From her seat under a red-and-yellow awning, Yneira watched as her targets strode out of the Hateno gate. They had entered Hateno a few hours ago and had made some stops to visit the old Shrine, and, oddly, to one of the traditional houses at the edge of the city center. The Hylian Champion had argued with a man dressed in a frivolous blue shirt and pink bandanna before eventually shaking hands with the man.

When they had returned to the main road, they had almost immediately been set upon by a tall girl that could have passed for a Gerudo if not for the shade of her skin and a pink girl Yneira had originally mistaken as a Hylian-monster hybrid of some kind. Had the pair not been in town, they would have immediately stood out as oddities on the road. Yet despite their appearances, they seemed to blend well into the hectic atmosphere of the Hateno market.

They had tugged the little green monster, old man and Champion in tow, back uphill to a little cafe. She hadn't been able to get close enough to hear their conversation, but it didn't last terribly long before they were on the move once more, this time up to the building at the top of the hill marked with the cursed Sheikah Eye. The building's windowless design was less than ideal, and it took Yneira longer than she would have liked to find a way to eavesdrop on the conversation. She was able to catch snippets, enough to know that the Champion's memories were missing and that they would be returning to Kakariko before the day was out—and that the two girls would be going with them.

Yneira scowled and shook her head. She didn't know the combat capabilities of these two, but she had to assume that they would be just as surprising as their friend. All she could hope for was that they would part ways with the Champion. Otherwise, she would have to drastically reconsider her plans. With how skilled the group had proven to be… well, better to try and take them outside the city, away from the guards.

For now though, she could resupply. Yneira let herself drift through the market while keeping an eye on her quarry. It also gave her a chance to sort through her thoughts.

She still found herself troubled that her people had been spared. Banged up, certainly, and one or two wouldn't hold a sword again, but all were alive. That wasn't something one did in war. To do so suggested a degree of arrogance bordering on ludicrous. And yet, she couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to it. Maybe it was due to the Champion's missing memories, but Yneira doubted it.

To further complicate things, her dreams hadn't become any clearer. Or rather, they had, but they didn't make any sense. Every night, she dreamed of a castle in the mountains, surrounded by great, winged beasts. The only sign of life in the castle was a giant, beautiful woman sitting on the throne. Whenever her dream self had gotten close enough to examine the woman, she had transformed into a thing of darkness and bone that had reached out and touched her chest. The specter would speak in a hauntingly melodic tongue that Yneira knew she hadn't ever heard before, but was still able to somehow understand.

"Cursed one, you are mine. Seek the Flame…"

Yneira shuddered. As many of the Yiga were descendants of the Sheikah, they were occasionally privy to hints of foresight. Master Koga had the strongest gift currently, and even his visions were unclear despite being a trueblood Yiga. Yneira was only half-blood Yiga; her mother had always told her that she and her grandfather had escaped from somewhere far away when she was very little. To have such clear visions of a place that clearly was not Hyrule was unsettling.

She shivered again and tried to push it from her thoughts. Obscure visions or not, she had a job to do. From what she had gathered, her targets were heading to the old Sheikah tower before continuing to Hateno. While she could take them on their way to the tower, she wanted to observe the two girls in action before formulating a plan. Unfortunately, that meant extended observation, so she needed to make sure she was well supplied.

"…fish! Beedle has fresh fish from Lurelin…"

"…spices fresh from Goron City!…"

"…told her that? Rashel, you can't say that…"

"…Hydromelons! Hydromelons to slake your hunger and thirst…"

'Hydromelons? Here?' Yneira turned and made her way over to the fruit stand, where a wizened matron with more wrinkles than face and more scarves than clothes was sitting behind several crates of fruit, including a stack of hydromelons. Yneira thumped one or two experimentally and raised her eyebrows at the satisfactory vibrations that resonated back at her. She glanced up at the old woman and said, "These sound good. How did you keep them fresh? I've heard that hydromelons are notoriously hard to ship."

The woman chuckled. "I didn't ship them. Grew 'em in my garden myself, and let me tell you, young lady, it wasn't easy! They're used to the dry Gerudo province; had to teach 'em to get by, and they're all the tastier for it."

"Tastier?"

"Oh aye. They're not quite as watery as the ones you get out west, but they're more flavorful."

Yneira eyed the woman skeptically before shaking her head and laughing. "All right, I'll bite. How much for this one?"

"One yellow."

Yneira had to keep her eyebrows from going up. Going prices for hydromelons were usually double that, up to three yellow in the desert. Ten rupees for one was quite the bargain. "Hmm… tell you what; I don't want the entire thing, and I bet you'd be able to sell the rest, so I'll take half for a blue."

"Deal!"

The wrinkly woman stood up and, in a single motion, set the melon Yneira had selected in front of her and sliced it in half. Yneira recoiled, surprised at both the knife's sudden appearance and the woman's apparent energy, but before she could do much more than that, the merchant had wrapped up the melon and was looking at her expectantly. Yneira recovered and chuckled as she handed over the blue gem, which quickly vanished somewhere into the woman's scarves. "You're good."

"That I am. Go on; try it. Then you can tell a little old lady what's bothering you." She laughed when Yneira jerked up to look at her. "You can't hide things from someone as old as I am, young lady. So go on, and then we'll have a talk."

Ruefully shaking her head, Yneira did as instructed and bit into the fruit. Her eyes widened, and the old woman laughed again. 'It's so good! Kind of tart, but also sweet? Definitely makes up for the fact that it's not as juicy as normal.'

She wiped her chin a few bites later and grinned. "All right, I admit it. That was excellent."

"Told you. Now, what's bothering you?"

Yneira's grin slipped. How much to tell the woman? Technically, the Yiga were at war with the Hylian royal family, but the only living member was trapped with Lord Ganon. She weighed her thoughts before speaking, picking each word carefully. "I had a recent encounter with a terrible enemy of mine who showed my men more mercy than I expected, and I don't know what to do with that information."

"Your men? Mercenary, are you?" The old woman shook her head before Yneira could respond. "S'not my place to pry. I don't know the circumstances behind your estrangement from this enemy of yours, but it sounds like he—it's a man, isn't it? It's always a man—he may not be as terrible as you originally thought. You may want to reexamine your relationship, maybe find some common ground between the two of you."

Yneira opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and frowned instead. She didn't like it, but the vendor spoke sense. "I don't know how well that will work, but… I'll think it over at least. Thank you."

"You're welcome. But that's not all that's bothering you."

Yneira stiffened, and the woman grinned. "I know people. So what else is on your mind?"

'How does she know?' Yneira weighed her options. She could just brush it off, and that would probably be the smarter route since the Champion was so close. And yet, it could be good to get the dreams off her chest. Risso always said she needed to open up more. With an internal sigh, Yneira decided to go for it.

"I've been having the same dream for about a week now," Yneira eventually replied, "and among my people, that usually means something. It's been... a little unsettling."

"There it is," the woman said in satisfaction. "Sadly, I don't have the gift to help with that, but I know someone who does." The woman leaned over her stall and pointed up the road. "A friend of mine lives up near the end of the market. Name's Hestea. She's a little peculiar and getting on in years, but don't let that fool you; she's the closest thing we have to a keeper or wise woman here. If anyone could help you interpret your dreams, she'd be the one."

It wasn't a trained Yiga or Sheikah dreamweaver, but Yneira couldn't risk ignoring the dreams until they had been examined by someone else, no matter the person's credentials. "I'll do just that. Thank you again, for both the advice and the surprisingly excellent hydromelon."

The woman smiled faintly. "We do what we can, dear. Tell Hestea that Asa sent you, and if you could, tell her that I'll be by later today to pick up that blouse she's mending for me."

"Ah, so the true motives behind the recommendation come forth!" Yneira laughed, and Asa joined her.

"Aye, you've found me out. Now off with you, young one; go let Hestea help you."

Still chuckling, Yneira waved farewell before setting off up the road. Behind her, she heard Asa start crying her wares again, enticing others to come and buy some of her hydromelons. While it would delay her pursuit some, she could always use the Arbiter shadowalk technique to catch up.

It didn't take Yneira long to find Hestea's house. Or hut, rather. As opposed to the grandly humble stucco buildings surrounding it or the more modern block structures that what's-his-boko was building, the hut had clearly seen better days. While it appeared to be a decent size from the outside, its walls were dingy, and its roof sagged in at least three spots that Yneira could see. Dust gathered on the shuttered window sills, and the cracked stone walls spoke of age. If the woman was as old as Asa had made her out to be, she clearly had let her dwelling age with her.

There was no sign of the old woman in the yard, so Yneira walked up to the front door and knocked. Almost immediately, a reply echoed back through the door.

"Enter."

'Isn't it Hylian custom to answer personally when someone knocks?' Yneira quirked an eyebrow, but listened and let herself in.

Creeeeeeeak.

The door revealed a small entryway with shelves covered in glowing candles, candles that didn't so much as flicker when Yneira closed the door. She felt the hair on her arms stand on end, and she shivered despite the warmth inside the hut. It was seeming more and more like this lady was the real deal.

From somewhere beyond the entryway, Yneira heard the quiet snnk snnk of a spinning wheel, and she padded down the short hallway toward a doorway where she assumed the sound was coming from. When she reached the entryway to the room, she stopped and gaped.

The room was filled to the brim with flickering candles. Little pinpricks of light twinkled back at her from shelves, loose stones, tables, even the floor itself. What parts of the wall that weren't covered in wax looked to be even older than the exterior of the house, as if they had aged more quickly than those exposed to the sunlight. The only clear space was a small path of floor that led to the center of the room, which was currently home to a spinning wheel and a figure in a deep red robe.

The woman—Hestea, Yneira realized—kept her head bent over the spinning wheel as she spoke. "As you can see, I am busy. What can I do for you, child?"

Her voice was strong, resonant; nothing like any of the old women that Yneira knew back home. The Arbiter shook her head and cleared her throat. "I was told that you, erm, could help me with a problem of dreams."

"Straight to the point; I like that. Well, we shall see. Tell me of your dream."

Yneira glanced at all the candles again before taking a deep breath. "It always starts by showing me a dark, murky forest. It's raining, but only enough to cause things to mist over. I am always impressed with the age of the wood, as if it had seen many come before me, and that I would not be the last on its path.

"I walk through the forest and emerge on the other side looking up at a towering castle. At first, I thought it was Hyrule castle, but it doesn't match the descriptions I've heard. It soars among mountain peaks, and in the setting of the sun I can see great scaled beasts swooping and diving around the castle. A woman, a giantess, sits within the castle. She calls me cursed... and tells me to look for fire."

She paused, cleared her throat again, and continued. "Among my people, dreams can be a sign of things to come, and we are taught to recognize such when they occur. They normally only come to those who are trueblood members of the clan; in fact, my case would be the first outside of that bloodline. So tell me, weaver; what is the meaning of my dream?"

The spinning wheel slowed, but didn't stop entirely. "My, that is fascinating. Did you ever see the woman speaking?"

"Only recently. She was beautiful, but her beauty was off-putting, as if it was covering a stench. She changed form when she spoke, turning into a creature of shadow and bone."

"And your clan? You speak of the Yiga?"

Yneira tensed, her hand darting toward her sickle, and the woman laughed. It was not a kind laugh. "Oh child, I care not for the squabblings of your kinsmen and these Hylians. Your people may do as they please, for all I care. I will remain, as will these Flames. It does, however, bring me to my next question. You are not originally of the Yiga?"

Hand still on her weapon, Yneira replied, "No. My grandfather immigrated from somewhere far away. My mother married into the clan after he passed. When I asked her, all she knew was that grandfather was fleeing some kind of blight."

Hestea started shaking, and her laughter, low at first, rose in volume and filled the room. It was a sinister sound, lacking any of the warmth that Yneira associated with the action and reminding her more of the wild dogs in the desert. Yneira's skin crawled, and she began to question whether this had been a wise decision. When the crone regained control of herself, she looked up at Yneira, who recoiled in surprise.

The woman laughed again, her cataract-filled eyes reflecting the candlelight all around her and giving the impression that her sockets were filled with fire. The lines in her face creased and deepened into chasms as she spoke. "Oh yes, I know what your dream means, Child of Dark. I also know that you will not like my answer. Do you still wish to hear it?"

'Child of Dark?' Aloud, Yneira said, "Yes. I am not afraid of death, if that's what the dream means."

Her answer seemed to amuse the old woman, for Hestea cackled again. "Oh, far worse than that, Child. You have seen a murky, forgotten land. A land filled with Souls that may cure your ailing mind."

Yneira frowned. "Are you saying that my dream means nothing? That I am feverish?"

"No. Your mind is yet clear, but it will not remain that way. I can see now that you have not yet been branded, but now that the dreams have begun, it is only a matter of time. You will lose… everything, once branded. It is an auger of darkness, the symbol of the curse. Your past, your future, your very light—all of it shall slip away. None will have meaning, and you won't even care. By then, you'll be something other than human. A thing that feeds on souls."

The flames through the room flickered and shrank, as if an invisible breeze had stifled them. Yneira shivered again at the damning finality in the woman's voice. "Is there anything I can do? And what does that have to do with my dream?"

Candlelight reflected back up at her as Hestea slowly nodded. "Long ago, in a far off land, a great king built a great kingdom. The land of your grandfather, unless I am very much mistaken. One day, you will stand before its decrepit gate without really knowing why. Remember then, if you can, that Fire weakens and needs a new Lord. Seek the Herald; she will know what you must do from there."

Hestea nodded and returned to her spinning. Yneira tried to sort through this dire prophecy, but none of it seemed to make sense. Fire? Lords? Heralds? What was she supposed to do with that information? Was the lady even sane? "So I just… find this Herald, and she'll fix things?"

"That, Child, is up to you. Know that whatever you do, you cannot escape the effects of your lineage. Like a moth drawn to the flame, your wings will burn in anguish, time after time. For that is your fate. The fate of the Cursed. For now, you may wish to look more into your grandfather's journey to this land. You may find such knowledge illuminating…"

The dreamweaver—or sun-touched, Yneira wasn't sure—trailed off, and the quiet snnk snnk of the wheel once again filled the hut. Yneira waited and, after a few moments, asked, "Is that all you can tell me?"

"No more will you hear from me, Child. It would speed you toward your destruction."

Yneira weighed the woman's words. It all seemed like a story a scout might relay after a week under the desert sun. And yet, if even part of it were true... "All right. Well, thank you, I guess. Good to know that terrible things are coming in my future. Do I owe you anything, Wise One?"

Hestea didn't answer. Yneira rolled her eyes again and finally removed her hand from her sickle. "Fine. Oh, before I go, Asa the hydromelon vendor said she would be by later to pick up her blouse."

The dreamweaver just nodded and continued spinning. Rather than try and force the old woman to acknowledge her further when she was clearly trying to prove a point, Yneira decided to just withdraw. She didn't want to try and weasle more information out of her anyway. Right now, she needed a stiff drink and time to process this prophecy—and to decide if she believed it.

Van whistled as the not-Lizalfos—Spinner, he'd said his name was—led her into the throne room. It was still very much in ruins, but there were signs that the castle's current occupants had been busy restoring it to functionality. Stonework had been repaired, and the old tapestries of the Hylian royal crest had been replaced by red banners emblazoned with an ominous black helmet of some kind. Even the throne on its dais overlooking the rest of the room seemed to be in excellent condition.

Most importantly, Ganon seemed to be safe. While the floors and walls of the room seemed to have been restored to an earlier state, the ceiling was covered in tendrils of Malice, derelictGuardians, and other bits of detritus. In the center was a massive egg-like protuberance that everything else on the ceiling was slowly being drawn towards. Even as Van watched, the thing pulsed, and she could feel the immensity of the odious emotion writhing within. She nodded to herself. Oh yes, Ganon was fine.

At a nudge from her escort, Van allowed her attention to be diverted from Ganon's chrysalis to the occupied throne. A towering figure in black was reclining in the seat, leaning to one side as he examined the approaching Yiga. Van wasn't sure how he was doing it though, since he appeared to be lacking eyes.

It was an imposing scene, to be sure, but it only meant that the stage was set for Lord Ganon's return.

Once they reached the center of the room, Spinner stopped and motioned for Van to do the same, clearing his voice before looking up at the man on the throne. "Master, may I present to you Van of the Yiga clan. She and her men were—well, it might be best if you were to hear her out."

The man on the throne nodded, and when he spoke, he seemed to project a presence through the room. "So, you are the one who led the armed force of ninja into the ruins, something that could be interpreted as an act of hostility. Tell me; what brings you here?"

Van squareder shoulders and glared back up at the man, ignoring the menace that almost dripped from his too-smooth words. "We intercepted a band of bokoblins with a missive commanding all the monsters to gather here at the castle. Given that this is where the Demon King is recuperating his strength, our commanding officer demanded that we investigate to see if he were in danger, or if he had perhaps, at long last, reawakened."

The man chuckled. "The Demon King? I have been called the Demon Lord, but King is a new one."

"With all due respect, I do not mean you." Van gestured toward the pustule on the ceiling. "I refer to the Calamity Ganon who, after his defeat ten thousand years ago, is on the cusp of returning. His monsters roam in greater numbers, and his Malice seeps across the land."

"You have a great deal of faith in this… Calamity Ganon," the man said. "Why would your captain be concerned with his safety?"

Van scowled. "Is this a joke? All in the land of Hyrule know of the conflict between Lord Ganon and his enemies, the incarnation of the Goddess and her Chosen Hero. A hundred years ago, the Goddess's latest incarnation trapped herself and Lord Ganon, preventing him from returning fully at that time. She was buying time for her Champion to return."

"It seems that you have just touched upon one of my current problems." The man stood up—and stepped over the edge of the throne platform. Van gaped as the figure floated down through the air, almost as if he were part Rito, before touching down gently. "I am afraid that my associates and I are not from Hyrule. We know little of your people and history."

Now that he was closer, Van was able to get a much better look at the man. He was head and shoulders taller than her at the least, and he did not, in fact, have any eyes. Where they should have been, scarred tissue covered his face and disappeared behind some kind of apparatus that covered his mouth. His dark clothing gave off a sense of opulence, adding to the sheer presence the man exuded. To distract herself, she asked, "If you're not from Hyrule, where are you from?"

"That is unimportant. Tell me; has this Champion returned yet?"

Van raised an eyebrow, but decided to humor the man with his strange powers. "Yes, he has. Hence why my companions and I—"

"Yes yes, why you have come to check on this Demon King of yours. Tell me; was this Champion accompanied by anyone? An imposing blond giant, or perhaps a youth with green hair?"

This just kept getting stranger and stranger. "According to the vision Master Kohga had, he was accompanied by the youth and a skeletal blond man. Why?"

The man's face above his mask crinkled. "Why then, I believe that we may be able to reach an accord. As you can see, we have not harmed, nor do we intend to harm, the Calamity. In fact, by your account, his enemy and my enemies have joined forces. I would suggest we do the same."

Van frowned. The man unsettled her, but he had a point, and there was no telling what he would do if she turned him down. "I cannot speak for the clan as a whole, but I think I can speak for my band when I say such an alliance would be welcome."

"I would not expect you to bind your clan to something without first consulting your leader," the man said. "Why don't I send one or two of my associates as a diplomat of sorts. You can send a few of your friends to watch him and escort him, and we can open proper negotiations with your... Master Kohga."

That put the odds squarely in her people's favor should the diplomat or diplomats prove dishonest. Van nodded. "I think I can agree to that."

"Excellent! Spinner, have Compress settle the rest of our guests and send Twice and Dabi to meet us in the library. I have some questions I wish to ask our guest, and that is where they will best be able to find us."

Van tensed as Spinner slipped away. "What questions?"

The man barked a quick, cold laugh. "Always on your toes, eh? That will serve you well. You see, miss Van, I have engaged in several experiments with this Malice. Several texts in the library mention that your master was able to use it to create all manner of servants. Damaged as they are, I would like a native's opinion before I decide my next step. I may even be willing to send my associates with this information for your leader to dissect."

Van shivered, but nodded. She didn't think that this was something that she could say no to. "I would be delighted. May I ask though, what should I call you? I don't believe that Spinner ever mentioned your name."

"I have had many names over the long course of my life, miss Van, but you may call me All for One."

Author's Notes

I don't do these over here nearly as often because I have to add 'em to the document directly and I forget to do that, but I figured chapter 20's probably a good mile marker to talk. First, I'm glad that y'all have been enjoying "My Hero Hyrule." It's a lot of fun to write (if sometimes a little frustrating. Distances man, how do they work), and I love hearing from you guys. I don't reply as often to comments here since 's review/comment system simply isn't quite as polished as AO3's, but I read every single one and do take things you point out into consideration.

Related to that, you all might have noticed a Dark Souls element in this chapter. Based on the feedback I've been seeing on AO3, I didn't foreshadow this quite enough, and you have my apologies for that. Rest assured that the main group and Hyrule generally will be barely affected, if at all. Link's not gonna fight Gwyn, AfO's not gonna suddenly turn into Pontiff Sulyvan, nothing like that. Yneira, however... she might be in for a rough time.

As a final note, I do have a Discord server that I run for both MHH fans and, more importantly, as a sort of hub/workshop for writers. We talk fanfiction a lot, but a few of us also write original works. So if you wanna come hang out, the server's called Fireside Tales, and we'd love to have you.

And that should be about it! Again, I do hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and are having a great and safe holiday season. I'm working on a regular update schedule, so the next chapter should be out around the 18th of January. Until then, stay awesome, and happy holidays!