Chapter Text
Part One: Education
Link. Please, hurry.
That was the name she gave him; that was the mission she assigned him.
In the year that followed, battling Blight and learning to live again, Link carried her voice with him. He kept it close, treasured it, like a shell from the beach, contours and chips doled out by time, and in quiet moments he would seek it out and bring it forth from the crevices he’d made in himself. He’d find it and make it his compass. When the ground at his feet fell away, when rains and snow sloughed down, when thunder shook him and wind rattled his bones -- he returned to it. Her voice and her face. Photos on a strange slate. Places where they had once been. All of it, but most of all her voice. It kept him functional, alive.
But he wasn’t ready to hear it. Not the real thing. It was a blow he could not brace for, his silence not strong enough of a shield. Because, Goddesses, she was real, so real, where everything else was just a memory or a dream.
And when she turned, when she smiled, when she spoke, he froze.
When she asked the question, the first question, he fell silent.
Do you really remember me?
And he had nothing to say in return.
In the far west the Sun had almost set, and the sapphire-lit Sheikah Towers dotted across Hyrule were shining like stars. From the top of Central Tower the entire kingdom was visible; from Death Mountain in the north, pulsating with heat, to Gerudo Desert in the south, where a gargantuan sandstorm raged. In the west, sitting silently at the edge of Hyrule Field, was Hyrule Castle, now little more than an empty shell. Flanked by the five monolithic columns and seeping with the remaining pools of Malice, it was its own blight on the landscape. The presence of the gurgling purple ooze made one thing clear: sealed though he may be, Ganon's corruption still marred the land.
Zelda watched the tableau of Hyrule before her from the open platform of Central Tower. The wind caught her hair, faintly cold now that the warm light of sunset was waning. It seemed it had been dusk for hours now and in moments like these, Princess Zelda could not tell dream from waking. Sunlight burned brighter and chills crept deeper under her skin now that she had physical form again after a lifetime trapped as a spirit of light within the Castle.
But you are here, Zelda told her. You are alive.
She felt she could not rest. She had to keep moving or else lose her grip on what was real and true. The moment the light of Central Tower rounded over the horizon, she had never felt more determined.
“To the top,” she had said. “Promptly now. Before sundown.”
“Are you sure?” Link had asked, peering up at the lofty Shiekah Tower. It was all he said; his eyes said the rest, in that strangely expressive way that they did now.
"I must see what remains of this kingdom. Where else but this tower?”
He’d handed her the Sheikah Slate and said, “You can teleport to the top.”
To that she had naively declined. Link need not fear for her, not after what they’d been through only days prior, and with her body back Zelda was determined to experience as much that was new to her as she could. Hand over hand, foothold to foothold, she and Link began to climb.
An hour later, Zelda collapsed in an exhausted heap onto the cool stone of the tower platform. Every muscle in her body ached and shook and her vision was blurred from the sheer strain. She rolled onto her back, and met Link's eyes ruefully when he appeared above her, a hand extended to help her up.
"I'm now glad," she had said through panting breaths. "That it was you and not me activating all these, these…” she gestured weakly around them, “...these grand old things."
Link had flashed her a wry smile. "No problem, Princess," he’d said, handing her his waterskin, and she’d been so flushed and embarrassed at her dismal physical display that she’d refused to take it at first, and only relented when her pants turned into coughs
No problem, Zelda thought glumly as she now gazed down on Hyrule Field. Link’s quest to destroy Ganon had taken him almost a year, and not once had it seemed like no problem, at least not from her vantage point. Zelda had watched over him as best as she could, but her pilgrimage in Hyrule Castle had placed her in a state of being that felt somewhat like being submerged, enveloped by the immensity of her struggle against that foul beast. Already her memories of those one hundred years were fading. Perhaps it was for the best.
But to Link, Zelda pondered, it had been no time at all. One single year alive, against her one hundred and seventeen. Was it possible that he… that he had forgotten their past? It was hard to tell. He said so little, and his eyes, expressive as they were, did not hold conversation.
He was standing guard behind her, his Master Sword and Hylian shield at his back, in the unlikely event that anything sinister could reach them atop Central Tower. When Zelda had told him he didn’t have to do that anymore, all he’d done was shrug and call it his instinct.
Zelda’s instincts, damn them, told her to go back to her Castle. They told her to sit in the seat that was her father's, and take on the crown he left for her. That was the most obvious course of action, wasn’t it?
Yet, the thought of such a thing, and the thought of following in his footsteps...No. No, no, no. It made her chest seize, her heart and hands wring. Who would want her, a forgotten girl with no great qualities of her own, to be Queen?
But where could she go now? Zelda thought of Link, standing watch somewhere on the tower platform. Who would she go with?
The last rays of sun slipped beneath the western mountains of the Tabantha Frontier, and Hyrule was blanketed in darkness. It was a moonless night: dark, and lonely, and cold. There was nothing more to see from the tower.
"Well, judging by my performance earlier, I don't think we’re in a position to climb down until sunrise," Zelda announced, returning to the terminal at the centre of the tower platform where she had left her things. Link turned his head slightly to the side, a slender ear cocked in her direction. With a nod, he left his post and joined her, coaxing up a small fire by the terminal for their dinner: Roasted mushrooms again. Link had used all his arrows in his fight against Ganon, and neither Link nor Zelda were comfortable passing through towns yet to restock their supplies, so hunting was out of the question
Zelda sat by the fire, taking a mushroom skewer in hand, and looked up to see that Link had re-assumed his lookout. His whole body was tense, his muscles knotted as if in preparation for an ambush.
"Afraid of flying moblins?" she teased, wishing Link would relax. His caution was doing nothing to ease her nerves.
She saw him smile slightly, and with a rare lightness he said, "I've heard rumours of winged Lizalfos before.”
Zelda snorted, embarrassing herself. She felt her cheeks go red. Don’t be a fool, it’s just Link, she told herself, feeling no better. After another few minutes, Link must have felt that it was safe, for he turned and sat down around their little camp at last, grabbing a few skewers of now charred mushrooms to eat.
"You really don't need to worry,” Zelda recommenced. “I'm sure that anything that manages to climb up here will be just as tired as I was. I saw nothing in the west anyway, and all that’s in the east are stables and..." her voice trailed off as she realised she was rambling. "And the wetlands of Lanayru…."
Link didn't look up from his meal, and Zelda felt a moment of clarity. "You were looking towards Zora's Domain, weren't you?"
That made him pause. He swallowed and briefly met her eyes before looking away.
“You mentioned it yesterday.”
“There are people there who might remember me. King Dorephan. Sidon. Even some of the royal court. I think… Kiahto was their historian?”
“Jiahto,” Link corrected, to Zelda’s shock.
“You met him?”
“Met lots of people.”
“Regardless, Divine Beast Vah Ruta is still there. I’d like to check on her, to ensure she is secure. I feel it’s the least we could do.”
Link considered this, or at least seemed to be considering this. He finished a fourth mushroom skewer, added a small log to the fire and quietly said,
“What about Kakariko?”
“No.”
“Lady Impa–”
“Not yet,” Zelda’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry just… not yet.”
The defiance in Zelda seemed to have no source. It came suddenly and naturally, a foregone conclusion. How could she look the Sheikah in the eye after how badly she had failed them? Were their lives not better, freer, without needing to be in her service?
Link didn’t challenge this, only started on his fifth skewer with a slight frown. Zelda returned to the source of their conversation, eager to move on.
“You seem apprehensive about Zora’s Domain,” she said diplomatically. Again, as he had before nearly every time he spoke, Link paused to choose his words.
"It's a dangerous path," he said. "Dunno how to… get you there. Safely."
Zelda sighed. "I’m not helpless.”
“I know, it’s just–”
“While I appreciate your assistance—“
“I’m not used to—“
“I told you I can manage on my own."
"Can you?" Link shot back. His intensity sent a jolt through Zelda’s spine.
His eyes met hers. Zelda’s vision swam, her eyes stinging. Link’s cheeks brightened with regret.
"Princess--" he began.
"Don't.”
"I shouldn’t have said--"
"Don’t!" Zelda rubbed the water from her eyes. “Please.”
Silence fell, save for the whistle of the wind through the tower lookout. The pair spoke not another word as they ate, doused their fire, and retired to their bedrolls, and yet Zelda simmered with rage for what little remained of the evening. She lay seething, fighting the memory that came back to her with a vengeful clarity.
They had just left Hyrule Castle a few days prior, carrying what little they could take from the ruins. Link directed them through Central Hyrule, avoiding the paths and stables to keep them both out of sight. For a day or so they moved slowly across Hyrule Field while Zelda adjusted to mundane but now novel rituals of eating, sleeping and speaking. Those first hours after the Calamity’s defeat were fragmented and jarring, characterised by long blackouts and a lingering sense of disconnection. She would be sitting atop her horse, following slowly behind Link, and then next she would be by the fire gazing unblinkingly at the flames, and then next lying in her bedroll, waiting restless for sleep to take her. To his credit, the knight did not overwhelm her with prodding questions about her wellbeing, but his silence did little to help her feel welcome.
It wasn’t until the second day that Zelda stumbled. Her appetite was yet to fully come back, and the lack of food made her weary. After a day's ride towards Central Tower under the bright late-summer sun -- little more than a handful of mushrooms and some thin strips of cured meat to keep her going -- the exhaustion of living finally caught up with her. Absent-mindedly she lead her horse off the rough gravel trail, seemingly quiet enough for Link not to notice. The sun was in her eyes, the afternoon breeze battering her ears, and the sounds and sights of the darkness that had enveloped her for so long came rushing back like a wave to shore. It was too much. It was too bright. Zelda shrieked, and then just like that – she fell.
Whatever had happened, she woke by the fire again, her left arm throbbing. The elbow was bruised, and had been braced with some deftly tied bandages.
That was almost a day ago now, and still every mention of Zelda's well-being or Link's duty as her guard would cause them both to stiffen and close up. Link refused to move on at least until he was sure Zelda had regained her strength, and Zelda, admittedly, refused to talk about it.
This was the first time he'd lashed out though. And the first time she’d lashed back.
The last embers of the fire were sputtering out. Zelda wanted to sleep – properly – yet the void of night around her threatened to bring cruel nightmares and sleepless hours. Restless, and still a little upset, she spoke into the darkness.
“You can leave me, Link, any time you want.”
Light as the wind passing through the tower, the darkness spoke back.
“Where would I go?”
Morning found them silently breaking their fast with strips of cured meat – the last they had remaining. It was a cool morning, overcast, the land decorated with the mist of summer showers.
Zelda peered over at Link, sitting with his legs dangling over the tower edge. She sat a little way back, legs crossed, not quite as brave as he.
Their eyes met for a moment, and as if anticipating the other’s lingering discontent, both spoke: “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, but there is no need,” Zelda replied. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
“It’s alright, it didn’t hurt,” Link said. Was that a smile on his face? Zelda could hardly believe it. It made him shine, bright like the sun haloing his hair. He looked away, fumbling with his wrist guard. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you, these past few days.”
“Nor can I imagine what this past year has been like for you. But… I’m sure we will figure it out.”
Together? She wanted to ask. It seemed their current arrangement would continue – but for how long, and to what end were the real questions, and Zelda was afraid of the answers.
Their breakfast done, Link fetched their packs, helping Zelda strap hers to her back. “I’m ready to go when you are, Princess,” he said.
Zelda took one last look over the landscape before they climbed down the tower. Hyrule Field gave way to the mountains beyond, the rivers and ponds glistening in shimmering reds and ambers as the sun peeked out over the eastern horizon, all of it bearing the scars of the Calamity. To the south she saw that the sandstorm was even greater in size. Wherever Zelda looked, not a soul was in sight. Hyrule was still asleep.
But soon, like her, like the both of them, it would need to stir.
Zelda carefully took hold of wiry mesh that covered the sides of Central Tower, and began the descent.
The decided they would travel first to Zora’s Domain to enact a tri-pronged plan: pay respects to King Dorephan, assert her presence in the world, and check on Divine Beast Vah Ruta. It seemed that her powers, while diminished, were still present. She knew that much by the muted gold mark on her hand, in the shape of three triangles. If there was a way to put this sealing power to use, then she would find it.
“I can take you to Kakariko Village, as well,” Link reiterated, pointing to the hidden little town on the map in the Sheikah Slate. “It’d only be a day’s travel.”
Zelda shivered. “One thing at a time,” she told him, trying her best to feel the words as she spoke them, and he didn’t ask about it again after that.
Regardless of where, both Link and Zelda wished to reach shelter and civilisation before too long. Link boarded their horses at the Wetlands Stable in Lanayru, and led them on a shortcut through through the Lanayru Wetlands. They would rejoin the road at the mouth of the Zora River, and make the winding climb up to the sheltered Zora’s Domain. To both Link and Zelda's relief, their travels to the Domain were relatively easy-going; they met little interference beyond a fallen log or some particularly slippery mud.
"Must be the cold air," Zelda mused, talking more to herself than Link. "It’ll be Summer’s End soon, you can see the way the leaves are changing. I suppose it would make sense if creatures not adapted to the cooler weather would adopt a hibernation cycle."
"Calamity Ganon," Link said suddenly. He'd been so quiet, so careful in even his movements that sometimes Zelda simply forgot he was there.
"Pardon?"
"He's dead. So there's not as many monsters."
"Right. Of course. That would be a more apt explanation," Zelda wrapped her arms around herself. "It's still a bit chilly."
"Are you cold, Princess?”
"No, Link, thank you," Zelda answered. "And… just Zelda will do. Princess doesn’t sound right, anymore."
“As you say, Prin– uh, Zelda.”
At least things are civil, Zelda thought with an inward sigh, if a little awkward.
Sometimes in the way Link spoke to her, or looked at her, it seemed that he saw only a stranger. While the hundred year vigil had dulled Zelda’s own memories, at least she had them at all. In conversations they'd had, Link explained that his memories were more fragmented, at best.
And there were other changes too. Small things at first. Mannerisms that she had remembered differently, words here and there that she had never heard him use, a look in his eye that seemed changed.
She tried to push down the thoughts. He was alive. He’d come back to her. That had to be all that mattered.
They were still a day or so from Zora’s Domain, and had progressed halfway through the Lanayru wetlands. Finding small refuge in the Goponga Village Ruins, they built their camp and made their fire, settling against the weathered stone. Link borrowed the Sheikah Slate from Zelda to materialise a silver trident from its inventory -- one embellished with emeralds and pearls. He waded out into the low waters, focused hard on the colourful fish that swam lazily past, and held the trident balanced to strike. There was a sudden splash, and not a minute later Link returned to their camp with wet boots and two fat Hylian Bass. Zelda caught a secretive, proud smile on his face as he approached. Another instinct, Zelda realised. Another skill that need not be remembered.
Perhaps now is a good time to help him, she thought, to remind him of the life he once had.
"You carry the Lightscale Trident?" Zelda asked.
Link's brows furrowed, and he did not answer. Around them a light rain began to fall.
“It’s a fine weapon,” Zelda continued, feeling foolish. Perhaps this was not the best place to start. “There’s no benefit letting it go unutilised.”
Link nodded silently, his attention still focused on the bass. He cleaned the fish with a pointed Gerudo dagger, skewered the meat, and held them out over the fire.
“Did you want to talk about it?” Zelda pressed. “About before.”
Link’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his face guarded. “...before?”
Zelda gulped. There was no way around it. "Before the Calamity."
Link was quiet for a long time then, and Zelda wondered if he'd even heard her. The fish were finished on the fire; Link held one out for her and they ate in silence. When he was done, he finally spoke.
"I don't know what to ask."
"We can start small. Your Knighthood, the Kingdom, your death--"
"Start small?" Link laughed nervously.
"Uh— well, maybe not—," Zelda spluttered. The sound of his laughter had completely thrown her, and for a second she couldn't help but laugh along with him.
"My death," Link said. "It's not exactly-"
"-a small start, no" Zelda sighed, resting a hand against her face. "I'm sorry, I’m not much help.."
Link shrugged. "I don't mind.”
The rain began to heap down then, and so they ducked under a ruined thatch roof, the decaying grass and hay only just enough to keep them dry. Link scrambled to gather up their belongings, and Zelda watched with dismay as their campfire was reduced to fizzling embers. There was no choice but to sit on their bedrolls and shiver as they waited out the storm. An uneasy silence fell over them then, punctuated only by Zelda's idle musings on the history of Zora's Domain.
"Legend tells that Lady Ruta was engaged to a Hylian, and some theorise it could have been the Hero of Legend himself. But you know it seems so unlikely to me. Zora traditions are so strict. And even if it were true, I suppose it never went anywhere. Can you imagine the scandal? A Zora Princess, and a Hylian–" She was too late to catch herself, remembering at the last second how closely the story mirrored Link's. She looked over and saw him gazing with an empty expression at the waters beyond the ruins, hugging his knees to his chest. If he was crestfallen she couldn't know.
"I'm sorry, Link," she apologized. He shot her a weak, fading smile.
“It’s okay,” He murmured.
Zelda cursed her own carelessness. Has he had even a single happy moment, she wondered, since they named him my Champion? Since I had him laid in that Shrine?
Just as Zelda resigned to another tense evening together, Link asked, "Did you know her well?"
Zelda felt a surge of pain in her chest."I know she cared about you," she answered. I know she loved you. "Is this what you want to talk about?"
Link gave a little nod, though he didn't seem to relax.
Zelda tried to tell him everything that she could, though in truth she had never really spoken to Princess Mipha outside of their work with Ruta and the other Champions.
"She…she loved that trident. No, that's a silly way to put it. She excelled with it, wielding the Lightscale Trident as you do now. The Zora said she was one of their most skilled fighters, as well as being their princess. But I think she never wanted to fight. She loved Ruta, she loved learning about her, but she considered her use against Ganon a last resort, I think. She told me how Ruta could be used to stabilise the weather in Lanayru. She wanted to make Hyrule safer, for all of us."
Everything ached, so rich that Princess Zelda almost wanted to savour it. This lucidity had brought with it grief, and she tasted salt tears on her lips.
There was a blossom of warmth on her shoulder; it was Link, his hand on her arm to calm her. In his eyes were tears too, though he quickly drew his hand away and wiped his eyes dry. They sat together a long while like this, shoulder to shoulder, saying nothing. Zelda had forgotten what it was like -- gentleness, compassion, the presence and understanding of another. Fighting for her own composure, Zelda took a deep breath and continued to speak.
"I may not have known her very well. But Hyrule feels her loss, she was a rare pillar of light -- they all were -- and Mipha most of all would have been much needed now."
After it all, Link simply nodded. The rain had stopped. Without a word, he hopped to his feet and dusted himself off. He offered a hand to Zelda, and she took it with some hesitation.
"Thank you," he said after he pulled her up. "Really."
"It's nothing," Zelda began, dizzy from all of her thoughts. "Consider it my apology, for the way I've been lately."
Link smiled. "You don’t need to apologise. It wasn't unexpected."
"What does that mean?"
"I remember your temper."
"It's not a temper!"
Link raised his hands and backed away. "Well, I do have a pretty good memory.”
"No you don't!" She gave him a playful hit on the shoulder.
"Hey!" Link laughed, jotling away from her. “That wasn’t very Princess-like.”
“It wasn’t? What about this?!” Zelda lashed another swipe out towards his other shoulder, but Link dodged cleanly.
“Woah - nearly!” He began to bounce on his feet, suddenly revitalised by this little game. “I haven’t had a sparring partner in ages.”
“No - this is absurd!” Zelda said, but tried again anyway. Link leapt backwards to avoid her swipe, hoping down towards the banks of the wetland.
“You’ll catch me eventually!” he laughed.
They stared at each other intently for just a moment, and then Link broke into a run. Link fled along along the bank, boots splashing in the shallow water with Zelda in pursuit. She nearly caught him, but Link spun on his heel and turned to sprint across one of the submerged log bridges that snaked their way through the wetlands. Zelda bounded after him, exhilarated to feel the rush of cold air in her lungs and the pounding of blood through her veins. It made her feel young, like a child. Link seemed to slip on some of the logs, momentarily halted, and Zelda took full advantage of the opportunity. She leapt to tag him on the shoulder and raced past him, shouting “Your turn!”
Link cried out in alarm, but Zelda kept running. She fled across to the neighbouring island, and saw over her shoulder that Link was gaining on her, smiling wide as he chased her. She never wanted to stop running; never wanted to stop feeling as alive as she did at this moment. The sun had well set, but the silvery light from the moon filtering past the dispersing clouds above reflected brilliantly off the shallow waters. In the low light, another one of the log bridges was visible, and Zelda made to cross it. Sliding down the back, she leapt onto the bridge, splashing into the cool waters.
And that was when she saw it. The shock seized her limbs and she fell forwards, prone and half submerged in the low water as she gazed up at the gargantuan before her.
The Guardian was spilled out across the logs, half of its mechanical legs twisted underneath it, and the other half missing entirely. Under the moonlight, its dark granite body almost seemed blue, and its singular cyclops eye gazed unblinkingly in her direction. It did not move, but it seemed alive. No, it was alive. It had to be. They all were, raining fire and destruction down on her home, on Hyrule.
Zelda shrieked, scrambling backwards but unable to get any purchase on the mud and the logs. Her head swam, the sights and sounds coming back as they had the day she’d fallen from her horse.
Father help me. Mother help me. It’s too bright. I can’t help him. I can’t hold him. I can’t--
Instinct took over. Zelda raised her right hand, and just as she unleashed a surge of energy towards the Guardian, her appointed knight came into view.
With fervour, Link snapped another bundle of twigs and placed them in the growing fire. His eyes never left his work. For this, Zelda was glad. One glance from him and she’d be crying all over again.
He’d found her lying in the swampy waters, in near hysterics. Pulling her to her feet, Link all-but carried her back to their camp. She had wept and shook the entire way, only calming once he set her down on her bedroll, and explained pointedly that the Guardian she had found was dead - as were all of them.
“How can you be sure?” Zelda had demanded.
“I remember killing it,” Link had said tersely. "And many others."
There had been fear in his voice, of all things, and an urgency that almost sounded like panic. He placed his cloak around her and for a moment looked her directly in the eye. Scrutinising. Assessing. Maybe wondering what in Hylia’s name was wrong with her.
Instead he’d asked, “Are you okay?”
Zelda nodded, still shivering.
At this, he’d said no more and had begun gathering wood for a fire.
Now the fire was lit and burning brightly. Zelda shuffled closer for warmth. Her tears were dried now, as were her clothes. She rubbed her eyes, balling her fists tight out of shame. So much for being able to manage herself.
Link approached. “Fire’s set. Maybe let’s just get some sleep.” Zelda nodded and settled into her bedroll. There was nothing more to say.
When the daylight came, Zelda permitted herself to look back towards where the Guardian lay. Whatever she had done to it, she had used enough force to blast its husk almost thirty feet backwards and tear off its remaining legs. No matter what Link said, the Guardian was well and truly dead now. They trudged in silence through the remaining stretch of wetlands, and by evenfall were within close distance of Zora’s Domain.
In the rapidly-fading light, the shadow of Vah Ruta spanned across the valley. As they made their way through Luto’s Crossing, Zelda looked skyward. To see inside a Divine Beast once more would be incredible, she thought, unable to fathom it. She caught a glimpse of a navy-scaled Zora atop the wide plateau where Vah Ruta stood, and felt her quiet elation melt like summer snow. The thought of meeting with the Zoras, and of discussing the future of Hyrule, filled her with dread where she had for so long expected to feel anticipation. But Vah Ruta needed her. The Beast had not been entirely freed of the Malice, nor had any of the other three. Still, Zelda felt a paralyzing fear as she gazed up at the otherworldly swirls on stone of the Divine Beast’s body. She hoped that with the Calamity past and Ganon gone, most of the chaos was past as well.
When Zelda looked back at the plateau, the navy Zora was gone, and from the tall plateau Zelda could hear distant shouting. It seemed to grow louder and more frantic the longer she stared up at the Divine Beast. She stopped, gripping the rails of the crossing and craning her neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the commotion. Link had stopped beside her and he too was gazing up at the Beast, his face twisted with concern and confusion.
“Something’s happening up there. Something's wrong,” Zelda said. Link nodded in agreement.
And then the shouting stopped, drowned out by a booming shriek that filled the valley surrounding the Zora River. Zelda recognised it immediately, her skin prickling, the rumble resonating through her body; the trumpeting of a divine elephant. Vah Ruta!
Link pushed off from the rails and hurried further along the crossing, a palm outstretched to beckon for Zelda to follow. If he had been anyone else, she might have hesitated, but instead she swallowed her fear and took his hand.
As they raced together towards Zora’s Domain, Zelda could not strike the sound of that roar from her mind. It was a warning, an omen, one that they could not ignore. They were alive, yes, and together for now. Calamity Ganon had been defeated, but that was not the end of that.
Divine Beast Vah Ruta roared again, the whole valley shuddering in response, and Zelda knew what it meant. Together or apart, Princess and Knight or no one at all, their work was not done, and the world was full of chaos still.
Elsewhere…
As a child growing up in Karusa Valley, Chancellor Leilo’s instructors had told him that living in the desert instils peace in the soul. Peace with the harsh land; peace with one's limits; peace with oneself.
Yet peace eluded him, no matter where he went. Beyond the threshold of his shanty in Gerudo Tower Valley, the first sounds of the late-summer sandstorm had begun to fill air. The rising winds rattled the shutters and sent tremors rippling through his hut, despite its construction into the wind-hewn cliff face. Storms like these would bring more than sand and dust in the coming months; Hyrule had not endured a harsh Winter in some years, and Chancellor Leilo could feel the oncoming darkness in his bones.
More like the darkness is already here, he mused, ever since the defeat of Master Kohga at the hands of that Hylian.
The one they called Champion; the one carrying the Sheikah Slate. Whispers on the trails and through the towns spoke of Kohga’s de-throning as though it were legend. No two Yiga able to agree on just how his valiant death occurred. Some swore the Hylian boy snuck into the Master’s chamber and poured an odourless poison onto his pillow, before sneaking off into the night. Others spoke of a great battle between the two, and how the Hylian had used sorcery to stop time. Others were convinced it was a ruse, that Kohga had staged his death--to throw the boy off his guard--and would later return to them, victorious against the so-called Champion.
Chancellor Leilo suspected that none of these rumours were correct, though he had no wish to discover the truth. Havoc had ruled the Yiga in the months since Kohga’s disappearance; for without a Master, the vacuum at the center of their clan threatened to swallow them whole.
Another gust sent the shutter battering against the window panes, and Leilo nearly wanted to cover his ears to drown out the incessant sound. Restless, he rose from his small writing desk and hobbled over to the shanty door. With weak fingers he pried it open, and called for his assistant Inglis, who was outside preparing their supper. The spry, Akkalan boy, with the pale skin of a northerner and neat, bark-brown hair loped over from the cooking pot. He was a new recruit, barely a man, and Chancellor Leilo could tell that Inglis was not too thrilled at being assigned the role of steward to one as elderly as himself.
Inglis stood to attention, his hands behind his back. He was as plain as he was polite, a quality that Chancellor Leilo found strangely irritating. “Yes, Chancellor?” the boy said.
“Finish your work, Inglis, and come inside. The storm will be here within the hour."
The boy nodded sharply, and jogged back over to the pot. For a moment Chancellor Leilo remained at the doorway, watching the boy at work over their food, before passing his eyes over the circular valley for any signs of movement. There was nothing to see except the rising heat off the sands beyond, the shining blue lights of Gerudo Tower overhead, and the leviathan-like wall of dust that crept across the desert towards them. Weary, the Chancellor turned, and returned to his desk.
Leilo had held the role of Chancellor for only half a year, and it was only three months into his new position that Master Kohga had been defeated. As tradition dictated -- and tradition was at the core of the Yiga Clan -- a new Master was to be elected, and it seemed every Yiga with more than a year’s service to their name thought themselves worthy. The role of selecting the candidates and running the election had fallen to Leilo -- and after months of infighting, bloody duels between members, and more bribery offers than he could count, Chancellor Leilo wanted nothing more than to put a few miles between him and that damned Valley. He had traveled to the desert with Inglis so that his mind could be at peace, and to select the worthy candidates among the applicants.
No less than seventeen Yiga had put their names down; more than half of them too young, and another half after that too reckless to lead. For such an old clan, the Chancellor pondered, how could it be that so many of them were idiots?
His assistant had not yet returned. Soon the sun would set, and the storm would arrive.
“Inglis!” the Chancellor called as he glanced over his notes. “Inglis, hurry up, will you!”
The door creaked open, slow and measured in a way that sent a chill down the Chancellor’s spine. He could not make himself turn.
“Hello, Leilo," came the voice at the door. The Chancellor recognised it immediately. Slowly, he stood from his chair and turned to face it. A tall and thin man stood in the doorway, no older than twenty-five, with messy red hair and piercing dark eyes. He was dressed in plain traveller’s clothes, though his trousers and shirt were too short. He carried a painted Duplex Bow.
“Bold of you to return this close to Karusa Valley," Leilo said. “You should not be here, deserter."
“There’s nowhere I should be," the man responded contemptuously. “You however, should not be here either."
Chancellor Leilo swallowed his fear, gripping his chair for support. He had scores of years on this boy - perhaps he could not fight, but there was no honour in being afraid.
“What have you done with Inglis?” Leilo demanded. “I know your methods.”
“Inglis is just fine. He is not hurt," the man crooned. His presence in the hut brought the faint smell of cinnamon. It almost made Leilo gag.
“You use our ways against us. You are worse than a traitor."
The boy laughed, and advanced into the hut. “Us?” he challenged. “What purpose does the Yiga Clan have anymore? Or have you been in this hovel for so long that you did not hear? Did not see?”
“I will not tolerate this, deserter," Leilo barked. “Leave us! Flee with your tail between your legs - just as you did those years ago!”
The deserter ignored him, unflinching. “Calamity Ganon is dead. Slain by a boy."
"That isn't possible. You lie."
"I would never. It was a boy with Shiekah magic, Leilo. And he lives. He’s been spotted in Lanayru, travelling with some Hylian girl."
Leilo tried to keep his face as steely as he could, but his soul was old, and his spirit was no longer strong. The deserter noticed, wicked smile widening.
“Hyrule Castle waits to be conquered," he goaded, taking another step into the hut. “And the Yiga sit and nibble their feathers while it lays empty."
“We cannot operate without a Master,” Leilo protested. “You of all people know the chaos brought about when someone murders one of our leaders!”
The deserter pouted. “Come now, you managed. I hear Secretary Milagre is doing a fine job taking over for… whatever his name was.”
“How dare you! You cut down one of our own and don’t even have the respect to remember his name!”
“Well, it’s been a while,” the deserter said, fiddling with his bow out of disinterest. “And it’s not why I’m here.”
“Why then? What do you care for the Yiga now anyway?”
“Just because I’m no longer part of your little club doesn’t mean I no longer care. There’s so much to be done now that the Champion has freed up that Castle. You should see it, see what’s there, see what’s below – "
A gust of wind sent a fine rain of dust down from the rafters, adding another coat of silt to the already stuffy and dirt-strewn hut. Chancellor Leilo was unable to stop himself from coughing, hacking and lurching while the man looked on and sighed.
"Well, it won't do any good to tell you what we found there,” he said. “You'll never see it."
Leilo composed himself, leaning haggardly against his chair for support. He knew the deserter’s heart just as he knew the cinnamon scent that followed wherever he went. Despite his aging mind, Chancellor Leilo remembered well the short years that the deserter studied under his tutelage. “You think taking Hyrule will mean there will finally be a place for you? You think the world will change that fast? I don’t care for your ambitions, deserter, no more than I did when you left us."
The deserter surged forward, a large, dirt-strewn hand outstretched. The Chancellor was hurtled backwards as his attacker pinned him against the wall.
“You should care, Leilo,” the man said. “Because one of the obstacles to my ambitions is you."
The Chancellor squealed like a chick, his breath ragged as he battled the dust in the air and the immoveable fingers at his throat. “Inglis! Inglis!” he cried.
“You see, I know that your Yiga will make a move for Hyrule Castle the second you have a new Master. And since I’m yet to gather my forces, I figure the best way to stall for time is to prevent the election from occurring at all."
“Inglis!” the Chancellor shrieked. He flailed his arms and legs, but the boy’s greater strength kept him pinned to the wall. “Inglis!”
His assistant appeared at the doorway, and regarded the Chancellor stoically. “Sorry, Chancellor," Inglis said calmly. He nodded to the shanty’s other occupant. “At the ready, Chief."
“Very good, Inglis." the deserter replied, not taking his eyes off the Chancellor.
“You...you…” the Chancellor regarded Inglis with disbelief. “With him?”
“Always have been, Chancellor." Inglis answered. The deserter seemed to take great pleasure in the exchange, his dark eyes hungry for the Chancellor’s reaction.
“My people will survive me," Leilo croaked, feeling suddenly faint, and light - lighter than he had felt since his youth.
“No, they won’t," the deserter smiled. “There’s a new regime coming to Hyrule."
A sharp pain ripped through the Chancellor’s chest before he even noticed the dagger in his attacker’s hand. The deserter withdrew, and Leilo toppled down onto the floor, his lungs afire with pain.
“Wh… Why…?” he muttered before his breath left him, watching helplessly as the deserter sauntered uncaringly towards the doorway.
“Come, Inglis," he smiled, patting the young Akkalan on the back. “We need to make it into Karusa Valley before this storm hits."
There was another creak, and the pair were gone. Chanellor Leilo closed his eyes, feeling the essence within him slowly fade. The hut stank of dust and dirt and cinnamon, and Leilo was unable to escape it, any of it. Not the stench, not his death, and not the storm.