It took all of Brigo and Dorian's persuasive powers to convince Link they should not leave for Mount Lanayru until the following morning.
"This is no ruddy spring outing on Ovli Plain," the patrolman admonished none too politically. "I mehself 'ave never climbed Lanayru, an' I'm not about to rush into it ill-prepared."
"The altitude will be as bad as the cold, Master Link," the Sheikah added earnestly. "I have a remedy or two that will aid the journey, but I will need the rest of the day to prepare them."
And then there was Purah, ticking a small index finger in Link's direction in a way that reminded him just how young and inexperienced he was compared to her, no matter that she looked fifteen years her junior.
"You'll do Zelda no good dying on Mount Lanayru just because you weren't willing to wait half a day to do this right, Linky!" she squeaked. "Listen to your friends! I must say, it's nice to see you have some!"
That curious comment did nothing for Link's impatience, but even he could see the wisdom in his companions' advice. Reluctantly, he bid the director and her assistant farewell for the day.
"Oh don't worry, we'll see you off tomorrow morning in the Retsam Forest below," Purah told him cheerfully. "You know, that group of trees you thinned out so ruthlessly before the battle? Yes, I'm sure you know those are my trees. Seeing as how they helped you save the village and all that, I guess I can forgive you. Anyway, that's near enough where you'll start up Lanayru. See you then, Linky!"
Still dubious over everyone's willingness to put off his journey another day, Link nonetheless followed his friends back to the village just as the sun began descending from its midday zenith. The sky was completely cloudless. Between that and the peacefully magnificent view of the village from the Tech Lab's hilltop, the trio was immediately cheered after spending the morning and previous evening inside the cluttered Sheikah abode.
That feeling increased as they entered the main part of the village. The majority of battle-related repairs appeared to be complete, and the villagers were consequently in a very social and jolly mood. The sight of their three heroes together gave that mood a focal point, and it seemed everyone wanted to hail the trio if not personally shake each of them by the hand.
Between mourning the dead and journeying to the Sheikah tower, this was Link's first exposure to the praise of those he had willingly defended just three days ago. It was both uncomfortable and heartwarming to the young swordsman. He did not feel deserving of adulation for something he felt was the duty to which he was already bound. At the same time, this people's open gratitude directly assailed the guilt he had heaped upon himself since awakening on the Great Plateau. It felt warm and filling compared to the unforgiving cold in which he had wrapped himself.
Dorian was nearly as awkward in receiving such profuse thanks as Link, but he managed to do so with as much dignity and reserved kindness as his people would have expected of him. Brigo more made up for his friends, loudly proclaiming his deeds as "nothing" while managing to mention one or two incredible specifics in the same breath.
"Think nothin' of it, lassie!" he loudly replied to an especially attractive farm girl. "I'd go toe-to-toe with a pair o' moblins every day and twice tomorrow if it meant yeh bein' safe from their gapin' jaws an' spiked clubs!"
Brigo's antics only served to slow them down while attracting even more attention, until it seemed the entire village was craning to get a look at the three of them. Link was beginning to wonder whether their preparations would indeed be complete today when Reede shouldered his way through the throng. The village head came prepared with a small gong, which he held aloft on a string, and a mallet. He struck the instrument several times until the hubbub subsided.
"Everyone! Everyone!" Reede bellowed. "You are indeed right to honor those who so willingly came to our aid!" He paused to allow the cheer that met his words. "Now it is our turn to aid them. Unfortunately, our heroes will be leaving us on the morrow. With that being said, I think it is only fitting we send them off with hearts and bellies full. Tonight, we will have a feast in their honor!"
A roar greeted the village head's announcement. Men and women scattered to make preparations, their little ones either scampering eagerly to help or frantically trying to escape the sudden deluge of last-minute tasks being heaped upon them. In the midst of all the activity, Link looked questioningly at the bearded man.
"How did you know we were leaving?" he asked wonderingly..
Reede smiled knowingly. "Call it a village head's intuition," he quipped before adding more seriously, "You are men of action, only now returned from a secret meeting with secretive people. Though you are welcome here always, I would be foolish to think you were not needed elsewhere. You will not, however, leave without the gratitude you deserve."
Each of the trio replied in his own way. Dorian issued the perpendicular bow of his people. Brigo clapped his hands, his eyes glowing at the thought of so much food and praise in one sitting. Link, however, simply returned Reede's smile with his own, as well as a firm grasping of the village head's forearm.
"You are a wise man," Link said quietly, "but more importantly, a good one. It will be our honor to remain here one night more."
The rest of that day made Link wonder whether, even if he could have remembered, he had ever experienced such happiness around him. Each villager seemed intent on contributing whatever his or her expertise was to the feast, and they were eager to give Link a sneak preview of their offerings.
"Sir Link!" cried one village wife. "Have a taste of these stuffed peppers! No better spice flavor in all of the Necluda!"
He had no sooner finished sampling that than when an elderly villager hailed him from across the path.
"I say, Sir Link!" he warbled. "My fried wild greens will put a glint in your eye and strength in your body! You'll need them for more heroic deeds that surely await you!"
Even a small girl child hurried up to him, wildly waving an overly large spoon toward his face.
"Sir Link! Sir Link!" she squeaked. "You taste my soup, okay? It yummy!"
How could he refuse? Allowing the girl to lead him to her house nearby, Link was forced to admit that children held a special place in his heart. He remembered Sagessa's children, how their fearful gazes had fueled his desire to aid Hateno as quickly as possible. Now they and these children could lead normal lives once more, free from the fear that had gripped this haven of peace.
The pigtailed little girl was positively beaming when she introduced an embarrassed Link to her parents. They were just as effusive in their own welcome, however, jointly echoing their daughter's plea to sample the contents of a large, steep pot simmering over the fire behind their home.
Link obliged, and was immediately glad he had. The meaty stew was delicious. He thanked them profusely before leaving as the girl proudly gushed, "See? I told you Sir Link would like my soup!"
Back on the main village path, Link sought out the ever-flamboyant Sayge. He wasn't hard to find. His home, as it turned out, was really the town shop for odds and ends since those were his passion. The would-be inventor welcomed Link with a magnificent bow of his red-haired head.
"Master Link!" he cried gallantly. "It is so good to see you again! I trust you noticed that the crossbows remain mounted at the village entrance, and will remain so as long as this village stands!"
"That is good," Link replied sincerely. "They served your village well, Master Sayge, though I pray to Hylia they are not needed again."
The craftsman nodded agreeably. "Oh yes, of course. Now then, how may I be of service to you this day?"
Link surveyed the inside of the store, which was nearly as cluttered as Purah's tech lab. Unique fishing poles sprouted from a basket in one corner. Shelves full of metal bits of varying shapes and sizes dominated one wall. A contraption that seemed to do nothing but emit puffs of smoke that immediately disappeared squatted in the middle of the room.
It was the far wall that held Link's attention. Displayed on a variety of poles, hooks or simply laying on the floor were mismatched pieces of weaponry and armor. One battered breastplate bore what Link recognized as Hyrule's sigil: a pair of outspread wings, within which was nestled a pyramid of three triangles.
The weapons were more recent additions. Most were the homemade spears the village had used to defend itself just days before. One or two rusted swords were in evidence, as was a mace head with no handle. Only the wooden bows were of fine quality, having been crafted by villagers who took pride in using them for hunting and gamesmanship.
Link was in desperate need of both a blade and a bow. His own sword had been destroyed in the recent battle, while his bow was a less-than-sturdy prize won from a slain bokoblin at the Great Plateau.
"I need your best bow, Master Sayge," Link said, gesturing to the collection. "And a quiver-full of arrows if there's any to be had after the battle."
The enthusiastic craftsman darted over to the row of bows leaning haphazardly against the wall. His long, deft fingers hovered over a few of them briefly before selecting one of the larger editions. Stringing it deftly, he tested its pull before nodding in satisfaction and handing it to Link for inspection.
"This one it must be, Sir Link!" Sayge declared. "I believe young Thadd crafted this, and you'll find few indeed with more of a knack for the bow and shaft than that lad! As for the arrows, give me but a moment to fetch some from Master Pruce!"
Link nodded gratefully as the red-haired man scurried out. Testing the bow himself, he could not help but agree with Sayge. It was finely built indeed, and would provide far more range than the one with which he had made do.
He frowned, however, at the thought of beginning his journey without a suitable sword. Link had caught himself reaching for a hilt over his shoulder more than once the last few days. Finding nothing had only left him feeling ill at ease. After what Purah had shared, he was beginning to understand why.
The Sword That Seals The Darkness. Where was it now? And would it still accept him as the one to wield it? Purah had spoken of the sword as though it could think and react of its own accord. Link wondered how such a thing could be possible, and how the truth of it would manifest itself — if he was ever lucky enough to find it.
"I thought I would find you here, Master Link."
Link turned to see Dorian enter the store. He had discarded the leather breastplate with its red eye sigil in favor of the long-sleeved, cream coat and billowing pants Link had seen other Sheikah wear in casual settings.
Dorian looked at the ill-assorted collection of weapons and shook his head. "I should have asked Cado to leave behind a full set for you," he said with an apologetic look. "Given what you had done, he might have been willing to overlook the need for ceremony."
Link frowned in puzzlement. "What do you mean, Dorian?"
The young Sheikah nodded toward Link's right shoulder. "Missing a sword is as bad as missing your memories, isn't it?" he asked knowingly. "I told you, your story is known among our people. If you are truly one with a blade — and everything I've seen for myself says you are — then it is only logical you would feel less than whole without one."
Then, without segue or further explanation, Dorian strode forward, knelt, and removed from within his coat one of his sheathed Sheikah swords. It was the shorter of the two Link had seen him wield, though still longer than the basic blade he had taken from the Ganonspawn at the plateau. Like its sheath, the weapon sported a natural curve that hinted at a razor-sharp edge.
Link looked down dubiously at his friend.
"Dorian, I have no right to your blade simply because mine was lost in battle," he said kindly. "I will make do with what I can find."
To his surprise, the usually accommodating young Sheikah shook his head stubbornly.
"You risked your life and gave your sword on behalf of these people," Dorian insisted. "They cannot repay you with a suitable weapon, but I can. Please, Sir Link, allow me the honor of arming the hero who would turn back the Calamity's coming, at least until you wield the Sword That Seals The Darkness once again."
Taken aback by the gesture, Link felt he could only accept Dorian's offer. He took the sheathed weapon from the Sheikah's hands, then bowed his head in a token of gratitude.
"Once again, you do your people proud, Dorian," Link said in a low voice. "Should I need to wield this blade, your honor will fight with me."
The young Sheikah blinked his eyes very rapidly at this. Any further show of emotion, however, was severed at the appearance of Sayge. The bemused craftsman was clearly unsure why Link would be holding a sheathed sword in front of a kneeling Sheikah in his shop.
"Er, shall I leave, Sir Link?" the craftsman asked with uncertainty.
"No, no, Master Sayge," Link answered rather more loudly than intended. The old him surely knew how to act in such settings. That thought reminded him of the craftsman's errand. "Ah, are those the arrows? Excellent. If they are half as good as this bow you recommended, I shall be well prepared indeed."
The red-haired Hatenoan glowed at the praise while handing over a bundle of iron-tipped arrows which Link promptly placed in the mostly empty quiver at his side. He wanted to show an appropriate amount of reluctance for Dorian's sake, but it did feel good when he secured the sheathed Sheikah blade to the sword belt crossing his back.
Link was in such a fine mood over his new sword and bow, it wasn't until he left the store that he remembered that night's feast. The sun was already well on its way to the western horizon, with the distant Dueling Peaks rearing upward in an effort to meet it. Villagers waved happily to him, most of them on their way to the center clearing in front of the inn.
Link joined the stream of people, his heart lifting at their infectious mood. Wives and husbands held hands while children skipped ahead. Little girls, like their mothers, wore flowers woven into their hair. The boys were clearly wearing the best shirt and trousers they owned, but many were already dirty from escaping their parents' watchful eyes long enough to play.
The scene at the clearing was nothing less than festive. Colorful arrays of flowers adorned the tables and windows of the nearby inn, from which villagers carried platter after platter of food. The overall aroma set Link's mouth watering furiously. With a pang, he realized this would be his last good meal in Hateno.
It seemed every table in the village had been recruited to hold the feast's attendants and entrees. Simmering soups, various vegetables and massive meats dominated every surface save the bare minimum needed for individual plates.
To Link's amazement, his appearance was greeted by a mighty cheer from everyone in attendance. Even those carrying food stopped to vocally add their welcome.
Unsure as to whether they expected more or less, Link politely raised a hand in acknowledgement. Then he saw Brigo and Reede motioning for him to join them at the head table, where two empty seats were waiting for him and Dorian.
Through a small sea of back-clapping and hand-shaking, the pair made its way to the front. When they arrived, Reede greeted them warmly. While embracing Link, the village head said in a low voice, "You have no need of weapons this night, Master Link. Enjoy the peace you have helped this village earn."
Link did not hesitate to remove his sword belt, bow and quiver and set them on the ground and out of sight. He immediately felt lighter than he could remember, a combination of his lack of gear and the general atmosphere. The village torches were lit in advance of the setting sun, enhancing the joyous air of the evening.
Reede stood and rose his hands the air, and an immediate hush fell over the populace. Even the normally impatient youth paid rapt attention to their village head and the "heroes" sitting on either side of him.
"My friends," Reede began in a loud but warm voice for all to hear, "it is with great pleasure that I welcome you to this splendid occasion. I will not say much so that we may enjoy the fare before us. I remind you of only this: we are here to celebrate the deeds of those who aided us in our darkest hour. To Master Link, Master Brigo, and Master Dorian, we dedicate this feast and offer our thanks, for without them, we would not be here."
Heartfelt rounds of "hear hear" and "huzzah" rolled forth at Reede's words. He allowed them to continue for a moment before requesting silence once again.
"I will delay our meal only long enough to allow our guests to speak should they so wish."
Heads craned to see if any of them would oblige. Brigo stood first.
"I do no be one fer speech-makin', but I'll say this," the patrolman declared, "you lot can feast as well as you can fight, an' that's a fact!"
An appreciative cheer rose at Brigo's compliments, stopping only when Dorian stood next.
"I am not a leader among my people," the Sheikah said humbly, "but I feel safe in saying we consider Hateno one of the most important links to Hyrule's past and future. It was no less than our duty to defend you from the same forces that failed to conquer this place a century ago. You are truly a thorn in the Calamity's hoof, Hateno."
A mighty roar rose at this. Link was momentarily distracted from his own thoughts. A thorn in the Calamity's hoof? He would have to ask Dorian what that meant.
All eyes, however, were now turned to the one who had yet to speak. Feeling it would seem odd or even rude if he did not say anything, Link stood. The firelight played off his blue eyes, the sharp features of his face standing out in the torchlit dusk. Then, the feelings of the last few days poured out in a few simple words.
"The tables here are full," Link said just loudly enough to be heard, but soft enough to make it an effort worth making. "They do not reflect the absence of those who are no longer with us."
Link's eyes blazed with emotion, his arm raised and pointing to his right — north, in the direction of the seventeen newly dug graves. His eyes found the grieving mother. Her face shone with a combination of pride and tears.
"Those who fell — and those of you who fought and lived — were and are as brave as me and my friends. Perhaps more, for you fought not with knowledge or battle lust, but with a desire to defend that which you hold most dear. I am grateful this village still lives, but I myself honor those who do not. Remember them this night and know this — their deeds will not be forgotten, nor their lives unavenged."
Heavy silence greeted Link's words, interrupted only by the quiet sobbing of those most touched by them. One by one, each villager raised a cup, pint or glass In Link's direction. He raised his own and turned to face north.
"To those not with us," Link said almost too quietly to hear. The rest of the villagers, however, drank with him.
Then the feast began.
Link thought he might never experience such happiness as this. Good food and better company fed his body and spirit until both were filled to overflowing. Those younger and unaffected from their meals danced in the clearing around which the tables formed three sides of a square.
Brigo had already taken two turns at a jig, including one with the pretty inn hostess that had so efficiently turned his flirtations into frustrations a few days before. It appeared a second chance had done the patrolman no favors. His post-dance advances produced only a laugh and an admonishing finger, leaving Brigo to return somewhat huffily to the table for a third round of food.
Link laughed until he noticed that Dorian, who had been enjoying himself immensely throughout the feast, had narrowed eyes focused directly at the girl. He nudged his friend with an elbow.
"I say, Dorian, are you growing protective of Brig's feelings?" Link joked. "Give her credit for seeing our friend's wiles for what they are."
The young Sheikah, however, remained serious and murmured in reply, "It's not her, Sir Link. Behind her. Those two who left before the battle — Joute and Garill? — are back. They're at the far table. Their plates are full but they're not eating, and they're sneaking looks at us every chance they get."
Link quickly looked up and saw that his friend was right. At the furthest end of the side table sat a pair of men he had not seen since first arriving in Hateno. One sported yellowish hair and a beard that left his upper lip bare. The other was older, his hair grey and skin somewhat gaunt against his sharp cheekbones. The two bore one striking similarity: both their eyes were dull brown and off-center on their faces, as though placed there by a lazy doll maker. Link and his companions had met the pair very briefly immediately after coming to Hateno. They had supposedly been helping the village prepare itself for battle, only to leave the night before it began. Dorian had been especially suspicious of them, and Link scarcely less so.
No one was making an effort to speak with the two visitors, who were indeed ignoring plates heaped with food. Every so often, Link saw them glance in his direction, then quickly move their gaze along in an effort to seem natural.
On their next visual pass, however, the yellow-haired one nudged his companion and nodded in Link's direction. The elder of the pair, Joute, shook his head, but Garill appeared to argue his point. Finally, the latter rose from his place at the table and walked around to where Link and the others were seated.
Before Garill came into plain view, Link quietly retrieved his short Sheikah sword and placed it beside him on the bench, opposite the direction from which the odd man approached. Though he did not appear to be armed, Link was once again seized with the irrational impression that the Garill wished him harm, and would seize an opportunity to do so in an instant. He could not explain it, but there it was.
Brigo had stirred from his failed flirtations enough to also note Garill's approach. He joined his friends in suspiciously eyeing the newcomer. Like Link and Dorian, the patrolman had been none too impressed with the travelers after their first meeting.
Garill sauntered up to their portion of the bench, but allowed a fair distance to remain between him and Link's company — close enough to talk, but far enough to stay out of reach, Link thought suddenly.
Reede seemed to sense the quiet acrimony between the two parties and strove to immediately soothe the underlying tension.
"Ah, Master Garill," the village head greeted politely, if not warmly. Link suspected Reede had also not appreciated the pair's flight on the eve of battle. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?'
Brigo appeared on the verge of adding his own commentary, but kept his wit to himself at a glance from Link. Garill, however, simply delivered the smirk Link had found so sickening at their first meeting.
"We come to honor Hateno's heroes, of course," he simpered. "Word has reached us that a great victory was won over the Ganonspawn. Of course, we should have known, having run into several bands of them fleeing west the last couple of days."
"Did yeh run from those lots too, then?" Brigo demanded. Clearly, his patience with the offputting young man had been thin to begin with.
Garill's sarcastic attempt at a smile simply widened. "Quite the opposite, stableboy," he taunted. "We finished the work you started. None of those scary bokoblins remain to trouble your heads further."
Brigo stood upright, reared to his full and impressive height. Link thought Garill would have been wise to be cowed. He was not. His one-sided smile seemed to invite the patrolman to cross the invisible line between them. Perhaps luckily for the traveler, Dorian's words intervened.
"You spin quite a tale," the young Sheikah said without making eye contact. Link saw Dorian was actually twirling his cup in his hand and giving it his full visual attention. "I searched beyond the woods and well into Ovli Plain, and saw no trace of the Ganonspawn, living or dead."
Dorian's eyes remained focused on the nondescript cup, but he suddenly ceased twirling it and his voice continued with an added sharpness. "They were as gone as a corpse swallowed by the Gerudo sands."
Link had no idea what Dorian meant by this and neither, apparently, did Brigo or Reede. Garill, however, tensed immediately, his attention suddenly and completely focused on the Sheikah. To the casual passerby, Dorian appeared completely nonchalant. Link would have wagered everything he owned, however, that the youth had a weapon ready and waiting to deal out death at the blink of an eye.
Garill appeared equally coiled, and Link was reminded of their previous encounter at the inn, when he felt sure the traveler was deciding whether to attack. This moment was interrupted, however, by Joute's arrival. The more elderly traveler placed a hand on his companion's shoulder, as a friend might do. Link more than suspected it was a gesture of restraint.
"So, we meet again," Joute said calmly, his oddly set eyes taking them all in. Link thought they lingered on himself and Dorian for a second longer than the others. "We hear congratulations are in order, and I see Garill here was already delivering them."
"Yes," Reede said quickly, clearly eager to avoid confrontation. "We are heartened to see the news has traveled so quickly. I trust you are well, Master Joute?"
The middle-aged man barely spared a glance for the village head, his eyes continuing to divide their unsettling attention between Link and Dorian.
"Well enough, yes," he replied curtly. "As I said, we returned to offer our congratulations and honor the… ah… heroes of Hateno. Hopefully we may offer our own humble assistance as your people recover from such a traumatic event."
Now it was Link's turn to stand up. He did not step any closer to the odd pair — instinct told him Garill might want him to do just that. His almond-shaped eyes were as hard as ice, his voice unyielding as iron.
"Your help is not needed nor wanted here," Link heard himself say. Stone was softer than his words. "You left these people in their hour of need. Now seventeen men and women are dead. Fewer might have fallen had you stayed. You did not. You will not feast with the loved ones who have lost them, nor will you enjoy the peace the slain have earned them. Leave or be made to leave, the both of you. I'll not wait long for an answer."
The entire feast was quiet. Everyone was standing and looking not with fear or confusion, but in stern unity at the pair of suddenly unwelcome visitors. Even Reede had abandoned diplomacy in favor of discipline, his frown of disapproval joining those from the surrounding tables.
Garill was openly sneering at those at the head table now, and Link knew the hand now inside his coat pocket was gripping the hilt of a weapon. Joute was clearly restraining him now, but his off-centered eyes were narrowed and hard.
"We shall leave, as there is nothing of interest for us here," Joute said casually. "I am sorry we are so ill-met. Perhaps, another time, we will know one another better."
Link did not care for the implication of Joute's words, but one of his friends was even less forgiving of the pair in general.
"Anytime would too soon, yeh bloody milk-sloppin' cowards!" Brigo snarled. "Play the hero wi' meh again an' I'll out yeh fer the hallow hearts yeh really are! That's if these Hatenoans do no beat me to the bloody honor!"
An angry murmur began rising from the crowd, but Reede silenced them with an upraised hand. Then he spoke clearly so all could hear.
"You have heard the wishes of those who risked their lives to defend us," the village head issued sternly. "Leave now. I would not have further conflict here, but I will not deny Master Link's judgement on you this day."
Garill seemed itching to test the villagers' resolve, but Joute was once again the voice of constraint. He murmured something to his younger companion, who briefly shook his head in defiance. Joute gripped him harder on the shoulder and whispered more fiercely, and though Garill still appeared reluctant, Link could tell his grip on whatever that hidden hand held had relaxed.
Joute inclined his head ever so slightly in Reede's direction, but his eyes were fixed on Link.
"As I said, we shall leave," the elder man said slowly. "Until we meet again."
The pair made their way quickly around the tables before taking the path toward the village entrance. Reede motioned to Thadd and a young village girl named Ivee. Both nodded and, taking up previously hidden bows and quivers, followed the travelers a short distance behind to ensure their departure.
The spell broken, most of the villagers settled back into the evening's festivities. Link, however, sat down with his heart pounding. He still was not sure why he had spoken as he had.
"Reede, I am sorry," Link said earnestly. "I do not know what came over me. My only explanation is that I do not trust them nor their intentions. That is no excuse to resort to threats at any time, let alone in front of your people."
The village head shook his head in reply and laid a comforting hand on Link's wrist.
"You have nothing to apologize for, my friend," Reede insisted gently. "What you said is true. Every word of it. Those words were swords only a warrior such as yourself could wield. As for trust, I can only admit that I, too, found it difficult to see the integrity in their offer. If one such as you is not alone in feeling this way, I must trust to Hylia it is for a reason."
Link nodded, feeling somewhat comforted in that he was not the only one to feel inexplicably agitated by the odd couple. Then, remembering something, he turned to Dorian, who was settling himself back at the table after the brief confrontation.
"Dorian, you said you had your own theories as to how Garill and Joute left Hateno without being discovered by the Ganonspawn," Link recalled in a low voice so only his friend could here. "Would you care to share them with us now?"
The young Sheikah shook his head ever so slightly. "Now would not be a good time, Master Link," he answered in equally low tones. "Tomorrow, after we are well away, I will tell you what I suspected — and what I think I now know for sure."
Dorian's confidence was enough for Link, who settled into recapturing the joy of the evening. Tomorrow, at first light, he would leave this happy people — and hopefully come closer to himself.