**Viewer Discretion Advised: Intense Violence**

"You took it too far!"

It hadn't even been an hour since Link had left, and not even a minute since Zelda had gone flying out the inn's double doors. Celessa, who had been told to be quiet during the argument that had taken place, couldn't keep herself silenced anymore.

"This lifestyle, Link's experiences—" she said loudly, giving Jules (who was still staring at the doors Zelda had left through) a fierce look, "they're all new to her!"

"She needed a push, Celessa," the clerk said, keeping her voice tame, "and if Jules hadn't said anything, she might not have even realized what was going on."

"Y-yes, but… Hey!" Celessa called. Jules (who still hadn't given her any attention) turned and began heading back up the stairs from which she came. Unsure of what else to say, she turned back to the clerk. "Was there really nothing else we could have done? I… I don't… I don't know who's right or wrong here…"

"There isn't always a right or wrong," Prima said, adjusting the sheets she had been holding with one arm into both. "Sometimes there's only the best we can offer."

With that, she too made her way up the stairs, ready to change the sheets of the multiple beds that awaited her. As the innkeeper disappeared, Celessa stood alone in silence. She stared at the now vacant staircase before glancing over at the front doors. Unsure of what to do, she frowned and disappeared from the lobby and into the dining hall.

One hour. Two hours. Half a day passed. The snow that had paused had slowly started to return, falling from the clouds in a light flurry. Snowflakes stuck to the glass panes of the inn's windows, visible from the inside to those paying attention, though only one person was looking through them. As Prima continued her duties around the inn, Jules remained upstairs, sitting on her bed just as silent as she had been the moment Zelda had left. She kept to herself, dedicated to watching the snowfall from her bedside right up until someone called her name from behind.

"Jules."

For the first time in hours, Jules tore her blue eyes away from the window and looked back at the shorts-wearing traveler that now stood on the opposite side of her bed. The two silently looked at each other for a moment before Celessa awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Look, I… Uh…" she began, clearly still trying to collect her thoughts. "I get it. I get why you said what you did. I do, really."

Already, Jules had turned her attention back to the window panes, but Celessa kept talking.

"Maybe what Prima said is right," she said. "Maybe Zelda did need to be pushed in the right direction. But… But, I don't think that was the way to do it. You shouldn't have brought her father into it."

"Then why did you tell me about him?" Jules asked in a defeated tone. "Why bother bringing him up?"

"Because I wanted you to understand her," Celessa said, but Jules shook her head.

"Then I'm confused, because I think I understand pretty well," she said. "She's the way she is because of her past– because of her dad, right? So, what is it I'm missing?"

"You understand why Zelda is the way she is, but you aren't trying to understand her," Celessa answered.

"I'm friends with Link. Not her," Jules said. "You know we've never seen eye to eye. Heck, we've tried to, and we saw how that went. I don't need to understand her—"

"If Link's important to you, then you do need to understand her," Celessa said. "Because she's important to Link. She's doing her best, Jules, whether you approve of her methods or not. She was trying hard."

"And do you think I'm not?" Jules asked heatedly, turning around on the bed to face Celessa once more.

"Of course, I do," her friend answered gently. "Because the same way Zelda left to try her best to catch Link… You did your best to let her handle it. You stayed here, even though I know you wanted nothing more than to go after him yourself."

Jules furrowed her brow and looked down at the bedsheets she sat on.

"I'm not saying your bitterness against Zelda isn't justified," Celessa added. "But… It's not right to let it control you. You're right: she went about things the wrong way, and you know what? I had a part in that. So did Prima, and possibly others… Many people had a part in putting them in the situation they're in, and if you want things to really get better for Link and you, then you need to recognize that maybe you were one of those people too."

Jules didn't answer. She continued to look down at the sheets. After a few moments, Celessa took a breath.

"I'm headed to Link and Zelda's right now," she said. "I doubt she was able to catch him, so… maybe she's still there. She could use the support, and I think you should go too. Patching things up—even if just a little— could do you both good, I believe."

Jules again didn't answer, and after a few more moments, Celessa quietly sighed.

"Well, if not now, then maybe some other time," she said. "I really believe it would help. I'll be off now…"

Still hopeful, Celessa stood in front of Jules's bed before finally turning and heading back down the stairs. She wasn't sure how long she remained sitting on the bed after their discussion, but eventually, there was one thing Jules did know she wanted to do. She needed to get a drink.

She pushed herself up from the bed and onto her feet. After stretching and cracking the stiffness out of her back, she headed down to the lobby. To her surprise, Prima was at the front desk, checking two ladies in. Both of them looked over at her as she stepped down onto the floor, their eyes filled with grotesque, yet they somewhat softened after a quick inspection of her features.

"Oh good," the larger of the ladies said as Jules walked passed. "I thought for a moment it would be her."

"And here we thought we could finally drink our wine in peace," the taller lady replied. "Good thing that still seems possible."

"That her still works here, ladies," Prima said politely, though a certain weight could still be felt in her tone. "I'll have to ask you to refrain from speaking poorly about her, as you tend to do."

The two ladies snorted but didn't respond any further. After paying for the beds they would need later that night, the two followed Jules into the dining hall before finding their usual seat in the corner, not too far off from where the purple-haired guest sat.

"Finally, some time away from that husband of mine," the larger one said as they sat down.

"You too?" the taller one asked. "I thought it was just me! Being stuck in the house for that long with him. I needed a break."

"We just had to get snowed in," the first lady replied. "Hopefully we'll get snowed in here again, and this time we won't need to deal with that bumbling princess."

"Oh, I know," the tall lady said, lowering her voice the moment Prima walked into the hall. "To think, we agreed with her once a few weeks back, and she had the nerve to yell at us! I mean, truly, what a disrespectful girl."

"We always said that royal past of hers had gone to her head," the short lady said. "To think many of the townsfolk think it left, or that she's enjoyable to be around. Nonsense."

"She deserves to have another glass of wine dropped on her."

"Indeed, she does."

As the women continued whispering between themselves, little did they know the person they had confused for their princess earlier had been quietly listening in. Jules remained seemingly unamused, with her elbow on the table and her cheek leaning into the palm of her hand. She wasn't even looking at them; she didn't want to hear it. It was always about Zelda. Always, yet her ears kept twitching, unable to mentally block their voices out. It wasn't until Prima called out into the hall did her attention finally break.

"Same wine as usual, ladies?" Prima asked loudly. She received a wave of their hands in answer. With a shrug, she looked over at Jules. "Lunch?"

"Ale," Jules replied back. The clerk frowned.

"Are you sure?" she asked sternly. "Is this really what you want to do?"

"Yeah, it is," Jules answered. "I just really need to block out the voices. All of them, including the ones in my head…"

...

"I've come to kill you."

The masked man stood in front of the front door as blood dripped onto the wooden floorboards from his lanky body. He looked wet from the flakes of melting snow that had fallen on him during his journey to the house, and parts of his maroon jumpsuit were stained in a darker shade of red thanks to the open wounds that covered his body. He slowly spun the sickle around in his hand as he stared up at the two women up on the loft.

"Princess Zelda," he said, "we meet again. How long has it been since we last saw each other? A few months, right?"

Suddenly, the assassin disappeared in a puff of smoke. Both Celessa and Zelda looked sporadically around. He could appear anywhere and at any moment. Suddenly, the creaking of the house seemed to grow louder, the winds grew more apparent. Zelda's breath grew heavy as her heart slammed against her rib cage. He was here— he was actually here, and Link wasn't.

"Actually, I guess a few months isn't all that correct, is it?"

In another puff, the Yiga appeared at the top of the staircase, now standing on the other side of the loft from the two. Though it was clear she was nervous, Celessa defensively stepped in front of Zelda with her arms slightly raised.

"You haven't seen me in months," he said, twisting the sickle in his hand a little faster. "I've been watching you this whole time. Always in watching from the shadows, or even in plain sight."

"Y-you've really been watching us?" Zelda asked. "This whole time?"

"This whole time," the masked man answered. "Ever since that day I lost to you both. It was tough; you're more observant than I gave you credit for. It was hard staying out of everyone's sight, but it was most challenging staying out of yours."

"What do you want from her?" Celessa spoke up. "Why are you here?"

The Yiga lazily rocked his head, moving his blood-red eye from Zelda to her.

"Didn't I just tell you?" he asked unamused. "I'm here to kill her. Why bother asking? You know what we represent, don't you? I know you do…"

"W-what?" Celessa asked nervously. "What do you mean by that?"

"Because you know us…" the Yiga explained. "You know her. You know her past. You know ours. That's why you travel, isn't it? To learn about this disgusting princess you obsess over?"

"H-huh…?" Celessa stuttered as sweat began to fall from her forehead.

The masked man took a step forward, causing both Celessa and Zelda to flinch back.

"Why look up to that?" the Yiga asked as he walked. "Why admire someone who failed in her own task to prevent my god from arising? Is it because you feel left out? Maybe you don't feel special like she believes herself to be?"

Every step toward them sounded like thunder. They could feel the weight of his boots against the floor vibrate inside of them, despite how light his steps were. As he grew closer, they moved back, yet the wall behind them was getting close.

"Do you want to be special like she is?" the Yiga continued, asking in an off-putting sincere voice. "Do you want to be included? Would you like me to kill you too… Celessa?"

"Y-you know me?" Celessa asked. The masked man laughed.

"I do, but," he said before his voice lowered again, "you're not special. I know everyone in this wretched town now."

The assassin disappeared in a burst of smoke once more and appeared before Celessa before she could process he had even moved. Raising the hand that held the sickle, he backhanded her, sending her flying away. Zelda watched in horror as her body flew into the railing. Celessa coughed, spitting blood from her mouth as she fell onto the floor. Still wincing in pain, she reached over her shoulder but paused. The Yiga chuckled.

"You didn't bring your sword," he said, stepping toward Celessa as she pulled herself up to her feet, using the railing as support. "I mean, why would you have? You didn't believe I was here either—"

"Stop!" Zelda shouted.

She lunged forward, attempting to wrap her arms around the assassin's thin waist, but her efforts were quickly neutralized by a sharp elbow to her chest. She flew back onto the bed, gasping for air as she placed her hands on her chest, writhing in pain. It hurt. It really hurt. It felt as though her chest was going to rip in two. The Yiga glanced over his shoulder at her in amusement.

"Wait your turn, girl," he said mockingly. "Trust me, I'll get to you. I just want to get rid of any distractions first. Just sit there and watch, I think you'll just love seeing this."

Even through the pain, Zelda tried to scream out, yet no sound escaped her lungs. Her lungs didn't have any air to spare. All she could do was choke on nothing as the masked man turned his attention back to Celessa, who was now raising her fists in defense. The Yiga snorted.

"You think you can stop me?" he asked. "Funny. Look, pilgrim, I've waited a long time for this. Too long. I came all the way here after ending that Champion, and no one will get in the way of what I want. Not you. Not anyone. Not anymore."

Zelda's body froze.

"What did you do to Link?" Celessa asked as blood continued to spill out the corner of her mouth.

"Aren't you Hylians supposed to have good hearing?" the Yiga asked. "I just said I ended him. Huh… You know, saying it again feels really good. It was a wonderful sight. In fact, you should be grateful, because I'll make your death far quicker than I made his."

By surprise, he raised the sickle in his hand and swiped at her. Celessa barely dodged, pushing herself onto her toes and leaning her back over the railing as the blade just missed her chest. Though she had saved herself from the slice, this didn't put the assassin off. Instead, he continued his motion by spinning. Crouching down and outstretching his free arm, with a swoop, he grabbed at one of her ankles before rising back up, flinging Celessa over the railing entirely. Her body flipped as it fell to the first level before her back crashed onto the dining table below.

Zelda (who was only just now able to gather some air) listened to the ear-piercing shattering of the vase and plates that echoed throughout the house. The more air she was able to take in, the heavier her breaths became. They were alone now; her and this monster. Slowly, the Yiga began to turn. His white and red mask fell upon her, and it felt as though the bloody eye was staring directly into hers.

"It's just us now," the assassin said as if reading her mind. He began stepping toward the bed. "Just you and me."

He twirled the sickle in his hand with each step he took.

"Where's Link? What did you do to him?" Zelda managed to wheeze out, pushing herself away until her back was against the wall. The Yiga sighed.

"By the Calamity himself, you people are just full of denial," he said. "He's gone. Dead. Sacrificed to my lord, Calamity Ganon."

It wasn't true. It couldn't be. There was no way she could allow herself to believe that. He was lying. She opened her mouth, ready to say anything that came to mind, and yet, her breath left her again. Nothing had touched her. What took her breath away this time was the sight of the sword handle behind the Yiga's shoulder. A long handle, covered in maroon wrappings. The Yiga glanced behind him before realizing what she was looking at. He gave a low chuckle.

"Ah, yes," he said, stopping at the bedside. He reached over with his free hand and took the sword off his back. "Is it setting in, Princess? This is the sword your knight came at me with… Mine now, as it rightfully should be. Maybe I'll be promoted to a blade master under Master Kohga when I return."

Without warning, he slammed both blades of the sickle and the sword together. Sparks flew as the steel screeched against each other while a deafening clang echoed throughout the house. He cackled as Zelda flinched in surprise.

"I should thank you," he continued, pointing the sword at her, with its tip now dangerously close to Zelda's nose. "It's because of you this is all possible. Letting me live all those months ago… Ignoring your hero's warnings… Going about your day as if nothing was happening… Really—"

"I-I didn't help you," Zelda stuttered out. "I-I would never—"

"But you did," the assassin cut in, replacing the sword back over his shoulder. "You are the reason all of my dreams— my ambitions— are about to come true."

Suddenly, he reached his now free hand out and grabbed a fist full of Zelda's golden locks. He painfully yanked her by the hair, pulling her off the bed and onto the floor. She screamed in pain as he lifted her by her hair and onto the tips of her boots. She brought her hands up, pulling and clawing at his knuckles, trying to free herself from his grip, continuing to cry out in pain. She tried to kick and writhe around, yet all was in vain. The Yiga simply chuckled again.

"I spared you last time," he said as she continued to resist. "Back at Medoh. I was going to let our leader, Master Kohga, finish you himself. Now, though… I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

Twirling the sickle around in his hand, he struck Zelda in the stomach with the pommel. Again the air left her body. She coughed between her painful yelps, still fighting with the hand that held her.

"That was for you making a fool out of me in Tarrey Town," he said in a low tone. "And this—"

Again with the pommel, he struck the thin fingers that had been clawing at his hand. Through the fit of coughs, Zelda yelped in pain again as she winced at the strike. Tears began to fall down from her now tightly shut eyes, yet she refused to remove her hands from above.

"—is for the humiliation at Medoh. This is for Master Kohga!"

He kicked her in the thigh.

"This is for all the wounds that hero gave me!"

He struck her in the chin.

"You know what?" he said, shaking her body as his voice became raspier. "How about I return the favor for every wound that champion gave me!"

He continued to strike her, sometimes using the pommel of his sword, other times backhanding her, and sometimes even kicking her. Each blow echoed throughout the house as he laughed.

"You deserve this!" he shouted as he abused her. "Every strike! Every bruise! You did this!"

Zelda continued to cry out, still attempting to kick and pull his arm away, yet with each strike, she grew weaker. Eventually, he stepped forward, forcing her body against the railing of the loft.

"I was scared for a moment!" he shouted as he continued his blows. "When that drunk came along! I thought she would make you see the light, convince you I was here. But you ignored her. You blew her off! I thank you for that! Maybe—"

A strike to her shoulder.

"—you should have—"

A strike to her head.

"—listened to her!"

"Hey!"

The Yiga stopped, leaving a weak, but still struggling Zelda held and bent over the railing. That was a new voice. Confused, he looked at the opposite end of the loft, where a woman stood at the top of the staircase, brandishing a silver trident. Between strands of purple hair, she stared into the bloody, upturned eye with her fierce blue ones.

"Put. Her. Down."

"Ah… Look who it is," the Yiga said. "The boozer herself. I must've been having too much fun here. I didn't hear you come in over this one's wailing. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I really wouldn't call this a pleasure," Jules said. "Now let her go."

"What? Really?" the assassin asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "You know, I thought you out of anyone would love watching this. I mean, can't you see this?"

Still holding the struggling woman by the hair, he yanked her away from the railing and out toward his challenger.

"I mean, you agree, don't you?" he asked as he held a bruised and beaten Zelda out for Jules to see. "She did this to herself. She didn't listen to you. She's the reason your precious hero is dead."

Jules flinched. She clenched her jaw, trying to keep herself collected, but she could feel it. Something was boiling in her chest.

"She took away what could have been yours. Why fight for her? Why throw yourself into harm's way for… for her?" he asked. Jules stared at him, glancing between his mask and Zelda's blemished face. After a moment, she sighed.

"I want to believe she did this to herself, and she definitely had a part in it. A big part, but… I can't say I'm not somewhat responsible," she said. Her eyes hardened as she raised the elegant trident higher. "I'm not going to ask again. Drop her."

"Drop her you say?" the Yiga asked mockingly. "Fine. I guess if you're forcing my hand, then so be it. She'll survive the drop. I think. Just remember, you told me to do it."

Jules furrowed her brow, trying to piece together what the masked man was trying to say before suddenly, he lifted Zelda off her feet completely. To her horror, in one swift twirl, he threw his hostage over the railing and off the loft.

"Celessa!" she yelled, looking down at the floor.

"I got her!"

Caught off guard, the Yiga looked over the rail and down at where Jules was looking. There, near the dining table, was Celessa, sitting on the floor (which was covered in broken ceramic) with Zelda covering her body. The assassin snorted.

"Surprising that you're still awake," he said. Celessa chuckled nervously as she helped Zelda to her shaky feet, dusting ceramic shards off her body.

"Well, I've had my fair share of battle before," she said. The Yiga blew air out his nose from behind his mask.

"So what now?" he asked, looking between Celessa and Jules. "What is it you two think you're going to accomplish? You two don't really think you can beat me, can you?"

"We can try," Jules said, still holding out the trident, yet the Yiga laughed.

"You're going to try?" he asked. "Is that the ale talking? Do you think I can't smell that drink from here? And you—"

He looked back down at Celessa.

"I know your back has to be sore from that fall earlier, and catching that disgusting woman couldn't have helped. Besides, what weapon are you going to–?"

He paused, noticing the gold-hilted scimitar in one of Celessa's hands. He then glanced back at the back wall, where all the old weapons had been hanging. Two of their slots now sat empty. He laughed even harder.

"You think now that you have a sword you'll be able to do something?" he called down to Celessa. "What's the worst thing you've fought on your travels? A bokoblin? And you—"

He turned his attention back to Jules.

"That silly Zora's trident?" he rolled his head on his shoulders in laughter. "I bet you don't even know how to fight, much less know how to use that. Do you think alcohol is going to guide you through this?"

"Uh…" Jules said, now taking a step back. "Well… I've only had one drink…"

"Right," the Yiga laughed. After a few seconds of laughing, he cleared his throat and straightened his back. "Fine then…"

He shook his hand, giving a menacing crack of his free hand's knuckles before raising it up. He grabbed the hilt of the Windcleaver and brandished its blade once more. With another echoing clang, he slammed the sickle and the sword's blades together before preparing a stance.

"I promised the champion," he said, "that each wound he inflicted upon me would be a body on his hands. I guess it's time to start honoring that."