Apologies to those who saw the previous upload of this chapter. I straight up used the wrong document. Sorry about that.

Please enjoy!

Chapter 13 - Bridges

"Oh, come on, Barnes, you're the only person who can help me with this!" Isha whined, slamming her palm on the bomb shop counter. "I just need like… five bombs and I should be able to clear away the debris!"

The short, stubby man rolled his eyes, unflinching. "You are the last person I would trust with these things," he spat. "Why do you want to go opening up old caves anyways? What if that's where those monsters are hiding?"

"I told you, they're gone. Link took care of them, once and for all. They're not hiding in some cave or just waiting for things to go back to normal to strike again."

"You seem to be so knowledgeable about them all of a sudden," he scoffed. "You slept through their rampage. As usual, you're in over your head and don't even know it. I won't have you putting this town at risk just because you've fought off a few thugs."

The two glared at each other, arms crossed. If there was one person in all of Kakariko who rivaled Isha's stubbornness, it was the local explosives expert, Barnes.

"I still need those bombs," she huffed. "And I'm not leaving until I get them."

The bomb shop owner snarled and tapped his fingers on his arm. "These aren't toys, you know."

Another long silence, another long glare.

With a heavy sigh, Barnes reached under the counter and pulled out a knit bag. "I will show you how to use them, at this cave you want to reopen. But if I see even one monster in there, you're on your own!"

As he stuffed a few bombs into the bag, Isha clapped her hands together. "I knew you'd come around eventually."

"I'm still not giving these to you," he spat, coming around from behind the counter. "You can't just be running around with bombs willy-nilly."

"Whatever you say, old man," the young woman replied. She held the door open for him and led Barnes to the south end of town.

"Why do you want inside that cave so damn badly, anyways?" he asked as they came upon the Spirit's Forest.

"Since Telma and I are waiting for news of the bridge to Castle Town being repaired, I'm going to be stuck here for a few days. I always used to come up here to keep my archery skills sharp, I figured I'd pass the time in much the same way." Isha sighed. "Just… thought it would be nice to have something familiar."

The balding man nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly. "That's fair enough, I suppose. You said it leads to the beginning of the spring?"

"Yeah, it's at the far end of the cave. Actually, the spring is technically below the cave. There's a massive hole in the floor, you can see the spring from there."

"You know, I've never actually seen any part of the spring aside from the lower pool," he rubbed his chin. "Kinda didn't consider that the spring itself was further back."

"It seemed like nobody had been there in a long time."

They continued their trek, the midday sun doing its best to dispel the chill in the air that foretold of the coming winter. Isha rubbed her arms for warmth, wondering how temperatures would be in the Domain. Or within the temple under the lake. She shuddered. The cold had always been her mortal enemy.

Finally, she and Barnes made it to the other side of the forest. Isha scanned the cliff face, looking for the tucked-in entrance. Her eyes fell upon a particularly large pile of crumbled rock. "There it is!" she pointed.

Barnes whistled. "That's quite the cave-in. Are you sure the entire cave system didn't go with it?"

"Oh…" her face fell. "You know, I really didn't think of that…"

Barnes dropped his bomb bag in the dirt at his feet. "Well, only one way to find out." He took out two bombs from the bag and gestured for her to do the same. Isha followed his lead, placing the bombs carefully upon the debris as Barnes instructed.

He then reached for something at his belt. "Always keep plenty of fuse on me," he said with a toothy grin, brandishing a small rolled-up ball of fuse line that was buckled to his belt loop. "Now, we'll take this end here…" He knelt down by one of the bombs and showed her where to attach the fuse. They proceeded to do the same with the other three bombs, then tied the fuses together at the center.

"Alright, go stand over there," Barnes pointed over to an outcropping of rock. "Stand behind that stick-up there and put your hands over your ears." As she stepped back, he took a box of matches from his pocket and struck one.

He made sure all four fuses were burning before clumsily darting away, running for the spot where Isha sat. They both covered their ears and waited.

The resulting explosion was earth-shaking, and loose rock tumbled down from the cliffs below. A massive cloud of dust was kicked up in the resulting winds, blasting the pair even from behind their hiding spot. Large chunks of destroyed limestone struck the ground around them, shattering further on impact. Isha's ears rang despite her covering them, and she was reminded of her prior injury.

Thankfully, the ringing faded shortly after the dust settled. Barnes peaked out from behind the rock to observe the damage. Seeing that all was clear, he turned back to Isha.

"Seems you're in luck - the cave looks clear!" he said triumphantly.

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, that's a relief. Thank you for your help, Barnes. I really do appreciate it."

He held up his hands in dismissal. "Don't you worry about thanking me. Just… try to keep yourself out of trouble from here on."

"The stronger I get, the less trouble I'll get into," Isha replied with a grin.

Barnes threw his empty bomb bag over his shoulder and turned to leave, but stopped after only a few steps. He turned back around and stuffed a hand in his pocket. "You uh… ever thought about attaching anything to those arrows?"

Isha cocked her head to the side. "Aside from a stronger head? No, not these arrows. That would ruin the balance."

"Ah," he pointed into the air. "Yes, that- I wouldn't have thought of that. Well…" he trailed off, but made no move to leave.

"Why do you ask?"

"I've been toying with some new bomb types," he said. "I've been thinking… Bombs sure would be more useful if I didn't have to get up close and personal to place 'em, you know? But I can't throw for shit, and it's not like you can roll a lit bomb very far without putting out the fuse." He withdrew something from his pocket - some sort of linen pouch. "Then I got to thinking about your arrows. About how fast an archer can load up and fire an arrow at great distances. All you'd need is a bit of powder that explodes under intense contact…"

"Gods, Barnes, you're talking about turning a bow into a handheld cannon at that point," Isha gasped.

He chuckled. "I suppose it's a bit like that, yes. But you see, I didn't even think about the weight of the arrow, or how to make it actually work… I was just thinking you could tie it on and let it fly." He handed her the linen bag. "Handle it carefully - it's not incredibly sensitive but enough pressure will set it off."

Isha weighed the bag in her hand. "I mean, I love the idea, don't get me wrong," she said. "This isn't as heavy as I thought it would be. How strong of an explosion would this make?" she reached behind her back and withdrew one of her arrows. Passing the bag of explosive powder back to Barnes, she began to untie the string binding the arrowhead.

"Something to consider would be the spine of the arrow. You'd need a stronger one to deal with the extra weight at the end, even for a few grams." Isha held up the beheaded arrow, a narrow little thing that was made of a light-colored wood. "These would probably be too light to support much, but a stronger arrow could likely support the extra weight."

"Don't need much of this to at least cause a distraction. You could also go for smoke powder if you ever needed to muddle your enemy's vision."

Isha looked at the bomb shop owner with new eyes. "Barnes… I think we've made a mistake by not chatting sooner."


By the time the afternoon sun was high in the sky, Isha and Barnes had managed to put together some light explosive arrows for Isha to take with her. The pair now stood at his counter once more, having returned shortly after clearing away the spring cave.

The two stood opposite one another, each tinkering with a few varied satchels and powders and arrows. Off to one side, Isha had a small bomb bag that contained not true bombs, but instead various materials to test out with her arrows for later - things like a container of pitch and a box of matches, for flaming arrows that could withstand rushing through the air at great speeds. Also contained within were several small tubes filled with explosive black powder that could be attached to any arrow. The tubes didn't contain enough to cause a damaging blast on their own, but they'd be great for causing confusion.

"I'm honestly surprised you've even offered to help me," Isha said after a while. "I was under the impression that you agreed with the rest of the village regarding violence."

"To tell you the truth, I hadn't given the idea of using bombs in battle any thought until those monsters showed up," Barnes replied. "I've always been in the trading business, always saw these things as tools or weapons for trained soldiers. After I lost that warehouse, though, I got to thinking about how destructive bombs really can be. Not just against inanimate objects, but against monsters, too." He chuckled to himself. "Found myself suddenly understanding why the local teacher had such a fascination with archery. There's a lot to be said for the feeling of being able to protect yourself."

"I hate that it took such a catastrophic event for things around here to change," Isha admitted sadly. "I never wanted this village to witness what happens to people who must rely on someone else to defend them. I… I wanted to teach future generations to find the middle ground between war and peace."

"A pretty ideal." Barnes clicked his tongue. "Boy, all those young'uns sure looked up to you and Luda. They would have learned how to watch paint dry from you, if you told them you thought it was fun."

"They were good kids," her voice fell. "The whole village was full of good people."

The older man gave her a strange look. "Now that's not something I expected to hear from the village troublemaker."

"Why's that?"

"Well you were constantly at odds with everyone's ideals of a peaceful life, you filled the younger kids' minds with dreams of adventures and glorious battles just like your father did to you, and to be honest I wouldn't blame you for holding a grudge against 'em all. If we'd had more fighters, our village may have survived."

"I disagreed, yeah, but I… somewhat understood. Kakariko has long been a place of peace, of rest, of quiet. Who would I be to fault others for wanting to keep things that way? I had my own naive dreams, anyway." Isha began packing away her things. "I really should get going, I've taken quite a bit of your time already."

"Have you been by the general store? I heard they finished fixing it up, and they'll be reopening it soon," Barnes said.

"Hm…" Isha realized she didn't know how to feel about such a thing. It was no longer her mother's store. Likely, it no longer even looked like the same place. Still, she doubted she would ever be able to enter without breaking down. She slung her quiver back over her back and approached the door.

"I'm pretty happy about it," the bomb shop owner continued on, "Shopping at the general store is a simple pleasure I've missed. Should bring some life back to the place."

"Kakariko moves forward," Isha replied as she opened the door, speaking more to herself than to Barnes. "And so will I."


Isha spent the remainder of her time in Kakariko at the headwaters of Eldin's spring, shooting the same targets over and over again as she had for so many years before. She remained in the cave until well after dark each day, avoiding the strangers who now populated her town and were rebuilding it into something she no longer recognized. She did not dare visit the store her mother used to run, and aside from brief check-ins with her boar Kariko, who seemed thrilled to be granted a peaceful existence, she stayed away from the schoolhouse, too.

She didn't even bother to go by and see the few villagers that had survived. Isha wasn't sure she could bear to look at any of them, or take their judgment. She'd still failed to protect them just as much as everyone else.

On her third night in town, Isha returned well past a decent hour, and found the inn to be entirely devoid of activity. She crept silently up the stairs, meaning to head to bed, but stopped when she saw Colin leaving the Zora prince's room.

"Oh, good evening, Colin," she greeted him quietly. "What are you still doing up?"

The young boy looked disheartened. "The prince hasn't woken up, and Ilia still doesn't remember anything…" his crossed arms fell to his side in defeat. "Link would have fixed all of this already."

Despite herself, Isha couldn't help but smile at the young boy. She knelt down and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know it's hard to wait, but I assure you that you're capable of doing more for the both of them right now than Link is. He's got so much on his plate, but you're able to dedicate all your free time to helping around here. Did you know I've heard so many good things about how helpful you've been?"

The young boy looked at her with bright, hopeful eyes. "Really?"

Isha nodded. "That's all I hear about. You're doing great things in your own way, you know? It's okay that things aren't better overnight. Many ailments require time as much as any medicine or potion. You shouldn't keep yourself up all night with worry over the what-ifs."

Colin looked down sheepishly. "I… I couldn't sleep very well," he admitted. "I'm worried about my mom…"

"Well, when I saw her last, she was doing just fine after she heard you were safe. I'm sure she looks forward to hearing all about your adventures here," Isha added with a smile. Rising to her feet, she brushed her hand over his hair. "Now, off to bed, so you have enough energy to keep helping out tomorrow."

He yawned and wished her a good night, turning to a room across the hall. Isha hesitated before heading to her own room, debating checking in on Ilia and Ralis, but decided against it. Colin was not the only one who needed sleep.

Plumbing had returned to the inn the day after Link had left, meaning Isha was finally able to take comforting, hot baths once more. Thanks to the steam vents and lava lakes deep in the canyon walls, there was a strange abundance of hot springs just near the hotel. It had once been a tourist attraction, and still contributed to the Inn's best-rated amenity: hot baths, on demand, in every room.

Though it was a luxury Isha typically reveled in, it did little to ease her mind and dampen the severity of the nightmares that plagued her. Each night she awoke several times, finding herself pitifully wishing she had anyone of comfort to cling to during these times. Her parents, her friends… hell, she'd even take Link, despite their unresolved tension.

She settled for seeking comfort provided by a warm soak in the tub with lavender-scented soaps that had survived the destruction deep in the cellar. The strong, sharp scent was unfamiliar, but quickly growing on her. Isha debated slipping a wrapped soap bar or two into her bag before leaving.

Once the water lost its warmth, she begrudgingly pulled her perpetually-sore body from the deep tub. Despite the steam that lingered within her small bathroom, the chilly night wind was inescapable, even indoors. She dried quickly and slipped into a donated pair of clean pajamas, forced upon her by Luda who insisted Isha stop denying the aid lended to their village.

The young woman braced herself once more for a lonely, tumultuous night.

Her dreams were plagued by sights she could not explain. A particularly repetitive vision involved an ornate sword that appeared to be carved out of the sunlight itself laying amongst golden sand. Fresh blood stained the glittering ground around it. The image was still, and no sound accompanied it - just that strange, bright blade surrounded in blood that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Something in the atmosphere felt oppressive and wrong, though nothing happened to her in these silent moments.

As abruptly as the image would appear, it would disappear and be replaced with other imagery she could not decipher and with memories of horror and gore. Memories of her destroyed town, white plaster and bricks coated in shining blood. Memories of her mother's damaged and broken remains, ripped apart by horrors previously unknown to their world. Memories of her own side, slit open from deadly claws possessed by an abomination that shouldn't be allowed to exist. Memories of piles and piles of dead monsters, their dying screams still haunting her thoughts. These screams mixed with her own, and Isha was jolted awake by her own crying.

Isha sat up and curled her knees to her chest, eyes scanning her dark room. No sounds, no movement. No threats.

Alone. Isha found herself again missing the warmth of Link's presence, a comfort that had been with her since discovering her mother's body. In truth, he was all she felt she had left. She missed the way he hugged her and comforted her and told her things would be okay, even if he didn't know that for certain. All things a proper hero should do, all things a dear friend would do. Isha felt especially cold.

I need to get a grip, the woman chastised herself. I can't keep relying on someone else to make things better. She wiped the tears away from her face and took a few deep breaths to still her pounding heart. Her eyes drifted towards the far window, which was unfortunately placed mere feet away from a towering cliff face, providing very little in the way of scenic views.

Still, it was far less terrifying than her dreams, and therefore a very welcome sight. Isha's mind continued to stay with the Hero, wondering how he was faring up on Death Mountain. Surely, if anyone could reason with the hard-headed, proud Gorons, it would be someone as stubborn and bull-headed as Link.

Unfortunately, the Goron tribe was the least dangerous thing about Death Mountain. The trail itself was treacherous enough, known for rockslides and loose rock that crumbled away under the smallest wrong step. The tremors from the volcano itself were becoming more frequent and more violent. The mountain was waking up, surely. Was it really the best idea to be visiting the Goron capital city - located just below the summit of the volcano- at such a time?

No, surely if he's Goddess-chosen, then he should be fine, Isha reminded herself, shaking away the dark thoughts. He wasn't like the villagers she'd known all her life. Link bore the symbol of the Golden Goddesses, a protected man. Beyond that, he had fighting experience and wielded his sword with grace and skill that Isha had never seen before. Even in the legends and myths she'd read, nothing came close to accurately describing the terrifying beauty in swordplay, when wielded correctly. It was almost as beautiful as the Zora's spearplay.

Isha laid back down, her train of thought quickly derailing towards memories of the days she'd spent training with a staff with her father, recalling old movements and tricks he'd pointed out to her. Surely, she could be just as efficient with her own weapons, some day. Perhaps someone would look at her and see her fighting as something beautiful, something to be revered rather than the silly movements of a child emulating her father.

And even if nobody does, who cares? She thought to herself. For twenty years, such things did not matter. But for twenty years, she had not seen such a large, full world. She had not met such impressive people, whose opinions mattered to her nearly as much as her own parents' once did. Individuals who put their lives on the line by her side, and related to her passions as well as her struggles. For the first time in her life, Isha found herself wanting to fit in with those around her, be like them, rather than avoid them.

Not alone, she reminded herself, thinking of the Zora soldiers, of Link, of Telma and the Ordon kids. Her conversation with Link at the spring days ago was still fresh in her mind. Maybe he really did have a point.

I am not alone, she dared to think once more. If she kept repeating it, then surely someday she would believe it.


Link arrived at the Goron capital city within a day of leaving Kakariko.

The climb up had been nothing short of grueling, especially when it came down to earning the right to pass the many Goron guards that took up posts along the road. They were none too happy to see a Hylian approaching, though they made no effort to explain why they suddenly declared their lands to be off-limits.

In addition to Gorons who were difficult to reason with, Link also found himself dealing with a very obnoxious breed of rock-dwelling insects known as Tektites. The large four-legged creatures packed a nasty bite and used their strong legs to leap across chasms and chase down their prey. They were also known for being territorial, and their sudden increased numbers in the area clearly contributed to the anger of the Gorons.

After agreeing to cull their numbers, though, Link had earned himself an escort up the difficult trail, with the added caveat that he must meet with their four elders upon arrival and earn the right to stay in town.

When he had arrived at the peak, Link and his one Goron escort - who he learned on the way was named Dabu - were joined by three more, who initially threatened to flatten the Hylian for daring to approach them, regardless of what he'd done further down the trail. With some convincing, though, they agreed to show him to the elder's chamber.

It was here that Link would take what he learned from Mayor Bo and pray it would be enough to earn passage into their mines to retrieve the Fused Shadow that rested deep within.

The Gorons, being born of the rocky Earth itself, were an incredibly physically strong people. Their backs were molded with various formations of stone. These formations appeared to be as unique to Gorons as fingerprints were to humans. They had a natural affinity for developing solid muscle, ideal for a race that spent their time climbing cliffs, mining deep within volcanic tunnels, and sumo wrestling for honor. Since they thrived entirely on a diet of rocks, Gorons relied on their sacred mines to feed themselves, as well as to hone their physical strength. Allowing outsiders into such a vital place for their entire race was incredibly uncommon, even when their homelands were open to visitors.

Still, thanks to the Ordon mayor, Link knew that there was one way he could at least win favor with the elders: defeat a Goron challenger in a ceremonial sumo match. This display of blatant strength would prove himself as an equal to the tribe, and only then might they listen to his offer to purge their mines of the dark power that may have been the reason for the Gorons' hostility.

Gor Coron was the sole Goron Elder who greeted Link that evening, and it was from Dabu that Gor Coron learned about Link having cleared out an infestation of tektite close to the main road. Upon hearing this, the elder granted Link a ceremonial match, to be held the next evening at sundown. Until then, Link was given a room at their local tavern, with Dabu assigned to guard the Hylian from the ire of the rest of the tribe. It was, after all, a majority-vote decision to revoke entrance to the city from outsiders. His presence had already ruffled many feathers.

The Hero found very little to keep him occupied during his stay. Though exhausted, his nerves made it difficult to go right to sleep. Death Mountain's summit was also unbearably hot, much to his irritation.

Like being in that damn room in Kakariko all over again, he'd thought bitterly as he tried to force his body to relax. The bed was hard and lumpy, and smelled of moth balls. He wondered when the last time was that they'd had visitors in this area of the caverns.

The following day, Link learned very little about what was going on at the mines, only that all Gorons had been banned from entry until further notice. All information he obtained had to come from Dabu, whose mood was no better the second day than it had been the first. The other Gorons refused to speak to him. Instead, he was at best ignored, and at worst met with jeers wherever they went.

Around midday, Dabu lead Link to the famous Goron Hot Springs, which the hero was none too eager to see, not in this sweltering heat. Unfortunately, he knew he was in no position to complain. At least he wasn't left to his boredom in his room.

"We will stop for lunch at the bar," Dabu said as they neared the springs. "Famous for its diverse menu. It is a local favorite." Link perked up at this. He was rather hungry.

He and Dabu entered the bar, cleverly named "The Cavern Tavern." It was incredibly crowded, and Link wondered how many of the visibly drunken patrons were miners out of a job, desperate for a way to pass the sudden free time they were given. Several Gorons turned and glared at him, the human intruder.

Despite their sour faces, Link was eager to try authentic Goron cuisine. The smell had been tempting him since they'd come within a few feet of the front door. He kept his eyes straight ahead. The Goron people would come around, when he dealt with whatever was keeping them out of the mines.

Dabu and Link took spots at a stone booth in the corner of the room, the Goron sitting with his back to the wall. "Don't mind them, goro," he grumbled, a pointed look cast towards the other restaurant-goers. Eyes quickly darted away, and Link gave his guard a grateful look. "Rumors are quite the beast."

The hero's eyebrows raised. "Rumors?"

Dabu remained quiet, studying the Hylian in front of him. The boy certainly didn't appear to be anything special, aside from his near unbelievable drive to help for seemingly nothing in return. "Details are slim," he finally said. "Gorons fill in the blanks with their own ideas. Many blame Hylian tourists for our troubles." He shook his head.

"You don't agree?"

Before the conversation could continue, a massive bowl thundered down onto the table. Dabu chucked a few rupees towards the server, who bowed curtly before rolling back towards the kitchen.

Within the serving bowl, thin strips of seasoned meat were draped across the steaming rocks that filled the bottom of the bowl, grease still sizzling and popping. Strong spices filled Link's nose, and he thought he might drool a river right there. The heat from the smell alone had his eyes watering.

Dabu observed the Hylian's hungry eyes and couldn't help but chuckle. "Dig in, little human. Boar tenderloin coated in Goron Spice and oil and slow-roasted using the natural steam vents. Sage and rosemary, too, for a little extra flavor" He was grinning, his white teeth nearly blinding. "My brother only makes the best."

Link barely registered the heat burning his fingertips, so eager he was to try these new flavors. He wasted no time in shoving the entire strip into his mouth. Spice and heat and the unmistakable gamey taste of fresh-hunted meat flooded over his mouth.

"Gods, that's amazing," he mumbled through his mouthful.

Dabu released a hearty laugh, reaching for one of the rocks and plopping it into his mouth. "You are crazy, goro. Eat slow, it will not run away."

Link quickly gulped down a glass of water that had been neglected so far. The heat was persistent. "I've never had anything like this."

"You'll only find it here, in Goron City," replied the Goron proudly. "A fitting reward for those brave enough to climb Death Mountain's trails."

Link wasted no further time on conversation, his appetite for this wildly seasoned dish insatiable. Between him and Dabu, the bowl was empty in minutes.

Their shared lunch served to finally break the ice between the pair, and Dabu spent the afternoon showing Link around Goron City and providing stories of his own experiences. Though accompanied by a smiling Goron, Link was still met with untrusting glares everywhere they went. He tried not to let it kill his mood. It was nothing personal, he reminded himself.

While walking through the commercial district, Dabu suddenly stopped outside a particular shop and pointed to Link. "That wooden shield won't do you much good up here, you know," he said.

He'd hardly given such a thing a second thought, but if he hoped to traverse Death Mountain, he would be stupid not to consider his one bit of defensive equipment. "Shit, you're right…"

The Goron chuckled and nodded towards a metal shield that was currently displayed in the open window. "Rubo owns this place," he continued. "A great brother, he likes to haggle, goro. Might even give you somethin' for that old shield, if you ask nicely."

Link gave his new companion a grateful smile and followed him into the shop.

"A human, Dabu?" came a gravelly voice from behind the front counter. A massive Goron with skin the color of red clay was leaning against the back wall. His crossed arms were covered in swirling tattoos inked in white, the same color as the bushy eyebrows that rested above emerald eyes. His face betrayed no emotion. "You always bring the strangest things into my store."

"He took care of that tektite infestation out by the geyser field," replied Dabu, slamming his fist down on the hard stone countertop. "Show some respect, he's wrestlin' the old man tonight."

Rubo rolled his eyes and looked down at Link. "You bring a wooden shield on a trip up an active volcano, and plan to wrestle an elder Goron?" The shop walls shook with his laughter. "What a crazy human, goro!"

"I'd call it determined," countered the hero as he picked up the iron shield from its stand. Its front was decorated with the Hylian crest, shining gold paint cutting through the dark blue backdrop. He brushed his hands over the engravings. "Let's talk business."


During the entire trip, Midna did not deign Link worthy of further conversation. Even when the hero returned to his chambers to rest before his sumo match, she refused to speak. She appeared only once, an hour before he was to face the Goron elder, to grant him the iron boots and iron wrist braces that Bo had lent him back in Ordon. According to the mayor, these items were blessed to increase the strength of their wearer, and would allow him to overcome the sheer weight of his Goron opponents, somehow without breaking any of his bones.

This wasn't cheating, Link had been assured. The Gorons respected Bo for his use of the devices. Link decided it wasn't for him to understand.

He arrived at the sumo ring right on time, still escorted by Dabu. At the Goron's direction, Link stood at one side of the ring and waited for the Elder to take his place. The sumo ring was incredibly simple: a slightly raised stage, two stairs on opposite sides and two red lines parallel to one another at the center indicating where the fighters would stand at the start.

Around the ring stood a crowd of Gorons of all ages, heads adorned with corded ceremonial headbands and stomping their feet in rhythm. Their chanting voices rumbled the empty stone room around them, their words lost in the cacophony. On the bare earth walls behind them, cloth squares shook as though even they were affected by the energetic air. Upon these cloth pieces were the handprints of countless Goron tribe members, each one a past victor of matches in this ring, Link learned from Dabu. It was the only decoration in this room.

Beyond the door at the far end lay the mines the hero aimed to enter. An enormous iron bar was set across it. Link supposed it would take at least four Hylian men to move such a massive object.

The elder Gor Coron slowly made his way into the ring, his aging and wrinkled body concealing the brute strength that lay beneath. Even an elderly, "weak" Goron could crush a Hylian with his bare hands with ease. This one hardly looked weak. His dark eyes studied Link, lingering slightly on the boots and braces he wore. His expression said nothing of his thoughts regarding these accessories.

A Goron standing in the audience struck a gong, and the chanting and stomping ceased immediately. The silence was nearly as deafening as the chants.

"You have a strong will and sharp eyes, young warrior," Gor Coron commented, stopping at the top of the stairs into the ring.

Link rolled his shoulders. "Allow me to put these skills to use for your benefit then," he repeated his request from the day before. "I can take care of what has plagued your mines."

Gor Coron smirked. "These mines are sacred to my tribe. Outsiders are not allowed." He took a step forward into the ring. "I could, however, make an exception for a worthy friend of Bo. If you cannot defeat me, it would be foolish to think you could survive the mines."

They took their places at the center of the ring, face-to-face. Link stomped his foot in a formal challenge. His ankle shook with the pain of striking the rock hard ground, but he kept his face neutral. Gor Coron returned the gesture.

"Ready…" the referee called from the edge of the ring. Both fighters took a squatting stance, knuckles on the ground.

"Fight!"

Neither moved at first, both sizing each other up. When he'd practiced wrestling with Bo, the mayor always went immediately on the offensive, leaving Link to favor a defensive starting position. This hesitation did not go unnoticed by the Goron elder.

Gor Coron lunged, feigning to grab Link from the left before pivoting with startling speed. His arms crashed into the Hero's sides, Link playing right into the trap. The air was squeezed from his lungs, and his vision shook.

Link's boots scraped along the rocky floor, a horrible sound that was quickly drowned out by triumphant cheers from their audience. He was losing ground, despite his enhancements. The edge of the ring loomed ever closer.

With great effort, Link dug his heels in and grabbed the arms that were clenched around his midsection. He let out a cry of triumph as the braces' strength kicked in and Gor Coron's grip loosened. Link took greedy gulps of air, his lungs aching but eagerly taking in the oxygen. He shoved back, sending his opponent off balance. Link took his moment to pull back his left arm and let loose a hard punch to the elder's solid jaw. His knuckles cracked on impact, but he didn't waste a second in wrapping his own arms around the Goron and shoving him back.

He managed to push Gor Coron back to the center of the ring before the elder escaped Link's grip. He tried to push Link back, but the Hero stood strong, anchoring his feet to the ground once more. The two remained locked in this power struggle.

Sweat poured from Link's brow, but the elder seemed hardly phased. The heat of the volcano threatened to sap even the strength lent to him by the iron braces. The hero hoped against all logic that he would be able to overcome the Goron in front of him.

Link jerked back suddenly, the Goron elder falling off balance at the sudden shift in weight. Link used the opening to once more push against his opponent's core. The other side of the ring was growing closer, the cheering audience erupting as they were swept up in the action. Their cries shook the very mountain itself.

The hero's heart was pounding in his ears, his shoulders and back aching with the effort it took to stand against an experienced Sumo wrestler. The elder tried to throw a punch, but Link ducked and pushed his shoulder into the Goron's stomach. He gained another few inches, still resisting the elder's struggles.

Gor Coron lifted his face to the Hero's and gave a strange smile. Before Link could even consider the strange look, the elder Goron straightened up, breaking loose of their locked arms as though it were nothing, and took a single step backwards.

Over the edge of the ring.

Link's arms fell limply to his side. The rambunctious crowd quieted instantly, and the silence was somehow even more oppressive than the heated atmosphere. Did I do something wrong? He looked around, but the stoic Goron expressions around him betrayed nothing.

"I've seen enough," the elder spoke at last. "You will need your strength for the trials ahead. I concede this match. The Hylian Link will be granted the opportunity to visit our sacred mines."

Again, the cheering Gorons threatened to bring the entire volcano down around them. Stomping feet, clapping hands, and booming voices filled the air. Link's heart was racing, confused but grateful that he would not have to risk his ribs in another second of the sumo match. He felt lucky that none of them appeared to be broken already.

Gor Coron turned towards the mine entrance and gestured for Link to follow. As he stepped forward, Midna discreetly stole away Link's braces and boots. The hero nearly tripped from the sudden shift in weight.

"You have a strong will, tiny human," the elder mused. "And I would be remiss to not recognize the same iron reinforcements that Bo of Ordon once used. So, you really wish to put your skills to use for us?"

Link nodded. "I think I know the cause of your problems," he replied. They stopped in front of the mine door.

Gor Coron chuckled and shook his head. "I felt you might, goro. I can see that you are no ordinary human. Who am I to ignore one marked by the gods?"

Gor Coron's eyes darted to Link's right hand, and the Hero felt a flash of mild irritation. Until he entered the Twilight Realm, the strange birthmark had never done anything for him, never stood for anything. It was not this birthmark that risked its life every day, so why did everyone act like the mark was what made him worthy?

Gor Coron gestured for two guards standing nearby to step back, and give them room to talk. The pair stopped in front of the massive mine entrance.

"We have a treasure that was entrusted to us by the spirits, and we must protect it, goro," the Goron continued on. "You must understand, these mines are not only our source of food, but also a resting place for that terrible power. When the mountain began to rage, us four elders and Darbus, our patriarch, went in to find the source of the mountain's anger. We knew we could not risk any harm coming to this artifact.

"We reached the treasure chamber, and Darbus went to touch the treasure… But the moment he touched it, everything went wrong. He collapsed, and before our very eyes transformed into an unspeakable monster, goro!" This last statement was said in a hushed whisper, the elder's bright blue eyes constantly darting about to make sure he was not heard by his brothers.

"He has been raging through the mines ever since, and the eruptions have grown even more frequent…We've had to seal him deep inside the mountain. It grieved us greatly to do this to our patriarch, and only us elders know of what is really going on. The rest of the elders are deep in the mines, holding on to pieces of the dungeon key. You must speak with each one directly, it is the only way we could ensure that Darbus would remain hidden. Do you understand, goro? We cannot bear to run our patriarch's pride through the mud…"

Link nodded solemnly. "Of course I understand. I will do everything I can to save Darbus."

The elder smiled and turned to one of the bigger Gorons next to him. "Give him the heat tag"

A large cut of fabric was passed to the hero, who looked to the elder for explanation. The cloth was cold to the touch and adorned with a red-painted handprint that clearly came from a massive Goron.

"Our ancestors used to make entire sets of armor meant to protect non-Gorons against the fiery atmosphere of Death Mountain. These days, we'd rather focus on mining resources and dealing in hospitality, goro, and heat tags are far quicker to make. You can't go dipping your toes in the lava, but it will keep you from wilting in the heat."

"Thank you," Link bowed and wrapped the tag around his belt. Almost instantly, the heat of the cavern disappeared, and his breaths felt less stifled. It filled him with renewed energy.

Gor Coron gestured to the two Gorons standing by the mine entrance, who moved to unbar the entryway. "Go now, and keep your wits about you. Monsters are running rampant throughout the mines, and we haven't been able to get around to repair things in the deeper parts of the mine. Tread lightly. We will eagerly await your return, goro."

With a bow, the elder Goron took a few steps back, and Link turned to walk into the fiery hell that was the Goron Mines.


News of the repaired bridge to Castle Town came to Kakariko along with another caravan of construction materials and fresh hands to assist with labor. Isha had been sitting out on the front porch finishing off her breakfast - a bowl of warm oatmeal - when the wagons passed by. Strangers whose names she still had yet to learn burst from the front door as if beckoned, immediately flagging down the three wagons and directing them over to the stables.

Every new face made Isha's heart ache a little more. She never thought she would miss the familiar comfort of the villagers she'd known all her life. Nobody asked her for help, nobody chastised her for wasting the day "playing" with her bow. The newcomers who came from unknown parts of Hyrule hardly noticed her. She was barely more than just another poor displaced villager in their eyes, her adventures and actions unknown to them. They gave her pitying smiles, if any at all, and otherwise hardly noticed as she drifted about the town that she once called home.

Isha was so lost in her thoughts of days past that she failed to notice when Renado sat down on the top step next to her.

"How have you been?" his question startled her.

"Oh, um…" she gave him a cautious look. "Fine, I guess."

"I hear you and Barnes had quite the time the other day."

The corner of Isha's mouth twitched. She missed many things about her life in the village, but she did not miss the way that Renado constantly tried to act as a father figure to her. He had that tone again, the tone of a father trying to make amends with his fussy daughter. It made her stomach curl. "He just helped me clear out some rocks. I can't imagine that's why you've come to bother me."

"It's strangely comforting to know that not even these tragic events have been able to quash your spirit," he replied with amusement.

Isha scowled, but the shaman extended his hand, holding something she had somehow missed before. It was a long, thick staff, finished in a deep stain that made the gnarled wood nearly black under the shadow of the porch awning. One end of the staff was adorned with shining, jagged rocks that were as black as coal. Renado did not miss her sudden shift in posture as she beheld the weapon. He held the staff out from the shade to give her a better look. The sunlight created rainbows within the jewels, and in the better light Isha could see the beautiful detail of the wood grain.

"Is this the stick that's been up your ass this whole time?" The words slipped from her lips before Isha could really consider them. She immediately regretted the words; she didn't want to start an argument.

Renado, though no stranger to her outbursts, choked back a surprised laugh. "And here I thought we had made peace."

"Sorry," was all she could mumble.

"Perhaps I deserved it," he replied. "This staff is an heirloom of our village. Its history has been reduced to legends, as it has been in our possession since Kakariko was founded. It's said it was created for and wielded by a member of the Royal Family's personal guard, which would make it of Sheikah origin. It has… been collecting dust for many generations now."

Her heart skipped a beat. Isha's knowledge of the Sheikah was limited at best, as there were little in-depth records of the Sheikah Tribe. They were either servants or personal guards of the Hylian Royal Family - depending on the source - who lived and worked in the shadows. Before the race had disappeared entirely, they wiped out a significant portion of their technology, their inventions, and their culture. Books were burned, art was destroyed or defaced, weaponry was disposed of or buried with its wielders. So thorough were their efforts of erasure that centuries of history and progress were lost along with them.

If this staff was truly of Sheikah origin, it would have intentionally been left behind. It was an incredibly valuable relic. Collecting dust. Isha considered taking the weapon and striking Renado and all his predecessors over the head for abandoning such a priceless artifact. "What led you to bring it here?"

He rolled the staff around in his hand. "In recent years, this weapon has only seen one battle. It was a… rather pathetic one, I must admit. But even after years of disuse, it proved its worth as a strong weapon, and I feel it needs a strong warrior to wield it properly." His eyes met hers. "I suppose I am a sham of a leader, unable to adhere to my own ideals. When we saw you fall before those monsters, I was incapable of standing by idly. If you will have it, I want you to take this staff of Kakariko, and use it to save others as you did the Ordon children, and as you did us."

Isha's eyes burned, and she tried to imagine the tall Shaman standing awkwardly, the old weapon unfamiliar in his hands as he stared down monsters that even she fell to. She barely believed such words, and her eyes searched his for any semblance of sarcasm, any sign that he was lying. Why would he bother lying about such a thing?

She again regretted her earlier sharp words. "Stop it," she said. "I did not save–"

"But you did," the shaman insisted, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You saved those children, you did. And when you stood and faced those monsters without fear, you saved us from ourselves. It was with this weapon that I was able to reach you and bring you back. This weapon gave me the ability to protect the sanctuary, and all of us within. Surely, you didn't think the monsters simply ignored us, did you?"

Isha realized she had barely given such a thing a second thought. "How?" she asked in disbelief. The Shadow Beasts terrified even the experienced Zora soldiers, yet this irritating man had held them off?

"Regardless of whether or not this weapon was wielded by someone with Royal connections, it really is a good weapon," he replied. Renado extended the staff to her. "I believe that Kakariko's only surviving fighter deserves to wield it. It would do its creators, whoever they were, a far better honor than remaining buried in a basement."

The young woman was dumbfounded, unable to believe her ears. Unable to believe that such a simple weapon could hold off those horrendous beasts she had seen outside the spring, all those weeks ago. She brushed her thumb along the smooth wood, marveling at how easily it fit into her hands.

Nothing about the staff seemed incredibly special or unusually powerful, yet supposed it held Shadow Beasts at bay, and was supposedly made by a mysterious lost culture. Isha found herself eager to put it to use.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her free hand. Had she always been so readily emotional? "I really don't know what to say," she said. "Are you sure that I'm not violating some sacred law by taking this?"

Renado laughed and rose to his feet. "As I said, I feel there is none more fitting for such a weapon. Your father always enjoyed fighting with the staff, you know."

The mere mention of her father from him dampened Isha's mood instantly. A shame Renado did not pick up the staff sooner. Perhaps both her parents would still be around. "Yeah…"

"Go, and put your skills to use for Hyrule," he said, stepping down the stairs. "This village has held you back for long enough. I don't want to see you back here until you've been to all the provinces of Hyrule, at the very least."

The young woman knew his encouraging words were intended to be his way of atoning for his part in ridiculing her passions, but she could only muster annoyance at his words. "With any luck, you'll never see me back here again."

He appeared as unphased by her mood as ever, lifting a hand in farewell before leaving Isha alone on the front steps once more.

The young woman looked once more at the staff that he'd given her. She gave it a few twirls, happy with the way its weight shifted in her hands. The jagged black stones at the top felt sharp to the lightest touch, much to Isha's surprise. It would certainly rip through skin and fabric with ease, if swung properly. Still, she couldn't imagine how it could hold up against beasts with the strength to fell buildings.

Let's hope I don't break this one.

"Well, that's a rather fancy thing," came Telma's cheerful voice from behind her. Isha spun to see the barkeep carrying several bags over her shoulders. "You ready to get movin', honey?"

"Gods, yes," replied the Kakarikan woman. "Let me grab my stuff from my room."