Hey again Ancalagon! Glad that made sense. I agree, it's always hard to figure out what to write off as "game thing" and what to find a coherent justification for. I like to justify wherever I feel that I believably can, but there are a lot of things one could go either way on in pretty much all games.

As for the breeding program thing, funny you should say that...! [redacted] ;-)

Thanks again for the continued reviews; it's always really nice to know someone is enjoying it!

Chapter 12: Safety

"The individuals are now observing you, Master," Fi stated calmly, a few minutes later.

Link looked around the edge of the basin, but still couldn't see them. He raised his voice anyway, calling out more weakly than he'd quite intended. "Hello? Who's there?"

The foliage on the lip of the hollow rustled, and suddenly there was someone standing there – two people, just as Fi had said. They seemed, at least on a first glance, to be human, as best he could tell under the concealing, forest-coloured clothes they wore, with white-blonde hair and some sort of markings on their faces, too far away to be made out clearly.

"We are servants of the goddess," one of them called back, deep voice no louder than was needed to reach Link's ears. "And you… you bear her sword. Are you the one named Link who landed at the Temple of the Great Seal?"

Link nodded. "I am." After a moment, frowning slightly, he added "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Mahra Impa sent word that the time of prophecy had come. We came to aid you, and the daughter of spirit."

Who? …Zelda? "Have you seen her?"

The second, slightly shorter one shook his – her? – head. "We have not. But Mahra Impa sent the one who was attending her to aid the spirit maiden." The voice was higher, but not so much so that Link could be certain either way. "She would have arrived here long before we did."

"Is there any assistance we can offer you?" the first called down.

"Please!" Link forced himself to get to his feet, nearly falling, all his weight on his left leg. "Is – do you – is there anywhere safe I can – rest tonight?"

The two looked at one another, and Link guessed they were conferring, though he couldn't hear them speak.

"We will bring you to our camp," the shorter one called, "but you will need to leave the spring's protection. We cannot reach you past the sacred barrier."

Link glanced to Fi, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"All right." He took a deep breath, bracing himself. The stairs between him and the doorway suddenly seemed very long, and very steep. "Can you meet me in there? I don't… don't think I can walk much further on my own."

The two watchers followed his pointing finger, then glanced up to the damaged roof above. "We can. We will rejoin you within." Unexpectedly, they bowed to him before melting back into the undergrowth and out of sight.

Link turned to the stairs, gritting his teeth. Every step hurt, and his leg had stiffened up even in the short space of time he'd spent sitting. He was practically hopping as he made his way to the stairs, almost dragging his right foot, leaning gratefully on the stone wall for a few moments before struggling to descend. Fi kept pace ahead of him, moving backwards, expressionless as always but clearly watching him. She returned to the sword only after he'd finally reached the bottom, leaning on the wall for a few moments longer before drawing it, looking at it, raising it skyward…

-something he still had to do, through all the fading pain, and Fi-

Link nearly fell, only barely catching himself; stood for a moment longer before touching the gleaming blade to the door. It dissolved into light just as it had before, and he limped through.

The two strangers were standing on the other side, waiting for him. As he crossed the threshold, the slightly shorter one stepped forward, offering him an arm to lean on, which he accepted gratefully. Somewhat taller than him, she was strong, but whipcord-thin beneath her clothes, the subtle hollows of her face speaking to a harsher life than his on Skyloft had ever been.

"Thanks," he managed, leaning against her.

"It is nothing. Our purpose is to aid you." She almost seemed a little flustered. Close up, neither seemed entirely sure of themselves, almost as if… they were in awe. Of him? "The one who was with you… was that the spirit of the Goddess' Sword?"

Link nodded.

"Then she is still with us now?" She glanced at the sword as she spoke, but Fi said nothing, and Link was the one to react.

"Yes. She's… there."

"That's good." She paused for a moment, then looked to her fellow. "Davar, can you handle the transportation?"

The taller of the two, Davar, nodded, addressing Link. "Please brace yourself. This may be disconcerting." Link watched as he seemed to focus, adopting a clearly stylised pose before making a swift series of gestures Link had no hope of following. Magic seemed to momentarily twist the world around them, abrupt and dizzying, and – Link staggered, almost falling against the woman as the ground beneath his feet shifted – they were somewhere else, somewhere amidst tall trees.

"How-?"

Neither responded: Davar still seemed to be concentrating, and as Link watched, he did the same thing again, sweeping them away once more.

They reappeared in a partially open space, still between the trees, a cluster of tents partially suspended from branches at its edges, several low fires banked and smouldering smokelessly in the twilight gloom. A handful of people had frozen in the middle of their actions, all of them twisted to face the newcomers, and staring at them. With her free hand, the woman pointed urgently, and Davar turned, looking a little drained. He seemed to gesticulate rapidly at a tall woman advancing towards them, who halted, narrow-eyed, and gestured back.

"What's happening?" Link asked softly.

"We're explaining the situation." Her voice was the quietest Link had ever heard someone speak without whispering. She glanced swiftly to the other woman, whose stance had relaxed subtly, indefinably, and who made a quick gesture accompanied by a jerk of her head. "I will take you to a tent. Davar will finish explaining and catch up."

Link nodded, leaning heavily on her as she guided him around towards one of the patterned tents. They all looked a bit different in decoration, but he couldn't otherwise distinguish one from the other: they were of similar size and there was no sign he could read that might have said who they belonged to or what their purpose was. His escort swept the flap aside with a casual hand, and stepped in.

It was slightly warmer than the forest outside, and a lantern hung burning in the centre, although there was nobody there. A couple of low folding cots took up space towards the back, while the front contained an array of neatly-organised cloth containers in wooden frames. Link hadn't seen anything quite like them before. The woman helped him to the back and lowered him slowly onto the edge of one of the cots, where he sat with a sigh of relief, sinking back somewhat into the almost hammock-like suspended cloth.

Fi says I can trust them, he thought, slightly hazily. It wasn't his inclination to be suspicious of strangers, but after everything that had happened, after the old woman and the evil pillar, the goron and the bokoblins and the kikwis and the demon lord Ghirahim – the land below the clouds was too huge for him, spinning dizzyingly when he tried to grasp it all. Ghirahim looked almost like a human, but he wasn't. These people looked human too, but were they? Or were they something else, strange and different to the people of Skyloft? In a sudden, unlikely moment, he was among them. How had they done that? How had they brought him here?

Fi? Who are they? He didn't mean to speak almost the same words aloud, but they escaped before he had quite realised it. "Who are you?"

The woman looked almost embarrassed. "My apologies, chosen one – I am Ireya, and my companion who brought us here is Davar. We are of the Sheikah people, now sworn servants to the Goddess Hylia, like yourself." Her eyes slid briefly to the hilt of the sword visible over his shoulder, then back to his face. "For generations, we have lived and died in her service, waiting for this very moment."

Link didn't know what to say.

"You must let us see to your injuries. Please?"

That, he could answer, nodding wearily. "I'd be really grateful. Thank you."

Ireya smiled, unwinding the wrap around her head and face that proved to be a single long strip of concealing fabric dyed in softly blurring forest hues. Her hair, so pale as to be almost white, was mostly scraped back into a tight queue beneath it, loose strands escaping slightly wavily down the sides of her face. On her forehead, a tattoo of an eye with a teardrop falling from it almost seemed to gaze at Link even as her own red eyes turned to his boots.

Davar ducked under the tent flap while she was still unlacing the right one, waving off Link's somewhat embarrassed attempts to assist her. Like Ireya, he'd exposed his face fully, off-white hair drawn into a bun at the back of his head; like her, he bore a tattoo of a weeping eye. A third of the strange people – Sheikah – followed him, noticeably older with a receding hairline and lines deepening around the edges of his eyes and mouth, and an additional teardrop beneath his own eye as well as a forehead tattoo identical to the ones the other two bore.

The next several minutes were some that Link could have done without, as the two younger Sheikah half-stripped him and the elder cleaned the wound, deeper than he'd fully realised and it was all he could do not to scream at the redoubled pain. Finally, carefully holding the edges of the wound together, the surgeon nodded for him to drink the second and last bottle of medicine from Skyloft, and the pain finally ended, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its wake.

As the older Sheikah quietly wiped away the last of the blood and gathered up the water and cloths he'd used, Link looked down at his leg. There was nothing left to show for his injury but a thin, pale scar, healed cleanly.

"Thank you," he said quietly as the older man – he'd heard his name, but had forgotten it in everything that had followed – began to leave. He stopped, looking back, his words only just loud enough to reach Link's ears.

"You are welcome. It is our task to aid you. It is my honour."

Before Link could say anything much in response, he'd turned away again, slipping silently out of the tent and leaving him with the other two.

"You should rest now," Davar informed him, gently and as strangely-quietly as they had all spoken. "As Cadan said, sleep will finish restoring you." Cadan – that was his name. He'd said several things, none of which Link fully remembered. Behind Davar, Ireya was rummaging in one of the containers, drawing out a stack of folded undyed cloth. "We will repair your clothes and return them to you in the morning."

"You don't have to-" Link began, only to be cut off by a raised hand.

"As servants of the goddess, we are sworn to aid you, the one who bears her sword." Davar looked almost hopeful as behind him Ireya nodded.

"Well… all right. But, how can I repay you for your help – all of you?"

Very, very softly, Davar laughed. "Completing your appointed task will be repayment enough, this we can promise you."

"But we will speak more in the morning," Ireya added, quietly but firmly, as she rejoined them to place her stack of fabric on the bed: thick, warm-looking blankets, and an almost shapeless nightgown with the weeping eye sigil embroidered onto it in rather faded thread. "The fourth thing one must know is to sleep whenever the opportunity comes, for it may not come again." It had the sound of a well-worn saying, and Link was far too tired to argue.

Another couple of minutes later, he was lying down in the unexpectedly comfortable bed, with the lantern retrieved from its hook and placed on the ground beside him, and the Sheikah were gone. Those of his things they'd left behind were neatly placed beneath the bed, save for the sheathed Goddess Sword, which he'd quietly picked back up and set beside himself. Its presence was an odd kind of reassurance.

"Fi," he whispered, "who are the Sheikah?"

The hilt glowed faintly, and Fi appeared from it to float beside the bed, luminous in the pitch-black tent like the figure from the dream that hadn't been a dream on a Skyloft night.

"What do you wish to know about the Sheikah, Master Link?"

"I guess… where did they come from? How do they live here? How do they know about… about the destiny you told me about?"

Fi nodded once, pausing for a brief moment in the manner of a teacher beginning a lesson. "The people who now call themselves the Sheikah are a remnant priesthood of a fallen god. After the goddess gave them sanctuary, they rededicated themselves to her service and to her cause. When the majority of the population was lifted above the clouds, they volunteered to remain behind as guardians to await the appointed time and provide aid to yourself and Zelda. It is now apparent that they succeeded in this aim and are prepared to assist you where they are able. However, it is unclear how much information they will have retained over the centuries." She paused for a moment. "I previously surmised that the old woman we encountered at the Sealed Grounds is herself of the Sheikah, indicating that others of the same people would likely be present. It is probable that it is through her that they know of your arrival on the surface."

Link nodded tiredly. Fi's calm assessment of the situation once again felt somehow reassuring. "Should I tell them… where we're going?"

"You must make that judgement, Master. However, my analysis indicates that the probability of a negative consequence from doing so is below one percent."

There were more questions Link should ask, he felt certain… but his exhausted mind could no longer think of them.

"Thanks, Fi. I…" He fought back a yawn. "…If you… thanks, anyway. I think I… I'll try to rest."

"That is advisable, Master."

Despite everything, Link smiled. "Goodnight, Fi."

He was asleep almost the moment that his eyes closed.

A bit of a digression here, but fundamentally it's quite important that Impa not magically spring fully-formed from the aether, and if she didn't then she must have a people, and if she has a people then they must have a culture, and if they have a culture that she shares then they are probably all up for helping Link and Zelda out. In accordance with the prophecy. *shot*

Patch Notes:
- Sheikah population now at replacement levels; invisible ninjas made visible.
- Non-fatal injuries now still severe.