The moon had long risen over the village, though its moonlight was mostly obscured by the darkened clouds that slowly traversed through the sky. Because of this, the only lights that kept Hateno illuminated—besides the glowing blue shrine that sat near the mountain wall— were the glowing yellow windows of people's homes. As the night continued, these specks of light darkened and went out. Soon, the village had practically vanished into the shadows of the mountains surrounding it. Despite the late hours, one building remained illuminated. Sitting away from the rest of the village, up the winding path and on the mountain peak, was the tech lab. Though it was a dim light, if the villagers below didn't know any better, some would have confused it for a fallen piece of a shooting star. Inside the building, the two researchers that occupied its walls were still awake and working.

Sitting at the table in the center of the room was the large, older researcher, who was stroking his short, graying beard as he diligently flipped through the pages of a thick, ancient-looking book. In one of the corners, a much smaller researcher, dressed in her usual frilly skirt, was standing on top of a chair, facing a much smaller desk in the corner. With her strange, technological goggles on, she carefully worked on a small device with a pair of even smaller tools in hand. It was at times like these that she appreciated having her tiny hands, seeing how they allowed her to work on such delicate projects with ease.

The two had been sitting in silence for some time, with each completely absorbed in their individual tasks. It was so quiet, all that could be heard in the room was the occasional light tap of the girl's tools, or the rhythmic scratching of paper whenever the man turned a page. Even the crickets, who were chirping outside in the darkness of the grass, could be heard from inside. Though it was peaceful, it wasn't long before the little girl spoke up and broke the hushed atmosphere.

"Symin, I think it's about time you snapped that book closed and got some rest," she said without looking up from her device. Symin, who couldn't look up as well, simply shook his head.

"Sorry, Director, but I can't stop here," he said, flipping another page. "After this, I have two more books on the following subject I need to complete. It'll help with my study on the transitional process our ancestors used to liquefy information—"

"Which is something that can be put on hold until tomorrow morning," she said, cutting her apprentice off. "You're not as young as you used to be. You need to get proper rest."

"You're not that young yourself, Director," Symin said, looking up from behind his spectacles.

"You can say that when I return to my proper state," the director replied before adding, "trust me, I wish I could go and shut my eyes for a bit, but unfortunately, this body gives me more energy than I know what to do with. I'll be heading to bed soon after, but please be mindful of your health while working under me."

"You know, now that I think about it," Symin said as he closed his book and set it on the table. "If memory serves me right, this is the first time you've ever considered one's health when it comes to work such as ours. Usually, you'd have no problem working someone to the bone to get something done. May I ask what brings on the sudden change?"

The apprentice braced himself, ready to be verbally reprimanded for questioning the director's orders. While she looked young, there still was a soul much older than his own in there, and regardless of who it was, she did not like being questioned. Yet, the little girl remained quiet while she continued to work on her little device. This was unusual behavior from her, someone who was usually so eager to learn as much as she could as quickly as possible. Symin opened his mouth to speak, ready to apologize regardless of her silence, but before he could, she spoke up.

"Rest is important," she said as her fingers worked, "at least, when one rests properly, that is. If you don't, you'll end up… Well—"

"Like Link?" Symin asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He is definitely a recent example, yes," she answered.

The two sat in silence for a moment before Symin nodded and pushed himself up from his chair. He took his book from the table and walked to the back of the room where one of the many stuffed bookshelves sat near the back door. After returning the book to his place, he reached for the door handle before looking back at the little researcher at her desk.

"What happened with Link and the Divine Beast isn't your fault, Director Purah," he said.

"Of course it's not," Purah answered, again without looking back, "but, regardless, it's always been our duty to learn and improve. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I see," Symin replied with a smile. "Good night, Director."

Accepting her nod as a reply, he pulled on the door handle and disappeared from the room.

For the next few hours, Purah silently worked on her own, only setting down her tools to occasionally adjust her goggles before finally taking them off entirely.

"That should be enough for today," she said, setting them on the table as she brought her regular red-framed glasses down from her large hair bun. "Even with this young body, I also better get some rest."

After organizing her small tools enough for them not to be lost in the mess of papers that covered the room, she jumped down from the chair she'd stood on. With more difficulty than she'd like to admit— even to herself— she began to push a chair around the room in order to blow out each of the lanterns that dotted the walls. Before she could turn out the last candle, one that sat in the center of the table Symin had been sitting at, a knock echoed through the room. Furrowing her brow, she looked over at the door. She paused for a moment before rubbing her eye, insisting that it was just her lack of sleep playing tricks on her. Yet, when she made to blow out the candle for the second time, the knock echoed again.

"It's absolutely impossible that someone created a logical explanation for appearing this late in the evening, especially if they aren't Link," she mumbled as she jumped off the chair.

She walked over to the double doors and pulled one open to reveal a familiar woman standing behind them. With an awkward smile, she waved.

"H-hello—" she managed to get out before the door slammed in her face. "Oh, please, Purah? I swear it's important!"

Purah stood behind the door as she brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Go home, Zelda," she growled in her high-pitched voice. "Do you realize how late it is? Or rather–more accurately— how early in the morning it is?"

"I know, I apologize, truly!" her visitor said from behind the door. "But, it's about Link!"

"I would have been more surprised if it wasn't," Purah sighed. "Is he home?"

"Y-yes?"

"Then you can check in with me tomorrow," she shot back. "Good night, Zelda."

With that, Purah made to step away from the door, yet the pleas continued.

"Purah, please!" Zelda continued. "I… I can't sleep, because of it, and I have work tomorrow! I need to know what it is I'm supposed to do!"

Purah stayed silent, though she had begun tapping her foot vigorously against the floorboards. She folded her arms, puffing her cheeks out in resistance.

"Please, I… I'm lost."

The little girl clenched her fingers into the poofy sleeves of her clothing as her tapping escalated to a silent stamp on the ground before finally, she stopped and let out a quiet sigh. Allowing every ounce of her annoyance to show on her face, she opened the door to reveal Zelda once more.

"If this isn't important, I'm banning you from the tech lab," she said, "and I will not be afraid to snap at you."

Zelda simply smiled.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

After giving her a threatening glare, Purah turned on her heel and walked back to the dimly lit table, allowing Zelda to step inside and close the door behind her. Surprisingly, the little girl actually walked past the table as her visitor took a seat in one of the chairs.

"So, what is it?" Purah asked, walking to one of the counters against the wall. It took a moment for Zelda to realize that, under the mess of papers and Sheikah parts, there actually was a kitchen area under it all.

"I… Well…" Zelda mumbled. She rested her arms on the table and began to play with her fingers. "I… I think Link went to the Gerudo Desert."

"You think, or you know?" Purah asked as she found two cups inside the cabinets.

"I… think," Zelda answered.

"Did you confront Linky about it?"

"I tried, but he didn't give me a definitive answer," she explained. "Still, I feel as though he went to try and gather information on the Yiga."

"As much as I know you believe he should stay home, I can't help but admit that—logically speaking— something like that isn't the worst idea," Purah replied as she pulled out a small pot.

"Purah, he can't be making decisions like that! Especially without telling me about them," Zelda complained as she watched the little girl find two bottles of water.

"So, you're upset that he did something without telling you, then?" she asked as she filled the pot with water.

"No– I mean, y-yes… But, that's not the point—" Zelda began but Purah quickly cut her off.

"It definitely sounds like it's the point," she said as she carried the pot of water to the wall next to her. Near the floor against the base of the wall was a pair of small double doors. She opened them to reveal a small oven, which she placed the pot of water inside before closing the doors back. "Zelda, as much as I condemn how Linky is currently handling his Yiga situation, I've told you before that you can't control everything he does."

"But, that's the thing, Purah," Zelda said. "He's not handling it well, at all. Just the day before he pelted a traveler so hard with a snowball he practically knocked them off their feet simply because he didn't recognize them."

"That's the only reason he gave?" Purah asked, folding her arms as she kept an eye on the wall furnace doors.

"That's the only reason he has," Zelda insisted, something that made the researcher lift her brow. "Purah, we both know there isn't a Yiga here. He claims to have seen him, but no one else in this village has."

"Correction: you claim to know that there isn't a Yiga here," Purah replied, turning to face her. "I don't know anything for certain when it comes to this."

"What do you mean?" Zelda asked, furrowing her brow. "You remember what happened with Link and his Divine Beast, don't you?"

"I do, and I also recognize that I reacted emotionally at the time," Purah said. "I'm not saying there is a Yiga here, but I'm also not saying there isn't. I haven't had to deal with a Yiga in decades, ever since I moved here, at least. Maybe we should consider that it's possible Link sees something that we don't."

"So you're saying he's thinking through things clearly?" Zelda asked.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," Purah said again.

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that, while Link may not be in the best mindset, he's still the one that has more experience in situations like these than either of us have, combined," the researcher explained. "He may simply notice things that we don't, Zelda, and it sounds like you aren't exactly keen on hearing him out."

"I'm not keen on hearing him out because he hasn't given me a reason to," Zelda huffed. "He's been lying to me, Purah. I know he went to the desert—"

"I remember you stating that you thought he went to the desert," Purah poked.

"I have more reason to believe that he did, rather than didn't," Zelda responded.

"And what reason is that?" Purah asked, now pushing her thick, poofy sleeves over her little hands.

"Because a statue told me that he can sense when Link is and isn't around," Zelda explained.

"Excuse me?" Purah asked as she turned around and carefully reopened the furnace to reveal the small flames and pot of now boiling water. "Who told you what?"

"The statue, the one that sits just outside the village, let it slip that he can sense when Link's essence isn't around," Zelda continued as she watched the little girl pull the pot out from the furnace and onto the countertop. "It said that out of spite because it was angry that Link stopped a deal between myself and it, but now I can't imagine it being anything other than true."

"A statue that— Do you mean the Horned Statue?" Purah asked, turning her head to look at Zelda. "The big, old one with the two horns and weird hunch-back wings?"

"Is that its proper name?" Zelda replied.

"That's what we here in Hateno call it, but if I remember correctly, statues don't talk," Purah said as she turned back to the counter and began digging around for ingredients.

"It does talk," Zelda insisted. "In fact, if you pray to it, it'll make a deal with you that changes the balance between your physical and spiritual being. Link actually saved me from losing my Sealing Powers to it yesterday."

"Zelda, you're the first person to ever tell me that the old creepy statue— sitting out there in the wild covered in dirt and poop— can talk and apparently even has the special power to change what I can only conclude is to be your soul," Purah said as she pulled out a few leaves. "No one has ever heard that thing speak."

"I'm telling the truth," Zelda said. "You act as if it's a far-fetched concept that oddities like a statue can talk."

"It is a far-fetched concept," Purah claimed.

"It's not; the Great Deku Tree is a prime example," Zelda pressed.

"The Great Deku Tree is a deity spirit that has guarded the forest under the command of the goddess long before time could properly be recorded," the researcher said as she placed the leaves in the still steaming water. She then carried it back to the furnace and placed it back in. "It also has a mouth."

"The statue had a mouth," Zelda said.

"Did it move?" Purah asked.

"N-no… I heard its voice inside my head," Zelda mumbled. After receiving a glance in criticism, she added, "it's most likely because of my powers! You know they come with strange benefits, so why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you sound completely illogical and incoherent," Purah said. "You haven't given me a definitive reason to believe a word you say."

"I'm sorry, but I find giving you a reason a bit difficult since I'm the only person in this land who has powers such as these," Zelda explained, "besides Link when he has the Master Sword."

"That's intriguing. Do you want to know why?" Purah asked. After receiving a nod in confirmation, she said, "it's intriguing because— as I've stated earlier— Linky is the only one who truly understands how the Yiga operates, besides possibly the Gerudo, and yet, you're insistent that there isn't anything going on."

"That's different," Zelda argued. "I'm not the only one who can hear the statue. Link can as well. Yet, strangely enough, he is— from what I've gathered— the only person who can see this Yiga, someone who I too have met and gone against."

"So, you've beaten a Yiga in a fight then?" Purah asked.

"N-no…" Zelda mumbled, instinctively raising her hand to her neck where the Yiga had grabbed and thrown her during their last encounter. "But thanks to our last encounter, I believe if he were truly here, then he would have attacked by now."

"I'm not sure, Zelda," Purah said, turning back to the furnace to pull the pot back out. "The Yiga aren't always so straightforward."

"This one is. I don't think he's here."

Purah didn't immediately respond. She placed the pot back onto the counter before reaching back into the cabinets to pull out a wooden hand strainer. Picking up the pot and holding the strainer under it, she poured the hot beverage into both cups.

"Do you like honey in your tea?" she asked.

Zelda nodded, to which Purah took a small spoon and scooped some honey from a honeycomb she had pulled out earlier. She added it to one of the cups and stirred before she took a few wild berries in hand and added their juices to the other cup. Once done, she took the cups in hand and walked over to where Zelda sat before holding the honey-mixed one up to her.

"Thank you," Zelda said, taking the cup in hand. With a nod, Purah walked to the opposite side of the table before climbing to stand on a chair.

"I believe you said you came seeking advice," she said, after taking a sip of her tea, "yet, all you've done is dig your heels in and defend your stance. What kind of advice were you looking for?"

"Purah, Link isn't well enough to go out and try and investigate the Yiga," Zelda insisted. "You didn't see him during the trials. I know I keep bringing them up, but it's true. I need a way to keep Link here so he can heal."

"If that's what you're looking for, then I can't help you," Purah put simply.

"But, Purah—"

"I can't, Zelda," Purah said. "Link is an adult and his own person. It's one thing to try and help him, but you're trying to do this by controlling him, and that just can't be done."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Zelda asked quietly.

"I told you before, I'm not a researcher in psychological research," the little girl answered, "so, the only logical explanation I can come up with is that you just need to be there for him."

"That's what everyone says, but it's not working," Zelda mumbled. "It's not like I'm waiting for him to tell me what's wrong like before when he tried to hide what the trials showed him. I know what's wrong and I know how to fix it, and if he would just listen to me, then he'd be okay."

"Then, I don't know what else to tell you," Purah said. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry for coming by this late," Zelda said quietly, lowering her head. "I just… I don't know what to do. I just want Link to get better. I know what it's like to live with so much anxiety, to feel like there's something that could pop out at you during every passing moment of the day… But, he doesn't have to live like that."

Purah frowned, but she didn't respond to what Zelda had said. Instead, she let out a loud sigh.

"You know, this village used to be a lot quieter," Purah complained. "It's why I chose to set up my lab here. Yet, the moment you two arrive, it feels as though there's a snap every day. I haven't felt this tired since the Age of Burning Fields."

"The Age of Burning Fields?" Zelda repeated. "Leop at the inn mentioned something like that. What is it?"

"It figures no one ever told you," Purah said, before finishing her tea. "My sister might condemn me for telling you, but someone will have to, eventually. The Age of Burning Fields is the time period immediately after the snout-cloud was sealed away inside the castle, along with you. I'm sure you remember the flames and destruction that occurred after Ganon appeared, yes?"

Zelda nodded.

"Well, after you locked yourself and the beast away, those flames didn't simply vanish. For years the fields burned, and monsters stayed strong, settling in the remains of the central towns. It was dangerous, even here in Hateno. The reason my sister, Robbie, and I split up was because monsters repeatedly attacked, not only our home in Kakariko, but settlements like Hateno, as well.

"Even once the attacks began to die down, things weren't exactly easy. Monsters were still at large in Central Hyrule, so trade and travel were practically impossible, especially with the roaming guardians and skywatchers. The remaining Hylians at the time, those who had survived the initial attack and had evacuated to Hateno thanks to you and Link, almost starved to death. We only survived thanks to those brave enough to scavenge food and other materials down in the remains of civilization in Hyrule Field and surrounding areas. It took years before we could properly become self-sustainable in agriculture."

"...then there's no way…" Zelda murmured.

"What was that?" Purah asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of all those Link managed to protect in order to escape to Hateno," Zelda said a bit louder. "If they were struggling so much… and considering how many of them there were, and yet how small our population is now… Not everyone he saved managed to survive, did they?"

Purah paused, debating whether or not she should be completely honest. After a light sigh, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No. While the Age of Burning Fields wasn't long enough to be considered its own era, it was long enough for many to die out in either starvation or by risking their lives for food and other ingredients. It wasn't until many years passed did we find anything we could call normal."

"I see… May I ask a selfish question?" Zelda asked. Purah gestured in approval. "W-what did… the survivors think about my father and me?"

"I didn't anticipate that kind of question," Purah said, showing just a hint of surprise. "It's unlike you."

"Leop of the inn mentioned something in passing when… um… when he was giving me some advice, if I remember correctly," Zelda said, thinking back to her incident with Joute's horse. "Something about what his parents thought, and with how old he is, well…"

She was unable to finish, but it was clear Purah had already put together her reasoning.

"I'll be blunt with you— Not very many people were praising the king's efforts… or even yours if being honest," she said. "Obviously, they were ignorant. They didn't know the true stress the Calamity had put upon either you or your father. The gossip mongers of the time didn't help, but the true blow was all they had witnessed. The only one they could really appreciate was Link since he was the one who guided them, but even then… Unlike the rest of the races, the Hylians champion and their leaders weren't seen in such a positive light, and it didn't help while people were homeless and starving."

"Right…" Zelda said quietly. "That isn't much of a surprise. A part of me knew, but… "

She grew quiet as her eyes began to gloss over in thought.

"Look—" Purah began to say, but Zelda had already begun shaking her head.

"It's alright, Purah," she said. "I know: It's not my fault, right? So many have told me that before, and yet—"

"If you'd let me finish, I wasn't going to say that," Purah said spitefully. "I know, regardless of what anyone says, that little bit of guilt you have will never go away, and it would be pointless for me to add to the pile of what you've already heard. What I was goooooooing to say, is that while most may have thought negatively back then, the recent generations, not blinded by horrors, see things a bit differently. Sure, some still may seem resentful, but others do know and appreciate what you, your father, and Link did back then."

"I still let everyone down," she said. "I let my people back then down, and they knew. They must've felt so abandoned."

"And that's a thought that you may have to wrestle with for the rest of your life, but you can't let it bring you down," Purah said frankly. Zelda simply nodded.

"I don't want to let anyone else down…" she said quietly. "I can't lose anything more… I can't lose Link."

"Then I suggest you really try and figure out what the next step is for you two," Purah said, taking her empty cup in hand before jumping down from the chair she stood on, "but that isn't something you'll figure out tonight, so finish your tea, and then go home. It's too late to be dealing with this."

Giving a slight hum in annoyance, the little girl walked back to the counter in order to clean off her cup. Zelda gave a small smile as she watched the girl walk off before bringing her cup of honey tea to her lips, letting the sweet liquid warm her body, still lost on what it was she was supposed to do next.