Chapter 13: The Two Most Powerful Warriors are Patience and Time

"Apologies, your Highness," Rauru said as he shut the door behind him. "Jakob, the miller's boy, was having something of a crisis."

Zelda closed the book and frowned at her teacher. In truth she enjoyed her time alone. Free to sit amongst these artifacts of power and read Rauru's books on the art of magic. Some of the spells within made her mind spin with possibilities, how many plans she could enact to protect her kingdom without a trace. Ways to shape the very fabric of the world to her whim, it made her all the more eager to learn.

But hearing why her tutor delayed their lessons did not sit well. "Do you believe it proper to keep a princess waiting on behalf of a miller's son?"

Rauru smiled, but not the kind of smile Impa had when she gave a particularly clever retort, or the way her father used to. The priest had a habit of smiling just before he said something he thought was particularly wise. Zelda did not always agree with his assessment on his words.

"When you are bearing your soul to someone dear to you. Someone you trust. Should they abandon you because your father has a bellyache?"

"That's not the same thing at all."

"Is it not?"

"A princess and a king are closer to each other in status than a princess and a common-"

"Then imagine for a moment you aren't a princess."

Why would she ever need to do that? "Can we please just start with the lesson?"

"Very well, let's begin. Focus on your breathing. Breathe in, breathe out. Control of magic comes from control of yourself, and control of yourself comes through the breath. Breathe in, breathe out."

Zelda gave a look around the room of wands, books, masks, and instruments, sighed and closed her eyes. He always began this way. She suspected he did it just to delay so he could make up what to actually teach her. What if next time he made her wait, she started the breathing exercise so he must begin immediately with the actual lesson?

"Can you feel them?" he asked once he decided to move on.

"Yes," another frequent question of his. It made her wonder if he could not sense the magic around them without this exercise. The magic in this room swirled like a rippling wave through a pool. Each enchanted item ebbed toward her with their own distinctive signatures of power. From the warm and comforting, to demanding and controlling. The worst of them whispering to be used for some great or selfish purpose.

"Hold out your hands."

Zelda did as he asked, without opening her eyes. He placed something heavy and metallic on her outstretched palms. From the ornate surface to the thin taut strings, she knew he gave her the golden harp.

Of all the wondrous artifacts within the vault, Zelda favored the harp the most. It had an aura of joy and friendliness. It reminded her of a puppy exploring everything around it, always finding something to love no matter who held it. She plucked one of the strings and a deep and resonating note reverberated through the room, and the harp itself would have sung and danced if it could.

The only other items she felt near as inviting were a collection of arrows made of pure golden light. Those perhaps were the most noble of them all, though they felt harsher, austere. A gilded weapon forged to battle great evils, whoever made them left little room for the joys of music or wonder.

"We're not using one of the wands this time?" Zelda asked.

"No. You've made exceptional progress. The wands and staves are useful for training, their design is to allow magic to be drawn through them. However, to truly master a spell one should be able to take the power inside themselves to cast it. Let's see if you can create a simple node of light without the wand, but you may still draw from the ambient magic of the harp if you need to."

"But I've already mastered the light spell."

"You've learned it. I would not say you've mastered it."

"But I have. I've cast the spell in my own room with nothing but an oil lamp to channel my spell through."

"The light spell, princess."

No point arguing with him. Zelda's lip curled into a grin. She'd have to show him. If he thought all she could perform was a light spell then she'd show him his mistake. Over the last few weeks, she'd stolen away to the temple every chance she could. The priests welcomed her and let her read their books. She knew precisely the spell she could use to prove her aptitude. Something powerful, one to demonstrate her genius and skill to such a degree Rauru would have no choice but to teach her more interesting things.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

She plucked at the harp, and the magic within it sang as loud and beautiful as the strings themselves. Magic was energy, at its truest most basic form. She only needed to shape the energy around her, and the more she made, the more she could use. With each strum the magic tingled up her arms.

"Good," Rauru said. "Concentrate."

Breathe in. Breathe out.

She focused on the magic reverberating from within the harp, how long it laid dormant. How many uses did it have over the centuries? All the paths of destiny the harp may have taken if it fell into other hands. Where it was, where it is, where it could be.

Manipulating time required someone intelligent enough to make sense of its course. Someone who could imagine all the paths that destiny hurtled someone through.

And who had a mind keen enough for such an exercise if not she?

"Zelda?"

She plucked at the harp again, feeling the slight sting of the strings beneath her fingertips, and thought of the very moment before she strummed her first note.

The string stopped.

Everything stopped.

She peaked open her eyes and looked at her hands. The strings bellied out hanging a ways away from their position at rest. No sound came from the harp, and even the sense of its magic felt weaker.

Rauru stood frozen, his eyes mid-furrowed as he watched her. His mouth opened but what clearly would have been an admonishment never left his lips. In fact, nothing in the room moved. Specks of dust hung in the light. The thin almost imperceptible flow of air did not brush against her skin.

Even the call from the items of power faded. Their beckons drawn out into silent notes, as stretched as the harpstrings.

Then the string moved. Not fast. Slow enough she could walk around the entire room before it would again reach the center. It screeched out a discordant stretched noise that stung her ears. Why did it move so slow?

The spell was supposed to send her back through time just before she played on the harp. So Rauru would hear her play it twice at the same time. Perhaps it'd reach that point eventually, but how long would it take? How many times did a harpstring swing with each note plucked? It moved faster than the eye could see, it must be dozens, hundreds. And yet this one note had not gone through half of its distance.

She counted out the seconds until the string reached the zenith of its wave and rotated back toward the other side. About sixty-seven seconds, if time moved as it should. How fast did a string vibrate? She guessed two-hundred vibrations per second, though she plucked that number from thin air. That would leave her stuck here for almost four hours. And what if her guess was wrong?

She needed to speed this process up? If she went to the book, maybe she could read what went wrong. She could still fix this.

As she reached out, a single thrum of magic reached her. From the strongest and darkest artifact in the room. The heart-shaped mask did not move, but had its bulging eyes always been so bright?

That must be her answer. The most powerful tool available could fix whatever mistake she made. If she wore it, she could master everything that Rauru taught and beyond.

If she would only put on the mask.

Movement caught her eye. Rauru's hand twitched. She turned from the mask to her mentor. His expression hardened, his lips formed around a word. Still slowed and stretched out, but not going backwards like everything else. His eyes flashed with anger.

"Wwwwhhhhaaaaattttt," his voice pierced through the screech of the harp. "aaaarrre you doing!" his hand broke through some invisible barrier and waved over Zelda.

The spell dispersed. Zelda swung back to her seat, the harp on her lap, the last note she played hanging in the air as if nothing happened at all.

"Answer for yourself," Rauru shouted. "What madness was that?"

She'd never seen the old priest angry before. It almost gave her pause. Almost. "I was casting a spell!" Zelda stood up, fumbling with the harp so it wouldn't drop. "I was doing what you are supposed to be teaching me. And it was going to work."

"It was not. You were meddling with time without using a true anchor!"

"I did! I was only going back a few seconds. I'll get it next time."

"Give me that," Rauru tore the harp from her hands. "Do you have any idea how close you came to living the rest of your life like that? If I had not realized what you were doing," instead of finishing the thought he shook his head and returned the harp to its podium. Turning his back on Zelda. "Goddesses give me patience. This is why I have you working on the basics. Simple spells. You can't jump to the end of your training."

"Why not? I almost had it."

Rauru's head drooped, still not looking at her.

"Why do you think I have to keep working on this?" She held out her hand.

Light radiated from the light on the wall. Its own energy, which bounced over every surface, picking up colors as it traveled. When she extended her magic, she could feel the untapped potential of the light.

With a simple gesture, she ordered the light to obey her. It followed her will without hesitation. It leached away from the walls and far corners of the room, and condensed itself into a golden sphere that hung between her and Rauru. Bright and crackling with energy as it bobbed through the empty air.

Rauru sighed and turned back to face her and her spell.

"I can control it."

She made the ball fly toward his face, stopping a finger's width from his nose before swinging back to her hands.

Rauru's frown only deepened. He waved his hand before the ball of light. When nothing happened, his frown somehow found a way to get even more pronounced as he waved his hand again.

Her light dispersed.

"Princess," his words came out guarded and slow. As if preventing himself from shouting at her. "This is power, not control. You must learn that, not just of magic, but of yourself."

"What does that even mean? I'm not here to learn self-control, I am trying to protect my kingdom from its enemies. Are you going to help me achieve that, or not?"

Rauru sighed. "You have more potential within you than I have ever seen. It took me a year to learn what you accomplished in a week. My greatest student perhaps could cast the basics of a light spell in five months with the aid of a wand. You did that in a day. I know this must feel slow to you. But if you keep jumping from one thing to the next you will never master a spell. Here," he waved at the objects around them. "You drew on the light around you to make your own."

"That's the most efficient way."

"But it will not always be an option. Draw on the light of just the harp first. Then we'll move to non-magic light from a lamp. And once you've mastered that we'll try to see if you can create light from noth-"

"I don't have time for this!" How does no one understand? Why is everyone so slow? "Dragmire is out there now with a plot I have yet to completely uncover. I think – no – I know he started a war with moblins and I don't yet know why. Do you think I will be able to stop him with a light spell?"

"If that is your worry, we can try the basics of something else. Wards, perhaps? Something to help you protect yourself."

"I need something that will guarantee my victory. Show me time magic. This is the Temple of Time, is it not?"

He shook his head. "Zelda, time magic does not guarantee victory. This is a power even the Three Goddesses rarely used. Hylia and her champion may have only used it once in all recorded history. And that was to rid the world of demons." He positioned a chair across from the one Zelda stood before and sat, gesturing for her to do the same. "Let's start from the beginning. Why do you think this place was named the Temple of Time in ages past?"

She sat, forcing herself to calm. Rauru is trying to teach me. Even if he's stubborn and slow, he's still the best mentor I have. One of the more annoying things about these clandestine lessons was she had no hold over him. If he refused to teach her and decided to send her back to the castle, what could she do? Her other tutors all held their positions on the pleasure of her father, and kept in her good graces. But Father Rauru made her feel powerless. For now, she must behave as a good student and not let her annoyance get the best of her.

"Most temples follow a simple naming pattern, either named after the gods or goddesses they worship, or some divine patron. Usually one who is not a god themselves but some intermediary or honored past member of the temple's order."

"That is true, but tell me, do you think a past member of my order was named 'time'?"

"No. And time isn't a god, not even in the oldest texts I've looked through."

"So, we are not named as a normal temple. But you have not answered my question, why do you think we're named as we are?"

Zelda sighed, with Rauru's trepidation it seemed obvious now. "You protect it, the flow of time. But a group of priests wouldn't just decide to bare that responsibility alone. So, this was a charge given to you by someone. The Golden Three?"

"Very good," Rauru smiled. "Hylia actually, after the Three departed these lands. Back when the ground was new, and the demons had been locked away. Or so my order believes. The details do get a bit messy going that far back. But our records do contain a list of every known attempt to shape time since Hylia ascended and the damage they caused. Some in my order theorized every attempt to do so has split the world apart."

"What does that mean?"

"This is one of the more complicated topics. Most disciples of the order don't learn it until they've trained for years."

"Then you should have told me weeks ago."

Rauru chuckled. "One of the great debates amongst scholars of my order, there were some that believe we live in the timeline of chaos. Centuries ago, Hylia and her champion used the Triforce to expunge the demons and all their ilk. But one survived, stole the Triforce for himself and wished to return to the time before the demons were destroyed and brought his master back."

"But the King of Demons was defeated. Everyone knows the story of Hylia and her champion."

"And so they were, once more. But we live in that time when the demon stole the Triforce to resurrect his master. And so the taint of demons lives with us still. Remaining in the foul creatures that roam the outskirts of civilization, the moblins and octorok and their like."

"And the Gerudo?"

"No," Rauru said sharply, his smile disappearing, disappointed that Zelda would suggest such a thing. "They are people like any other. A people who live a harsher life than any deserve. But that's a different lesson. Let us remain focused on the question at hand. If we live in the world where the demon king was resurrected, however briefly, what happened to the time where that never happened? Where he remained locked away forever?"

Zelda took a moment to think through all the implications of Rauru's question. "Are you telling me, there is another Hyrule somewhere? A Hyrule with no moblins or monsters of any kind?"

"Possibly. The story is as old as this temple, perhaps older. Even if I taught you every spell within these walls there is no way to travel back and check for ourselves. But as a story, it shows how fragile this world is. Selfishly manipulating time ripped paradise away from us. So, Princess, I will not teach you anything related to it. Not for a long time."

"Zelda," Impa's voice came from outside the room. "If you wished to continue our other training, we will need to start soon."

"But think what I could do with that. I could stop the Gerudo before they even began the war."

The priest shook his head. "Then you have missed the lesson. That'll be all for today. Think upon what I have told you. There is no shame in practicing the fundamentals of a craft. Especially one as dangerous as magic."

He got up from his chair and held out his hand to help Zelda do the same. She took it, though she had no need of help lifting herself from the chair. Together they left the room and greeted Impa outside.

"How was she?"

"Her talent is immeasurable. But she must learn patience."

"Her other tutors thought much the same."

"Well, she is still young."

"I'm right here," Zelda said. "I hate it when adults talk as though I can't hear you."

"Being young is no excuse. I suppose I'll try to beat that lesson into her."

"Beat?" Zelda said.

"I wish you luck. I fear you have a far more difficult lesson than I."

"I'm still listening!" Zelda walked past Impa toward the Door of Time and the stairs that led to the rest of the temple. She did her best to ignore its pull, the growing sense of magic that beckoned to her from the other side of the Door. Rauru and Impa still talked as she reached the stairs. Just like adults, one moment they're running out of time, the next they have to gossip with each other.

She sat on the stone stairs and looked at the Door. The precipice of Time and the Sacred Realm. What could I do if I opened it? Thoughts of the Three Goddesses granting her their power, of manipulating the very flow of time. She could wipe out Ganondorf's plans before they had even begun. She could fix every problem with Hyrule, turn it into that lost paradise. Her rule could go back hundreds of years before she was even born.

She could see her mother.

Rauru's warnings echoed in her ears, but with the blessing of the Goddesses, wouldn't it all work out?

As she gazed upon the stonework, she heard them again. The three voices all singing in their beautiful harmony. Muffled behind the Door, incomprehensible, but still there. Yearning for her, specifically her. Their 'precious gift'. Why couldn't she learn the rudimentary details of that kind of magic yet? Wouldn't it be better if she mastered as much of it as she could now? Not when Rauru thought her ready, but now.

What if I'm not meant to have the Triforce? She was Chosen, whatever that meant. But Chosen for what? It could be the Triforce, but it could be anything else. Were there other Chosen throughout history? Since childhood she'd heard tales of great queens and mighty knights of Hyrule who battled against monstrous beasts and evil usurpers. Many declared that their skills and success came from gifts granted by the Golden Three or Hylia. But where those legends empty words, or were they the same as her?

Perhaps, Ganondorf was the evil now, and she the weapon of the Goddesses to defeat him? But the singing gave her no answers. The promise of wisdom to right all the wrongs of the world, of sacred knowledge no other possessed.

"Zelda," Impa said, and the singing silenced. She stood over Zelda, frowning. "Where was your head? I called your name several times."

"Oh," she stood up. "Just thinking, I suppose." The pair walked up the stairs. "So, what will you be teaching me today? How to tell a convincing lie, how to move unseen?"

"Patience."

Zelda sighed. "You were serious then. You said you'd teach me the skills of a Needle."

"I am," Impa said. No matter how Zelda asked, her guardian refused to elaborate. Instead she just told her to wait. Which only made Zelda more impatient, the irony not lost on her.

When they reached the castle grounds, several of the guards gave respectful bows and let her pass without comment. Impa led her not into the keep itself, but to the courtyard. Only stopping at the stone bench that sat on a small platform in the very center.

A place Zelda passed a hundred thousand times or more. She never gave it much thought. From the bench she could look over every section of the courtyard from the gardens to the guards stationed at the entrance.

"Sit," Impa said. She looked about them, giving harsh looks to anyone who drew too close. Only when absolutely no one stood near enough to hear them did she finally talk. Her voice low as if the information she gave was the most important in the world. "You are to remain in the courtyard until I come and get you. Try and find everything remotely interesting within the grounds, and all the people within. Continue until I fetch you for supper." Then she turned and walked away.

"What?" Zelda stood up to follow her. "This is the lesson? Just stay here? How is this teaching me anything?"

Impa turned back around, folding her arms. "You're a clever girl. I'm certain you'll figure it out."

"You're punishing me, aren't you? What did I do?"

Impa took a deep calming breath. "Princess, this is your next lesson. If you dislike it, then I will find some other tutor for you."

Zelda groaned, but she went back to the bench and sat down. Impa gave her a small smile as she left, some little sign that as dull as this task would be, she did not mean to be cruel. But that only made Zelda angrier. This wasn't about teaching her patience, this was torture. Her first hour she filled with silent rage, learning nothing, noticing little. Only when her legs felt numb did she decide to walk around to get some blood back into her limbs and maybe figure out what Impa wanted from her.

The two palace guards seemed the most obvious place to start. She tried to get them to talk to her, and they did, it was their duty to obey royalty after all, but they didn't tell her anything new or interesting. And nothing remotely close to important. One of them she had never met before, so she struck a conversation with him. He introduced himself as Straia, a common born teenager whose face still bore pimples. One of the many new guards and servants chosen to replace though lost in the assault of the moblins two weeks prior. He spoke at length of some delusion of his to become a knight. She let him down gently. In her entire life she'd only known two commoners ever get knighted. One saved her father during a battle, and the other lost a hand and foot in the assault.

Apparently, he had fought like ten men with his leg crushed and did not falter until he lost his hand as well. Her father knighted the man himself the next day and said in the ceremony that it was too little to honor the man's sacrifice.

Some upstart from the city slums who didn't look too impressive in his new armor did not seem likely to win such honors. That said, even after she told him how unlikely his ascension would be, he kept talking about it. As delusional as he obviously was, she couldn't help but hope he would succeed.

Once the conversation ran far beyond its normal course, she excused herself and took to questioning the various servants and nobles that wandered through the grounds. When the Countess Montebray came through, she seemed distracted and distant. The elder noblewoman at least had the good graces to bring up a reason to leave, mumbling something about her daughter.

A moment later Selli the kitchenhand wandered into the courtyard, she'd been crying by the look of her. She found a small out of the way spot in the gardens and sat down. Zelda thought for a moment that she should follow the servant and see what's wrong, but she clearly did not wish to speak to anyone.

But what if Impa wished to know if I'm willing to get in the good graces of those unwilling? She took a few steps toward Selli but stopped. No, that would mean Impa either knew ahead of time that Selli would come here, or she made the kitchenhand cry herself. Neither seemed likely.

She returned to the bench. No new faces traveled through the courtyard and the guard had not changed their shift. She took to analyzing the plants and stone, and the way the vines crawled up the castle walls. Or she glared at the spots of mud where too many people trampled over the grass.

This is so boring! What did this have to do with learning how to be a Sheikah?

Did learning that there's new guard matter? Unlikely, and nothing made the Straia boy stand out from the others. Or was it Selli being sad about something? Or that the Countess is worried about her daughter, even though that was likely just an excuse.

How was any of this a lesson? Something needed to be hidden in this. What was she missing?

"Hylia's crown." Zelda laid across the bench and stared at the sky. Nothing to do, nothing to learn. She could have spent her afternoon continuing with Rauru's lessons, or picking out new books from the library. That at least would have accomplished something. Judging by the sun she still had hours before supper and Impa's return. Perhaps she could sneak off somewhere to read and return with Impa none the wiser.

But no, Impa was smart. She probably paid the guards to inform her should Zelda leave the courtyard. If she wanted to learn anything more from her governess she'd need to stay put.

Footsteps plodded toward her, Zelda turned her head and watched Borra, one of the palace guards enter the courtyard and look around. His eyes met Zelda and gave her a respectful nod. But he did not seek her out, judging from his lack of armor. It took little thought to guess who he looked for.

"She's over there," Zelda said and pointed toward the gardens.

Borra gave her another nod before he headed after Selli. Zelda watched him walk past her, after all what else could she look at? Perhaps he caused Selli's sullen disposition. It didn't seem likely, the man adored her. But adults behaved funny with that sort of thing. As Borra passed a section of wall, Zelda stopped looking at him and instead fixated on the wall. A rectangular lane jutted out and reached from the foundation all the way to the top of the castle. Made of the same stone, roughly the width of two armored knights side to side.

"That … doesn't," she leaned forward and squinted at the wall. She knew the hall on the other side, it went straight and smooth, no indents, or side rooms, or anything. She stood up from her bench and walked to the strange stone lane. Her dress snagged on the bushes around this rectangular segment of wall. She pulled it loose, tearing it slightly. One of the castle seamstresses would fix it. She held her arms wide and couldn't quite touch the edges of the stone lane.

Just wide enough for an adult to squeeze through, assuming uniform thickness of the stone with the rest of the wall of course. Her eyes went wide as she realized what she discovered. One of the passages through the castle. Was this what Impa wanted her to figure out?

She backed away from the wall and almost fell over that accursed bush. Once she righted herself, she searched for some sign, some clue to an entrance. The architects of the keep had been geniuses from across the kingdom. They wouldn't make the entrance obvious, but they still built with stone and mortar. She saw no evidence of a means of making the lane itself open up, which meant it tunneled underground.

It would need support then, wouldn't it? A castle stood over it, filled with hundreds of people plodding around day after day. Without stone foundation and walls the tunnel would collapse over the centuries, assuredly. So she needed to figure which direction the stone supports went.

She knelt on the grass and plunged her fingers into the dirt beside the wall. The back of her hand scraping against the stones as she tore out clumps of loose soil. Digging until her hands were covered in muck, she didn't stop until she felt the edges of stonework beneath the dirt.

Just beneath the surface, the stone shifted directions away from the wall and toward the center of the courtyard. Zelda ran back, jumping over that blasted bush as she searched for the entrance. It couldn't be a normal patch of grass. Opening it would mean disturbing the dirt and would leave an obvious seam that anyone could find for weeks after using it once. It had to be something more permanent and easier to disguise, stone, or brick, or wood. And wood decayed over time, so stone or brick made the most sense.

She reached the bench and looked around. The few things made of brick she could see were nowhere near large enough for a grown man to squeeze into. That left stone, which proved more difficult, since stone walls surrounded the courtyard, and a stone walkway pass through it. First she stomped over the path, then she circled around the stone walls eyeing every surface.

"Princess," Straia said as she passed him. "Do you need-"

"I'm fine!" Zelda said without breaking her gaze. Even when she almost walked into one of the courtyards patrons she did not stop. They all must think her mad, or some child fooling around, but it didn't matter. She was close to something, she could feel it. Only, she circled the entire wall and found nothing. No strange sections jutting out just large enough for a person to get through. No signs of the stonework changing, or being too thick or thin on the other side. Nothing.

So not the wall. It must be somewhere within the courtyard itself. She returned to where she dug to uncover the stonework and aimed herself in the direction the tunnel must head. Straight through the center of the courtyard.

Oh, that was just mean, Impa. She huffed to the bench that sat in the very center. It rested atop several stones Zelda always thought leveled the ground. Now she knew they served another purpose.

She got on her knees and brushed around the stones beneath the bench. Just like the hidden door in the temple, some of the stones formed a perfect square that would swing open or closed without breaking. She brushed her fingers around the inner square. Most of it too thin to get her fingers within, until she found something that looked of solid mortar, but it pressed inward at her touch.

Her fingers forced themselves into the small hole and dug around until she heard a faint click.

The stones scraped against each other as they opened, revealing a dark tunnel. Zelda glanced about to see if anyone heard. The guards looked at her, but neither moved nor gave any indication of unease. They couldn't see what she did with the bench between them. She looked back down the square hole and took note of the flattened metal rings built into the tunnel to climb down.

With a satisfied smile, she swung her legs into the hole and descended. Each wrung of the rings required her to stretch to reach. Whoever built this ladder did not intend a child to climb it. When she reached the bottom, she touched down on rough dirt and pebbles. The light did not travel far from the hole, illuminating where Zelda stood and no more than a few paces beyond. But she knew the way, there wasn't anywhere else to go but straight ahead.

Touching the wall, she crept forward. It felt so much longer in the dark than it had above, but her hand smacked against a wall before her. Grasping around she found another ladder of wall-mounted rings. This one must lead straight up into the rectangular lane she noticed above. Fumbling through the dark she pulled herself up each elongated step. Until the air changed and she could feel the stone pressing around her, brushing against her dress as she climbed.

Each stretch made her heart pound harder and harder. There would be nothing in here but insects. And yet she had never felt so enclosed, the dark had never scared her before. And yet now, all she could think of was losing her grip, or her foot slipping on the metal rings, and she'd tumble down. How far had she climbed? Two stories? Three?

This might have been a bad idea, she thought, and yet she reached for the next rung just the same.

A sound came from above her. Soft, as if it traveled a long way through the tunnel just to reach her. Music, from a lute if she had to guess. Her hand found the next rung and pulled herself up. One more step, then another. The music came from overhead.

Such a familiar tune. The usually sharp staccato notes of the lute drew out into a melody long and slow. Never over-complicating the player with access notes or unnecessary flourishes, just a beautiful lullaby played by a master.

She closed her eyes, not that she could see anything anyway. Memories of the song came to her. Of long ago, when the thick arms of Chief Darunia encircled her, cradling her as though she were still a babe. A deep voice sang the lullaby while the Goron chief hummed along as best he could.

Then came another memory. Impa humming the tune while tucking Zelda into bed. No, not Impa. She never sang as far as Zelda remembered. Her father. They had spent the entire day out in the fields for some business of his. Yet he made certain that while he worked, she could run around and had games to play. When they returned to the castle, she could do nothing but curl up in her bed, exhausted from her busy day.

And last she remembered a woman's voice, distant, almost forgotten, singing the song along with the lute.

It was her song, her lullaby. She had not heard it in years. But who was playing it? She needed to find out. She reached up for the next rung but couldn't find it. She waved her arm over her head, but she felt nothing but the stone walls that encased her.

Light, I need light.

She searched around her, but even looking down she found no light to use. Nothing to draw closer to her. Maybe if she went back down, she could take light that shone from above ground and take that with her?

"No," she muttered. There is magic within her, Rauru had said that a dozen times or more. A true master would summon the energy from within themselves to create the light.

I can do this. Breathe in. Breathe out. She focused on her core, on her breathing. The music of the lute did not hamper her concentration but strengthened it. Urging her to dig deeper, to bring everything she had inside to bear. In front of her a single film of light flickered. A glimpse that let her see the dust and dirt covered stones around her before it died.

Deeper, more. Just a candle's worth of light and she could reach the top. The speck of light returned, waving, blinking in and out. She almost had it.

The lute stopped playing.

The light dispersed.

"No."

Too late. Perhaps if she rushed, she could find who played the song. The spell forgotten she groped in the dark for the next ring, but she couldn't find it. The song concluded, she was left alone in the dark.

She stayed there, hanging on the rungs of the ladder for some time. Hoping the lute would play again, but it never did.

"Princess Zelda?" came a voice from below her. "Princess? Princess Zelda?"

"I'm up here," Zelda called down.

"I found her," Straia shouted. "Here, I'm going to come up and-"

"No!" Zelda said. "I'm coming down, you'll just get in my way if you try to climb up." She lowered herself down the passage until she reached the base of the tunnel.

"Thank the Goddesses your safe," the guard knelt before her and grabbed at her shoulders. His hands pressing around her arms to check if she had any injuries.

"I'm fine," she said and pulled her arms away. "Let's go."

When she reached the surface, several people stood around the hole. Selli and Borra, the other guard that stood watch with Straia, two cleaning maids, and Impa in the middle of them all her arms folded over her chest. The governess frowned, but Zelda had seen that expression enough times to know it did not mean Impa's wrath, quite the opposite, she was trying not to show her pride.

"There she is," the guard said.

"Why would you ever go down there," Selli asked, looking past her into the dark. "Look how filthy you got."

But Zelda ignored them and went straight to Impa.

"What did you learn?"

"I discovered a hidden passage into the castle!" Zelda gestured toward the hole. What kind of silly question?

But Impa shook her head. "What else?"

"What else? What else do you- Oh, this is Straia, he's a new guard."

"Pleasure, Lady Impa," the guard said as he righted himself from the tunnel, bowing as low as if he met the king himself.

"Charmed," Impa said without looking away from Zelda. "What else?"

"I-" what more could she say? That Selli was sad about something? That a few hours after midday the courtyard empties for a little while? That someone in the castle plays the lute? None of that seemed to be what Impa wished to hear.

She looked back over the courtyard, to the lane of stone on the wall that looked so blatant and obvious now that she knew its purpose. She thought how she could not make the light appear when she called it. No matter how she tried.

"I learned that when I rush things, I make mistakes. That something important can be right before my eyes or under my feet and I'd never know it. That I need to take time and truly learn things rather than assume I already know everything."

Impa nodded, and finally let her smile show through. "Good. Now, let's get you cleaned up for supper."