The wind whistled along the red canyon walls encircling a hollowed-out bowl carved into the mountains. There was but one way in, and only those who knew it were permitted to enter.
Joute smiled to himself. He did not look the part, but he was every bit as deserving as his brethren to enter this sacred place. Perhaps more so considering what he brought as an offering to his master.
At the center of the mountain cavity gaped a perfectly circular hole. The moonlight seemed to emphasize its darkness, though Joute had never gazed into it to ascertain its depth. To do so would violate all honor. Instead, he lowered himself until he was prostrate on the ground, his off-centered eyes closed and pressed into the gritty dirt of the canyon floor.
He waited an interminable length of time, but Joute did not complain, not even inwardly to himself. He would prostrate himself for eternity if the master deemed it necessary.
Then, from the depths of the pit boomed a voice of unsurpassed majesty. It shook Joute to his core, and he trembled with the ecstasy that voice brought to his soul.
"WHAT NEWS DO YOU BRING ME, CHILD OF THE CHOSEN?"
Tears sprang from Joute's eyes at being thus addressed. They mingled with the dirt and formed tiny patches of mud, which were in turn ground into his groveling face. He used all of his concentration, however, to keep his response clear for the benefit of his master.
"Oh Great Master of the Chosen Race, I bring thee word of the Hylian Champion!" Joute shouted. Fittingly, his voice sounded weakly pathetic compared to the wondrous knell from the pit. "He is in Hateno Village, where he dares to stand against the might of the Demon King!"
"WHY DID YOU NOT SLAY HIM?"
Dread accompanied the thrill that shot through Joute at the sound of his master's booming tones. He sobbed into the dirt, which was now completely sodden. He ignored the mud oozing into his mouth as he replied.
"Forgive me, Great Master!" Joute howled. "The boy was armed and surrounded by others, including one of the Sheikah dogs whose existence doth insult thine eyes! I thought it best to return and allow thy infinite wisdom to decide how to best accomplish the task!"
Joute's snuffled sobs were the only sound heard for several minutes. He shivered as the cold winds blew about him, but he did not dare move. The mud was now trying to squelch between his eyelids, which were still squeezing out tears.
"YOU ARE FORGIVEN. TELL ME OF THE BOY AND THOSE WITH HIM. TELL ME EVERYTHING."
Joute did. He blabbered into the ground until his voice grew hoarse. He dredged up every detail he could remember, from the time the boy and his two companions entered the inn to when he and Garill had departed the forest outside the village. By the time he was done, his voice was a hoarse whisper echoing inside the canyon.
Another lengthy pause. Then the pit spoke once more.
"YOU HAVE DONE WELL, MY CHILD. CALL YOUR BRETHREN HERE. THEY MUST ALL KNOW WHAT IS TO BE DONE."
Sobbing in gratitude, Joute crawled backwards, leaving a wet trail of tears in the dirt. Once he had retreated a fair distance, he turned around on all fours and bolted back the way he had come.
A silken sigh escaped the depths of the pit.
"I WILL BE KARANLIK."
Garill would have prostrated himself before the bulging sack within Hyrule Castle, but it was not possible. His body was magically arrested, held in place by a power whose caress he felt honored to feel. That same magic prevented tears of ecstasy from leaving his eyes.
He could feel the Demon King searching his mind. Garill tried to open his memories to it, to bare his very soul to his people's god. Images flashed in front of him. The boy. How could a boy hope to defeat the King of Darkness?
YOU DID NOT REMAIN FOR THE BATTLE.
It was not a question. The Demon King knew. It's boar-like form altered to the many-appendaged horror, writhing with wrath. Garill could not respond nor react, though every inch of his body was desperate to debase itself and beg forgiveness. The thought would have to do.
YOU WILL FOLLOW HIM. YOU WILL BE HIS SHADOW. WHEN THE MOMENT ARRIVES, YOU WILL KILL HIM.
Garill collapsed, all of his emotions — fear, worship, tears, everything — pouring out of him in an unintelligible babble. He did not stop blubbering madly even as he departed the main spire, his gibberish voice eerily echoing off the deserted castle walls and flagstones.
Dawn's light filtered through the shaded windows of Impa's hut. She was beside herself with fatigue, but still perfectly balanced atop her mountain of red cushions. As a child, she had always wondered how her equally diminutive father had managed the trick. Now, she did it without thinking.
It had been four days since Link's departure. Four interminably long and inactive days. Despite her not directly contributing at Hateno, Impa felt as though she had battled with spear and sword each and every one of those days. Worrying did that to a woman or man. Usually, a woman handled it better.
Had she put too much faith in the boy? He was, after all, a mere shadow of himself, a fragile eggshell compared to the rock he had once been. Perhaps he had been unready to face such a stern test so soon.
No, she thought to herself. There is no time to teach him to walk. He must run downhill and juggle the fate of Hyrule with him.
Impa trusted the promptings she received from Hylia, though She was certainly selective about them. Perhaps it was Her way of reprimanding her for doing the same with Link.
You chose him, Impa prayed mentally. You trust him. I will trust him.
And she would. As soon as he returned. If he returned.
Then Impa heard them. Hooves. Kakariko's ground was only dirt or grass, but her ears — and eyes — were sharper than a sizzlefin's sting. The rider had arrived in all haste.
Impa unnecessarily straightened herself on the cushions, then chastised herself for doing so. She was becoming as flighty as her granddaughter. It was all the boy's fault. His return had finally set her plans into motion. Having to wait between the first and second steps of those plans, it turned out, was simply torturous.
Footsteps sounded on the wooden stairs outside. Impa timed their arrival at her doors perfectly.
"Enter, Cado!"
The Sheikah captain entered with every inch of grace and formality despite his forced ride during the night. Swiftly closing the double doors behind him, Cado walked up the narrow red carpet before stopping to give the time-honored bow of his people.
"May Hylia bless you, Lady Impa," he said softly, though the Sheikah elder could tell he was only just keeping his voice steady. He was no doubt exhausted. "I thank you for welcoming me here."
"May Hylia bless you, Little Brother," Impa replied kindly. Seeing this faithful brother's effort had all but dispelled her own impatience. "You are welcome here. I am unable to entertain you with food or drink at the moment, but you may share news if you have it."
Cado straightened and stared straight ahead while giving his report.
"The Ganonspawn are defeated, Lady Impa," he said levelly. "A handful of the villagers now rest with Hylia, but Hateno stands virtually untouched. Sir Link is unharmed, as are those of us sent to aid him."
Impa allowed herself the tiniest exhale of relief.
"What more can you tell me of Link and the battle, Little Brother?" she asked.
"A Stalfos led the bokoblins and moblins, Lady Impa," Cado answered with nary a show of surprise nor concern. "Our party arrived to see Sir Link defeat it. Immediately before that, he appeared to be under the Stalfos's thrall. Sir Link recovered and slew the creature."
More good news. Impa had not known a Stalfos was leading the Ganonspawn. A test indeed for the boy, one that no doubt probed him where he was weakest. But a test mercifully passed, it seemed.
"What does he plan to do now?" Impa pressed.
"He will mourn for those who now rest with Hylia," Cado answered, still looking straight ahead. "Sir Link was… affected by their loss. After that, he intends to visit those who reside at the edge of the village. More than that, I do not know."
So the boy still took the death of others personally. This was the knife's edge on which all of Impa's plans danced. Kept in balance, it would be his salvation. Pushed in the wrong direction either way, and everything would come crashing down on her — and Hyrule's — head.
"I thank you and Hylia for the news you have brought me this day," Impa said, returning her attention to Cado. "Go now and rest, Little Brother. You have done as much as was needed and more."
Cado gave another perfectly perpendicular bow, then turned toward the door. As he had five days ago, however, Impa's captain turned to issue a rare query.
"A question if I may, Lady Impa."
Impa once again nodded her approval.
"I misspoke when I last questioned you about the boy," Cado admitted. "As you said, heroes come in shapes and sizes other than our own. Sir Link is proof of that. My question is this: can you forgive me?"
Impa thought back to her own self-doubts that had surfaced moments before Cado's arrival. Internally, she asked the same question of her Goddess. Then she delivered the same answer she felt had been received.
"I forgive you, Little Brother, though there is little enough to forgive," the Sheikah elder said kindly.
Cado gave one last bow, then exited the hut. Impa waited until she heard his footsteps reach the ground, then delicately dismounted from her mound of cushions. Slowly, her aging body made its way toward the stairway to the back of the room.
Something was different about those stairs now. Underneath the first few wooden slats sat a wooden chest. Impa had opened it many times over the last four days. Now, however, she did so with a far lighter heart. She lifted the heavy lid just enough to glimpse its contents. The soft sunlight of the hut played on the sky-blue fabric within.
"Hylia's Champion," Impa murmured, "has awakened."