Hi again, Mimi! Glad you liked the improvements to Orielle and the surrounding events. Like you say, she's way too nonchalant in the game!

Thanks as always for the reviews, all of you! I always really appreciate them. =D I hope this chapter provides more sensible improvements, especially since I've done a fair amount to the environment in this one.

Chapter 41: Shards of the Past

The metal-like strip had led Link along a wide, high-ceilinged, remarkably regular central passage, sloping down quite steeply. Smaller caverns opened occasionally on both sides, but Fi had quickly identified them as dead ends, and Link had trusted her judgement. Once, he'd disturbed a colony of keese, but the big bats' panicked fluttering had been only an attempt to escape, and they'd flown past him into the darkness, their hard-beating wings and tiny shrill squeaks fading quickly into the underground silence.

And it was silent: dead silent. Link's footsteps on the gritty rock or not-metal and the sound of his breath seemed like the only sound in all the world, without even a breath of wind to stir the air. It was cool, but not freezing, and as long as he kept moving he'd been able to easily keep warm. Alone in the dark, with only his lantern for light and trusting in Fi to warn him if he needed to douse it, he'd lost all track of time.

It was almost a shock when the slope of the tunnel levelled out, the strip splitting in multiple directions in a complex, radiating pattern made entirely out of curves. Link blinked at it, frowning: it seemed needlessly complicated, and the monotony of the walk made it all the more of a surprise. What in the sky was it for?

From the shape of this junction, I calculate a 97% probability that we are reaching a central sector of the mine, Fi said, her voice quietly musical in his mind. However, I recommend halting in or near this location. My chronometry shows that the sun is currently one-quarter set. It is advisable that you rest before proceeding further.

"Really?"

Link's own voice echoed from the walls, startling him after the long near-silence. He thought back through the day: waking on the ground by the volcano; calling his loftwing and rising through the plume of ash; his explanation to the Headmaster; a very welcome bath or grooming for himself and his loftwing alike; the long conversation with Fi upon the Isle of the Goddess; the search for and – he hoped – rescue of Orielle… it had already been late when he'd dived, the sun well past its zenith. No wonder it was setting now.

"I guess I am tired." He looked around, the junction area feeling a little too open for comfort. There had been a side passage not far behind, and venturing back a short distance proved that it was shallow and empty, ancient scores upon the dead-end wall showing where it had been roughly hewn from the rock in a way that the rest had not. The mismatch seemed odd, but more importantly, it was empty, and dry, and seemingly safe.

"Do you think it'd be safe to sleep here?" he murmured.

Yes, Master Link, came the silent reply. I detect no danger in the area. It is almost 100% certain that you will pass the night undisturbed in this location.

"Thanks."

After a little thought, Link extracted the sailcloth and refolded it into a crude bed, just enough to cover him and insulate him at least a little from the hard rock floor. He ate a stuffed bread roll from the package Henya had prepared for him before laying belt and baldric aside, the pale hilt of his sword left by his head within easy reach. Lying down, he automatically blew out the lantern – and froze.

The darkness was absolute, as thick around him as a physical thing. He waved his hand before his face and saw nothing, the faint motion of air and his own sense of self warning him less than an inch from hitting himself in the nose. How was he ever going to get the lantern lit again when he couldn't even see it?

Almost as if in response to his thought, a faint glow began to rise from somewhere. Link looked down, squinting in the darkness, to where a pale cylindrical shape with pommel and guard ghosted into his vision, and he almost laughed in sudden relief.

"Fi… thanks." Still propped on one elbow, he looked at the Goddess Sword's hilt, and the very, very faint lines of charcoal on black sketching shapes around it. "For a moment there I thought…" I thought I'd done something very stupid.

The hilt brightened for an instant as the spirit sprang from it, casting very little light herself yet still seeming to glow in the darkness, perfectly visible.

"Your concern is sensible, Master. However, I am capable of producing illumination if necessary, although it is inefficient. Please draw the sword if you desire more light. Since I do not require sleep as you do, I will additionally monitor the surroundings while you rest."

Link smiled broadly in tired, relieved gratitude. "Thanks." He unfolded the arm he'd propped himself up on, lying gently down in his uncomfortable makeshift bed. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Fi tilted her head ever so slightly, as she sometimes did when assessing his words.

"I am certain. Although it is inefficient, causing the sword to glow is a negligible use of my power. Although I do not need to project myself from it in order to observe the environment, I calculated that the visibility of my projection would cause you increased reassurance, and I detect that it has done so."

Link shook his head slightly, smiling again, if more faintly. "Okay. Then…" He slipped his left hand from the enveloping folds of the sailcloth, resting it upon the pale hilt, his fingers black bars of darkness across it. "Goodnight, Fi."

"Goodnight, Master Link."

Despite the cold, hard underground surroundings, Link was asleep in a matter of minutes. True to her word, Fi continued to monitor the cavern around them, her projection floating noiselessly above the sword.

A part of her mind continued to assess her master's words, adding them to the sum total of her experience. He possessed the qualities of kindness and concern for others, causing him to repeatedly seek to ensure her own well-being, although it was clear that he did not fully understand what constituted that well-being: the fulfilment of her purpose. Fi's perfect recall allowed her to add the memory to a slowly-growing string of similar instances, and, contemplating them, determine that they formed a favourable pattern. It would be optimal for her to seek to ensure his well-being in a similar fashion, as she had attempted by appearing before him despite its lack of necessity. She had once been instructed to avoid inferring that remaining within the sword was required, and indeed, her appearance had always-

Had seemed to-

Fi adopted the appearance of kneeling in a motion so abrupt she barely passed through the intervening space, her awareness temporarily fully focused upon her master. Asleep, his youthful spirit retained its full strength, his higher mental processes largely still. She detected the exact number of millimetres his chest rose and fell with each breath; determined his internal body temperature and his rate of heat loss to his surroundings. Minor imperfections in his physiology caused him negligible disadvantage and so did not deduct from her analysis, although she assessed the recent scar upon his leg a second time lest there had been an error in her initial assessment. There was none.

Alone in the darkness with her sleeping wielder, Fi recognised that she had encountered the edge of the processing error, and had circumvented its worse effects. She had briefly withdrawn her attention from the majority of their surroundings, but she had not ceased to function, nor performed any significantly illogical actions. Assessing the situation in more detail risked provoking the error again, and she chose not to do so, instead remaining on guard in the darkness, part of her awareness staying sharply attuned to the sense of his spirit, the sound of his breathing, the outline of his form beneath sailcloth and clothing.

The night passed unremarkably, in stillness and in silence.

. . .

"Awaken, Master Link."

Link blinked awake, Fi's musical voice slipping through half-formed dreams and dispelling them into cobweb rags.

"What… Is it morning?" He squinted at the pale hilt, glowing softly in the otherwise unrelieved blackness, then looked up to where Fi was floating above it in a sitting pose.

"It is approximately one hour before the sunrise. Once we emerge onto the surface, you will find it uncomfortable to travel during the heat of the noon, although the effect will be lessened by your heat protection. It is therefore advisable to divide your activity into two periods."

"Okay." Link sat up, stretching stiffly, pushing all thoughts of sleep to the back of his mind.

"Please draw the sword to increase your available light, Master."

Link smiled. "All right." He reached over and drew it cautiously, the blade shining slightly brighter than the hilt with the cool purity of starlight, casting the cavern in silvered surfaces and shadow that moved as he moved his hand. After a moment's thought, he set it down carefully atop the sailcloth, and leant to the side to reach for and light his lantern.

Fi returned to the sword as her master hastened through his simple morning routine, until at last he picked it up, still shining, and slid it back into the scabbard, already restored to its place across his back, and finally folded his sailcloth away.

"You ready, Fi?"

It seemed a redundant question. She was, after all, a sword, and her spirit had been created to guide and aid him. Being ready was not only part of her purpose, but something she would not have known how not to be. Still…

Yes, Master Link.

. . .

Returning to the arcing pattern of the junction, Link had recognised that the pattern seemed as though it primarily came from the same arched opening that Fi's guidance was leading him to, with curves of almost-metal from it leading to every other passage. Encouraged by this realisation, he hurried onwards, lantern held high. The passage narrowed strangely at one point, as if a section of rock had been left to form something almost like a barrier; at another, a section of floor had been dug down in a sudden drop of nearly twice Link's own height, and the rail that had once, he assumed, spanned the gap now lay more or less intact at its foot, fallen after uncounted ages. There were no signs of any supports, and it seemed to Link no wonder that it had collapsed. Standing on the edge, he frowned.

"Why's there a hole here, Fi?" It had clearly been deliberately dug, too regular to be natural.

Unknown, Master. It is probable that it was dug as a countermeasure against an anticipated issue with the tunnel. This region was once bound within a repeating loop of time. As a result, events such as mineshaft collapses were highly predictable, and could be prevented with sufficient forethought. Apparent anomalies in construction may be due to such precautions.

"What, so… they knew which bits of the tunnel would collapse, and… didn't let them?"

Essentially, that is correct.

"Whoa." The thought was almost dizzying. Link wondered what it would be like if his own people had such knowledge, if they knew which islands would be battered by storms long before the clouds even began to darken, or what edges would finally give up the fight against erosion and crumble unexpectedly away.

It didn't, however, help him cross the gap. Looking down into the hole, Link judged his landing site carefully, and stepped off the edge.

He landed hard, dropping into a crouch to dissipate the shock, standing straight again swiftly. The shadows of the rail whipped back and forth wildly as his lantern's flame stabilised, seeming to set half the ground into motion that calmed only slowly – except for one spot. Link grimaced as he recognised a gelatinous ooze seeping up from hair-fine cracks in the ground. More gross than really dangerous, the only way such a blob was likely to be able to harm an adult human was if it came on them sleeping, though children and pets were more vulnerable. On Skyloft, he would have cut the thing apart on principle; here, in the desolate mines, he simply ran past before it could finish extruding itself from the ground, snatching out the digging claws that Nackle the mogma had given him and gouging crude but effective handholds from the rock as he climbed, leaving the pale, yellowish ooze pulsating aimlessly behind him.

There were no more dangers as he pulled himself up, silently thanking the mogma again for his gift as he stowed the clawed gloves away once more and continued along the tunnel. It curved gently to the left, then opened into another passageway, near-metal rails curving gently into one another. To the right, the rail split into multiple sections, all of them dead-ends as far as Link could tell, ending in a solid rock wall. Several of them were occupied by what looked to be wheelless carts, bigger than he thought a single person would be able to easily pull. They appeared to have a notch on their undersides that the raised centre of the rail fitted into with room to spare, and he guessed from the look of them that they were probably meant to slide along it. Perhaps it had been slipperier, even polished, in ages past? He doubted any of them would move now.

Turning back to the left, the passage narrowed somewhat into another constructed doorway, more like the one he'd passed through up above. Beyond seemed to be a wide open space, veiled in shadow. Lantern held high, Link walked towards it, watching as the darkness slowly retreated before his light.

The cavern was huge. Link passed the inert corpse of another robot as he entered, this one armless but with its hands still incongruously remaining on the ground nearby, but he could only spare a glance at it, staring around at all that his lantern was showing him. Strange machinery loomed from every wall, covered in the dust of ages; metal rails described great loops around its edge, one with a cart still resting on it. Another few misshapen lumps proved, as Link cautiously approached, to be yet more dead robots, and a strange obelisk his own height stood in the centre of the room, atop what Link presumed to be an ornate dais.

"What is this place, Fi?" he murmured, his soft voice thrown back in whispering nonsense echoes from the walls. She sprang from the sword to answer him, hovering calmly to his right.

"This would appear to be a preliminary ore processing hub. It is likely that others similar to it exist elsewhere in this mine. The transport system was highly efficient: ore would be sent through the first stage of processing in the machines here and deposited into the carts you observed previously, which would transport it out of the mine. I detect that the power source for the local subsystems remains functional; however, the systems themselves have deteriorated with time."

So there's power, but everything's broken, Link thought. Sort of the opposite of Beedle's Airshop…

Two other exits seemed to lead out of the room, identical to his save in that both were blocked by closed doors. Turning and walking back to the one he had entered through, Fi drifting alongside, Link checked inside the frame. It looked as though there was a door, but it was already open, and looked to be stuck that way.

"I detect that the door in this entranceway has previously malfunctioned," Fi stated, backing up his guess. "From the open panels nearby, I deduce with 92% probability that the inactive robot here was engaged in repairing it at the time of deactivation."

Link frowned. "He was in the middle of fixing a door? ...What killed them all, Fi?"

"Unknown," Fi replied. "It is known that all the robots in the Lanayru region were deactivated apparently simultaneously, approximately forty years into the temporal cycle that formerly governed this area. The cause was not discovered before the raising of Skyloft."

Link breathed out, slowly. The thought of their sudden, simultaneous deaths made the empty mine even more creepy. "Right… Let's get out of here."

Fi inclined her head once, returning to the sword as Link thought for a moment, focusing on the subtle sense of direction that she provided him with, then crossed to the right-hand door. It seemed to split along three lines: an upper section, a lower left, and a lower right. Try as he might, Link could budge none of them. There wasn't even anywhere he could get a good grip.

My analysis confirms that the opening mechanisms of these doors have ceased to function due to the passage of time, Master.

"So… so this is a dead end?" It was a more unsettling thought than it had any right to be. Link thought he sensed Fi considering for a moment before she replied, although she did so without any noticeable hesitation.

Not necessarily. It may be possible to restore functionality to this region temporarily. Observe the power source in the centre of the room.

Link turned to face it; crossed over the rails and stepped up onto the dais, his feet striking a muted ringing from the floor beneath him. Slightly wider at the top than the base, the obelisk was decorated in complex patterns, and in places Link could see deeper within it, as if its structure were layered.

"This thing?" he asked, gesturing to it.

"Correct," Fi replied, vaulting from the sword to hover beside him. "The power source for this chamber is a refined form of material known as Timeshift Stone. A sizeable chunk of refined Timeshift Stone is contained within this structure. Among the properties of the stone is its capacity to create a sustained temporal distortion field in the immediate area. I calculate that the refined stone within this device will produce a distortion of sufficient magnitude to reach the doors, potentially restoring the local power network to a functional state within its extent and thus rendering them operable."

"So it… warps time?" Link was frowning, valiantly doing his best to keep up. He'd never even heard of such a thing before. "And it'd… I guess make the doors younger? So they'd work again?"

Fi nodded once. "That is an adequate summation."

"How do we make it work?"

"Refined Timeshift Stone will initiate a temporal distortion following any significant impact. Since you do not have suitable tools available to you, I recommend striking the power core with your sword. It is not possible for a mundane impact to damage any part of the sword." She gestured as she spoke, raising one arm, draped as always in fluttering metallic fabric, towards the obelisk.

"Are… are you sure?" It felt almost sacrilegious to use the perfect blade as a hammer.

"I am certain, Master."

"Well… all right, then…" Link took a deep breath, and drew the sword from its sheath, holding it up somewhat awkwardly with the blade pointed backwards over his shoulder. Glancing at Fi – who inclined her head – for confirmation, he braced himself and struck it with the pommel as hard as he could. The sharp ring of metal on metal was underscored by a deeper, more resonant note, and-

Link could have sworn he felt himself unbreathe, felt a queasy moment of unthinking some thought that he would never know whether or not he might have completed, as a wave of light washed across the room. He gasped in shock, automatically stepping backwards, away from the power source, a pale blue light streaming from the deeper openings within it, the metal floor suddenly free of the dust of ages and filled with brightly coloured inlay, a myriad clanking and whirring sounds sounding from all around him. To his utter shock, he saw the robots' corpses judder into motion, their hands linking to their bodies by what seemed like chained lighting, each of them hovering above the ground. The dusty cart that still sat atop one of the rails lifted into the air, brightly coloured and shining as if new, and light as bright as the sun shone down from the rock ceiling above, dazzling him.

"What- Fi, what-" Link turned in a frightened circle, sword in a guard position, blinking sudden tears from his eyes and squinting grimly through their lashes at the brilliantly lit chamber.

"I am able to confirm that a time-shift has occurred within this space," Fi said from somewhere to his left, her musical voice impossibly calm. "There is no cause for alarm. As predicted, this area has entered a past time-state. It appears that the Timeshift Stone has reverted the surroundings to early in the temporal cycle."

"We've travelled back in time?" His eyes were adjusting, slower than he would have liked, but enough that he risked lowering his sword.

"No, Master Link. Rather, any element of the surroundings that existed at that time has been temporarily reverted to the state that it was in at that time. Thus, the machinery in this cavern is now active and fully functional. In addition, it appears that the robots in the immediate vicinity have similarly been temporarily restored."

A short, loud sound like a cross between a buzz and the high-pitched 'tweet' noises some of the little birds Link had seen before on the surface made sounded from Fi's direction, and Link spun to face it, finding himself looking past her at one of the robots. Undulled by time, it was now pale with brightly-coloured trim, mismatched eyes seeming to gaze up at him, the highest point on its crowned head barely even reaching his chest despite how it floated above the ground. A blue lens flicked over one eye as the strange figure turned from Fi to Link, and seemed to focus on the sword in his hand.

"Vreep!" it went again.

"I detect that the robot attempting to communicate with us does not possess a suitable linguistic database, Master. I will communicate my own to it."

You can do that? Link thought, as Fi turned to the robot and… said nothing at all. He was about to speak, uncertain, when the robot suddenly spoke up, every word perfect and with the same Academy-taught accent as Link himself.

"Where did you come from?" -dzeet- Another of the strange sounds followed its words, and Link wondered what it meant.

"I, uh… that way?" Link pointed back the way he'd come. "I need to get through this mine…"

"This is a mine for Timeshift Stones," the robot informed him. "The stones may be dangerous for humans! You should keep a safe distance from blue stones at all times, and try not to get in the way of mining operations. Your physical structure is fragile and may be at risk."

Zweep! Another loud sound abruptly emerged from the robot by the entrance, the one that had been repairing the door.

"Did you cause damage to the lighting systems beyond the door, human?" the first robot asked, dragging his attention back to it. Link shook his head, feeling rather on the back foot. The robots had been dead less than a minute ago, and suddenly this one was interrogating him?

"No, I haven't touched anything back there… I really just need to get through the mine. I'm trying to go that way?" He pointed, following the constant faint nudge of Fi's sense of direction, almost but not quite towards the closed door he'd tried before.

"You can't go through there, human. That's an active mine working, and we've barely begun to dig it out, -zrrt-," the robot told him. "Why don't you go that way?" It – he? She? Link didn't have the faintest idea of how he might tell – pointed to the other door, the one that had been to Link's left. "Follow the mine levirail to reach the ore processing facility, -tseep-. That route will take you safely back to the surface. But be careful to stay off the rail itself! You should not interfere with the carts' running. They are significantly more durable than you!"

"I'll, uh, keep that in mind. Thanks." It's like he doesn't think anything happened… like he doesn't know he died. Maybe he doesn't. Fi said they were put back to how they were… however long ago it was. The robot interrupted his thoughts by turning to Fi.

"I do not recognise your design, but you are clearly a new and superior model! Please keep your human at a safe distance from all machinery as you leave the mines. I am transmitting a current schematic for navigational purposes, -fweet-!"

To Link's amusement, Fi inclined her head gravely.

"Thank you," she said, following it up with a strange and high-pitched whistle that lasted less than a second. The robot seemed to approve, tilting its body in what could almost have been a bow, and turned away.

"It is best that we proceed directly to the door indicated, Master Link," Fi said quietly. "I will be able to activate it as we approach."

"Okay." Link took a deep breath, wanting to ask so many questions, the weight of his surroundings – of the unknowing, uncomprehending robots in his surroundings – silencing him. He crossed to the door, stepping cautiously over the rail that led beneath it. Fi vaulted back into the sword as he did, and as she had promised, the door opened before them, moving swiftly and easily on near-noiseless mechanisms. Link stepped through, and it shut behind him.

Look, I did it! It's longer than I expected. o.o

Poor robots. Link doesn't know how to deal with this, either, but since they're in this cavern and the temporal distortion fills it, only the robot fixing the door (it seemed more realistic that there would be three actual doors rather than mysteriously one entrance not having been given a door for some reason) is likely to realise that something isn't right…

Patch Notes
- Mine depth and extent increased.
- Digging claws continue to provide climbing functionality.
- Power source no longer a giant "hit me" button; Fi now helps with the doors to compensate.
- Swordsman who has been training half his life no longer risks damaging his sword by swinging it at random objects in the environment without significant prompting.
- Robots from over a thousand years ago no longer speak the modern Skyloftian language. (The Sheikah and other still-extant cultures that are in contact with them do speak variously-accented versions of it, in large part because people periodically fall from the sky and end up among them, bringing their linguistic changes with them; see Chapters 14 and 16.)