Link rose at dawn's light as if a bell had called him to wake. He retrieved his belongings swiftly. So eager was he for this day's journey that he had arranged everything the night before so all was readily at hand.

Dorian's gift of a weapon was once again strapped to his back, the hilt jutting just above his right shoulder. His bow was shouldered and quiver full. The Sheikah Slate hung on two stout hooks cunningly sewn into his broad waist belt. The curious paraglider was collapsed and situated from another pair of hooks on the back of the same belt. His haversack, filled to bursting with food from the generous Hatenoans, hung at his left side.

The large, second-story loft of the inn was occupied only by Link and his companions, both of whom were already up and likewise preparing to leave. Dorian had stowed his casual Sheikah clothing in favor of the flexible leather breastplate, pauldrons and greaves his people usually wore away from home. His own large sword was also strapped to his back, as was his small Sheikah bow.

Brigo wore his regular travel gear as he always did, highlighted by a long spear and enormous pack of supplies. Dorian, however, looked askance at the patrolman and shook his head.

"Best to lighten that lot, Master Brigo," he said warningly. "We'll not have horses to carry it this time, and you'll not want to bear that much on foot up the mountain."

The patrolman frowned over his shoulder, but nodded just the same.

"Aye, yeh're right there, lad," Brigo admitted. "Right, give meh a tick to sort this lot out."

There was a fair amount of wincing and bemoaning from their experienced friend as he parted with all but the bare essentials. Much of it was extra food and drink, but Link also noticed extra lengths of rope, two lanterns, several large spoons and what appeared to be an enormous claw go into the pile.

With a sigh of regret, Brigo then put the discard pile into an extra bag that had emerged from the original, then stowed it under his bed.

"I'll no forget those," the patrolman murmured in a hurt tone. "That hawk claw was a gift from meh pappy, an' I intend on keepin' it!"

Link and Dorian favored their friend with consoling murmurs as they descended the stairs. They were greeted, as they had been every morning during their stay, by the young hostess. This time, however, her attention was only for the tall patrolman. She walked right up to him, raised herself up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before patting it and saying, "You're a lovely dancer." Then, without so much as a farewell, she walked straight to the kitchen in the back of the inn.

The patrolman was staring, jaw agape, at the girl's point of exit. Then he began rubbing the offended cheek and muttering ominously.

"Ruddy girl do no give me the time o' day 'til I be leavin'. Typical woman playin' games wi' a man's honest heart. I am a good dancer, though, make no mistake."

Deciding silence was the better show of friendship than outright laughter, Link and Dorian held their tongues as the trio exited the inn and turned north toward the tech lab. They saw more people at the village fringes than near the inn, as those with crops or livestock had also risen with the sun. They waved cheerily at the trio, all of whom returned the salutation with equal enthusiasm. Each of them was truly saddened to be leaving the hospitality of Hateno.

The bittersweetness of their departure quickly gave way to an eagerness for the day's journey. At the foot of the easternmost hill and waiting just outside the Retsam Forest, stood Purah and Symin. The former was bundled up in a large coat that covered her entire body. Clearly, it had been hers before her age-altering transformation.

Despite being thus bundled, the white-haired director called out to the approaching companions rather harshly.

"Hurry up!" Purah said irritably. "I'm cold!"

Trying not to smile, Link and the others quickened their strides until they had met the awaiting Sheikah. Their breath rose in misty white clouds in the still-brisk morning air. The sun had not yet escaped the shadow of the east coast mountains.

Purah looked appraisingly at the trio.

"Well, it looks like waiting a day didn't hurt, did it?" she piped with a glare in Link's direction. "You've got plenty of wood, tinder and warm clothes, right? Odds are you'll have to camp overnight on the mountain, and it's way colder at night than during the day up there!"

Brigo snorted derisively. "We've got what we need, lassie," he said huffily. Link thought he was still mourning the sizeable dent in his supply sack. "We'll no freeze to death up there."

Link had a thick doublet stowed in his own gear, a gift from Rhoam back at the Great Plateau. He had needed it there to climb its tallest peak, but Mount Lanayru made Mount Hylia seem a molehill by comparison.

Purah shifted her baleful and overlarge eyes to the patrolman. "Don't get snippy with me, mister! And it's 'ma'am,' to you! I'm old enough to be your great grandma!"

"Hylia send me to meh doom if yeh are, yeh crazy wee coot." Link was grateful Brigo did not say it loud enough for the director to hear.

Symin severed the squabble with a polite gesture towards the woods behind him.

"Go straight east through the forest. You'll reach the foothills of Walnot Mountain. It's part of the Lanayru range. Stay on the flats or ridges as much as you can, and you should be able to reach the spring near Lanayru's summit. Your slate will show you the way of course, Master Link."

Link nodded and patted the device at his hip. With neither Dorian nor Brigo having journeyed this particular path before, he was doubly grateful for the detailed map on the slate now. He still wanted one question confirmed, however.

"All of us will be returning to Kakariko Village after seeing the spring," Link explained. "The map shows the Lanayru road cutting straight west from the mountain. Is it still safe to use?"

"Difficult, but much shorter than returning this way, yes," Symin said with a frown. "That is, of course, assuming you are wanting to travel together? Otherwise you could just use the slate to travel directly to the shrine at Kakariko. Director Purah's slate shows it has been activated."

Link realized, then, why Impa had asked him to activate the shrine before departing Kakariko. She had known about the slate's travel ability. What else do you know that you are waiting to tell me? he wondered.

"We go together," Link answered aloud. "I like my chances better with them than alone."

Purah once again gazed at Link with a look that was both childish and wise beyond her years at the same time.

"You've changed a lot, Linky," she said matter-of-factly. "Hopefully not too much. Hopefully enough."

With that, Purah toddled over to Link, pulled him down by his shirt into a kneeling position and gave him a very formal kiss on the forehead.

"May Hylia bless your journey, Link of Hyrule," she murmured in a voice no six-year-old would ever use. After Link straightened up, Purah turned to Symin. "Can we go now? I'm freezing!"

Just like that, the two Sheikah left the three companions bemused at their sudden departure. Brigo then began to snigger.

"I'm no sure what's funnier: that yeh got kissed by a six-year-old or a one-hundred-twenty-three-year-old!"

Link gave the patrolman a none-too-gentle push upon passing him and entering the woods, then immediately called out to his Sheikah friend to cut off whatever retort the patrolman might have.

"Dorian, why did Symin say the Lanayru Road would be more difficult?" Link asked over his shoulder.

"That road used to be the main and only path to Mount Lanayru and the Spring of Wisdom, Master Link," Dorian replied as he caught up to the pair. "I'm assuming you saw it cuts through a canyon of water? The walls of that canyon are covered with an incredible work of stone called the Promenade. The road is actually a giant stone walkway with arches and pillars, all built around the canyon's waterfall. It is written that the Promenade's grandeur was such that those journeying to the Spring of Wisdom felt spiritually uplifted and prepared to seek Hylia's guidance."

"What about all that is dangerous, then?" Brigo asked as he joined the group. They were deep in the woods now. Remembering his previous night's review of the Sheikah Slate, Link thought they must begin to thin soon.

"The Promenade was overrun by the Calamity," Dorian answered sadly. "It is said Ganonspawn tried to scale the mountain and destroy the spring itself. When they failed, they made the canyon their home. They were the third and final tine of a three-pronged assault on Kakariko. We are lucky to have survived."

The Sheikah was momentarily quiet at this reflection, but Link did not interject. The trees were indeed retreating, and he could see the rocky foothills of Walnot Mountain ahead.

"Even now, lizalfos dwell in the Promenade," Dorian finally continued. "They are skilled at remaining hidden until it is too late, and that is why none have made the journey to the Spring of Wisdom in over a century… since you and Princess Zelda, I suppose, Sir Link."

"Why would you say that?" Link asked, only half-paying attention. "Someone could have made the journey after us."

"I'm afraid not, Sir Link," Dorian replied quietly. "You see, none can journey to the Spring of Wisdom until they are at least seventeen years old, and… and it is written that the Calamity struck on Zelda's seventeenth birthday."

Link had been about to take his first step onto the rocky beginnings of the mountain. His mind whirled. Seventeen. A girl, or a very young woman at best. Link had never considered Zelda's literal age, had never stripped away her name and station enough to process that a girl scarcely more than a child would have depended on him, only to face Ganon alone in the end. The fact was stark reality, and suddenly he had a furious desire to reach the spring has quickly as possible.

Dorian and Brigo interpreted Link's silence correctly and left him alone for the next few hours of their journey. The sun climbed as they did, its rays finally striking them after clearing Walnot's summit. The trio's path was as Purah had promised — smooth and wide. Once it carried them to Walnot's top-most ridge, they turned north toward the rearing monolith of Mount Lanayru.

Though the sun was now high and uncovered, the air was cooling quickly. Link had already dug out his doublet and was wearing his cloak over it. Dorian and Brigo were similarly bundled, their breath misting out in front of them.

The journey grew more difficult. Rocky crags reared out of an increasingly dense fog, which diluted the sun's light until it was difficult for them to determine exactly where it was. This forced Link to consult the Sheikah Slate more than once to determine their location and reaffirm their path.

After an undetermined amount of time, the trio stopped to rest at a short flat area along the ridge. Soft, blue-green light bloomed to life. Dorian had unpacked his luminous stones — wondrous rocks that emitted their own enchanting light. He handed one to Link, then beckoned to Brigo to join them.

"Yeh showed me the things already, lad," the patrolman began, but Dorian cut him off with a gesture and once again waved him to forward. Nodding silently, Brigo crouched near the other two companions.

"Someone is following us," the Sheikah whispered quietly so none but they could possibly hear. "For at least two hours, now. The mist has kept me from seeing who or how, but I believe it to be Garill or Joute — or both."

Link's eyes scanned the area around him, but the exercise was useless. Swirling mists bred from the cold and snow that now covered most of the mountain hid everything from view save that which was directly in front of them. He could see, however, that Brigo was dubious.

"How do yeh figure it's them, lad?" he asked softly. "They left the village through the west gate. No way they could circle back. They'd have to go back through Hateno, an' there's no way in Hyrule Reede or the villagers would let 'em."

Dorian looked at both of his friends intently, as though he was about to share something truly profound.

"I believe both of them are Yiga," the Sheikah said quickly.

Link simply frowned in ignorance of the term, but Brigo's snort of derision could not have come any sooner.

"I know they're a pair o' bokoblin guts, but yeh'll have a time convincin' meh they're evil magicians come to steal meh soul while I'm sleepin'!"

Dorian shook his head impatiently. Link was already tempted to believe his Sheikah friend. Young though he was, Dorian was not one to risk making a mistake of seemingly enormous magnitude. He had, Link realized, held onto this suspicion for nearly a week.

"Explain, Dorian," Link said quietly with a look at Brigo. "Believe it or not, the word doesn't jog any memories for me."

"To be honest, I am somewhat surprised it doesn't," Dorian admitted. "There are at least two written occurrences of your having confronted the Yiga, including one in which you saved Princess Zelda from almost certain death in the Gerudo Desert."

Link frowned, but his mind remained a blank slate on this subject. Will the spring change that? he wondered "Go on, then, what are they?" he said aloud.

For answer, Dorian used a finger to trace a single, vertical line into the snow. He added two diagonal lines at its end, each branching off in different directions.

"For countless ages, the Sheikah were one people," Dorian explained while tracing the single line. "United in purpose and under the light of the Goddess Hylia."

Dorian's finger then reached the fork where the vertical line split in two. "Ten millennia ago, the Sheikah created the technology that helped seal away that age's incarnation of Ganon. They were praised and revered for their power. At first. Then many began to fear what that technology could do. They feared the Divine Beasts and Guardians might one day turn against their creators."

"They were not wrong," the young Sheikah added softly. "Only early in their fears."

Link did not say anything. He thought back to a heated and unknowing retort he had thrown at Impa's face. The Divine Beasts you Sheikah constructed were overtaken...So in a way, you failed too.

"The Sheikah were soon deemed by all but the royal family to be too dangerous for the common good of Hyrule. That is why," Dorian explained while pointing to one of the shorter, diagonal lines, "we have remained hidden in Kakariko for so long. Our ancestors cast off most of our technological advances and chose to serve their appointment as Hyrule's protectors through more discreet means."

Suddenly Link understood why the shrines and towers of the Sheikah had lain asleep and abandoned. Once, they would have been used regularly. Slates such as the one on his hip might have been commonplace, a ready and available method for anyone to travel from place to place. That power, however, had clearly frightened those who did not understand it — or trust those who held it.

"Some did not believe they deserved an exile's life," Dorian continued, now pointing to the other diagonal line. "They forged a hatred towards the kingdom that now shunned them. These sad souls swore their allegiance to Ganon."

Brigo issued a low whistle of amazement. "I'll admit, lad, I'd never heard them explained like that. Always thought they were bogeymen meant to put tykes in bed and young patrolmen on guard."

Dorian shook his head sadly. "Though I have never faced one myself, the Yiga, as those outcasts came to call themselves, are all too real. So complete was their transformation that they made it their mission to support Ganon and assist his return in any way they could. The Yiga are mirrored opposites to the Sheikah."

"What makes you think Garill and Joute are Yiga?" Link interjected.

"I had but a suspicion when they left Hateno the night we arrived, Sir Link," Doiran answered readily. "Even had they somehow slipped past the hundreds of Ganonspawn in the forest, they would have left some sign. There was none. I believe they either left with the bokoblins' blessing or with the aid of the dark magic the Yiga practice."

"Then there is this," Dorian continued, overriding a protest Brigo had been about to issue. "The core of the Yiga's power lies in falsehood and deceit. Joute and Garill's efforts to 'help' those at Hateno were as hollow as their pleasantries. Through their magic, Yiga are able to assume the appearance of normal men. I believe those two are Yiga, and it served their clan to undermine the village's defenses before the Ganonspawn attacked."

It all fits, Link thought. The way they acted, even why I reacted the way I did. He mentally chalked up the latter to instinct, similar to his ability to fight without memory of learning how. Speaking of memories…

"What were you getting at with your comment on the Gerudo Desert?" Link asked suddenly. The young Sheikah greeted the question with a satisfied smile, much as a proud teacher would react to a promising student.

"It is almost certain the Yiga made their nest in Gerudo, but Sheikah of generations past sent to find them never returned," Dorian explained. "We had already seen Garill was eager for confrontation. Probing his true identity — and seeing his reaction to it — was what ultimately convinced me he and Joute are Yiga."

Brigo could not help but nod his head at the logic of it all, but then he immediately looked around as though they might be attacked any second.

"They might be gettin' suspicious with us stoppin' this long, then," the patrolman said out of the side of his mouth. "Much as I'd like to find 'em first, I do no fancy our chances splittin' up in this soup."

Link agreed with his friend on both counts. "Let's get moving while it's still light," he said as he got to his feet. "We stand a better chance staying together. Dorian, you take the rear. I'll lead since I know where we're going. Brigo, make sure we don't stray from one another."

The Sheikah nodded, but held them up a second longer as he fished something out of his large pack. They were small glass vials, each filled with a reddish liquid. He gave one each to the others and unstoppered one for himself.

"Heat elixir," Dorian explained. "Made from red darners and summerwing butterflies. It will keep the cold at bay as we get higher."

Link partook of the concoction gratefully and immediately felt a warming sensation spread throughout his entire body. He could see some of the color return to his friends' faces as well.

Awareness heightened, bodies warmed and resolve unshaken, the trio set off once again into the swirling mists of Mount Lanayru.

Joute craned his head ever so slightly over the rise behind which he and Garill were hidden, making certain that the small halo of blue-green light was moving away from them before relaxing. Tracking the trio in these conditions was exhausting work, even for them.

Both of the odd men were garbed in heavy clothing to ward off the bitter cold swirling around them. Joute much preferred the natural warmth of his homeland, but there was no place for preference while accomplishing a task of such honor. Anything and everything must be done to ensure their success.

At that specific moment, that included talking reason into Garill's overly hot head.

"Why have we not yet attacked those insolent heathen!" the younger companion snarled through his scarf, his off-center eyes glaring malevolently at his elder counterpart. "Our chances have been too numerous to count by now!"

Joute nodded patiently. Patience always won the day. Patience always yielded the prize. His particular mentor had ingrained patience into him more than anything else, until it had become his first, second and last option.

"Numerous, yes, but none good," Joute replied calmly while keeping his eye on the slowly moving lights ahead. "You would attack with us being outnumbered and they holding the high ground? I do not esteem those odds as highly as you."

"You overestimate their chances!" Garill answered defiantly. "The boy is a shell of what our master claims him to be! The patrolman is a fool, and the Sheikah brat too young to know a sword from a skillet!"

"Then go," Joute replied, his arm casually motioning in the direction their quarry had gone. "Expose them for the frauds they are. I do not doubt you alone could accomplish what twenty-five score bokoblins and a Stalfos could not."

Hatred, unsheathed and burning, shone from Garill's eyes, yet he did not move on Joute's sarcastic invitation. His restraint was especially impressive given its reluctance, Joute thought.

"What, then?" Garill finally asked resentfully. "We cannot follow much farther. We dare not risk discovering whether the power of the spring is still active and, if it is, whether it might recognize us."

Joute nodded thoughtfully. His younger companion was giving this more thought than he would have received credit for. Finally, he stood up. Their prey was far enough ahead that doing so would not risk discovery.

"We know where they are going after the spring," Joute said, dusting off the snow from his clothes. This truly was a cursed place. "You still have the offering, I assume?"

For answer, Garill hefted a large sack that bulged oddly in several different places. Shaking it produced several metallic clanks from within. Joute nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Then we must hurry. We have time yet to set the snare before our game has moved on."