By the time darkness descended upon Mount Lanayru, Link and his companions felt as though their entire lives had passed in a haze of mist, keen winds and needling snow. What parts of their faces remained exposed to the elements were now coated with white powder through which their eyes squinted to find the best candidate for each next step they took.

Link had not bothered to set down the Sheikah Slate for some time. He kept it firmly clenched in one freezing hand, the other holding a luminous stone. He constantly consulted the slate's map and its telltale yellow arrow — the mark showing his living location — to keep himself and his friends from wandering astray.

The trio had maintained the same formation since their brief stop some hours before — Link leading, Brigo in the middle and Dorian acting as rear guard. The Sheikah had informed Link a short time before that they were no longer being followed. He had no answer as to why, which made Link even more suspicious of their pursuers' intentions. He sincerely doubted they had simply lost their way after following them this far unseen.

It was during this dark vein of thought that Link's right foot, expecting to find higher ground, fell to the same altitude as his left. The unexpectedly level ground caused him to stumble and fall face-first into the snow.

Brigo and Dorian immediately raced forward, aware only that their friend had all but disappeared. They found Link laughing ruefully at himself while brushing off the fair amount of snow now covering his front.

"The ground flattens here!" he shouted to be heard above the wind and snow. "We'd best make camp now!"

"Don't suppose you could find a ruddy overhang or group o' trees in this mess!" Brigo yelled back at him over the gale.

Link once again glanced at his slate. Though the arrow appeared very close to the oval of blue labeled "Spring of Wisdom," the lines depicting the mountain's elevation showed it still lay some distance above. Immediately east of them, however, was drawn a small collection of brown splotches that Link knew represented shrubbery of some kind. He motioned for his friends to follow. Sure enough, they discovered a modest grove, albeit one devoid of leaves or animal life.

The trio assembled Brigo's large tent as quickly as possible, fastening it to the ground and to two nearby pines. Link was grateful when the job was done. He thought the heat elixir's effect must be wearing off. Luckily Dorian was already blowing a small mound of twigs and brush to life by the time he entered.

The tent contained the smokeless fire's warmth well. The companions discarded their wet cloaks and let them dry nearby while warming their hands, faces and other extremities. Dorian had stowed the luminous stones, while Brigo was fishing out various bits of supplies.

"Need somethin' nice an' hot after that lot out there, lads," the patrolman mused. "Some meat an' greens stew ought to do the trick. While I get about doin' that, can yeh tell me how much further to that spring of ours?"

"We should get there before noon tomorrow," Link guessed. "After that, it's hard to tell how long to make the trip back down."

"It should not take us as long to descend to the Lanayru Road as it took us to travel up the mountain's southern range," Dorian offered. "There would be a more natural path from the spring to the Naydra Snowfield at the western foot of the mountain. That was the route taken by all who visited the spring in centuries past."

Brigo nodded. "Let's hope we can clear this rock by tomorrow night, then," he said earnestly. "I do no fancy tryin' to camp in this weather again."

"I thought you were used to this sort of thing growing up, Brig?" Link offered dryly. The patrolman snorted in response.

"Oh, aye, I'm used to livin' in ice-covered mountains if it's inside a house o' sealed wood with a stout fireplace!" Brigo corrected his friend. "Safer from the cold an' from others, too! Speakin' o' that, yeh still have no idea wot happened to whoever was trackin' us?"

"No," Dorian answered, shaking his head. "I can only guess, but if they are truly Yiga, they may have been loath to come any nearer a sacred spring of Hylia. Though they have forsaken the Goddess, they are as afraid of risking her power as any. Perhaps more."

"Let us hope, then," Link said quietly, his blue eyes gazing into the fire, "that they remain afraid through tomorrow."

The next morning brought even more biting cold than the previous day. Dorian wasted no time doling out more heat elixir to Link and Brigo, who drank gladly. The resulting warmth, combined with every stitch of clothing they possessed, made the journey far more tolerable.

Upon exiting the tent, however, the trio discovered that the swirling mists and winds had died down. Undisturbed snow blanketed the level clearing in which they had camped. Motes of ice hung suspended in the air, enhancing a scene of breathtaking beauty.

An audible sniff from Brigo caused Link and Dorian to turn in surprise.

"It do remind me o' home, lads," the patrolman said in a slightly choked voice. "It do remind me o' home."

"I cannot imagine living where such beauty is commonplace," Dorian said appreciatively before equipping his weapons.

Link nodded in agreement while helping Brigo take down the tent. "You are lucky to have known such a sight in your youth, friend."

It did not take long for the companions to finish breaking camp. Though Dorian again assured them the previous day's followers were nowhere near, the Sheikah still took the time to hide all traces of their stay. Only when the surrounding snow was again made smooth did they start up the narrow path winding up the narrowing body of Mount Lanayru. The group spoke little, conserving its strength for the increasingly difficult climb.

The first sign of their unique destination showed itself in the form of a massive ice pillar rearing from the right side of the path. Its bluntly pointed end jutted outward away from the mountain, glittering like a pale blue spike in the morning sunlight.

More frozen monoliths reared above them as their journey continued. Then Link, still leading the party, stopped suddenly when his foot stepped not on snow or rock, but man-made stone. It was, he realized, part of a long series of steps continuing up the mountain. The stone was partially covered and cracked, results of nature's undisturbed hold for a century.

Brigo frowned at the steps upon reaching them, the reality and near-completion of their journey clear in their presence. Dorian, on the other hand, smiled broadly, as though evidence of such a storied place was more than he had ever dreamed of seeing.

Link stowed the slate on his belt. The stairs' winding trek was guide enough up the mountain's southern side. His heart pounded with anticipation. It was an effort to not leave his friends behind and take the steps two or three at a time. They had to be close. The path turned sharply to the right just above and ahead of them.

A hand on his shoulder stopped Link's physical and emotional surge forward.

"How do yeh plan on gettin' through that, lad?" Brigo asked through the scarf over his mouth. Dorian was right beside him, his eyes furrowed above his balaclava as they examined the area ahead.

Puzzled, Link turned to look at the path ahead of them once again.

"What are you talking about, Brig?" he asked over his shoulder. "There's nothing blocking the way."

"Well, if a great wall of ruddy ice is nothin' to yeh, maybe yer a greater hero than either of us knows," the patrolman said dryly. "We've neither pickaxe nor enough wood to burn the thing down, but mayhap yeh've a better idea?"

Now Link was truly confused. The stairs ahead were indeed framed by sheer ice pillars and rocky crags of stone, but there was no sign of any wall blocking the way. If anything it was the most forgiving part of their journey up the mountain.

"Listen here, Brig, if this is some jest, it's in truly poor taste," Link said irritably. They were too close to the spring now for one of the patrolman's witty exchanges. "If the cold has addled you, then we can stop and —"

"You don't see it, do you, Sir Link?"

Link and Brigo both turned to Dorian, who had walked ahead of both and was now running his hands over nothing. At least, that's how Link saw it. The patrolman, however, gestured pointedly to the Sheikah as though to illustrate the point he had been making.

"See what?" Link asked slowly while walking forward. He looked at Dorian's hands, which seemed as though they were pressed up against flat air. Finally, unable to resist the temptation, he raised his own hand and slowly extended it forward. It met nothing.

Dorian and Brigo, however, gasped in surprise.

"What?" Link demanded. "What's going on?"

The patrolman still appeared amazed at what he was seeing, but the young Sheikah's eyes filled with a sudden solemnity.

"Only you are meant to pass on to the spring," Dorian observed reverently. "We see a wall of ice denying us passage. I am assuming, Sir Link, you see nothing of the sort."

Comprehension dawning on him, Link turned back and once again raised his hand forward. He neither saw nor felt anything. Profane mutterings of amazement issued from Brigo.

"But why?" Link asked, bewildered. "You are my friends and I wish you to come with me."

The Sheikah, however, shook his head in firm denial.

"It is Hylia that has made this so," Dorian said firmly. "I do not understand it, nor will I argue the fact. Go on, Sir Link. We will wait here for your return."

And with that, the young Sheikah began unpacking a small amount of wood for a fire. Brigo snorted in discontent, looked once more at Link and the wall he could not see, then snorted again.

"Get on with it, then," the patrolman huffed. "We'll wait out here in glory and tell our granbabbies the grand tale o' how we waited fer the hero o' Hyrule while freezin' our fannies."

Smiling at his friend's dramatics, Link turned to face the path. Slowly, as though afraid he would encounter what had blocked his companions' way, he stepped forward. Like his hand, the rest of him encountered nothing.

Disappearing from his friends' sight, Link walked up the stairs, turned right, and found himself facing the Spring of Wisdom.

The culmination of the aged stone steps was visible as soon as Link completed their final turn. The natural structure of the mountain split around and cupped the spring itself: a small body of water miraculously unfrozen near Mount Lanayru's summit. The spring was shallow, low enough to allow a small bridge of stone to cross it.

What that bridge led to reminded Link of another place of ageless history: the decaying Temple of Time at the Great Plateau. Just as it had there, the stone walkway gave way to a small staircase which emptied onto a raised platform. Stone pillars in even more disarray than those at the temple rose from the water, some leaning precariously to one side.

Approaching slowly, Link realized the stone pillars ringing the platform itself were mere stubs of their former selves. Perhaps, long ago, they had held up a roof or gazebo under which previous visitors had offered prayer.

The object of those invocations stood on the other side of the spring: a statue of a robed woman with downturned wings rearing over her shoulders. Her eyes and mouth conveyed a kind smile, as though she found her visitor's presence welcome.

Mount Lanayru's peak rose immediately behind the statue of the Goddess, its core almost completely hidden by the columns of ice all around it. Wrapped around it, its head hovering just above Hylia's likeness, was a dragon.

Link whipped the Sheikah blade from its sheath in a heartbeat, his heart beating to jump out of his chest. He had not seen the beast at first. It's blue-white skin blended almost perfectly among the mountain's icy monoliths. It was the sun, reflecting off bluer ridges along the beast's back and a mass of blue horns on top of its head, that had betrayed the dragon's presence. Thin claws of the same color clung to the mountainside, while a tail topped with a mace-like gathering of blue spikes marked the end of its serpentine body.

Now that he could separate the creature from the mountain on which it perched, Link could see two yellow eyes gazing calmly down at him. Clearly, it had seen him approach and was monitoring his every move even now. Link wondered whether, like the shrine on the plateau, this was some kind of test that would not begin until he acted. But what could he do against a creature of this size and untold power?

"Do not be afraid, Link. This is Naydra, the spirit of Mount Lanayru commissioned by the Goddess to protect the Spring of Wisdom."

Link's vision swam before him. He had not heard the delicate lilts of that voice since first awakening on the plateau. Now that he knew it belonged to Zelda, its familiarity ached all the more.

"Why am I here, Zelda?" Link asked her aloud. "What must I do?"

"WHO ARE YOU, BOY? TO WHOM DO YOU SPEAK?"

Link knelt at the force with which the second voice resonated in his mind. It came, he realized, from the dragon, whose eyes were gazing upon him with an intelligence far beyond that of any mere animal. They conveyed a knowledge and authority of ages uncounted, making Link feel next to nothing by comparison.

"I… I am Link," he answered while trying to regain his composure. "I heard the princess, Zelda, speak to me. She… she needs my help."

"YOU DOUBT THE TRUTH OF YOUR OWN WORDS."

Link stood slowly. An overpowering sense of pity had washed over him. He knew he was somehow feeling Naydra's words as much as hearing them. The sensation was emotionally overwhelming. Hot tears stung his eyes.

"I must know who I am, Spirit!" he cried to the dragon's head hovering above him. "I remember next to nothing, and know even less of what I must do next!"

Understanding. It seeped into him, lifted his soul just when it felt despair would claim him.

"YOU COME FOR THE MOST PRECIOUS WISDOM OF ALL. YOUR PLEA IS HEARD, YOUR PRESENCE ACCEPTED. STEP INTO THE WATER."

Though there was no wind here - why did I not notice that before? Link thought to himself - the mountain air's bite was cold enough. Getting wet in such wintery conditions seemed foolhardy at best, fatal at worst.

"Why?" Link shouted at the ancient creature. "What will happen to me?"

"NOT TO YOU, BUT WITHIN, AND ONLY THAT WHICH THE GODDESS WOULD RESTORE."

Understanding even less than before but feeling he would learn nothing more from the dragon, Link removed sword, bow, quiver and slate from his person and set them aside. He then stepped off the stone platform, steeling himself for what was to come.

Link had thought mentally acknowledging the existing chill would be enough. That was nothing, however, compared to the agony of the water. The moment his leg sank into the spring's surprising depths - How can it be deep enough for me? - of the spring, his body was wracked with violent tremors. Link thought his bones must jump out of his body, so shaken was he by the cold.

"THUS BEGINS YOUR RETURN TO SELF. THUS BEGINS THE RESTORATION OF HYLIA'S CHAMPION."

The water rose to Link's chest. He lost all feeling in his legs. Icy fire seeped into his lungs.

"DO NOT FEAR THE PAST, LINK OF HYRULE. LET IT FILL YOU."

The water was seeping over his mouth, over his eyes. Was he going to drown?

"LET IT FILL YOU."

Flowers bloomed gaily at the base of Mount Lanayru. Blossoms of orange, white and red sang of summer's coming, a fact reinforced by the complete lack of snow in the normally aptly named Naydra Snowfield. In place of thick white drifts, generous beds of green grass carpeted the forest floor that lay in the mountain's western shadow. The setting sun enhanced the entire scene with a golden glow, as though the day's glory had saved itself solely for this time and place.

Link saw none of the scenic beauty. His gaze was fixed on the young woman walking three paces ahead of him. Always three paces, with Link just one pace to the right so he could see ahead of his charge as well.

The woman's golden hair cascaded down to the small of her back. She was clothed in a spotless white dress that left her shoulders bare and stopped halfway between her knees and ankles. A belt of gold and blue, secured by a circular clasp adorned with a pyramid of three golden triangles, encircled her midriff. Gold bracelets adorned each of her forearms, their central design - the same triangle insignia of Hyrule - sitting atop her wrists. A necklace of gold closely encircled the base of her neck, fashioned to look like a pair of wings. Only her sandals, which were made of stout leather, did not conform to her regal appearance.

She had not spoken once during their descent from the mountain. Neither had Link, though that was because he knew better. Though he had come to know Zelda better over the previous year, had perhaps earned whatever version of friendship was possible given their formal relationship, he knew words of encouragement or comfort were useless now. Though she walked with as much dignity as ever, the symbol of Hyrule's hope now considered herself its opposite.

And what could Link say? Zelda had poured herself into her training as much as he had into his. But that was where the similarities ended. He could feel the sword on his back, could grasp its dark blue hilt with his hands. He could train from dawn until dusk, weaving the forms of a master swordsman until they were as ingrained and natural to him as breathing.

For Zelda, there was nothing to see, nothing to hold, nothing to fix or correct. For the thousandth time, she had fumbled in the dark for the power that was supposedly her birthright. For the thousandth time, her hands had come away empty.

Link felt the hopelessness he knew suffused the princess's soul. For him, the only focus had ever been what was next. For the better part of three years, part of that answer had remained the same - protect Zelda at any and all cost. He had done so without hesitation or thought, had nearly died doing so more than once. As her appointed knight, Link would continue to perform that duty.

Now, however, his expression was clouded even as his eyes remained locked on Hyrule's anointed princess and protector. What was next? And how soon would it need to be done?

The eastern gate to Lanayru Road lay ahead. Like the steps leading to the spring on the mountain, the stone wall and archway were older than even Zelda knew. Another time, Link would well have expected her to comment on its incalculable age, to spout theory after theory as to when it had been built, who had built it, and why it had been designed just so. She had issued no comment when they had passed through it the previous day, nor did she do so now. Its moss-covered and pitted face held no interest for the normally studious princess.

It was the individuals waiting at the gateway that finally seized Link's attention. There were four of them, each as different in appearance as personality.

The left-most figure was by far the largest of the four, his round form nearly twice the height of the others. Massively muscular arms and hands hung at his sides and nearly touched the ground. A broad sword belt of chain links slashed across a chest as broad as a boulder, held together by a clasp bearing a red diamond sigil topped by three smaller triangles. Criss-crossing underneath it was a sash of sky blue fabric. A mane of white hair framed the Goron's jet-black eyes and wide mouth, while an enormous sword hilt reared from over his right shoulder. Daruk was normally the most cheerful of the group. Now, he just appeared anxious.

Next to him stood a tall but much thinner individual. He, too, wore a blue sash, but his was wrapped around the neck, the end billowing out smartly over his sleeveless tunic and breastplate to show off the white bird insignia sewn into the fabric. The Rito's feathers were dark blue, save for the white edges of his pinion and head feathers. Four braids hung out and down from the back of his head, the green beads capping their ends dangling slightly in the summer breeze. Revali's eyes were as green as those beads, and they were narrowed to vertical slits in his usual expression of critical appraisal.

In the past, the sight of the third figure might have set Link's heart racing and his stomach into nervous backflips. Now, Mipha's presence only made him ache for the loss of something they had barely enjoyed to begin with. The diminutive Zora was breathtakingly beautiful. Her smooth skin was white on her face and the front of her body. The rest of her, including her fishtailed head, was dark red save for the blue-and-yellow fins on her forearms and hips. A silver headdress made of diamonds, moons and teardrops clung to the headfins that framed a delicate, heart-shaped face. A similarly fine necklace collared the length of her neck, with turquoise jewels dangling from its base. Her sky blue sash was, as it would have been with any Zora not armed for battle, her only other clothing.

Mipha's large yellow eyes kept shifting between Zelda and Link, the latter noticed, and the ache in his heart increased. Part of him desperately wanted to answer the shred of hope those eyes contained. The other part of him wanted it snuffed out completely by the reality of what lay before them. How could they hope for tomorrow, when today was so uncertain?

Only the fourth member of the waiting party appeared at ease. Like every Gerudo woman Link had ever seen, Urbosa's body was lean and fit, with no trace of fat or unused muscle on her. Unlike most of her people, however, there was a softness to her curves that enhanced what was already exotic beauty. The entirety of the tall woman's body was sun-darkened, save what little her clothing concealed. Her severely cut halter was edged in gold, as were her upturned shoulder-guards. Her own blue sash, longer than those of her companions, was cunningly tied and divided to serve as a skirt that covered most of one leg and hardly any of the other.

Dark red hair fuller than other Gerudo spilled out and back from the gold-and-emerald circlet that rested on her crown. Large golden hoops hung from her ears, occasionally clinking against a trio of golden rings encircling her neck. The desert queen's bright green eyes gazed steadily at the young woman who approached them. Perhaps she will know what to say, Link thought desperately.

The four of them approached slowly as Zelda and Link drew near. Though the princess had stopped, Link remained behind her. He should have been watching the surrounding area, but he could not take his eyes off the golden curtain of hair.

Daruk, always the most garrulous of the group, broke the tense silence.

"So?" he asked in his warm, rumbling voice. "Don't keep us in suspense. How'd everything go up there on the mountain?"

Link did not hear her answer, for she had issued none. Not vocally, at least. Only a slow shake of that golden waterfall confirmed what had happened - or rather, what had not happened.

Daruk appeared absolutely crestfallen. Link could not blame him. Hearty optimism was the strength of the Gorons and especially their Champion. Daruk had been sure this time would be different for the princess. He had been wrong.

To Link's surprise, Revali stepped forward, his eyes open and startled rather than half-closed with their usual aloofness.

"So you didn't feel anything?" the Rito persisted worriedly. "No power at all?

This time Zelda did speak, though the pain of doing so was all too clear.

"I'm sorry, but no," she half-whispered while averting her gaze.

It was, as Link had hoped, Urbosa who offered the sincere encouragement the princess needed.

"Then let's move on," the Gerudo said firmly, but not unkindly, through blue-painted lips. "You've done all you could. Feeling sorry for yourself won't be of any help. Anything could finally spark the power to seal Ganon away. We just have to keep looking for that … thing."

Urbosa's last words were spoken with a small smile, much as an older sister might give to a younger sibling. Daruk nodded desperately, clinging to the confidence he usually carried in abundance. Even Revali seemed to emit a willingness to believe, if not necessarily belief itself.

Even that was far more than Zelda seemed willing to show. Link could only see the side of her face from his vantage point, but even that much appeared downcast as she continued to avoid looking at those who had sworn to fight Ganon alongside her. Knowing her as well as he did, Link understood Zelda felt totally and completely unworthy of their support.

"That's kind of you," she murmured listlessly. "Thank you."

Mipha looked positively heartbroken at Zelda's despair. This was not unusual for a Zora, which were usually the most empathetic of Hyrule's peoples. Mipha was especially kindhearted, even among her own. Her station being commensurate to Zelda's, she had always maintained an equal footing with the Hylian princess despite the latter's role against the imminent threat.

Now, with that role in danger of collapsing, Mipha reached out to her human counterpart.

"If I may…?"

The Zora's delicate request to speak seemed to stir Zelda to wakefulness. Mipha was a quiet soul by nature; the rare occasions she did say something always earned the attention of others.

"I thought you…," Mipha began, "Well, I'm not sure how to put this into words…"

Link thought the Zora seemed… reluctant? No. Embarrassed. She was embarrassed at what she was about to say, which was an emotion he had never witnessed from her before. Why?

"I was thinking about what I do when I'm healing," the Zora finally continued. "You know, what usually goes through my mind…"

As she spoke, Mipha's gaze flickered briefly to Link. He suddenly dreaded what she was going to say. Part of him already knew what it would be. The only question was whether his heart wanted to hear it - or keep it a guarded secret forever. It seemed to change its mind a hundred times in the span of seconds.

"It helps when I think - when I think about -"

And just when it seemed Mipha had plucked up the courage to say it, a deafening roar wrent the air. It shook the surrounding mountains and made the ground tremble beneath them. Zelda nearly fell to her knees before Link caught her from behind. He could still smell the jasmine she had washed into her hair the day before.

Having regained his balance first, Revali launched himself into the air. The updraft from his large wings - a skill only he possessed even among the Rito - briefly set the others' hair aflutter. Higher he soared, until he was well above the surrounding mountains. Link could just make out that he was facing northwest - toward Hyrule Castle.

Even as Link registered this, clouds of black tinged with red light spread across the sky, blocking out the sun. Darkness descended immediately, with only the flashes of crimson lightning to dispel it.

The others, including Zelda, turned toward Link, and it took him a moment to realize why. Soft light illuminated the right shoulder of his sky blue tunic. Without a word, he unsheathed the Sword, and saw the length of its blade was suffused in a brighter version of that same light. He had read of the blade's phenomenon. This was the first time he had seen it.

Link resheathed the Sword just as Revali landed with a burst of speed and wind.

"It's here," the Rito said quickly, his green eyes blazing with battle light.

"Are you sure?" Mipha asked, her yellow eyes glowing brightly in the gathering gloom.

"Positive," the Rito confirmed. "It is at the castle."

"That makes no sense!" Zelda cried. She looked overwhelmed, as well she might with the last threads of logic left to her ripping apart. "My studies showed it would most likely come from-"

"Let's stop wasting time!" Daruk interrupted forcefully. Link gave him credit. Even as a Goron chieftain, he would never have interrupted in such a manner. Now, it might be best thing not just for Zelda, but for everyone.

"We're gonna need everything we've got to take that thing down!" Daruk continued gruffly while emphatically pounding one of his massive hands with the other. "Now, Champions! To your Divine Beasts! Link will need to meet Ganon head on when we attack. This must be a unified assault!"

Link did not miss the soft scoff of disgust nor the sideways glance from Revali. The Rito's moment of understanding had passed, his old grievance resurfaced. Link did not care. All that mattered was Zelda's safety - and the sudden yearning to confront the source of the black skies above.

His first concern was already shared by another. Urbosa strode over to Zelda and put comforting, sun-darkened hands on the princess's pale shoulders.

"Come, we should go," the Gerudo calmly urged. "We need to get you someplace safe."

Link's heart burned with gratitude for woman. With her power still untapped, Zelda would be nothing more than a target to Ganon. Link was not sure whether he could protect her and fight the Calamity simultaneously.

Zelda, however, appeared to consider Urbosa's words as an offer, one which she ultimately rejected. Looking up, her soft green eyes blazed with a newfound determination. Link was strongly reminded of her stubborn persistence in her field studies. There was something more to this, however, and he had no idea what it might be.

"No," Zelda answered firmly while twisting out of Urbosa's soft grip. "I may not be of much use on the battlefield, but there must - there must be something I can do to help!"

Daruk scratched his white-maned head, obviously at a loss as to what Zelda could do. Mipha appeared encouraged at the princess's renewed determination. Urbosa once again looked the part of the older sister, concerned that her younger sibling might be getting in over her head. Revali wasn't even looking at her, but rather at the sky above, clearly eager to commence his own role in the coming battle.

And Link? For once, his mind was unclear as to what should be done. He felt as though every part of his being was pulled in a different direction. His heart went out to Mipha. Would he see her again? As if he had spoken the question aloud, the Zora princess turned to face him. Her eyes shone with a light that filled him and made him feel empty all at once. What, in the end, could he offer her?

Wrenching his eyes from Mipha's beautiful gaze, Link turned to the northwest. There, his immortal enemy awaited, its coming already stirring something bestial deep inside him. His hand itched to re-draw the Sword meant to seal away the very thing that was now unleashed.

Then Link's blue eyes settled again on Zelda. The rising wind was blowing her golden hair away from her face, which was set with a mix of worry and resolution. At that moment, he no longer cared about the what's, why's or how's of events already in motion. He knew only that he and Zelda were linked, and that he must do all in his power to keep that link from being severed.

Whatever the cost.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was a rare chapter where I debated both sides of too-much-or-not-enough. If the springs matter, than so too must the dragons, but if so how much? Some of my favorite fantasy novels involve mysterious scenes of wonder that aren't explained to death - and that's okay. If you're a Star Wars fan (Midi-chlorians, anyone?) you likely appreciate the less-is-more approach.

That being said, I absolutely love fleshing out Link's memories. So much is hinted at in the cutscenes, yet Link is frustratingly emotionless in them. That's no longer the case here, where we glimpse just how many different directions his heart is tugged. Zelda, Mipha, Hyrule... each lays claim to his attention. This was also a chance to further delve into Link's history with Zelda, and the journeys that bring them from defined point to point.

Depicting the other Champions is just as big a treat, even if this is just a broad introduction compared to the much more personal memories that are to come. Do you have a favorite Champion? If so, why? Don't hesitate to leave a comment/review. It's no mistake that so many of our favorite heroes share more than a thread of perceived commonality with ourselves.

The aftermath of Link finding this memory contains a surprising twist. I pray you're okay with it. If you like what you've read so far, feel free to give to give those follow/favorite buttons a click, and thanks so much for being here in the first place! Hope life is treating you well. - MattWords