Chapter 77: My Precious Gift

The ornate steel fence that surrounded the castle used to look so tall. Impossibly tall. The thought anyone would try to climb over it or jump off seemed ridiculous. Any who attempted would surely break a bone or at the very least twist their ankle. Now, Zelda thought she'd trained to scale more difficult walls in Kakariko. Had it truly been seven years since she was home?

Fondly, she remembered the servants who kept the entire keep clean and tended the beautiful garden and bustling stables. Or the guards posted at each entrance who stood to protect her throughout the day. And how could she forget the lords and ladies in their pristine clothes and flaunted jewels all with an air of importance about them?

Perhaps the castle remained much the same in the light of day. But now, past midnight, she saw no one but the guards. And these, she doubted, would wish to protect her.

Most of those patrolling the castle grounds had red hair hanging from beneath their helmets. She expected them, understood them. But many among the silhouettes roving across her view had the shape of Hylian men. Those she found she despised more than the Gerudo. Traitors, all of them. And they would pay the price for their betrayal.

But not tonight.

She waited and watched in the dark, memorizing the pattern of the guard's movements. It took more than an hour until she was confident she had it. There was no point waiting any further, lest the guards shift and she'd need to learn a new pattern.

First, she glanced around, making certain no one noticed the cloaked Sheikah tucked beneath a tree. Once satisfied she took a moment to steady herself. Breathe in, breathe out. Standing tall, she sprang across the empty street toward the metal bars of the fence. She jumped, her feet kicked at the iron and propelled her higher. Hooking her fingers around the top of the wall; she pulled herself up the last few feet. Then she rolled over the bar and slipped over to the other side. Landing light on her feet, she let momentum roll her forward, ending prone and disguised in the grass.

No guard rang an alarm or blew a horn. None had seen or heard her. She crawled toward the nearest of the bushes scattered across the courtyard.

Three. Two. One. And now.

A clanking soldier shuffled past trying to stifle a yawn. He stopped mere feet from Zelda.

Hylia's crown! Move!

But of course, the traitor did not do as she wished. Why would he start now?

"Another night shift," he muttered as he yawned again. "What's Bethmasse got against me, eh? If she puts me on another one. I'll- Uhh, what are you saying Will? You won't do anything. You know that. Another night shift."

She could attack him. Just as Impa taught her, crawl behind him, rise, and stab him in the neck before he realizes. Fast, efficient, silent. But it would leave a body. She'd need to find a place to hide the corpse so no one would come across it until morning. There were places tucked about the castle, but finding them would take time, time she did not have.

The man shifted, turning ever so slightly away. Zelda pushed herself halfway up to her feet and rushed past him.

"Whah?" The guard mumbled and spun around, but she tucked herself into the castle's shadow.

I'm just the wind. You saw nothing. Just the wind and go along your way.

"Who-huh?" He took two plodding steps toward her.

Zelda reached for the poison darts in her sleeve. This wasn't a knight and he didn't have armor that fully encompassed him. There would be weak points for the eyes, at the neck, under the armpits, by the hip, and behind the knees. The neck seemed easiest to get in a single throw.

"You there, Wilton?" A voice came from further down the courtyard.

"I'm here, I'm here." The guard turned toward the voice and marched away from her. "No need to get jumpy."

"We're guarding the castle; you could at least try to keep on pace. Have some dignity, about yourself."

"You're the one yelling in the middle of the night," the man muttered before he turned a corner and left Zelda's view.

She let free a long breath and tucked the darts back into her sleeve. No more time to waste, she slipped around the building; as quick as she dared, and light on her feet.

Lanterns hung under familiar arches, and their lights guided her through the pathways of the castle grounds. She avoided standing beneath the lights as best as she was able. Only crossing when she was certain no one watched, and always at a run.

When she reached the gardens she saw the bench that sat at its center, and let herself smile. The Sheikah path still existed. There were other ways inside the keep, but this was the easiest. No guards stood in the garden, though a patrol would undoubtedly pass through eventually.

The stone would creak when the path opened, but that couldn't be helped. Best to get it done as fast as possible before the guards returned.

She knelt on the cold stones and dug her fingers into the loose mortar, feeling for the opening latch.

No.

This wasn't right. The Gerudo were vile, but they were not fools. She revealed the existence of the path when she fled the castle. Why would the usurper leave it unguarded? She shut her eyes and pressed her forehead to the ground. There had to be something.

There. That was it. The faint echo of magic lingered around the entrance. Nothing strong, but certainly present. Was it an alarm? A trap? Whatever it was, she could not risk opening the latch.

The dull thud of trodding feet approached. Zelda glanced from behind the bench, no one could see her yet. But how long did she have?

"This is a terrible idea," she muttered and formed a bead of light before her. The dim speck lit the bricks and stones and would reveal her just the same to any passersby. There had to be some mark, or rune of magic to indicate what spells were weaved within the rock. Her fingertips brushed over the dirt and dust.

Where was it?

Sweat dripped down her neck. Worry gripped her stomach. It had to be here, but where?

What if the Twinrova knew some unique spell that required no symbols of power? What if she was only wasting time? The guard would reach her quick enough. She couldn't keep a light on for much longer or she'd be revealed for certain. They'd call an alarm and if she could not escape them, she'd be forced on her knees before the loathsome Nabooru or that brute Bethmasse. They'd have her head, and that would be the end of Hyrule.

Focus.

Panic did nothing. There had to be something she missed. How could they keep enchantments hidden?

Oh.

Footsteps drew close. She extinguished the light.

"What's that?" A Gerudo called. The lummox approached the bench, the tailspike of her spear tapping against the stones. She stood in the center of the gardens and looked all about. With a grunt, she said, "Late in the year for fireflies." Before she turned from the bench and continued on her way.

Only once she left did Zelda crawl out from under a bush and return to the bench. From her pack, she pulled out the salesman's gift and placed the Inquisitor's Mask over her eyes.

The witches' illusions appeared as clear and bright as the summer sun. She pulled apart the spells and revealed the etched lines of magic beneath. The enchantments were complex, with several layers of alarms and seals. She broke each of them in turn until there was nothing but the counterweights that opened the Sheikah tunnels.

They creaked as the long unused passage opened. She found the old iron rings set in the wall and climbed down the ladder. Closing the hatch behind her, left her with nothing but darkness. She rested her head against one of the rungs and took a deep breath. Seven years practicing with Impa and yet her nerves were all aflame. Her hands shook, and her stomach felt on the verge of purging itself.

She needed to calm down. She'd made it inside. The usurper and his mothers were not here. The hardest parts have passed. Her hands clenched the bar until the tremors ended and her heart slowed. Summoning the light before her, she descended into the tunnels and walked down the path and up the ladder toward her father's old study.

The witches enchanted the hatch into the room as well, in the same way they sealed the entrance to the garden. The two were powerful, that much was clear. They were knowledgeable, and the most experienced sorcerers in all Greater Hyrule. And looking at their art they may even be more powerful than she. But laying the exact same trap was lazy, wasn't it?

She put her ear to the ground and listened for any sign of life beneath her. When she heard only silence, she used a knife to pry open the hatch. Pebbles and dust clattered below into the dark room. She sent her light down. The largest desk she had ever seen stood below her. Sliding from the hole her feet touched the wooden surface before her head had even left the tunnel. She shut the hatch behind her and crawled off the desk.

The once plain room had been transformed in the intervening years. Every trace of her father had been purged. The lute that once rested on the desk was gone. Gerudo symbols lined the walls instead of the plain white plaster. A ledge had been built along the west-facing wall which bore several portraits, most of them Gerudo. Three men, Zelda presumed were the three prior kings, and more women besides whose names she did not know.

But a few pale faces sat among them. Two Zora kings she remembered from her lessons, and her ancestors King Ethart and Queen Zelda III who first unified Greater Hyrule. And in a place of prominence, raised above all the others, sat a portrait of a golden-haired woman with a sly smile looking up at something outside the frame.

Zelda took hold of the portrait and held it into the light. She remembered how it once hung above the door, and how it fell and split during the betrayal.

"Mother, father," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears she had no time to shed, "they separated you."

It was a small thing, an unimportant thing, compared to all the barbarity these people inflicted that night. It should not affect her; she put these emotions behind her seven years past. Her training with the Sheikah drilled into her that she could not let her feelings hinder her actions, nor cloud her judgment. Near half her life had gone past without her parents. And when she lived with one of them, she never got along with him. For years she avoided speaking with him at all.

But how could anyone be so cruel?

She wanted nothing more than to take it with her, it was her mother. Her portrait belonged to her, not him. But the mission was too important to risk on sentimentality. She wiped her eyes clear and put the picture down. Dispersing her light, she left the room and entered the long silent halls of the castle.

Few inside would be away at this hour. Some servants may be cleaning, and the guards would be stationed at the doorways of the important people and the royal treasury. But those rooms were easy enough to avoid. She remembered every place to hide, every angle to approach, every bedroom large enough to host an important guest. Though slow, she reached the tower which held the royal bedchambers at its uppermost level.

She climbed the stairs, stopping one floor below them. Entering an empty drawing room, Zelda headed to the window. From her bag, she pulled a thick hempen rope with a metal hook attached to the end. She opened the window and sat on the ledge, peering out. Just above her was the window to her father's room. She spun the grappling hook a few times for it to pick up momentum before letting it fly. The first throw broke through the glass, and the second caught on the ledge and stuck. Pressing her weight down on the rope, she ensured the hook would hold. Once satisfied, she dropped the rest of the rope down the side of the tower.

Don't look down. Nothing will go wrong, so long as I don't look down.

She slid off the window-ledge, gripping tight on the rope. The wind whistled around her, making her mask ripple against her face. Planting her feet against the stones, she dragged herself up against all the might of the world trying to drag her down. The distance from one floor to the other was little more than twice her height, and yet it felt as though she traveled double that distance or more.

When her hand found the ledge of her father's window she could have laughed with joy. But what would Impa have made of that?

Instead, she pulled herself up in silence, only taking a moment to clear the ledge of broken glass before she slid into the royal chambers.

Lifeless, dark, and silent, this room had been changed even more than her father's study. No longer a bed chamber, the walls had been knocked down and reconstructed into a massive singular chamber. Pipes lined the back wall, leading to an ostentatious organ. Did the traitor play? The thought of him taking any joy in music felt wrong. Various chairs and tables were spread around the room, and opposite the organ stood shelves lined with books. At first, she thought the barbarian had taken them from the library, but when she drew closer she saw most had been written in the flowing script of the Zora. Books of poetry, history, philosophy, and religion, some she had wished to read as a child. The kind, elderly Sir Mesihoff had told her she'd need to visit the Crystal City to see the texts firsthand. Opposite the usurper's stolen knowledge, weapons decorated the wall along with what passed for art among the Gerudo.

But the Sacred Jewels stood alone, encased in glass. They looked dark as the moonless sky, with no light to reflect off their facets. What protection did they leave for them? Once more the mask came from her pack. No sooner had she put it over her eyes did she feel the presence she had not felt since she was a child.

"You're not here," she whispered. But the blackness surrounded her. A foul presence as boundless as time itself, pressing against her, forcing her to stop. "You can't see me." The Inquisitors had assured her, but they weaved lies as readily as spells.

Just as when she first felt it, Zelda froze. What could she ever do against something so strong? A hatred so deep it bled into the stones and glass and air. It made her own wrath feel so paltry, insignificant in comparison. Nothing any Hylian ever felt compared to this monstrous desire for destruction. It saw into each Hylian, knew them, and all their works, their good deeds and bad. It did not matter, it wished for their deaths just the same. And it hated no one more than her.

Somehow, her hand raised. Through instinct alone, she drew power into herself. Shadow met light and where they joined there was war.

Noiseless screams clawed at her mind; weightless force pressed against her throat. Yet no matter how the dark fought, her light grew brighter. So radiant and painful she clenched her eyes shut. "You're not here," she repeated. "And I will be your end."

'Death! Death! Death!' The presence screamed. But in the end, the dark always flees before the light.

Zelda collapsed. Her heart pounded, and her lungs stung, as though she'd been running for miles in the winter's chill. Only when she picked herself up did she notice the glass had shattered and the three stones gleamed with a light from within.

She placed each within her bag and slung it over her shoulder. No time to rest, nor marvel at what had happened. Her theft would be discovered at sunrise, and she had much left to do. She took hold of the rope still hanging from the window, she gave it one last tug to make certain it had not come loose. Then she crawled out the window and climbed down.

The Temple of Time was only a husk. The once simple, yet beautiful, stained glass windows had all been shattered. The smooth stones were now blackened and cracked from a powerful flame. Even the doors had been torn from their hinges, revealing the charred and twisted ruin within.

A shape stirred inside the building. The salesman appeared at the empty arch of the doorway with a smile. "I do so love a reunion. Be it my own, or others reunited with pieces of their past. How the whims of time cause change, for good and ill."

Zelda stepped out of the shadows. How had he noticed me from inside the building? She hadn't made a noise, and she held the Mask of Truth. In the weeks of traveling together to reach Castle Town, he had grown no less unnerving. If anything, she only grew more worried about her new companion. Whatever his goals, he refused to confide in her. Even when questioned he would speak only in riddles or change the topic to his masks.

She did not even have a real name for him.

"I take your presence to mean you were successful."

"I was," she tapped her bag.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" He clapped his hands. No matter how wide he smiled, the man's face seemed to stretch even wider when he wished. "The hardest part is behind you." He spun on his heel, making his massive pack rattle as the masks tethered on it smacked against each other.

"Wait," Zelda stopped at the door. "When I left this place there were people here, many people, only desiring a place to weather the storm. Was the fire started when they were inside? Did any of them escape?"

"Does it matter if they did?"

"Yes."

"Then I am sorry to tell you, I do not know. Many temples were destroyed in the early days of Dragmire's reign, under the orders of the Honored Twinrova. Perhaps this destruction occurred then. But I also know your escape left the new king quite wrathful. And his anger can be... explosive."

Zelda frowned. The man didn't appear to be lying, but she could never tell with him.

"Do you doubt me?"

"No. But you often seem to know this sort of thing."

"Even I cannot be everywhere. If I could, then I'd have no need of you, and we'd both be poorer for it. Come along, princess, night does not last forever."

The building looked more horrific inside. The statues of the Three had been shattered and their altar overturned. The temple had never been the most opulent - it looked positively simplistic when compared to the Shrine of Hylia in the castle - but what few rare gems and silver that had once decorated the statues and altar had been pried free and stolen. The wooden interior walls had burned away, leaving the whole building barren. Yet even though the inner rooms were all revealed and displayed together, it looked so small and diminished.

"This temple lasted thousands of years," Zelda said as the salesman led her to the stairs. "It was older than Hyrule Castle, perhaps older than the city."

"Woe to the vanquished, aye?" He said with that same cheerful intonation he used when talking about anything; from plots to steal artifacts to what food to prepare for their supper. "If you think it looks bad now, you should have seen it when I started uncovering it. You have no idea how long it took."

"I'd hazard a guess of around seven years."

He gave a quick laugh. "Why yes! I suppose you do have some idea. Now this is the tricky part, you wouldn't mind providing a bit of light, would you?"

She drew forth a small light, and he rooted around the debris. "Here it is." He pulled aside a wooden board that looked as though it may once have been the backrest of a pew. Dust flew into the air briefly cloaking the stairs that led down to the secrets buried in the depths of the temple.

"How did you know this was here?"

"One more gift from a mutual friend. He made a promise to me before he passed. I am merely here to collect it. It is strange how one friend gave a gift to sow discord, while the other gave a gift to provide aid. And yet I treasure both."

"Father Rauru never spoke of you to me."

"People have lives outside of you, princess."

They descended into the true heart of the temple. As she approached the three voices came to her, singing in their perfect harmony. She had not forgotten them; she could never forget them. Not if she lived to be a hundred and her mind had gone. Those voices would follow her to the end of her days. Yet hearing them grace this desolate place with their beauty stung. Duke Arlan said this was not the age for hope, and yet, here it remained. So wondrous and terrible it made her heart ache and her longing grow. She wished nothing more than to return to when she first heard those voices. Back to a time when her potential seemed boundless and she believed with all her heart she could bring the kingdom to right and outwit all the monsters that sought her defeat.

But those were the dreams of a child. Yet here she was, still following that song into the unknown.

Fire had charred the lower levels too, though not to the extent as the floors above. And most important, the door remained exactly as she remembered it. It stood tall with its mystical ornate etchings upon it. The only thing in all this city that remained as grand as it had been when she was a child.

The voices grew louder as their song blocked out everything else. She needed to reach them. Taking the Sacred Stones from her bag, she and the salesman placed them into their slots along the door.

The stone entrance opened and revealed the golden realm within. The song swelled and the voices danced, filling Zelda's mind. The salesman spoke, but she could not hear him. The Goddesses beckoned, promising warmth, knowledge, joy, sorrow, and responsibility. This time, she would not ignore their call.

Zelda stepped into the world of light.

It felt almost like falling, though her clothes and hair did not flitter about as they would had she been in free fall. No, this was something else. Her mind trying to comprehend the incomprehensible, to make sense of an entirely new experience.

Beyond Hyrule lay strands of light that stretched out into infinity. Each had its own tone, though gold shimmered within each of the streams. The thin line of gold gently guided them while allowing each to shine with its distinct color.

The first of the lights swallowed and Zelda witnessed the heavens and the lands below. Five figures watched over the lands and seas and skies and peoples. A dragon flew upon her mountaintops, a tree grew his roots spread wide across the forest, and a leviathan set paths to the rivers. But two stood apart from their brothers and sister, an angel of light and a demon of shadow. Together they shaped something new.

Zelda slipped from one stream to the next. The mother of all peoples cried in anguish. From below came the ravenous hordes, crawling from fissures bearing weapons and curses. They battled the mother's children, slaughtering all who stood before them.

"Forgive me!" The mother cried out, as she took it upon herself to change the fate of the world.

"Hylia?" Zelda asked. A sorrow gripped her heart, and a wail escaped her lips.

The mother spread her wings wide, and her light encased the world. When Zelda could again see, the mother was gone, and a babe cried out.

Before she could comprehend what she saw another world came into view then another after. Each stream of light brought with it new sensations, new information, all a jumble through time.

A great wide sea, with a feisty girl hanging upside down from the riggings of a ship. The child laughed as she sailed into the boundless horizon. The sea air smelled of freedom and adventure and all anyone could ever want.

Then a noble lady appeared frozen in slumber waiting for her hero to rescue her. But even as she slept, her dreams showed no hint of fear. Nightmares did not touch her. For as terrible as hardships could be, as fearsome as evil could grow, life would fight it.

Who were they? Some ancestors she did not recognize, or perhaps some descendants? Or maybe they meant nothing at all, and these visions were random and meaningless.

No, that couldn't be. This was the realm of the Golden Three, and nothing from them was meaningless.

The doors of the great hall of Hyrule Castle shook as something struck it from the other side. Guards readied their weapons, prepared to fight for the end to protect the one who stood behind them. But their charge looked no less ready to fight herself, a princess who wielded a slender blade. But she knew resistance would lead to nothing but more death.

The visions moved too fast; how could anyone learn what they all meant? She needed to slow things down. Think. This was a realm of magic, the truest magic of all. The kind that took part in the shaping of the cosmos and held together all the paths the creation could take. Could she use it?

The power here was old and more set than anything she had ever encountered. No matter how she pulled it refused to budge. If anything she passed through the lights quicker.

A dragon soared over Hyrule carrying a heavy burden and a broken heart.

A proud queen and her husband sat upon matching thrones; their dearest friends arrayed before them as they divided the kingdom.

"Let this be the end of all conflicts," the queen said. "Swear before me now, that you will guard the lands given with all you have and when called we shall come together in mutual defense and mutual respect."

And with glad hearts, the assembly went to their knees and bowed their heads.

"What does it mean? Please, you must slow down." But the Goddesses only sang. Very well, if they wanted her to figure it out herself, she'd do so. She shut her eyes and concentrated on the flow of magic.

"I'm still my father's daughter and your friend. I'm still your Zelda."

A monster roared and a bowstring snapped.

It didn't matter, focus on the magic. There was more than just the energy of the lights within this realm; something weaker, but still magnificent. It reminded her most of the golden harp Rauru used to teach her when she first learned the skill of drawing power into herself. The source of this other power was close. So close.

"I banish you brother. I cast you down. And we shall be family no longer!"

Winds tore around her as a madman laughed.

"No. You will not harm anyone else today."

A shadow fell over her face and an ocarina played a beautiful tune.

The energy wasn't just close. It surrounded her, like warm arms encasing her in a loving embrace. How had she never noticed it before?

"You will not believe what your daughter has done," a lady said with a huff.

"It's not my fault," a child cried.

Drawing out the energy was as easy as breathing. It flowed within her as though it had always been there.

"What did you do?" came a familiar deep voice.

Zelda opened her eyes and commanded all the world. "Stop!"

King Liotidos sat at his desk, a letter still in his hand as he frowned at his daughter. Behind her stood a beautiful golden-haired queen, with hands on her hips and a disapproving frown.

"It's not my fault," the child repeated.

"That's not an explanation," her father admonished.

"Princess Ruto was being so mean!"

"I will not ask again, what did you do?"

"Well, you know how Uncle Darunia showed us that black powder?"

"Hylia's crown, she isn't dead is she?"

"No."

"Does she have all her fingers and... fins?"

"Yes."

"So she's not harmed then." He looked to his wife.

The queen shook her head. "Princess Ruto is safe, but shaken up. But that's not the point. Our daughter can't go around terrorizing other children."

"It was only mud!" The princess protested. "I just made it pop in her face a bit. She'd called the groomsmen and the gardeners and the cleaning servants filthy. It was supposed to be funny."

Father stood up from his chair and towered over the princess, shaking his head. "My dear, can you speak to De Bon, and see if you can assuage any tensions this may have caused? I'll deal with Zelda."

"Thank you," the queen left.

The daughter looked up at her father and the father glared down at his daughter. Then he sputtered and his frown turned into a grin before he started laughing.

Tentatively, the child laughed with him. "Am I still in trouble?"

"Oh, most certainly."

Throughout it all, Zelda watched them. As a shade hanging in the shadows as this family so unlike her own went about their lives. They had no idea how fortunate they all were. She drifted behind as this child served her punishment and was forced to apologize to the Zora princess. She watched as this family took meals together, laughed together, played games together.

It wasn't fair.

They still argued, often over stupid things that did not matter. She watched as this child grew into a willful teen who mocked her parents, and her younger siblings, a brother and a sister Zelda never had. So often she wished to scream at this child to stop being such a fool. But just as often the girl would seek the guidance of her parents or take the time to teach and encourage the younger prince and princess.

A great Civil War ended, and this time the Gerudo King's vows were true. The mother and father taught their daughter how to rule; to be just, fair, and forgiving. And this other Zelda strived so hard to prove herself. She never knew loneliness, why was her life so blessed?

Not long after the princess came of age, the Queen Regnant took an illness and was forced to spend her days in bed. The king maintained his duties but spent half his time tending to her needs. It fell upon the daughter to rule. First only the simple problems of the day, and even then, she often visited her parents at night asking both for guidance. And this princess listened, more apt and attentive than the shade had ever been.

Why had she never given her father that courtesy?

As the queen grew weaker the princess took more responsibilities upon herself. She formed a council of advisors. Many the shade recognized; some she loved others she despised. From that council, the princess raised two above the others; an adventurous young knight whose honor and renown made him a living legend and a Gerudo king respected above all others.

The three spent days arguing and planning, building the kingdom together. And there was peace.

The queen died one night, and the kingdom fell into mourning. But the king never looked so proud as he did the day, he took off the crown for the last time and bowed before his daughter.

Four years later, he followed his wife into Hylia's embrace. The young queen and her siblings wept and held his hand as he passed.

The funeral was beautiful. People from across the realm came to pay their respects to Lio the Good, beloved husband to Queen Zelda the Wise, the rulers who ended one hundred years of war. As they lowered him to lay beside his wife Darunia spoke, and so did Dragmire, and De Bon. All attesting to his good humor and honor.

And once the ground was set, the departed's children gave their speeches. The prince with his talk of duty and honor, the princess read beautiful poetry. And last went the new queen, and she spoke of love. Twice she stopped to hold back her tears, and many in attendance cried for her, the invisible shade among them.

"And I hope to live by your example," the queen concluded. "I miss you both."

Over the next few hours, the crowds dispersed. But the shade refused to move on. She knelt before the grave as the real people of this world walked through her to give their last respects. So many of them, each face she recognized, but she did not remember if she met them in this world or the one from before.

She hated thinking of that place, where everything had gone wrong. A dark world where shadows ruled and war consumed all it touched. Let this become her world. Let this be her life.

"Do you mind if I kneel beside you?" A voice asked.

There had to be a way to return to the beginning when she first entered this life. The power remained with her, she only needed to figure out how to shape the spell.

"I warned you about meddling with time. It won't work, Your Highness, you don't have an anchor."

The shadow froze and looked for the voice. A man she had never seen in this world but knew well from the other stood over her.

"May I?" He gestured to the spot beside her.

She stared at him, trying to think what his presence meant. She managed to mumble out, "Of course."

"This used to be difficult for me," he laughed as he knelt. "So hard on those old knees." He bowed his head. "He was a good man, just and honorable as he could be. Not perfect, but then who is?"

"How are you here?"

"In truth, I don't know. I think, I still have some purpose left to serve, but your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps this is it and once we're done talking I will finally be allowed to see Hylia and face my judgment. But I believe there might be more for me."

She pulled him into a hug and burst into tears when her hands could touch him. "Then let us never be done. Talk with me, forever. In this world or some other, I don't care."

"Oh, princess," his arms wrapped around her. "You know I cannot. It is the nature of man that we must be prepared to move on. Move on from delights to face our sorrows, move from our sorrows to stare down the dull and distasteful. If we're lucky we'll move to find more delight. But last of all, we move on from life. My old master told me it was the movement that gives us purpose, that shapes what we do. It's our changes that give our lives meaning."

"What if I don't want to move on? Why can't I find meaning in that?"

"Because I can think of no more true death than stagnation." He got to his feet and helped Zelda up as well. From his robes came a handkerchief he offered to her. As she wiped her eyes he continued. "Go, my child, there's still more for you to see, more for you to do. Our home needs you."

"I'll only fail again. Like I've done with everything I've attempted. It's all my fault, why our world didn't become this one. I'm the one who gathered the stones for Ganondorf to use. I'm the one who brought ruin."

"Of course, and I'm certain that the man over twice your age who was plotting to overthrow your family before you even met had nothing to do with it. You may be Chosen, but the flaws of the world are not exclusively your doing. All that matters is when you see those flaws do you face them, or do you hide and ignore them?"

Zelda sighed. "I've been here so long. Where am I supposed to go?"

"I'll guide you. Close your eyes."

She did as he told her.

"Feel all that you have within you, all your potential, all your might. Breathe in, breathe out. And take heart, for that means you are more than just your sorrows. You are alive."

The strange, near perfect, world faded away from the friends and families that were not hers, and a Zelda who would never know how fortunate she was.

Rauru led her down through the eons. His presence remained beside her until her feet landed on solid ground.

"Good luck," he whispered and was gone.

She opened her eyes and found herself back in the Temple of Time. Only now all the ruin caused by the flames was gone. The stones of the ground and floor were pristine and smooth. They did not even have the indents caused by centuries of priests trodding upon them. The walls were lit, but not by the magic lanterns Rauru once set. Instead, they shone with sunlight, though there was no sun that Zelda could see.

Only one thing marred this perfect vision of the temple. A golden crystal, taller than she, stood in the middle of the room. Within it stood a man, frozen, clutching at his chest with one hand and dragging a blade behind him with the other.

Link, it must be him. Though he'd grown from the wild youth she met in the garden with leaves in his hair into a strong young man. As she drew close she saw the agony twisting his features. His teeth gritted and eyes clenched tight. A cut had torn the front of his clothes, it must have been painful, perhaps deadly under normal circumstances. But now it had become a deep purple scar that ran across his shoulder, down his chest, and into his side.

She placed her hands on the cage.

"Are you ready, my precious gift?" The voice came from everywhere.

Zelda looked about to find who spoke, only to see a Hylian singer sitting on a pedestal. She wore simple but elegant clothes of blues and cerulean with a gold locket in the shape of a seashell dangling from her neck.

She went to her knees and bowed her head. "I think I am, but in truth, I do not know."

The singer rose, and for a breath, she was no longer Hylian, but a titan. She towered over the cosmos yet still fit within the temple. Gold she was, and blue, and majestic beyond compare. Her eyes saw through all that was or will be. Drifting before her, as though swimming through the oceans, the silent leviathan spread her evangel of forethought and knowledge.

The singer gestured for her to rise. "A circumspect answer, but not one I disagree with. Yes, there will be many pitfalls, and even more chances at loss. But I think you are ready, just the same."

"How do I avoid them? Please, I don't know if I can bare more loss."

"That, I cannot say. It would be cheating. And you've already been gifted with many advantages, some of which you were not supposed to have."

"Not supposed to... I don't understand."

"Think on all you have seen. Why did you dream about Ganondorf for weeks before you met him? What made you believe he was false when he spoke? Why did you sing before an empty wall and discover all that lay down here? You have all the pieces before you. Can you arrange them into the proper order?"

She thought on the legends of the past, and the pull that guided her actions. She remembered the visions she saw as she fell through the Door of Time, before she decided to stop them. The disappearance of the mother, and the crying child. "Am I... am I a goddess?"

"Is being a princess not enough for you?" The singer chided, though there was no cruelty in it. And it made Zelda give a short laugh, despite herself. "There's more to discover. But our daughter puts her thumb on the scale, just like her brother does, though she thinks herself more subtle."

"The masked man, he gave it away."

"And that one thinks himself so very clever, and I suppose he is more than most. But people are never quite as smart as they believe themselves to be." She chuckled. "They either think because they've mastered one art they become masters of all others, or they give themselves no credit for what brilliance they do possess."

"Who is he? I can't find his place in all this."

"I could tell you, but he is unimportant for your story. Surely, there are more pressing concern. I fear now will be the only time you'll have to question me."

"Yes," Zelda swallowed. There was so much she needed to learn, so many questions that could lead her to defeating Ganondorf and freeing her people. But there was one thought filling her mind, unavoidable, inescapable. It would not matter to her purpose, but she could not stop herself from asking. "Did he know? Please, tell me he knew how much I loved him."

The arms wrapped around her, preparing to steady Zelda as she whispered, "I'm sorry my child, but no."

Zelda let out her breath slow, trying to control it. Of course, he didn't. He told her that he thought she hated him, and she never disabused him of that. She'd carried that guilt of not telling him for seven years. It shouldn't matter when she finally had it confirmed. It shouldn't matter at all.

Her breath broke. She gasped, and she could hold back her wail no longer. Her body shook as she clutched at the singer to steady herself. "I'm sorry," Zelda managed to gasp between her sobs. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't – not before a goddess."

"Hush now," she said. "Let it out. Take as long as you need."

Zelda wiped her eyes. "You must be having second thoughts on making me your 'chosen of wisdom.' Look at me, I can't even control my emotions."

"Of course I'm not. You're everything you are, and that's all I have ever needed you to be."

"But I'm supposed to be intelligent, rational, wise."

"Only fools believe that emotions and logic are opposing forces. In truth they are different, that is all. Imagine life without the love of others to help you forward, or the anger at injustice to guide your actions. What a barren way to live. Sometimes a person must be rational and sometimes they must be emotional. That is no shame, it is the heart of wisdom, hard-won and oft-forgotten. It is too easy for the heartbroken to lock their souls away and try in vain to live solely through thought. And easier still for the fool to let their feelings control them completely. But you, my chosen, must embrace both. People tremble before the followers of my sisters, for the powerful hold such sway and the brave face such daunting trials, but my path has always been the most difficult. There will be harder truths ahead of you."

"Can I fix things? Is there a way to go back and tell him how important he was? Can I make things right?"

The smile and loving eyes of the goddess lingered even as the rest of her disappeared into the currents of time and magic. "That, my precious gift, is a wonderful question." And she was gone.

Zelda stared where she had once stood. What did it all mean? How did it all piece together? There was so much that still needed to be said. But there was nothing else to do. No more questions she could ask. She took a moment to compose herself before she began her work. The barriers around Link were strong, but she would break them. Whatever else happened, however the paths of fate winded, she could do that much good. For Rauru, and her family, and everyone else who she once failed.

And maybe, if she proved lucky and wise enough, she could do more.