Mama's Cafe was as lively as ever that evening. Jaunty piano tunes drifted through the room, and occasionally out the door when it swung open. Men and women chatted and laughed after a long day of work. The warmth of the fireplace and scattered lanterns brought comfort from the chill outside, and encouraged people to part with their rupees.

Impa - spy, guardian, and worn-out nanny - breathed in the sweet aromas of her coffee: nutty, chocolate, with a dash of vanilla bean. One half-cube of sugar, one spoonful of milk. Just enough of both to take a nip out of the bitter flavor, but not enough to overwhelm it. It was a much needed pick-me-up in the midst of her hectic day. Wailing, playing, a three-year-old who often cried for a mother who was no more...

Impa had the patience to deal with said child, but not quite the energy to keep up with her charge. Together with the nobles, court drama, and the intricacies of palace politics, she was feeling worn thin. An hour or two in town would clear her mind, and give her time to think.

In her three decades of serving the Royal Family, she had seen and heard all manner of things. Break-ins and burglaries, runaway pets and missing persons, monster attacks and attempted assassinations. Poes popping up to haunt the Royal Family, wizzrobes spooking the horses, mirrors that reflected dark silhouettes with red eyes, not light. There had been many such strange and magical instances in the last thirty years, but the latest string of reports had been the strangest she had ever heard.

A small city – of all things – had popped out of nowhere.

More or less. Certainly, it had popped up in the last six months, but that was basically the same thing. Rumors abounded of this mystifying new establishment. Its people spoke an odd dialect of Hylian that was a mix of older and modern linguistics. Visitors described its people as clever and resourceful, able to set up a small city of shacks and log houses in six months, and to supply themselves with food for the coming winter, despite having no visible fields of grain. And strangest of all, she'd heard tales of a brilliant potions maker, a master of the craft who could give sight to the blind, heal broken bones with a wave of the hand, and cure any sickness known to man.

Impa doubted that last tidbit, but it had piqued her interest and her worry nonetheless.

A table further along the wall burst out into riotous laughter, briefly drowning out all else.

"He had to scrape the sauce off the walls!" hollered one of the men, waving an arm. "It took two days!" That caused the table and the one nearby to erupt again. Impa snorted. The jovial atmosphere was refreshing. There was no posturing here, no double talk, no trade disputes. Just honest men and women sharing stories and laughter over good food and warm drink.

Best of all, there was no pompous duke in crimson to ruin the mood.

"Merle," said a heavyset man the next table over, "so, I'm taking a shipment to that new town down south this next spring."

"Windfall?" asked the woman, taking a sip from her mug. "You believe those rumors?"

Impa glanced over, frowning slightly at this. The heavyset merchant rolled his eyes. "Rumors? Rumors? Rumors are things that hold no weight for a man like me," he said. "They got a good harvest of wheat, despite that people say they popped out of nowhere one day and basically built a damned city overnight."

"Ha!" Merle crossed her arms on top of the table, leaning forward. "See, Baza. That's plain hearsay. Places don't just pop outta nowhere."

"Orwen went down there and bought the biggest, brightest apples you've ever seen. And cider. And-"

"Sure. Sure." She waved a dismissive hand in front of his bulbous nose. "You're just trying to get me to go with you!"

He shook his head, seeming amused. "Nah," he said, "I expect ya to be an idiot and just stay here. You're never willing to take a risk, and it's why I'm far more successful than ya."

Merle scowled at that.

"It's not everyday," Impa found herself saying. They both turned their heads, looking over at her as she took a sip of coffee. "That a city appears out of nowhere without explanation, Master Baza. You can't blame your friend for being afraid."

Merle gasped. "I'm...I'm not...I'm not afraid..."

"Yeah you are," said Baza with a wink.

"I find it quite the odd tale myself," Impa said, reaching into her pocket and taking out a few red rupees. She placed five on the table. They both looked up, astonished. "When you go, the crown is interested in this new city. We would like to hear news of it, a short report if you would."

"The...the...crown?" the man said, looking up at her, then down at the rupees, then back up at her again. "Of course, of course, I'm a kingsman! Yes, don't worry I...I..."

Impa smiled. "I'm sure. News, good merchant. That's all we want from you. Thank you."

After promising another ten reds once the merchant returned with his tale, Impa left the cafe, her mission complete. In days long past, she would've gone herself, but for now, her charge would soon awaken and need yet another new...binky. With a sigh, she went to buy the third bright pink blanket she had bought that week. How in the hell the Princess kept finding new places to lose them, Impa just didn't know.

/-/

Lord Vaati, Savior of Windfall, King of Winds, the Immortal Demon, awoke at mid-day and immediately took stock of his room. The window was closed and latched, curtains closed, blocking out the pale grey light of winter. Through the ambient light streaming in, he could see that the small pot by the door hadn't been disturbed. All of his papers, scrolls, and tomes were exactly where he had placed them the night before, even the book cracked open on his bedside table laid untouched.

He felt underneath his pillow, and sighed upon feeling the sheathed dagger there. Safe. He had no reason to worry. No one would come for him here.

Another night of luxurious peace. Six months after leaving the Dark World, and he still wasn't used to it. It was as strange as the lack of weight against his chest, granting him the freedom to walk as a demon. The Moon Pearl. He hadn't needed it since the night he had given it to Flow, and he wouldn't ever have need of it again. He had finally escaped that wretched realm, and there wasn't a soul alive who could force him back there.

Vaati rose from his bed, and slipped his feet into his sandals, resolutely ignoring the chill that immediately clung to him. He quickly dressed in his purple tunic and matching cape, grabbing the staff he had leaned against his nightstand. Slowly, as the last remnants of sleep and dreams fled, he stood up and left, stepping out his chamber door.

Upon nearing his sitting room, Vaati sniffed the air. Smoke. Fire. Crackling. The fireplace in his sitting room had been lit. He crept back his bedroom, took the dagger from under his pillow, and came back out, staff in one hand, knife in the other. Who had dared to sneak into the Great Vaati's home? His grip tight, he swung open the door and ran in.

Then he saw the intruder, and stopped. It was that Gerudo. Ruuya. Thank Din. It was just his damned new apprentice. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or fire her on the spot.

Perhaps both, he thought.

Vaati sputtered before finally finding his voice. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. Ruuya looked up from where she was crouched, jabbing the firewood with a poker.

"Warming up, obviously," she answered, sitting on the cushioned bench in front of the fire, tending the flames.

"No, that's not what I mean! What are you doing in my house?!"

Ruuya poked the wood again with her stick. "'Come in at ten o'clock sharp,' you said. 'Don't be late or I'll turn you into a toad'." She glanced back at the sorcerer, chin resting partially on her shoulder. "I came over, you wouldn't answer, so I let myself in."

She'd...she'd...pick-locked his door! This was what he got for choosing a barely reformed thief to work for him. Goddesses. He was a fool.

Vaati very deliberately kept his dagger at his side. "You waste no time in grating my patience," he said, hand tightening around the dagger's hilt, "regardless of whether or not I allow you entrance. Perhaps there was something in the water the day I even considered letting you near my tomes."

"Sure," she said. She wasn't even deigning to look at him anymore. The absolute nerve! "You forget one thing."

Vaati hummed. "And that would be?"

"You wanted me as an apprentice to keep your secret," said Ruuya, sending a one-armed shrug in his direction. "Just consider it this way: I was being entra-per-new-el."

Entrepreneurial? He thought she meant that, but he wasn't sure. It also might have been intrapersonal? It was probably the former, though. Why had he decided that the Gerudo who could barely speak ten words in Hylian would be a great hire again?

"Did the old owl teach you that?" he asked.

Ruuya jabbed the wood again, and it split apart with ease. The fire bursted with crackles and light. "What?"

"That word."

"I can read, Master Vaati," she said, turning back to the fire. He could easily imagine Ruuya rolling her eyes. "I learned it from a book."

"It's entrepreneurial, not whatever the Hell 'intra-per-new-riel' is," he said, hands on hips. She looked back and glared, but didn't speak. All the other villagers were too nice about her bad pronunciation. He would make sure she was speaking like a proper Hylian by the time the next year came around. It wasn't proper for the apprentice of the Great Vaati to sound like some backwater desert shepherdess. "Am I to expect this unwanted wake up call every morning?"

"I get up at five," she said, a half-smile touching her lips. Vaati frowned. Goddesses, what an ungodly hour. This Gerudo was insane. "Alysse likes to start her lessons early."

"You're still living with them," he stated, disdain dripping from his voice. "You're my apprentice now, not-"

Ruuya dropped the poker, and folded her arms. "Why not?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Just think, if I'm there, you can ask me to keep an eye on her. Alysse knows your secret, Vaati. You should be grateful she hasn't told anyone else."

"Master Vaati," he corrected on impulse. "Or Lord. Or King of the Winds." To have such an impudent girl for a student. A silencing curse would have taught her respect, if not turning her straight to stone. Something to keep in mind for the future when he finally regained the abilities. She wasn't as bad as that old owl, but she was nearly just as annoying.

Ruuya rubbed her hands together close to the fire. "That's too much of a mouthful."

"Bah," he said. "Put some hot water on."

"Already did that when I first got here."

"Pour it?" Silently, she handed him a steaming mug from the small end table beside her chair. Huh.

He lightly sniffed it and took a sip. It was...tea. Not coffee. He took another sip, relieved. "How did you know?"

"You're a pompous, ancient mage," she replied, pouring herself a cup as well. Hers was coffee; he could tell by that awful reek. He would have to teach her that said nasty bean-juice was not an appropriate use for boiled water. "I brought breakfast, too."

Vaati nodded, paying more attention to the black, bitter brew in his hands than the girl's words.

"There are rolls in the kitchen," Ruuya added, heading in that direction. "They're those ones with the thing. The thing… The color thing." She opened and closed her free hand, head tilted. "It's...shiny?"

"Buttered jelly rolls," Vaati provided.

"Yes! That!" she said, glancing away, embarrassed.

Vaati scoffed, resisting the urge to groan like a certain child. It was hard, though. "Those things are disgusting. I have no idea how you people can stand them. Haven't you heard of bacon? Eggs? Perhaps hash browns?"

"They're sweet and tangy." She switched languages halfway through speaking, falling into her native Gerudo. A language that she had quickly learned he understood, unfortunately.

"They get on everything." His stomach growled in protest. No. He would not eat those things again, no matter how hungry he was.

"But your stomach disagrees."

It would disagree with eating those pastries, too, if he let it. That would be worse. He'd already learned that the hard way. Nothing was worth spending that much time in the lavatory, again. "I will not eat those defiled things."

Ruuya shook her head, seeming amused. "Fine, stubborn mage," she said. "I'll just eat them all, and you go out into the cold to get your lunch."

"You mean breakfast," he corrected.

"No," she said. "Lunch. I've been sitting here half an hour, waiting for you to wake up."

He grimaced...the very thought of that... "You didn't bother bringing anything else?"

"They're a gift from the Mayor," she said. "He...he might of put some chocolate filled-"

Vaati brushed past her and went into the kitchen. Those were actually half-decent, unlike the jelly crap others in this damnable town seemed to enjoy. Joshua was a smart man; he understood that Vaati didn't care for those demonic things. Once in the kitchen, he grabbed a plate, piled a couple of chocolate filled pastries on it, and joined his apprentice at the small wooden table set in one of the corners near the stove. She had followed him in, carrying both mugs of drink, and sat down at the table, smiling like some mischievous fox.

He ignored her, devouring his pastries instead. But even as he ate, her grin seemed to grow, until finally, she let out a not-so-subtle snicker, barely covering her lips. He looked up at her and frowned, a pastry halfway to his mouth. What was so funny?

"Shouldn't you wonder why Joshua sent you this gift?"

"I'm basically his god, girl," he said between mouthfuls. "Offerings are typical, though it seems these people often forget it."

She rolled her eyes. He bit into another roll. "It's some weird Hylian tradition," she explained. "They give small gifts when one of their own family is with child."

"That child's pregnant?" he asked in slight alarm. "She's barely ten!" He took a sip of tea.

"Nan's thirteen," she corrected, taking one of his chocolate-filled pastries. Damned former thieves. Not only did they sneak into your house, they took your hard-earned food as well.

"Whatever."

"No," she said, grin so wide it almost reached her ears. "Alysse's pregnant."

Vaati choked on his pastry, hacking up bits of bread. Ruuya laughed devilishly, her eyes sparkling in the dimly lit kitchen.

"You're…you must be pulling some jest," he said, throat still sore from choking. "I thought she was merely getting fat." Or he had hoped that was the case. If she got fat, he could mock her for it. Minute evils would always work against your enemies when you could do nothing else.

"Don't let her hear that," said Ruuya, waving her half-eaten pastry in the air. She took a hearty bite, gesturing wildly as she rambled on. "She's mad enough already, not that I can blame her. She's like fifty-six and has to go through that again."

He almost felt bad for her. Almost, but then again, Alysse had been nothing but a pain in his side since he had returned, using her knowledge as leverage over him. It served her right that she would have to suffer so. And he needn't lift a finger or risk his reputation. Vaati smiled with glee. She wouldn't interfere in his plans nearly as much now that she was preoccupied.

"You're doing that thing again," said the Gerudo.

Vaati frowned. "What 'thing'? What are you blathering about now?"

"Every time you think of something evil," she said, spinning a loose strand of red hair around her finger as she spoke. "You get this weird, creepy smile on your face. Damn, you even have pointy fangs. Fitting, I guess, for an evil overlord."

Vaati blinked, then shrugged, quickly landing on the perfect lie. He smiled, but made sure he did not reveal his teeth.

"Enough of this inane talk, I was merely considering what your first lesson need be. There is much for you to learn." He rose from his seat, sweeping his cape dramatically. She rolled her eyes. "Come."

/-/

"Making a red potion is the simplest form of crafting," Vaati said, as they worked, pointing to bottles and jugs of various things, some much too high up on the shelves in the back of the potion shop for the short mage to reach without a ladder. Ruuya was beginning to think the real reason he had asked her to be his apprentice was not because she knew his secret, but because she was far taller than him. She could get most things down without standing on the tips of her toes. Only once did she need a stool to grab some old, dried berries from the back of the cupboards in the kitchen. She still didn't know what that was about. "Get the Hylian Shrooms."

"Shrooms?"

"Yes," he said, "those are the last things we should need. They're somewhere up there." He pointed at the top shelf. Ruuya nodded and plucked the container of red mushrooms from the first row of jars.

"I thought all crafting required bug parts," she said offhandedly. "My mothers always used them when they made potions together."

Back in the good days, before Ruuya had become so very interested in the world beyond her home. Before the dreams had started. When she was still yet too young to see how crazed her sisters were about Ganondorf, perhaps because they hadn't been as bad as they became later. Or so said her childhood memories.

"Mothers?" Vaati asked, heading back to the front of the cool storage room where a small, hardwood table stood. There, she had placed all the other ingredients: fairy wings, various spices and plant parts, toad legs, and dried strawberries. Ruuya placed the jar of mushrooms in front of them.

"Of course," she said. He motioned her to pick up the ingredients she had gathered. "Don't know who my mother used to have a kid, but my moms raised me."

Vaati nodded. "I suppose that makes sense... You are Gerudo," he said. Ruuya rolled her eyes. It was true that more Gerudos were lesbian or interested in both men and women, but the mage's tone of voice… She wanted to slam a fist into his nose for that comment, but her hands were now too full of jars and bottles to do so. If she did that, she'd drop them on her feet. "Yes. Most potions require bug parts, but that is because they restore either magic or stamina."

"Huh?"

"Indeed," he said as they left the storage room and entered the laboratory, the place where he made potions and assembled ingredients. It wasn't much, just a fancy stove and some strange equipment she couldn't name. He kept a table here, though, and various bowls, pots, and utensils for making potions. "You'll have to spend much time getting things like this through your thick skull. If you get here early like you did today -"

She rolled her eyes. He paused, lifting his eyebrows in response.

"-go back there and study." Vaati pointed towards the storage room. "I want you to be so familiar with where things are kept and what I have that you can find them with your eyes closed."

Ruuya thought about the herbs she had gone hunting for weeks back, and the rows upon rows of bottled and jarred things that lined the walls. She shot the mage a half-hearted glare. He must be joking. "That's impossible," she said.

He smiled, showing his fangs slightly. "Make it possible," said Vaati. He chuckled, a not particularly pleasant sound. "That's what my old master would say to me when I said such things about a task, girl. He wasn't nice, I recall. You're here to learn, not complain. Complainers do no work."

He slammed his staff on the firm wooden floor. She had a feeling that last bit was something his old master had said, too. Did evil mages even have masters? Ruuya resisted the urge to cackle at the thought of Vaati being bossed around by some elderly mage in the distant past, and deposited her armful of ingredients on the cluttered table. From there, she silently followed his directions as he told her to grab two separate bowls, some wooden spoons and sharp knives, and a large pot.

"Get some water from the well out back," he instructed. "And some wine, too, from the cellar."

She sighed, took the bucket by the door, and headed to the well. By the time she was back from her chores, he had brought out a cushioned chair, a giant book, and a glass of wine. He had sat down, placing his pale, bare feet on the table. They stunk, she decided. Fitting for such an ancient blowhard.

Ruuya groaned, putting the bucket and cider on the table. "Put that water on the pot and boil it on the stovetop. Make sure it's roaring before you add anything to it," he said, turning a page in his book. "You'll want to get to work chopping things and mixing them together."

Ruuya glowered at the ancient mage. Was this little man being serious? "I thought you were going to help."

He pulled out a sheet from inside his book. On it was a list and steps written in a cramped, cursive hand. "As you reminded me you could read, Miss Gerudo," he said. Ruuya snarled in reply. "I thought you could follow some simple directions."

She grumbled a few curses under her breath, but did as he said. To her surprise, the directions were easy to follow, and soon she had two bowls of separate mixtures. Vaati sat there in silence, reading his damn book and sipping wine. Between steps, she made sure to send him dirty looks and curses, but she doubted the old mage noticed. She added both mixtures to the boiling kettle of water, grabbed the large wooden spoon off its hook on a wooden post near the stove, and returned to her list.

Ruuya frowned. It said to ask Vaati what to do next. She hated everything about what the words implied: a power move; a show of dominance; putting the smart-talking student in her place. It reeked of the sort of things Rhiun and Minia would pull, setting up situations where one had to obey and show fealty. But that was then, and this was now where the stakes weren't so high, and the only thing to lose or gain was knowledge. So she swallowed her pride, a bitter pill, and asked, "Master Vaati?" Inwardly, Ruuya clenched at those words.

"Ah, finally," he said, his tone peevish and impatient. He set his tome aside. "Chop faster next time, I nearly got through three chapters."

Ruuya rolled her eyes. It was becoming a habit by now, if not a reflex. Her mouth a flat line, Ruuya took a deep breath and steeled herself.

"What do I do?" she asked.

That creepy smile spread over his face again. "Stir."

She couldn't help it. She glared.

"It needs to be a certain shade of red, bright with just a hint of maroon," he explained, looking over the pot. "And it must have a silky consistently. No hard bits."

Ruuya placed a hand on her hip. "Why not make it yourself?" Honestly, it wasn't as if he was too old to move a spoon in circles.

"Stir," he repeated.

She sighed, but complied, stirring the mixtures together.

A minute or so later, Vaati spoke up, standing over the pot. "Because it needs two incantations," he said. "The first commands the ingredients to heal the sick, the injured, and the wounded. The second is a small spell which will keep it for sometime, so that your buyers will pay more for the quality of your product."

Of course, because that was so very obvious. "Preservation magic?"

"I see you know the proper term," he said with a nod. "Good. I'm not working with a complete novice. Stop stirring so hard."

Ruuya reined in her vigorous movements. The sharp tone Vaati had when referring to her experience was grating. "Alysse is a good teacher," she said casually. "When she showed me the map of your palace, she explained how it worked."

There was a brief moment of silence. The pot boiled, the fire crackled. Vaati broke it. "So, she taught you about preservation magic, I see."

"Well," she said, "Some. Not how to do it."

He handed her a bottle of something. It had a greenish tone. "Open that and drink its contents, then repeat after me: "Protect against decay"."

"What kind of spell is that?" she asked. "I thought spells were supposed to be more...poetic."

Vaati snorted. "An excellent one!" he said. "It's a simple preservation spell. Not all magic is like what Flow did to reopen the gate, girl."

Ruuya flinched at his tone. How could he treat Flow's memory so flippantly? "What about the other spell?"

He shrugged. "You'll have to wait and see. A spell used in crafting needs to set before you add another, lest the crafted object forget the first."

Ruuya frowned. Objects forgetting? This was very strange. She felt a headache coming on. "Like...making a stew?"

"I suppose that is an ample comparison for a novice," he said. "Now, what did I say? Speak the command. Try to envision a potion that doesn't decay as you say it."

She did as told, trying to form that image in her mind. She wasn't sure what the point of that was, but pictured a potion that could stay on the same shelf for years upon years, never rotting or going bad. Suddenly, Ruuya felt something...drain out of her. For a moment, she thought she saw a faint, golden stream of dust spread out from her hands and into the pot. Vaati nodded his head.

"Excellent," he said. "Now, stir it more. You want to mix the magic it in. What else did she teach you?"

"About?"

"Preservation magic, fool girl," Vaati nearly spat.

Ruuya's hands tightened around her spoon as she stirred the potion. The urge to reach over and slap him was almost too great. She was not stupid. He was just giving her too much information all at once. "She said the magic used to keep the map preserved was powerful. I think she could sense it."

Vaati hummed. "Odd. She could probably learn magic if she wished."

"Why is it odd?" Ruuya blurted out.

He shrugged, then grabbed her spoon. Ugh. Not only was he pompous, he was being purposefully vague, as though he thought being dramatic and mysterious was the perfect recipe to attract a mate. No, it was only a perfect recipe to give her a headache.

"You'll overstir this if you stir anymore," he said, leaning over the pot. "Let it settle for a bit, then add the dried strawberries. The magic is still active, so it should bind to them when you do."

"Strawberries?" Ruuya sighed. Though a part of her wanted to know more about magic and its workings, asking Vaati about it was like trying to read a book written in a tongue she didn't know. He fell silent, and refused to tell any secrets he knew about the topic. It seemed that despite her curiosity, the only person who knew anything about magic in this town refused to teach her because he thought her a foolish thief with only a smidgen of education. Unfortunately, he was also right. "If Alysse came to you and asked about spells, would you tell her things?" she asked.

He snorted and crossed his arms. "Her? She'd never do it and you know it."

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "Someone who actually doesn't hate your guts and has her smarts."

He raised his eyebrows in thought, considering this. "If they were loyal, of course," he replied. "Hypotheticals, however, will make no potions. Add the strawberries, it's settled enough."

Ruuya grumbled, but began to cut the fruit into pieces then ground them down with a stone. Each berry she smashed received a bit of anger, a dash of her frustration. "Why does this potion need strawberries anyway?" It seemed such a waste not to just eat them outright.

The mage had settled back in his cushioned chair, the book in his hands once more and his head nearly in its pages. He hadn't heard her.

"Vaati!" she said sharply.

He tilted his head up briefly and rolled his eyes in response. Good. At the very least, this was a partnership in annoyance. For a centuries-old sorcerer, he could be damn immature sometimes.

"Strawberries?" she reiterated.

"So kids like Nan will actually take it," Vaati obliged. "You try to get children to drink red potion without strawberries and sugar and see how well it works." He looked up from the book, frowning. "Did you add the sugar?"

"Shit."

Ruuya grabbed the jar of it from off the top shelf and measured it out. Two cups, just like the recipe said.

Vaati sighed, closing his tome. "People with innate magic, that is any who can learn it under the right circumstances, can see that residue. Fewer can tell the strength of a user. Most Hylians can at least sense it because they have inborn ties to Hylia, but most of their kind can only use it a little without further aid or endowment."

"Endowment?" Ruuya asked. She felt a sudden thrill. He was actually answering questions about this topic.

"Yes. That's the technical term," he said. "Most people who can use magic only have access to a very small amount at first, but to use it, they must have at least a small reserve. Beyond that, they need either a god or fairy to first empower them, then a teacher to help them learn. Everyone needs that, lest they burn themselves out by overexertion."

Ruuya felt her heart beating faster. "So. The fact that I could see residue..."

Vaati nodded. "Means under the right circumstances, you could indeed learn," he said. Ruuya smiled, pleased. The old mage scowled in return. "Don't let it go to your head, girl. You're not that strong to begin with and even endowing could only make you mediocre at best."

"Compared to you," Ruuya shot back.

Vaati snickered. "No, compared to anyone with even just a scrap of talent. You don't have a large pool to begin with and that, child, can only be extended so far."

She nodded. "Thank you."

Vaati grunted. "I can't stand working with a complete simpleton. It's wholly degrading."

Ruuya scowled. The mage only smirked, seeming to enjoy irritating her.

"If you must know," he said, as if he wasn't actively trying to annoy her, "to make potions you need some innate power. Not many in this village have even as much as you do. Probably because most of them are from Hyrule's neighboring kingdoms, and the lines there were nearly depleted by the last time I was in the World of Light."

"Huh." Ruuya thought back to the magicless life of the desert. She supposed that was why no one but the elders could do any sort of fantastic feats, and minor ones at that. The potential simply wasn't there in most of her ex-sisters.

The laws forbade travel to Hyrule, though. So how did that explain herself?

"No more questions?" asked Vaati, ready to flip the book back open.

Ruuya pushed her wandering thoughts aside. "Just one," she admitted.

"Well, ask. I have a book to read, girl." Vaati rolled his wrist, gesturing for her to hurry and get on with it. What? Did he think the book would learn to walk if he didn't get back to reading it soon?

"Alysse said she knew that whoever made that map was a powerful sorcerer," Ruuya lied. She was actually thinking of the book in his lap, but knew it was best that he not know about it. She'd have to make sure to take a peek once he wasn't looking. Hopefully, it wasn't in an ancient language she hadn't learned yet, although she was beginning to realize that she knew very little about them due to Alysse's tutelage.

"Obviously, the magic lasted a long time," said Vaati. "That's not much of a question. I'll go back to reading if you don't mind. Pay attention to the clock, we'll want to add the second spell...in an hour, still."

He pointed to the small timepiece hanging next to the storage room door, then went back to reading. Ruuya rolled her eyes, strutted over to him, and placed her hand on the book, smudging it with faint traces of red strawberry paste. Vaati moved the book away from her with a grimace. Part of her screamed; the stains would be impossible to remove. She'd just soiled a perfect book! However, the rest of her was too angry to give a damn.

"She said she knew the person who made the spell wasn't Flow," Ruuya said. "That she could sense it, somehow, I think. I couldn't."

"So she is trained?" Vaati asked.

She shook her head. "She was pretty adamant that she wasn't a sorcerer."

"Then she's stronger than I thought." He shook his head, flattening his lips. "I would've noticed if she didn't always glare at me."

Inwardly, Ruuya snickered. Outwardly, she managed to keep a straight face. Vaati just wasn't used to one of his "servants" standing up to him like Alysse did.

"How much stronger?" Ruuya asked. She leaned forward a little, eager to just know.

Vaati waved her away. "It's a moot point. You can have plenty of talent, but skillfulness needs to be learned."

"I'm just curious..." she muttered dejectedly.

He sighed, frustrated. "If I tell you, will you let me read in peace, girl?" She nodded. Until time was up, that was. "Compared to you, she likely has enough raw power to rival the most powerful sorcerers of this age. Except me."

"As strong as Flow...was?" Ruuya asked carefully.

"Likely," he agreed. "Probably stronger still. It's almost a shame that I can't have an apprentice as powerful as that, true..."

He went back to reading. Ruuya grumbled, and sat by the pot, waiting for an hour to pass. Unfortunately for the potion shop, Ruuya left the sugar on the table in the measuring cup.

Kandragon: So, you didn't get to see the second spell, sorry about that. It's as simple as the first, but it's "Heal the ill", which rhymes, at least. There is also a preservation tune, but Vaati's singing/humming is terrible, so he never actually learned it...

Yes. It's the one Link hums in BotW. xD

Smashy: There's magic in music. I suppose whistling while you work would actually be productive here.

Kandragon: Pfft.