Chapter 27: A One-Sided Slaughter
The sudden rush of footsteps towards him shattered the tense silence. Noah's instincts, honed by his recent battles, flared to life. He pivoted, preparing to leap back and create distance, but then a thought struck him like a lightning bolt.
'Footsteps?'
Inwardly thanking King Rhoam, with a burst of adrenaline, Noah abandoned his original plan. Instead of jumping back which felt more natural, he threw himself into a sideways roll, tucking his body into a tight ball. A split second later, a golden blur of motion whipped past where his head had been. The dagger, wreathed in a shimmering golden aura thanks to magnesis, hung suspended in mid-air, seemingly held by an unseen force.
Noah didn't hesitate further. Spotting a decorative spear resting against the wall, he lunged for it, his muscles screaming in protest as he channelled every ounce of his remaining strength into a powerful throw. A sharp pain ripped through his side, the exertion reopening the wound from the Lizalfos claws.
The spear flew through the air, aimed not at the visible dagger but at the invisible figure holding it. The attacker, startled by Noah's unexpected counterattack, barely managed to dodge the projectile. The spear embedded itself in the wall with a resounding thud, mere inches from where the figure had been standing.
Noah's eyes darted to Impa, who remained seated on her platform, her expression unreadable. Her calm demeanour in the face of this sudden attack spoke volumes, she was clearly indifferent to the outcome.
'If she's not interfering, she must be tactfully allowing this' Noah thought, his mind racing. 'But why? Killing me makes no sense.'
But then another thought struck him, cold and sharp. 'Ah, wait... didn't I just throw my only weapon?'
Noah, realising his mistake, quickly scanned the room for another weapon, but it was too late. The dagger, now a blur of golden light, was already upon him. He barely had time to raise his arms in a desperate attempt to shield himself.
The dagger struck, not with a piercing blow, but with a glancing impact against his raised arm. A sharp pain shot through Noah's shoulder, his unhealed wounds making him sluggish and vulnerable. He cried out, stumbling backward and nearly losing his footing.
The assassin could sense its wounded prey and took advantage of his vulnerability and pressed the attack. Noah could only track the movements of the dagger, its ghostly glow illuminating a deadly dance of thrusts and slashes. He twisted and turned, his movements clumsy and desperate.
"Yield, Hero." the assassin hissed, their voice a chilling whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, as their blade drew blood into Noah's forearm.
Noah gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain that flared with every move. 'I ain't doing shit!' he snarled internally. He parried another thrust, the dagger's edge grazing his arm, leaving a thin trail of blood.
His body, battered and bruised from the battle at the Wall, was failing him. Surrendering might be the logical choice, but Noah was far too stubborn for that. He needed a strategy, a way to turn the tide in his favour. His eyes darted around the room, searching for anything that could give him an edge.
Until such a strategy appeared, Noah was stuck in a losing battle of attrition. He threw a desperate punch, his fist connecting only with air. The force of the swing sent another jolt of pain through his injured abdomen. He had to end this quickly.
'Damn it! The assassin is using a dagger, so I'd prefer to stay out of their range, but they clearly have range attacks which makes it more dangerous!' Noah analysed.
As the assassin continued to swipe and slice into Noah's skin, each dodge, each parry, came at a painful cost. This wasn't like facing a Bokoblin, whose predictable movements and limited intelligence made them easy targets. This was a skilled warrior, their movements fluid and their attacks relentless. Noah could barely block the glowing dagger, let alone anticipate the physical blows that came from his unseen assailant.
The realisation hit him nearly as hard as a physical blow. He was outmatched, outmanoeuvred, and utterly vulnerable. The training he'd received from King Rhoam had taught him the basics of combat, but it was no match for the assassin's honed reflexes and deadly precision.
At present Noah could only block the dagger, by sacrificing parts of his body to feed it but every punch, kick and slap from the assassin was going straight through his defences, he couldn't block a single one! He was a puppet, dancing to their tune, a prey animal desperately trying to outrun the predator.
The only reason Noah had survived to this point, was that his assassin was focused on using their dagger to attack.
But even as the dagger flashed towards him once more, a new thought emerged from the fog of pain and desperation. "It's too quiet," he muttered through gritted teeth, his ears straining for any sound beyond the rhythmic clash of steel against stone as his eyes flashed to the entrance.
Desperation fuelled a surge of ingenuity. As the assassin lunged again, Noah feigned a stumble, luring them in with the illusion of vulnerability. Then, with a burst of speed that belied his injuries, he sidestepped the attack, his hand snatching the bedsheet that served as his only garment.
With a triumphant cry, he flung the sheet over the attacker, the fabric enveloping them in a blinding shroud of white leaving Noah in his underwear. The assassin let out a startled gasp as their movements faltered, their momentum momentarily disrupted.
Noah who could now briefly see the outline of their body slammed his bruised shoulder into the shrouded figure, knocking them backward. The tapestry tangled around their limbs, hindering their movements. Noah followed through with a powerful kick to the hidden air, sending the assassin sprawling to the floor.
Noah lunged again, eager to press his advantage, but the assassin backflipped onto their feet, recovering with a startling speed. The bedsheet was flung back at him, blinding him as a swift kick was heading towards him.
The world exploded in pain as the assassin's kick landed squarely in Noah's gut. He doubled over, gasping for air, his vision swimming. The dagger's glint was a final warning before darkness threatened to consume him.
But just as the assassin was about to deliver the final blow, their hand faltered impacting their speed. Noah, through the haze of pain, noticed a flicker of hesitation in their movement. It was the smallest of windows, but it was all he needed.
Summoning the last dregs of his energy, Noah rolled to his side and grabbed his Sheikah Slate from his underwear, his vision blurring as his right eye turned brown as he frantically activated the Bright Step rune. A disorienting sensation of vertigo washed over him, his surroundings dissolving into a swirling vortex of colours and light.
He reappeared a split second later, the searing pain in his stomach momentarily forgotten. The assassin laid in Noah's previous position, the frozen dagger indicating they were stunned from the effects of Bright Step. Noah reacted first instinctively activating Magnesis upon materialising, yanking the decorative spear from the wall and into his grasp.
But as he turned to face his opponent, a wave of embarrassment washed over him, courtesy of the usage of Bright Step. He was standing there, weapon in hand, clad in nothing but his underwear and bandages.
Noah became extremely self-conscious and shy about his appearance which briefly outweighed the imminent threat to his life.
Noah's hesitation proved costly. The assassin, recovered from Bright Step and recovered from their own surprise and used his distraction to execute a nimble roll backwards, evading the spear's reach and putting distance between them.
Undeterred, Noah used Magnesis once more, this time on the assassin's dagger. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the weapon flying across the room, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
"Yield! Assassin!" he declared, echoing the assassin's earlier taunt. "You have no weapon!"
But his bravado was a facade. Inwardly, he was panicking. Caught within the heat of the battle, he had forgotten that without the dagger Noah had no idea where the assassin was. He only knew because the dagger glowed thanks to magnesis as a visual cue. In addition, his injuries had already begun impacting his movements, if he was forced to continue fighting, he wouldn't last another 30 seconds.
The assassin didn't know that however, or so Noah hoped.
His heart pounded as he strained his ears, listening for the slightest sound, any indication of their position. A chilling silence descended upon the room as the assassin vanished. Noah, his heart pounding in his chest, turned to Impa, his voice laced with a desperate bravado. "I won your stupid test, didn't I? Can we end this charade now?"
Impa, her expression inscrutable, leaned forward, a sly smile playing on her lips. "And why, pray tell, do you believe this was a test?"
Noah, still struggling to catch his breath, gestured towards the door. "Those fancy guards of yours outside," he accused, "they're conveniently ignoring the fact that I was just attacked in the same room as you. Seems they were instructed to, wouldn't you agree?"
Impa's smile widened. "That doesn't necessarily mean I don't intend to kill you," she retorted, her tone teasing yet laced with a hint of menace.
Noah, despite the pain throbbing through his body, couldn't help but chuckle. "True," he conceded, "but I'm sure you're dying to ask a few questions. Questions a corpse can't answer." He paused, then added with a wink, "Besides, you seem far too nice to let me die."
Impa's eyes widened momentarily, a genuine surprise flickering across her face. Then, a hearty laugh erupted from her, echoing through the otherwise silent chamber. "Nice?" she repeated, wiping a tear from her eye. "Well, I suppose you've caught me there, young man."
The tension in the room eased slightly as Impa extended a hand towards the still-cloaked figure. "That's enough," she declared, her voice regaining its authority. "You can reveal yourself now."
A wave of relief washed over Noah. 'Did I win?' he thought, a triumphant smile tugging at his lips.
"You may have disarmed your opponent," Impa continued addressing Noah her tone stern, "but your victory was fleeting. Had I not intervened, your confidence would have been your downfall."
"What?" Noah blurted out, his smile fading as a wave of confusion washed over him.
"Damn it!" A frustrated female voice rang out from behind him.
Noah's eyes widened in shock as he turned to see a fist paused towards the back of his head. The assailant, now fully visible, was a young Sheikah woman dressed in a form-fitting black bodysuit with sleek armour plating and bandages wrapped around her arms. A red Sheikah symbol adorned her chest, and her white hair was styled in three distinct sections: the front pulled back, the back in a bun, and the rest flowing freely down her back.
The sight of her outfit, so strikingly similar to Link's "Stealth Set" from the game, sent a shiver down Noah's spine. In the assassin's other hand held a wet paper parchment inscribed by symbols Noah didn't recognise, which burnt and faded away.
Her face was covered, per the Sheikah fashion sense but Noah could see her red eyes which glared at him.
Noah couldn't help but groan inwardly, piecing together what had occurred in his head. By removing the assassin's weapon, he forced her to close the distance and while Noah thought he held her at a standstill, he failed to notice the assassin repositioning herself behind him, ready to strike. The woman, now standing over him with a look of utter shame, was clearly distraught at her own performance.
"I..." she spat; her voice venomous with self-loathing. "I couldn't do it…" she mumbled. "I even allowed myself to be disarmed. I've been humiliated."
Impa observed the scene with a calm, almost detached demeanour. "You underestimated your target," she said, her voice a gentle reprimand. "Your persistence clouded your judgment and your continued habit of becoming flustered leads to hesitation that in normal cases would prove to be fatal."
"You only won this because Link allowed you to," Impa chimed in, her voice sharp with disappointment.
Noah's eyebrows shifted upon hearing that last part.
"I'm sorry, I failed you once more." the assassin mumbled, bowing her head in shame.
"Have no fear, my child," Impa said, her voice softening. "Take this as a lesson and learn from your mistakes. You have the potential to become one of our best. Thank you for watching over Link. You may go."
The words "watching over Link" struck a chord in Noah's memory. He suddenly recalled a fleeting glimpse of a similar dagger during the battle at the Wall, lodged deep in the skull of a Silver Moblin.
'She was fighting alongside me?' he thought, a wave of gratitude and confusion washing over him. 'From what point? She must've been tasked to ensuring my survival.'
The assassin, surprisingly didn't disappear in a puff of smoke like the movies but rather bowed at Impa, took a quick curiosity glance at Noah before exiting through the main door, leaving Noah alone with Impa. The silence stretched between them,
The silence that followed was almost deafening. Noah, still nursing his aching ribs, looked up at Impa. "Forgive me if I'm blunt," he began, his voice laced with incredulity, "But were we watching the same fight? She was kicking my ass the entire time! And I already said I'm not Link."
Impa chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Fear not, Link" she reassured him. "Your life was never truly in danger."
"Certainly didn't feel like it," Noah muttered under his breath, rubbing his bruised ribs.
"Perhaps you could explain what just happened?" he asked, his tone a mixture of confusion and annoyance.
"You're owed at least that much," Impa conceded. "But first, let me tend to your wounds." She rose from her seat and approached him, her movements slow but steady. Her hands, weathered by time but surprisingly gentle, worked quickly, applying soothing balms and bandages to his injuries.
As Impa tended to his wounds, her touch surprisingly gentle despite her earlier harsh words, she spoke in a low, measured tone. "I apologise for the ordeal you endured, young one," she said, her voice laced with regret. "It was not my intention to cause you harm. However, your claims raised questions that could not be answered with mere words."
She paused, her fingers carefully applying a soothing balm to a particularly nasty gash on his stomach. "You see," she continued, "I have spent the last century gathering information, studying prophecies and ancient texts, preparing for the Hero's return. Everything I have learned pointed towards you, Link. Yet, you denied your identity with a conviction that shook my certainty."
Impa's gaze met his, her eyes filled with a wisdom that transcended age and experience. "I had to test you, to see for myself the truth of your claims. It was a crude method, I admit, but it was the only way to ascertain the truth, beyond any shadow of a doubt."
She continued, her voice a soft whisper. "I am intimately familiar with Link's fighting style, his instincts, his very essence. I needed to see if those same qualities resided within you." A sad smile touched her lips. "It seems," she added, "it's hard to tell."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "You could have told me that before throwing me into a sparring match with an assassin," he grumbled.
Impa chuckled again. "You're fighting style was... intriguing," she said. "Link fought like a relentless force of nature, a stone wall against the darkness. You, on the other hand, were more akin to a cornered animal, fighting with desperate ferocity to protect what little you have."
"It was like watching a circus," Impa remarked, laughing to herself. "A chaotic battle of bedsheets and flailing limbs."
Thanks, Granny," Noah muttered under his breath, a touch of annoyance mixing with the lingering sting of embarrassment.
"So," Impa said, her voice turning serious, "why don't we start from the beginning, child? Tell me everything. From the moment you awoke in the Shrine."
"Try not to fall asleep," Noah quipped,
Noah didn't hesitate to recount his entire journey. He told her about awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection, his encounter with King Rhoam, including his fall into the malice, his meeting with Christa and Neph, and the battles at the Wall. He also shared about sharing memories with Link and his brief encounter with Calamity Ganon.
The only details he refrained from mentioning was explicit details of his previous life and the video game origins of this world. It was too fantastical, too unbelievable, even for someone like Impa.
As Noah spoke, Impa listened intently, her expression a mask of concentration. When he was finished, she sat in silence for a long moment, her fingers drumming a rhythmic beat on the arm of her chair.
"A fascinating tale," Impa concluded, her voice laced with a hint of wonder. "And one that raises many questions."
"You believe me?" Noah asked, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes.
Impa's gaze softened, a hint of pity colouring her expression. "I apologise, my child," she said gently, "but that... is a leap of faith even I cannot make."
Noah's heart sank as he absorbed her words, a wave of despair washing over him. He'd hoped for understanding, for validation, but all he found was doubt.
"Don't misunderstand," Impa quickly added, her voice filled with warmth. "I believe that you genuinely believe you're from another world. But belief, however sincere, does not always equate to truth."
Noah's frustration bubbled to the surface. "But I know it's true," he insisted, his voice rising. "I have memories, a whole life that doesn't fit in this world. I don't recognise anything here..."
He trailed off, realising his words were falling on deaf ears. Impa's empathetic expression remained unchanged, a patient listener but not a convinced one.
"What makes you so certain my words aren't true?" Noah asked, his voice now becoming progressively more desperate.
Impa sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "The Shrine of Resurrection was a gamble," she admitted, her voice heavy with the weight of a century-old burden. "We discovered it shortly before the Calamity and used it as a last resort for Link. There was never any guarantee that he would awaken, let alone how the process would affect his mind and spirit."
She leaned forward, her eyes locking with his. "The concept of another world, one that you describe, is far less likely than the possibility that the Shrine has somehow... altered your perception of reality. I simply don't have enough information to determine the truth."
Noah clenched his fists, a surge of anger and frustration rising within him. His very existence, his identity, was being questioned, dismissed as a mere side effect of ancient technology.
"I'm not Link!" he blurted out, his voice raw with emotion. "And I never will be."
Impa observed him with a calm, but warm expression, like caring for a disturbed child. Then, she leaned back, her voice softening. "Then tell me, young one," she said, "in this previous life you so vividly recall, what were you?"
Noah hesitated, the question catching him off guard. "I was... a student, or a scholar in your terms" he finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
"And as a scholar, did you have any training with combat? With the swordsmanship you displayed just a few minutes ago?" she asked.
"Well, no but that's because King Rhoam trained me" Noah countered quickly, hoping to deflect her scrutiny.
Impa's lips quirked into a wry smile. "In two days?" she asked, her tone dripping with doubt. "Perhaps he taught you some basic swordsmanship, but did he also teach you how to dodge and roll like a seasoned warrior? How to wield a spear with such precision? What about your uncanny ability to anticipate and counter or parry your opponent's moves?"
Noah's confidence wavered as he struggled to reply, Impa was more logical than Noah anticipated, but where his confidence wavered was his inability to answer her questions.
"It... it was Link's body," he stammered, grasping at straws. "Muscle memory... instinct..."
Impa raised an eyebrow, her scepticism evident. "Instinct?" she echoed. "A body without a mind to guide it is but an empty vessel. Yet you ask me to believe that this vessel, this body, acted on its own accord, without your conscious will?"
Noah fell silent, the weight of her words crushing his resolve. He had no answers, no explanations that could bridge the chasm of disbelief that separated them, Noah felt as if he was on a tightrope about to fall into despair.
"From my perspective, you… are Link." Impa declared, looking at Noah kindly but with pity.
A wave of anger and frustration surged through Noah. 'No, no…' he screamed silently, clinging desperately to his identity. He was Noah, not Link. He refused to let Impa's doubts chip away at the core of his being.
He could vividly recall his life on Earth – his childhood, his family, even the embarrassing moments like the time he accidentally sent a video of himself singing Frozen's "Let It Go" to his crush in middle school. These memories, so vivid and detailed, couldn't be mere fabrications conjured by some ancient technology.
Impa's words, though logical, felt like a personal attack. It wasn't just his past she was questioning, but his very existence, his right to claim his own identity. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to maintain his composure.
'This world is nothing more than a fantasy from a video game, yet you tell me my life is the lie?' His anger begun to swirl, overwhelming the despair.
He knew, rationally, that Impa was right. Perhaps in different circumstances Noah could easily see him in her position saying the same words. His actions, his abilities, defied any reasonable explanation. He couldn't deny the lingering unease, the gnawing doubt that perhaps the Shrine of Resurrection had indeed altered his mind, reshaping his memories and identity into something... unrecognizable.
But he couldn't accept that. If he surrendered to that doubt, to the possibility that he wasn't truly himself, what would be left?
In reality, Noah blamed himself. The questions Impa were asking was all questions Noah had asked himself in the past, but he opted to ignore them and procrastinate them, and his lack of preparations and answers were now coming back to haunt him.
Impa, sensing his inner turmoil, softened her gaze. She leaned back, her posture less rigid, a hint of empathy in her eyes. "You are troubled," she said gently. "But do not despair. Whether you are Link or not, you have shown great courage and compassion."
Her assurance did little to soothe Noah's unease. He remained hunched over, his gaze fixed on the floor, lost in a whirlwind of confusion and doubt.
"So," Impa continued, her voice taking on a more pragmatic tone, "What do you desire from me? What do you seek in my world?"
Noah's initial surge of anger subsided, replaced by a weary resignation. Impa's words, though harsh, were not without merit. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to silence the emotional turmoil within.
Yes, her questions were blunt, even cruel. But they were also undeniably fair. He couldn't fault Impa for her scepticism, her need for answers in the face of her own world teetering on the brink of calamity. He was an anomaly, an unknown variable in the body of the hero that was supposed to save her own world. It was only natural for her to question, to probe, to seek the truth beneath the layers of his fragmented situation.
Despite the sting of her disbelief, Noah could sense a genuine concern beneath her stern facade. It was in the subtle softening of her eyes, the slight hesitation in her voice. Impa might not accept his story, but she hadn't dismissed him entirely.
His gaze lifted, meeting Impa's with a mixture of desperation and newfound resolve. "I'd appreciate it if you could... help me..." he began, his voice still shaky but firmer than before.
"How?" Impa pressed, her tone gentle but firm, like a grandmother coaxing a confession from a child.
Noah's mind raced, but the answer remained elusive. How could Impa, actually help him? Had he actually considered that? Just as Noah placed a grip on his emotions, Impa unintentionally smacked him back down.
"I don't know," he finally admitted, the weight of his helplessness crushing him.
Impa let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. "So you expected me to simply know?" she asked, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "I didn't even consider the possibility of other worlds a few minutes ago, yet you stumble into mine, inhabiting the body of a hero this world desperately needs, and you don't have a plan?"
A knot of shame tightened in Noah's stomach. He'd been so consumed by the need to meet Impa that he'd neglected to think beyond that initial step.
"You're an idiot," Impa scolded, her voice sharp but not unkind. "And cruel."
Noah's head dropped lower, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't know where else to go."
Impa's hand gently rested on his head, a gesture both comforting and firm. "No, you've done good," she said, her voice softening. "You were thrown into an unfamiliar world, filled with dangers at every corner. You faced adversity with courage and saved the lives of my people. For that, I am in your debt."
Noah looked up, confusion clouding his features. "But you don't believe me?"
Impa shook her head. "I trust in your word, but logically, I don't. But whether your story is true or not, you experienced it as reality. And you acted with bravery and compassion, regardless of your origins."
She paused; her gaze unwavering. "I cannot help you return to this... other world you speak of. In truth, I was hoping you could help me."
"Me?" Noah asked, incredulous.
"Yes," Impa replied. "You may not be entirely aware of it, but you are the hero I've been expecting. Maybe not how I thought, but you still possess the body and skills that were inherent to Link, and you could prove invaluable to Hyrule."
Noah's heart sank. He had hoped for a way out, but it seemed his fate was intertwined with this world's destiny.
"How about a deal?" Impa proposed, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "I will search the Sheikah archives and religious texts for any information that might shed light on your circumstances. In return, you will come here every day and participate in training."
"Training?" Noah asked, a sense of foreboding washing over him.
"Everything and anything," Impa replied with a sly smile. "Combat, survival, Sheikah technology... the works."
"But I'm not Link," Noah protested, the meaning in his words clear: 'I'm not a Link, don't try to mold me into him.'
Impa chuckled. "Once again, I'm not forcing you. But what if the answers you seek require you to leave the safety of Kakariko? Bandits, monsters, and cultists roam the land. A bit of training wouldn't hurt, would it?"
Noah knew her intentions, because he was obviously unwilling to become the next Link, she's splitting the difference by giving him what he wants, on the condition she does something she wants. While it's not an acceptance of the goal of saving Hyrule from her perspective it's a start. Perhaps over-time she'll attempt to coax Noah into it.
'Give him an inch and he'll take a mile' Noah voiced a familiar saying. But he also lacked little option to say no. She was right to a degree. This world was dangerous, and he needed to be prepared for whatever lay ahead.
Still didn't like it though.
"Alright," he conceded with a sigh. "I'll train. But don't expect me to become some legendary hero."
Impa's smile widened, the lines around her eyes crinkling with amusement. "We shall see, young one. We shall see." She paused, her gaze lingering on Noah's makeshift attire. "In the meantime, I'll arrange suitable accommodations for you. And perhaps," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "we can find you something a bit more... substantial to wear."
Noah's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "That would be appreciated," he muttered, tugging at the edges of his makeshift toga. "Being in a new world is less glamorous when you're practically naked."
Impa chuckled, her laughter warm and reassuring. "Indeed," she agreed. "But there will be time for such trivialities later. For now, rest and recuperate. Your body needs time to heal, and your mind... well, that might take a bit longer."
Noah nodded, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on him, both physically and emotionally.
"Aren't you going to tell me?" he began, his voice hesitant, "About the state of Hyrule? What's happened in the past hundred years?"
Impa's smile faded, her expression turning sombre. "That, my child, is a tale for another time," she said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "When you are ready to embrace it. When you accept the path that lies before you, then you will have the right to know the full truth."
"By the way..." Impa's voice regained its earlier playfulness. "How did you know the dagger was coming from behind you? Or even see her at all?"
Noah chuckled wryly. "It reminded me of when King Rhoam had hunted me in the woods after the Malice had taken hold of him. He manipulated my movements by baiting me with feints, only to strike from an unexpected angle. So when that Assassin, which up this point had been following me with unnatural and complete silence, started making noise it was a clear giveaway of their intention to attempt to misdirect me which only told me the real attack would come from somewhere else."
"Behind me was the only spot I couldn't see, as for how I saw her I didn't. The Sheikah Slate allowed me to see her weapon." Noah clarified.
"Ah," Impa nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I see. It seems the old fool still has a few tricks up his sleeve." Her voice turned sombre again. "I taught her that technique myself. I suppose I expected it to be... more effective."
'Did you want her to kill me?' Noah wondered silently, a chill running down his spine.
Impa stood up, her gaze unwavering. "Regardless," she said, "You have proven yourself resourceful and adaptable. But do not let your success blind you to the questions that you must answer. In the future, you must not simply go along with what is happening, but question, answer and understand it. Only then will you be in control. But have no worry, for I am your ally and this will be your home for now," Impa said, her voice warm and welcoming. "Rest well, Link. Your training will begin in time and we can also talk further on how I can help you tomorrow."
She turned to leave, then paused, her hand resting on the doorframe. "One more thing," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Do not let your doubts consume you, child. The path ahead may be uncertain, but your strength and courage will guide you."
With that, she closed the door, leaving Noah alone in the quiet room. He stood for a moment; his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, as he collapsed and laid on the ground. He didn't fail to recognise she still called him Link, despite mentioning his name.
"I'm… just going to rest here for a minute." He muttered to himself as his face covered the floorboards. "This one… will do, for a floor, obviously. A very fine floor, quite floor-ly in fact. If I were a floor, this would be the pinnacle of my existence."
"…"
"…Starting to lose it again." He muttered whilst holding back his own emotions.