeed, she caught mostly flies and a handful of spiders in her shadows. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

You never knew when you'd find a rat instead.

This disturbance, however, chilled her to the bone. Under her nose, on her watch, an intruder had evaded her senses and magic. The mage had been hounded into the very fortifications of Hyrule Castle itself, and the one responsible had ghosted in, unnoticed and untouched by her detection spells.

The only positive conclusion she had was to break down the door. The soldiers were bashing away with an old battering ram, yet the door only cracked. It was not breaking, a testament to how the castle was built to withstand any sort of invasion. Infiltration, however, was another matter entirely.

A matter she was a master at.

"Stand back," she ordered, motioning for the soldiers to step aside. The ranting within had died down to mere muttering. Metal sang as Impa withdrew her kodachi from the sheath on her back, and in one fluid motion, sliced through the hinges. With a blast of shadow magic, she tore through the seal. It proved surprisingly fragile for such a renown mage. Then she yanked the door open, the bottom scraping along the floor, and darted into the room.

A mess waited within the chamber. Shards of glass laid on the floor, colors splashed on the walls and tiles. Chairs were tipped over, and the thin slit windows smashed open.

Lord Gufuu sat curled up against a shelf, various ingredients spilled around him, from dried berries to bug parts. No threat in sight, Impa went to his side and knelt down, concern knitting her brow.

"The eyes…" he muttered. "The eyes, they…they're everywhere…."

"Lord Gufuu," she said quietly, raising a hand to lay on his shoulder. The rest of her words died on her tongue. An empty socket stared at her from beneath lavender bangs, a strange glowing ember burning deep within.

For a moment, it seemed as though his eye socket had become white as fresh snow. As bone itself. As though... A hand gripped her wrist, its fingers skeletal, creaking with the telltale sign of bone on bone. Impa fell back, blade in one hand, shadows in the other. He lifted his head, hair falling back to reveal a face of half-bone, half-flesh, one melting into the other.

His eyes burned, red as hot coals, brighter than lantern light. Then, he smiled, displaying a mouth filled with too many teeth, each jagged and sharp, old and yellowed.

"You."

He looked past her.

Slowly, she turned.

The shelves were bare behind her. The guards had not followed. No one else was in the room.

"Who do you see, mage?"

He giggled, rising to his feet. "See? See!" The man spun, cackling. Bones rattled with each step. "SEE! They're everywhere. I see them in the walls. In the shelves, in your eye. They…"

He stared at her, manic grin fixed in place, pacing among glass shards and potion puddles. Black blood seeped onto the ground from cuts on his feet.

"The eyes…the eyes." He let out a choked giggle. "Of the Wood are they. They see us. Me. You. Sage of blood, sage of shadow…"

Instinctively, she again lifted her blade. The only person who knew her true role was the King. She hadn't even told…

How was it this stranger knew? What magic did he possess? Most in Hyrule thought the Sheikah extinct, chased away and then slaughtered by the mad king of old. Ruthlessly, despite their years of service to the royal family, they had been murdered. Slaughtered by men until they all but became shadows themselves. It was why the other races had fled the land, or so old tales said.

"Do you see them, woman? The eyes…"

A chill ran up her spine.

"They're here," he whispered.

The mage stopped his pacing, one eye wide as the hollow socket. His grin split his face in two.

"Always. Don't you see?! They do!"

Something in the corner glistened. Impa chanced a glance, without letting the possessed potion master out of her sight.

It dissipated, a puff of light.

Another winked open, in the shadow of the overturned table.

One more eye awoke in the last embers of firelight.

Perhaps she herself was now seeing things, now. Fear could make one do that. She took a breath and steadied her nerves. Still, she was precautious by nature, even downright paranoid. Impa tapped into her own magic, letting it flow. There was always a chance there was something she had overlooked.

Her shadows crept into the corners of the room she did not see. They found no illusions. No threats. No foreign magical residue.

Something moved behind Lord Gufuu. A faint trace of red.

Their eyes locked. Gufuu smirked.

Impa tensed. Her shadows dove into the mage's own. They sensed something, that red thing that lurked in his shadow. From there they wound up to prod the magics surrounding him.

She was immediately repelled in a violent burst of strange, foreign magic. Impa fell to her knees, countless sparks of pain spreading throughout her being, both body and soul. Red chains like heated steel, strange letters in a tongue she did not know held the mage. She'd only caught a glimpse, but that was enough to reveal the truth.

He was no charlatan, after all. No one would bind a liar with such a powerful curse.

"You see it, don't you?" he asked, in a voice laden by apathy. "We see you."

In the shadows, a hundred eyes opened – red on black sclera – staring at her, never blinking.

"It's here," he hissed, his voice layered with several others.

"She's here." His fingers slid against each other with a quiet skeletal clack.

"He's here." The voices ratcheted up to a buzzing, as if aggravated.

The remaining skin on Gufuu's face stretched, his smile becoming impossibly wide. Leaning forward, he proclaimed: "They're here."

The other voices vanished, save one in still silence. "We cannot escape Fate, I fear."

Then Gufuu collapsed like a wisp of flame blown out by a harsh wind. The watching eyes, too, had gone. When she reached his side, however, the frail mage stirred. His skin was whole and unscarred, the bone hidden once more. He blinked once, eyes bright red and bloodshot, but no longer glazed over with possession.

"What do you see, mage?" she asked, instead of fixating upon the miraculous restoration.

Gufuu grunted and lifted his head. Weary, he looked from mess to mess.

"Work," he said, sneering. "What happened here?"

A grey head poked through the open door just then, caught in the corner of her sight. Octavo, the bard? Why was he...

"Not to intrude, Lady Impa," said the young man with a bow. His face had lost all color, as though he too had seen that which haunted the mage. "Is he...are you...well?"

Gufuu tried to rise, but collapsed again as soon as he stood. Impa had barely enough time to catch him before he fell down and hurt himself.

"You," she said, gesturing at the bard and ignoring Gufuu's scowl. "Don't just stand there like a heartless poe, be useful. Fetch some servants to help clean up this mess."

"Of...of course." He bowed again. "As quick as the wind."

/-/

If anyone asked Nan, Ruuya looked like death baked, burnt, and left in the oven too long. Hunched in on herself, she scanned their surroundings with baggy and bright eyes, spear in a fierce but shaky grip. Her gaze leaped around from tree to tree as though she expected a stalfos to jump out of the foliage or a poe to coalesce from mist. Nan had managed to pull Ruuya's loose braids and frizzy curls into a neater bun, but that was all that the woman had allowed before burying herself in the folds of her cloak and taking up her nervous vigil.

Luckily, such monsters had left them be, even as Makar led them into the verdant depths of the Lost Woods, vanishing each time they almost caught up to him. Often, this was followed by a mocking giggle before he would reappear at a new spot, blowing aside mist or vines or some mirage that blocked their way. All the while he poked fun at them from atop his new roost of stumps, branches, roots, or hollow trunks. This 'game' still hadn't come to an end, despite that the sun had reached its zenith and crawled past noon. She would've thought ancient sages were supposed to be old and wise and frail...but this...this…

He made Zelda look mature!

"Hey, hey ya laggards!" Makar called from on top a large hollowed hole in a great oak tree, like the type Stella might sleep in when it was day. The owl had left her to go hunt a squirrel forever ago in the forest maze. He waved at them merrily with his giant stick, the berries on the end chiming a few notes of the song of the Wood. "Over here!"

On their left, the trees blocking their way moved, withdrawing knotted roots and branches so that they might transpass on a leaf-strewn path. Nan huffed, climbing over a root that hadn't had the decency to retreat like the rest. The others found this an easy obstacle to overcome. Both Gerudo and Zora were unfairly tall, easily overstepping the rude roots. If only she could have just an inch from each she wouldn't be so short for a girl of fifteen.

"Is it all that armor slowing you down or your age, Mister Knight Captain?"

He still hadn't explained that title, hints of a past she barely knew. The Forest Sage seemed to enjoy the discomfort that brought, the unspoken questions left hanging and ignored. Such things had normally been put aside in the Dark World, the past left to rot unless willingly doled out. Some hadn't cared to share past how they wound up in Outcast Village. Others would lament out loud the life they left behind. Many wished that past forgotten. Bazz, for as long as Nan had known him, kept to himself and never spoke a word of how he even fell into the Dark World in the first place.

The questions burned back then. They blazed brighter now. She was beginning to understand one essential truth: she really didn't know him.

None of them had.

Bazz replied with a shrug, then took a moment to readjust his makeshift sling. He had refused to take their last red potion, stating that Marin or Linkle might need it when and if they ever found them. She hated that logic, but had relented. Arguing with Bazz was a bit like arguing with a stone wall; both were stubborn, thick, and refused to budge.

"Oh! Then it must be Nan's stubby–"

"I'll show you stubby!" she called, conjuring a ball of light in her hands. It came far more easily now than it had before, when doubts and questions still clogged her mind. "Wait a sec. Haven't we seen this oak before?"

She punctuated that by throwing the ball of light at the boy's head. He disappeared right before it hit, bark and sapwood splintering apart in a burst of magic. Makar reappeared a second later on the bough above their heads, leaning over the edge, leaf-shaped mask tilted to one side.

"No?"

"No?" Nan repeated, clenching her teeth. "Oh gods. You're leading us in circles!"

Makar vanished in a rush of leaves and wind.

A few moments passed. No one spoke. Irritated, Nan began to tap her foot. Bazz took a seat on the great root of the old oak, then leaned back and closed his eyes. Not less than a minute later, Nan swore she heard him snoring. Damn him, she still had questions. Ruuya, frantic, started to search the nearest treetops for their missing guide, a feverish light in her golden eyes.

"Not there," Ruuya muttered, then took a few more steps and pushed aside a curtain of vines. "Not here, either."

She climbed up onto the nearest large and hollowed log. Walking back and forth a few times, the Gerudo finally sighed. "Where the hell are you?"

"Ruu?" Nan asked, concerned. "I don't think this is working."

"It's better than sitting around here, trapped," she snapped, then added in a frail whisper, "I hate this place."

A few birds chirped in the distance, and a wind softly rustled through the leaves. She felt a touch of wild magic in that nascent breeze. A warning, she thought, or perhaps a reminder.

Did they wish to face the Woods again? Could she save them a second time?

No, she knew. Even as a Sage, she didn't think she could win. The Woods knew of her now, and worse, she had little magic left in reserve. What she had done to Makar had all but completely drained her. She'd need a green potion before she dared to cast again.

"I wouldn't say such things in a place like this," the Zora warned. "The Woods are said to have both eyes and ears of their own. They watch us, even now."

"Can't be worse than what I've already suffered." Despite Ruuya's words, the Gerudo tossed a look back at the trees then pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders. "Can it, Captain of the Zora Knights?"

His gaze hardened. "Do not call me that."

Ruuya cocked an eyebrow.

"But it is your title, isn't it?" said the wind in mocking tones. "Or was. Once. Long ago. Never thought we'd see your kind again after the King put flame to our Woods. Nearly killed us all. How've ya been?"

Nan narrowed her gaze. "Makar."

"Eldest's not here," said a breeze.

"He went to speak with Mister Tree," bustled a small gust.

"Asked us to watch you," whispered the wind.

"You're all so mean!" squeaked a gale through the leaves.

"Wait," Nan started. "There's more of you?"

A chorus of "yes's" sounded in the Woods like chittering leaves. Then, without preamble, a small figure toddled out from between the trees. It was in the shape of a small stump but with stubby arms and legs attached. Like Makar, it wore a leaf-shaped mask with dark holes for its eyes and mouth.

"Linder!"

"Don't just show yourself, you doofus!"

"Makar will have our heads."

"It's fine!" the little stump spirit replied. "Only you can see me, right, Miss Sage?"

The Zora and Gerudo exchanged a glance. Nan, catching the hint, gave a nod. "Nice to meet ya, Linder. Lemme guess. Only the pure of heart can see you."

The little stump spirit giggled along with the chorus of wind through leaves. "Noooooo."

Nan hummed, tapping her chin. "Is it because I'm a kid?"

Ruuya groaned behind her as the wind was set off again, chittering and snickering.

"No-ho-ho!" laughed the spirit. It bent over, like a bough in a storm. "Not all can see us. It takes something reeeal special to do more than just hear us."

"What about the bird?" blustered a voice from the Wood.

"She doesn't count!" replied the squeaky gale. "She's a bird!"

Ruuya looked from Nan's shoulder, then to the branches overhead. The owl, somewhere in the canopy above, snorted a hoot. Nan wasn't sure how that even worked.

"I get it." Nan nodded decisively, then folded her arms and leaned down until her nose almost touched the top of his leaf. "It's gotta be…my looks! I'm so pretty!"

"Eek!" The stump spirit jumped back. "Big one's too close! Big one's too–"

"Oh calm down, Linder," Makar said, striding out of the Woods on a... carpet of green leaves. The little stump spirit turned around, then gave an audible gasp, echoed by the other spirits hidden in the Woods. "Hmmm? Does my appearance shock you?"

"You're... you're...ba...ba...ba…"

"Ba?"

"Ba…ba…big!"

"No, no, I'm actually still quite short!" Makar said, his usual cheer returning. His leaf-shaped mask offered Nan a smile. "Believe it or not, me and Linder go far, far back. We're the same age, sprouted the same sea–"

"Got any news?" Nan asked, hands on her hips.

"Yes, yes, I was just getting to that!" he replied with a hearty clap. "The Great Deku Tree has given his blessing. He is most intrigued by you three, a Gerudo, a Zora, and a Sage. Indeed, he insists, in his own words, that Makar bring thee posthaste with haste."

Nan huffed. "Finally!"

"Let's be gone, then," said Bazz, setting off. In three strides he passed Nan and Linder. Nan squawked and started after him as the ancient forest Sage vanished. Ruuya brought up the rear, keeping close to the Zora, eyeing the trees as if they might come alive at any moment and take them by surprise.

"This is the most idiotic place I've ever been," Ruuya spat, her fingers brushing against the hilts of her scimitars. Nan downed a green potion as the Gerudo spoke. "The trees have faces but do not speak. The wind speaks with spirits' voices, but are not the trees? You walk one way and come from another. Even the Deep Desert is not so treacherous."

"Compose yourself, Ruuya," Bazz said, steel gilding his tone. "I can't say I like it much either, but as you have said…"

She nodded, clearly exhausted. "They're hardly children, I take it."

"The title 'Forest Children' has always been a bit of a misnomer," he replied, ignoring the chorus of "hey"s and "says you"s that rung out from between the trees. Nan tried to give these all her best glare, but even she could not see the forest children in the verdant depths of the Wood. "It's only further proof that longevity doesn't beget wisdom, eh?"

The Gerudo smiled. "Then he'd be wise."

Bazz chuckled.

"I heard that!" Makar cried, glaring at the pair, though they were actually speaking of a different pompous windbag. "Well, whatever. May I have your attention, lady and dolts, we have arrived at the Sacred Grove. Let thine eyes feast on what few mortals have ever seen, the holy meadow most pristine."

If one was to ask Nan, the Sacred Grove, despite its name, was rather un-divine. Just more big trees, some flowers and vines, and scattered stump spirits chattering here and there among twisted roots and branches. When the spirits saw them, they stopped to gawk at the mortals that had entered their realm. Some pointed. Others gasped. A few just stared. Only the great roots, as wide as she was tall, sprawling out from the gigantic tree at its center told her this must be a sacred place.

Maybe. Even still, Nan had her doubts. Big old oak trees were just about as common as the color green in this damn old forest. This one was far bigger than the rest, sure, but that just wouldn't cut it.

Then it blinked. Its large brown eyes, far too aware for a being made of wood, watched them in wordless silence behind rigid bark. That gaze grew heavy, as though it peered into their very souls. Ruuya fell to her knees, trembling. Bazz leaned on his spear, as though all his strength had drained from him. And Nan grew stiff, unmoving. Didn't even fidget. She felt then like a girl wearing her mother's robe. Like she was little again, hiding within her mother's skirts as she introduced her to George the Lynel.

Stella, now perched on her shoulder, lifted her head in challenge. Fearless, though she was only a head and a half tall. She gave a defiant hoot.

A deep, almost grandfatherly voice rumbled through the clearing. "I see," began the Tree, "a Sage without wisdom, a Warrior without courage, and a Wayfarer without purpose."

"You speak?" Nan asked.

"A point proven," replied the Tree. She rolled her hands in fists. "It seems Makar has led you here at last. Greetings travelers. I am the Great Deku Tree, Guardian of the Forest. It has been a long time since last visitors have entered this place."

Bazz bowed, about as low as he did for King Hyrule if not lower. "Greetings, Great Deku Tree. It is an honor to be allowed into this sacred place."

"Hum hum," said the tree. "A Zora? Have old ties finally be renewed? Do the rivers of Zora's Domain flow clear again?"

"They… have not," he replied softly. "My people are yet beyond this kingdom, although where, I do not know."

The old tree rumbled. "So Hyrule remains broken then. How unfortunate. If that is the state of the land, then pray tell, what brings you to my Woods, travelers?"

Nan stepped forward. "We're lookin' for someone."

The Tree hummed in reply, the very ground quaking slightly. "The girl Marin?" he asked. "Or perhaps your friend, Linkle?"

"Is she safe?" Bazz asked, casting off his weariness like a man might lay aside a rain laden cloak. "Linkle. She isn't…"

"Hmmm," began the Tree. "Do you think she could succumb to my magic, young one?"

There was a second of hesitance before he answered, "...no."

A grandfatherly smile touched the wooden features of the tree. "I cannot fault you children for thinking, first, of your friend," said the Tree. "Makar. Would you kindly drop your veil?"

The Forest Sage bowed. "Of course," he said. "But be warned, your friend is not well."

With a jingle of his staff, a series of notes filled the air, warm and melancholy. A faint breeze stirred. Slow at first but steady, gently swirling leaves around their feet. It soon whirled past his head and blew back the shadows beneath the Great Deku Tree, revealing a girl garbed in a familiar green tunic sitting on a stump.

"Linkle!" Nan cried, rushing forward.

But the girl didn't look up. She didn't wave at Nan's in greeting. Linkle didn't even seem to recognize her.

Her eyes, once blue and lively, were unfocused, staring at nothing but the final thing the wind unveiled. A sword resting in a pedestal, lit by a single ray of cold sunlight. Moss grew on the platform it stood upon, and yet not a speck of rust and green plant touched the sword itself.

Nan grew still, her legs now heavy. Her chest tightened. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She could not even lift a hand. When her closest friend needed her most…Nan froze.

"Linkle?" Bazz placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. When had the Zora gotten past her? Slowly, the girl looked up and blinked. Tears sparkled on blonde lashes, her eyes bright and bloodshot. "What happened?"

"Cap-Captain…?" Linkle said, voice breaking into sobs. "You're so…"

"Just a lieutenant now, remember?"

She nodded, then looked again at the blade. "She said that …I…I'm not…worthy to wield her…"

"Ah…"

"How can't I be?" Linkle asked. "It's me."

Bazz slightly tightened his grip on his spear, his head-tail fell softly against his back. "Linkle, worthiness…I do not think this is an ultimatum," he said, his voice oddly gentle. Ruuya spared him a glance, then turned her attention back to the hanging branches. "Perhaps she thinks only that you aren't yet ready."

Linkle bit her lips. "But…I want to be more than just…"

"You will be," he said with utmost confidence. "I have faith in you. So do Nan and Ruu and the rest. Even the Sword's Spirit itself does. If she did not, she wouldn't have bothered to speak with you."

She sniffled. Nan took her hand and squeezed it. It was the best she could do at this moment. Wise words were not her forte. But comfort and kindness? She got those.

She would stand by her side even if she didn't know what to say.

"He is correct. The cowl of the hero is not so lightly donned, young one." The Tree shook its boughs like a man might shake his head, depositing leaves all around them. "There is no need to rush off to fulfill your destiny. Ganon has not yet to awaken."

"But," Linkle said, standing. "What if…when that time comes, she still won't have me?"

"Ah," quaked the Tree. "That may be."

Nan's stomach twisted at those words.

"Please. Great Deku Tree, I…"

"A suggestion, if you don't mind," Makar said, rejoining with a quick bow. "Why not prove your mettle, Miss Hero?"

Linkle tilted her head. Nan tried for her best disapproving frown. Didn't they just suggest…

Makar, sitting on an overarching root, gestured at them with his staff. "You guys didn't come here just to get lost, despite that it's fun."

"Fun," Bazz echoed dryly.

"Wouldn't call it that," Ruuya muttered.

"Yes, well, you're both antiques!" He waved his staff at them dismissively. Ruuya rolled her eyes. The Zora's head-tail coiled. "That girl, Marin, is yet lost."

A chilled wind blew in from the north. The berries atop his staff rattled a dark and foreboding tune. Nan shivered, a foul reek of rot came with that wind. A smell she recognized, but could not name. Her stomach twisted further, growing queasy.

"She went looking for something in the Forest of Night. Where the sun does not rise, and an old evil lurks amid the shadows. There, tales say, a silver truffle may be found, riches unheard, or some great treasure. Whatever. Doesn't matter." Makar shrugged. "She came and broke past my wards…but she hasn't left."

"Is she alive?" Linkle asked, one hand on the small crossbow attached to her belt.

"That part of the woodland is hidden from my sight," he answered. "I do not know her Fate."

"Then why in hell…no." Bazz drew in a sharp breath. "We must de–"

"No," Linkle said, looking pointedly at his makeshift sling, then over at Ruuya, yet huddled in her cloak. "You're both hurt. Me and Nan will go. Can you take us there, Sage?"

A small smile bent the corners of his mask's dark mouth slit. Makar rose to his feet. Nan glared at the Sage. But before she could so much as speak, she felt wisps of green wind magic brush through her hair.

"Yes," Makar said.

Then in a great whirlwind, they were gone.

Kandra: some who wander ARE lost. But, don't take everything the Tree says at face value…