The mornings, Ruuya thought, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders, are getting crisper.

A fell sign, if anyone asked her. It was the kind that foretold of a harsh winter. Here and there, she spotted orange or red splattered amongst the green crowned trees. A bit of yellow, too. Autumn had never really touched the wilderness of the Great Desert where she grew up, but in the vast green lands of Hyrule, it came like a firestorm, quickly setting the trees aflame.

She just couldn't understand why the Hyruleans liked it so damn much.

On this chilly morning, two days out from the Lost Woods, the soldiers of the Bazz Brigade seemed in unusually high spirits. This was despite the brisk pace their Lieutenant had set, the gray skies overhead, and the rare raindrops that plopped down from the heavens. A few had pulled up the hoods of their rain cloaks, but most hadn't bothered. No, they seemed absolutely euphoric, chattering relentlessly. Irrational, every last one of them.

"Lacking in common sense," Nan said. Startled slightly, Ruuya's hand tightened around her spear. Jamila, walking beside her, snapped her teeth at the girl. She hadn't even seen Nan approach. The Sage threw up a shield of light and blocked the horse's bite. Jamila promptly glared. "Do you think they like treading through mud, Ruu?"

She blinked at the girl. "Why are you so gloomy?"

"Wellllll," the girl said, shifting with unease. "It's gloomy?"

"Ah huh."

"And I'm the Sage of Light…?"

Ruuya slowed, letting the Brigade get further and further ahead. It didn't truly matter. Neither Viscen nor Bazz had noticed Nan falling back to speak with her, it seemed. Perhaps she could persuade Nan…

"You're acting shifty," Nan said. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you glance around when you think no one is lookin'."

She actually didn't care if anyone noticed. So be it. These Hyruleans all doubtlessly assumed she was just a thief, despite that she officially held the rank of Apprentice to the Potion Master of Hyrule. She even got a hefty purse each month from the Crown.

Most of it went into her travel pack, which was stuffed under her bed while she was in the castle walls. For so long she had only seen green and blue rupees with the occasional red. Now she had plenty of reds along with a couple of purples buried under her spare clothes, a sturdy travel blanket, a fire starting kit, a compass, and several books "borrowed" from the Castle library. She was rich, or far more so than any of her sisters had ever been.

So why should she stay?

"You're thinking of running, aren't you?"

"I…" She studied the countryside for a time. A few stray oxen grazed in an open pasture tended by a redheaded shepherdess in a brown cloak. With her back turned, she almost looked like Marin's twin. Odd that, but Hylians always looked so much alike to her, especially when they had the same shade of hair. "I don't know."

"Liar."

She sighed. "Did Bazz tell you?"

The girl laughed once, an unusually dry sound coming from her. "Nah," she said. "Haven't gotten a chance ta really talk to him since we got back from the Dark Woods."

That was three days ago. They had all been more than happy to leave the Lost Woods and its strange spirits behind. Sure, Makar had apologized and made amends, despite being a Wind Mage, but that didn't mean she relished his company. She'd rather be forced to eat with Vaati and make small talk like nobles at brunch, than see the short Forest Child again.

Ruuya tilted her head slightly to the side. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said, trying for a shrug that was anything but nonchalant. "Think he's avoiding me."

Maybe she could used this momentary distraction to–

"But this is about you, I can take care of my own shit," Nan said. "Promise me you won't leave, least not until we all get back. You gotta say goodbye to Zel good and proper, like."

"The Princess?" she asked. The vehvi was still young enough that she wouldn't remember Ruuya in a few years. "Why?"

Nan's eyes widened. "Because. She looks up ta ya."

Ruuya stopped, stunned. That…but…she was just a thief! And an exile! She was hardly a role model for the future ruler of an entire kingdom!

When Nan noticed she had gotten several feet ahead, she looked back over her shoulder and frowned. For a moment, it felt like she was being judged by Alysse instead. Another blow to her plans. She'd said she'd look after Nan. She'd given her word.

A desert Gerudo did not back down from a promise.

"Alright," she said, dread filling her stomach like a bag full of wet sand. "I'll stay 'til then."

Nan gave her a tight smile. "Thanks!"

She would not avoid him, then. That Gerudo, the one she thought must be Ganondorf, was still in the Castle. They would get there two days too soon, and unless the wind blew from the east and blessed them, the merchants from Gerudo Town would still be present.

Her luck was never that good. Every step felt like her boots were now made of lead and the road had turned to mud in the rain.

Ruuya was doomed.

/-/

"Ah, Lady Ruuya, do you have a moment?" Dragmire gave his fellow Gerudo a short but formal bow. She was travel worn, having just re-entered the Castle after the better part of a fortnite, and likely not amenable to a sit down. Yet, he could not imagine a better time to address her than between duties. "You have my most sincere apologies. I fear that I had startled you the last time we had met, and request for just a moment of your time."

The vai, instead, glanced side to side, like a wounded animal caught in a trap. How very odd she was. He had never experienced such a reaction from a fellow Gerudo before. Certainly disgust in his youth, or even hatred, before he had gained the respect of his kin. This…fear seemed unreasonable.

Certainly this vai had heard of him before? He had been Chieftain, then King, for almost two decades. Had she been living in a cave before she got her apprenticeship? Then how did Lord Gufuu ever find her?

There was something quite odd about that pair. Then again, they did keep strange company. The Zora, that powerful Light magic specialist, and the nursemaid of Princess Zelda; these all seemed to be people she counted as friends. Yet they, too, were oddities, something his people working as staff in the Castle had noticed. Birds of a feather did flock together, as the folk of the Wetlands liked to say.

But this vure had stood out the most.

She swallowed nervously. "I…where's Bazz? Nan?"

"The King wished to speak with him," he said. Alphonus had been more than happy to comply with his request for his own meeting with Lord Gufuu's apprentice. The King had a surprisingly deep soft spot for familiar relations of any kind, it seemed. "The girl, I imagine, is taking care of the Nineteenth Platoon in his absence."

She took a step back, like she would run once more.

Perhaps he was going about this all wrong. Dragmire raised a hand to stop her, hoping to squash her fear. "Again, my apologies. I only wish to ask a few questions. Would you prefer that another accompany us?" he asked. "My mother, Kotake, is here."

She was visibly shaking now, as though his mother's name had, somehow, made things all the worse! But Kotake had long been respected among their folk, a woman well-known to all. Certainly she would not link the current Kotake with the witch of old… He frowned a little. Why would she…?

"Or Lady Impa, perhaps?" he offered. The royal nanny was quite competent and protective–

"Linkle," came the stiff reply.

Dragmire furrowed his brow, trying to recall anyone by such a name. None was forthcoming. "Who?"

"I'll speak with you if you let me bring Linkle along," she said tightly. "She's a member of the Bazz Brigade."

He gave a nod. "If a friend will make you more comfortable in my presence," he said. "I see no reason to refuse. Let us find–"

"Ruu! There you are!"

Ruuya muttered something he didn't quite catch as a young vai jogged down the sizable corridor, the thick rich carpet muffling her footsteps. She waved an arm in the air despite that Ruuya had her back to the blonde, grinning ear-to-ear.

"Oh, ah, you gotta be Mister Dragmire. I'm Linkle, hi!" said the newcomer. She was donned in the familiar green tunic worn by the soldiers of the Nineteenth.

"Linkle," Ruuya said, as if her words were fragile, made of glass. Despite the girl's presence, she did not relax. "You were searching for me?"

"Oh, yeah! I was wanting to know if you had any kind of toughen up potions? Nan said it would help...with…" Linkle looked between them both, her grin falling. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Dragmire shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Not at all, Miss Linkle. Lady Ruuya and I were just discussing a few matters. It appears that you have arrived at a fortuitous moment."

Linkle's grin returned, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Well, that's good to hear. What can I do for you?"

"Lady Ruuya has agreed to answer a few questions for me, but she requested that you accompany us," Dragmire explained. "I see no reason to deny her that request, as it will make her more comfortable."

"Sure thing," Linkle replied, nodding her head. "I'm happy to help out however I can."

Ruuya gave a small nod of agreement, still looking somewhat uneasy. Her shoulders were stiff and squared. "Yes." She jutted her chin down the hall. "Let's go outside. I will need ingredients for your potion, and I have a delivery for Master Gufuu after this. He does not take being late lightly."

Ruuya spun on her heel and set a quick march back down the hallway from where Linkle had came. The butt of Ruuya's spear underneath her trailing cloak nearly tripped the young girl. She caught herself, and Dragmire followed after, falling into step with the young soldier.

They passed banners displaying the royal family emblem and a multitude of doors in quick succession. As old and…experienced as he was, Dragmire knew when someone wanted to cut a conversation with him short, be it through excuses or laconic answers. Or in this instance, insistence on completing a task. He was on a time limit himself, and he could not ask all of the burning questions he sought answers to. Most were as tempting as an oasis, a boon for someone lost and aimless or a treasure waiting to be claimed. He could not afford to be careless with his words.

Ruuya was a secretive vai. At least from what his fellow Gerudo in the Castle had relayed to him. She wore her cloak close to herself, almost like a second skin at times. She slunk around castle guards and staff alike, and was seen as often in the Potions Room as she was in the stables.

They rounded a corner. Her distinctive red hair bloomed from the top of her cloak in a loose bun, a few strands curling around the spear that seemed taller than she was. She was skillful, that was not in question. Although where she had become so skilled…

As they came upon the massive doors leading out to the stables and training fields, he settled upon his choices. "Tell me," he said, not unkindly, as he held a door open for Linkle, "how did a woman from Gerudo Town get an apprenticeship in Hyrule Castle?"

All Gerudo eventually left home to see the greater world and what it had to offer. Most came back, but it was not unheard of for someone to decide to settle down instead, whether that be for a job, a love, or a community.

Ruuya looked over her shoulder and blinked at him. From this angle, with her hair out of the way, he could just make out a single word crudely carved into the spear. Snowdrop. How peculiar. "You... don't know."

"Pardon?"

She shook her head as they gave the soldiers practicing a wide berth. These wore red under their chainmail shirts. "You think...you don't know."

"Were you a nomad?" he asked, stroking his chin. "A shepherdess?"

"Nah, I was a rancher," Linkle interjected, hands behind her head. "Ruu's never said a thing about goats."

"That is because our shepherds raise sheep," he said, and wondered if all the soldiers in her platoon were as prone to interrupt others as her. The Gerudo did say they were mostly commoners, a thing unheard of among the knights. Chosen for merit, not status, and likely because it would upset those whose only prestige came from the gold that lined their pockets. "Or horses. Yours is a splendid mare."

Ruuya took a moment to glare at the youth. They passed soldiers practicing thrust and slash maneuvers against wooden and straw dummies. One dared to looked up, but was immediately reprimanded by a man in steel armor so polished it gleamed silver. A red cape with the emblem of a two-headed rope signified him as one of Duke Arius' personal guards.

"Ja...Jamila says thanks," she said.

"Your horse?"

She shrugged. "Or would."

He sighed as they came upon the stables. Ruuya ducked around a corner and grabbed a plant with a bulbous purple head, before stuffing it into her hip pouch. Ah, armoranth. Dragmire checked his brass pocket watch. A clever device powered by a simple lightning spell carved into its largest gear. His time was nearly up.

"I take it then you were not a shepherdess, either." He wrinkled his forehead. "Then where, Lady Ruuya, do you hail from?"

Linkle, he noticed, was also giving Ruuya a curious look. She didn't know either, he gathered. Quite interesting, it seemed the apprentice wasn't just an enigma to the Castle staff. She was also a mystery to her friends.

"Nowhere," she said, in a voice so small, it barely rose above the early autumn gales. "I come from nowhere."

She seemed to shrink before him, huddling deeper inside the folds of her cloak. "Can you please just leave me be?" she said, her eyes begging him. In them he saw not a shy vai of the desert who preferred the presence of books to people, but a broken woman grasping onto any piece of driftwood she could find in the swift waters of the Gerudo Ravine. Rain was rare in the desert, but when it came upon the gorge, none could escape its wrath. "I don't want to talk about this, Lord Dragmire."

Her voice shattered upon speaking his name.

"Then we will not," he said. "I would not see one of my people moved to such distress–"

She ran off before he could so much as finish. Linkle, standing beside him, shook her head.

"She gets like that sometimes," the girl began. "The Lieutenant says that whatever did happen to her, it left scars and comes out in nightmares. It makes her act in strange ways, sometimes."

"Ah. I see," he said, his frown deepened.

"You're a good man, Mister Dragmire," Linkle said. "But she's good, too. It's not your fault. Just…send a letter, next time. I'll deliver it."

He gave a nod lost in thought, and left for the rooms provided by the Crown for himself and his entourage, conflicted. Perhaps Kotake would know more. His mother was more familiar with the histories of their people than he.

/-/

"Zora, have you never heard of an eclipse before?" Alphonus asked from behind his desk, pouring said unamused Zora a cup of tea. The King seemed very convinced that Bazz could not drink even a sip of wine. That was probably for the best. He hated himself when he drank, but since the red moon's return… "Certainly a one time event is no need for such panic."

Bazz shook his head. "Even you must…"

"This treaty will benefit both Hyrule and the Gerudo," Alphonus said. "It is the next step in undermining what my idiot of an ancestor did to our most valuable allies. Don't you see? All I wish to do is mend the mistakes of the past."

He nodded along, the tea warmed his hands but remained untouched. "A most admirable goal, my liege."

And it was. He knew better than anyone alive what the Mad King had done. The Koroks were nearly burned out, but the other races had suffered as well. The Rito had been threatened with ballistas and fire. The Gerudo had been barred from entering Hyrule proper and confined to the blistering sands. The Gorons had been starved, oaths broken and shattered as caverns were sealed and then sealed. And the Zora had been attacked in the middle of the night with electric arrows and weapons. Had King Sidon not sent out the nightwatch in wider patrols…

"Ah, but?"

His peduncle stiffened slightly. "Do you truly wish to know?"

"A king cannot be fit to rule if he does not trust others enough to critique him," Alphonus said, lacing his fingers before him. "Or so I have heard it said. Impa does like that saying…"

Bazz cleared his throat a little. He hadn't been asked such a thing since… Well, since before the Dark World. A ruler who desired criticism was rare, indeed, but he once knew of three others who welcomed it. All of them had since passed on.

The King considered him with a raised eyebrow. "Please tell me what is on your mind."

Bazz raised his eyes to the symbol of the royal family behind King Alphonus. The Mad King had broken Hyrule. The unity that had carried the Hyruleans past countless threats, both major and small, had been torn asunder. Anyone who could so much as repair a single bridge from that rampage deserved to be lauded and praised. And yet…

"Are you sure, Your Majesty," Bazz asked, bringing his gaze back to the King, "this isn't more about cementing your own legacy than it is righting the wrongs of the past?"

For a time, the man studied Bazz, and to his surprise, Alphonus nodded.

"It is," he said.

At least he was honest.

"What father wants his child to live with a legacy of hate? Of failure? Of shame? How could I pass such a thing onto my daughter?" Alphonus, flushed with anger, had stood. For once, he seemed to hold the same majesty as his ancestors of old. A true king, and not just a man donned in rich robes. "I love her. Surely you understand."

He didn't. He never had the chance to have children. He nearly said something along those lines, but the words died on his tongue.

Bazz realized there was nothing he could say to change the man's mind. Not yet, anyway.

He looked to the side where he had set down his calendar. Two weeks had been struck through with the following weeks filled in with neat, tiny script. A tiny, black crescent moon was stamped on one of the marked out days. "And if it happens again, when no charts predict an eclipse?"

"Then I will respond accordingly," said the King. Then Alphonus deflated, his shoulders drooped and he leaned heavily over his desk. "I have another mission for you."

"So soon?"

They'd only just gotten back. Certainly the King would let them recover first. Linkle and Nan were young and had lives outside of the Troupe. Vaati would certainly be making Ruuya work to the bone making more potions and whatever fell schemes the Potion Master could concoct. And truly, the brigade needed more training…

As it turned out, Bazz had no choice but to agree.

/-/

Ruuya rushed to the nearest door and all but threw herself into the Castle, sack bouncing off her back. Her haste didn't stop there. She ran down the halls, nearly toppling a few unexpecting servants. Got yell at by a guard or two as well. Ruuya didn't stop. She could feel Dragmire's eyes on her back still, even through layers of stone. She swore that man could see her, could find her, no matter how deep into the Castle she fled. No matter where she hid. She felt like she'd been running madly for hours.

Then she finally came to the Potion Room and slammed the door closed behind her. Bottles filled with various things lined the shelves. The scent of floral tea filled the mixing room. Safety bent her back. She slumped against the door and took a deep breath. She'd survived. It wasn't as bad as last time.

Her eyes caught a familiar shade of lavender near the bookshelves. Vaati sat in a plush chair, a large tome in his hands and a thick blanket over his legs. His feet sat by the crackling fire. He almost looked relaxed, the edge of his lips curling up without malice or mockery.

It was funny how entering the Potion Room was like coming home. Her shelter in the desert storm, indeed.

After a few more seconds, the voe finally deigned to glance up. "Thank the gods you're back!" Vaati said, throwing off his blankets. "These last two weeks have been terrible. I was attacked in my own home by cowards. I nearly died."

Ruuya folded her arms, doing her best to regain her composure. "Got sick again, eh?"

The self-important mage huffed. "Just like you not to care about your betters," he muttered, placing a piece of paper in the tome to hold his place. "I send you away for your own safety, and this is the thanks I get…Bah."

She dumped the mushrooms that Marin and the Koroks had provided her on the long table in the center of the potion room. A truffle rolled off the pile, but Ruuya caught it before it hit the floor and placed it on top of the horde of rare shrooms.

His eyes went wide, his threat forgotten. "Hearty Truffles?"

Vaati picked one of the mushrooms up and examined its odd, round shape and tiny holes. When Makar had called it a mushroom, neither Ruuya nor Nan had believed him, but he had promised with familiar gusto that any crafter worth their mettle would be able to use it. A gift he had called it, and as long as they paid Marin to hunt and deliver them, he promised to send them more.

As an apology, he had said. A part of Makar had felt some measure of guilt for what he had done. Some Wind Mages did have a kind bone in their bodies it seemed, just not Vaati.

"You're in luck," she said. "We have a supplier. Ah. What are these used for, anyway?"

He unsheathed his fangs in a wicked grin. "Much," he said, but did not elaborate. "But first, they need to be pickled and stored."

"Two hands–"

"By you, of course," he said. Well aware that such a task would keep her up into the wee hours of the morning given it was already late in the afternoon. "I, instead, must take a nap. Doctor's orders. Nearly died, you know."

Ruuya cursed him once he had left, but despite herself, she got to work. She still wanted to know what these mushrooms did.

It was yet another reason she stayed. Another excuse. She could always leave once he showed her what these truffles could do.

/-/

Nan, frankly, was pissed, like Vaati after a long nap. Night had fallen thick and heavy by the time she'd caught a chance to fetch dinner. The castle cooks had only let her take two biscuits and a mug of stew. She'd had to all but beg for the latter and it had tasted little better than the leftover dregs of dish soap in the big washing bins. She'd dumped that out in the little garden outside the barracks, and the rats, usually partial to whatever grub you tossed them, scurried into the bushes instead.

At least the rain had stopped, and the clouds had cleared, giving way to starlit skies and damp cobblestone-paths that shimmered silver in the cool moonlight. Only a sliver of moon rose high above the barracks that night, sending a shiver down Nan's spine. This was just like she'd fear.

Hadn't it been full and red only a few days ago?

It had looked like the moon from the Dark World. Bright red, full of hatred, a thing that brought the monsters back from the dead each night. It was the last thing she remembered from the Dark Woods, before unconsciousness had fully taken her. Linkle had confirmed it. Ruuya had said she'd seen red moonlight. The servants and soldiers, when she asked, said it was just an eclipse. An ill omen, but nothing to warrant such fright. No one in the Castle had the answers she sought, however.

But she knew who might.

He'd been avoiding her for the last three days.

The barracks loomed before her, a dark but squat monolith framed by cold moonlight. A few unshuttered windows on the second floor glowed in the night, orange and dim. Most of those belonged to the knights. One, looking over the murky moat, belonged to him. A gift from the King, Bazz had once called it, his voice darkening as it took on a sardonic tone. Nan took a breath. Part of her had hoped he'd gone home. Or that she hadn't noticed.

Alright. The truth was, she'd actually been the one avoiding him.

She really didn't want to go in. She didn't want to know. If that red moon rose in the Realm of Light, would the Dark World soon follow? Would she have to live that nightmare again?

I could go. Run. Just like Ruu.

That…no. She was no hypocrite. She refused. Nan threw open the door and walked in. Warm firelight greeted her. A few soldiers sitting around the great stone hearth in the common room glanced her way. One, Gus, waved at her drunkenly from a patch speckled couch. Nan only greeted them with a brief nod.

When she reached his office the door stood slightly ajar, she heard a pair of low voices spilling out into the hall. One melodious but deep. That would be Bazz. The other…hissed out his words.

"...two weeks?" Anger snaked from Vaati's throat. "I am the lord, you are my guardsman. A mere grunt. Little better than a drudge. Remember that the next time you agree to such things. What does the King think he is doing? He should have asked me before demanding that you–and, worse, I–go on some foolhardy mission to the old Domain for the Crown!"

"We need Naneth, not you. What can you even do these days, create a light breeze with your cape? Have Ruuya perform magic in your stead? It was merely a request that you participate in this outing, Lord Gufuu, not a requirement."

"You damn well know it is!" the mage snapped. "Bah. Fine. Cleanse it, indeed. Mark my words, Bazz, you will owe me."

Bazz gave a heavy sigh. "I am well aware."

"Excellent," Vaati said, a deadly snare in his voice. "A debt I shall not forget. Farewell."

Like a great gust blowing back a puff of smoke, Vaati rushed from the office and slammed the door against the wall next to him. His cape whirred out in his wake as he sped past Nan, who lurked in the shadows cast by the candelabrum attached to the stone walls. His eyes never so much as glanced in her direction. Then, right at the edge of the nearest staircase, he stopped.

"Speak some sense into that fish, girl," he said, back still to Nan. "Taking this position has made our old village captain too big for his breeches."

"He ain't a fish."

Vaati shot her a vicious smirk. "Shark, then."

If he'd been anyone else, Nan would have decked him in the face and bloodied that perfectly straight nose. Break it, hopefully. She caught her right fist in her free hand before she could vanish the thought. Vaati raised an eyebrow, and Nan settled for a fierce glare instead. Alysse would've been proud.

"I only jest." Vaati gave a slight, careless shrug of the shoulders. "Heh."

Then the wind mage tramped down the stairs, muttering petty threats under his breath. A few insults, promises to turn her into a bunny and Bazz into a bass. Ruuya would join them too, as a buzzard. Her friends would become her snacks. She wondered briefly what the Gerudo had done to provoke his ire.

"I have always wondered, could he?"

Nan nearly jumped at that question. She hadn't known the Zora was there, but found him looming in the doorway to his office, a blanket thrown over his wide frame like an ill-fitting shawl.

"Huh?" came the very sagely reply.

"If he still had magic, could he truly transform us into those things?" he asked. "I've never met a mage with such powers. Always thought that they were merely based upon rumors spread by humans who had little experience with magic outside of feast days. Yet rumors like those often have a seed of truth in them. So, could he? Are his threats legitimate?"

Nan frowned. "Have you been drinking?"

He considered her in silence. In one hand, he held an uncorked bottle of wine. With the other, he took the corner of the cloth that hung from his shoulders but quickly let his hand drop to his side. It was too late to hide it, anyway. Even without damning proof, Nan had known of him in the Dark World.

She knew who he had been.

The town drunk. Little more than a specter that frequented Outcast Tavern from dusk to dusk. Pitied, broken, a man in shambles. They had not known that the shark-shaped man was not human like the rest of them. They hadn't cared. He was just one more damned soul among many. Another fool abandoned by the gods. Such was the way of the Dark World. Not once had they bothered to really speak to him. None had bothered so much as to ask why. They, bluntly, hadn't cared. His past hadn't mattered to them.

"...I'm sorry," Bazz said, and offered her a tissue. She hadn't even realized. No. She had no right to cry. Nan wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. "I won't–"

Nan hugged him. He didn't return it. Instead, he stood there stiff and unmoving as a column of stone in an old and dusty ruin. Until, at last, she felt cold hard tears spattered on her head.

"No," she said. "I'm sorry."

He placed a fatherly hand on shoulder. It was surprisingly steady. Perhaps he hadn't drunk as much as she'd thought. But she sensed the telltale chill that identified that he had used a wave of water magic, as well. It had healed him, washing the worst of the toxins away, but left him with little magic to spare. Likely, it wasn't the first such spell he had used that night.

"Naneth, you have no need to apologize," he said. "This is not your fault, but mine. You are not to blame for what had happened to me nor how I am now."

"But I didn't care," she argued. "None of us did."

"You were a child."

"Doesn't matter." Nan took a step back and shook her head. "All I could think about was answers. Getting them. Fearing them. Avoiding them. Never thought 'bout anyone other than me…and I'm really really sorry."

"Ah..."

Nan sniffled. "I've been a really bad friend."

"...as have I. So, I too, must beg your forgiveness."

He drew the blanket tight around his shoulders, his back bending slightly beneath its weight. All this made him seem far older than…usual. Despite age and exhaustion, Bazz flashed her an almost boyish smile, ruined by his pointy teeth.

"It seems we are at an impasse of apologies."

She gave an uncertain tearful laugh.

"What answers do you seek?" he asked.

She took a breath. "All of them," she said. This made the Zora snort. They entered his office. Nan had flopped down in one of the chairs in front of the small hearth, and stared quietly at the small fire yet burning within. "But. I guess…"

Her words faded. She did have so many questions, but Nan found she didn't know how to ask a single one.

"Start at the beginning."

"It's a long tale," he said, standing behind the other chair. He handed her a mug of something hot. Cocoa, just like Ma used to give her when she told her stories. Old tales of Hyrule and the Realm of Light. "Are you certain…"

She took a sip. "Better get ta blabbing then."

The Zora gave a laugh, then told his tale.