Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Near the Queen’s chambers in the Palace of Twilight, the only sound that could be heard was the distant commotion of Palace City, as servants prepared to retire for the night. It was silent — that is, if you discounted the sound of the Queen of Twilight’s shadowskin-cloaked feet moving through the grey stone hallways.

Slightly tired from her day, she stopped in front of a large, ornate window that overlooked much of her Kingdom of Twilaea. Below, well-trimmed grass and flowers surrounded a small pond in one of many of the Palace’s gardens. Above, she saw the dimming of the Sols; white orbs, engraved with straight lines running in a pattern of circuits, like veins with sharp angles glowing turquoise; the symbols of the Twili, that provided power and light for the denizens of the Twilight Realm, in the absence of a shining sun. Their darkening states signalled the approach of dusk and the birth of the glowing embers of twilight, illuminating the Queen’s pale blue skin in an orange glow. With a sigh, Midna took off her royal headpiece, and untied the bow of orange hair that kept the hood of her long black embroidered robe secured to her head, and let her hair flow down her back.

The sound of footsteps made her turn. In the middle of the hallway stood a black and grey wolf, with white markings drawn across the top of its head. A small blue-skinned Twili child was laid across its back. The wolf’s blue eyes softened when they met Midna’s.

Midna smiled.“My wolf. Had to tire out Ori before he could finally go to sleep, hm?”

In response, the wolf broke into floating black squares, before they reformed into a Hylian man. He brushed his sandy blonde hair out of his pale face — the lack of sunlight in Twilaea had worked away at his farmer’s tan over the years. Atop his forehead was a headpiece nearly identical to hers, with snaking lines of silver intersecting at the middle where a sapphire gemstone sat, the same colour as his sharp eyes. The royal jewellry just barely obscured white markings on his forehead, the same ones as that of the wolf. He adjusted the black wolf fur cloak draped around his shoulders before turning his gaze back to Midna. “Our little light has far too much energy,” he chuckled, as he drew Ori closer to the green tunic he wore. “How did it go with Layla?”

Midna placed a hand over her forehead in exasperation over the young teenager. “You know how she is, Link. She was all, ‘But Mama! It’s the weekend, why can’t I stay up?’ and wouldn’t go to bed until I promised to take her to the Hanging Gardens tomorrow.”

“A natural bargainer, that one. Wonder who she takes after?”

A memory of her haggling with Malo over the frankly ridiculous price of the Magic Armour made her laugh softly, taking care not to wake Ori. She beckoned her husband and son towards Ori’s sleeping chambers. After tucking their little one to bed with a kiss goodnight, Midna took Link’s hand and walked him over to the balcony just outside the room.

The Hero-King of Twilight leaned against his wife’s shoulder — he was a head shorter than her, after all — and looked upon their realm. Lost in thought, he let out a deep exhale.

“A rupee for your thoughts, my love?” Midna asked.

“Just how the sound of people crossing the Mirror of Twilight hurts my ears.”

“Eee hee, I’m sure you’re the only one truly bothered by that, my wolf. No really, what runs through your mind?”

Link gazed out at the horizon, at the Sol Towers, and watched how the Sols contained within them darkened. They gave way to the expanse of dark clouds set against orange skies blending with purple, that touched the rooftops of shops and homes spanning Palace City. The sounds of an awakening Palace City nightlife pricked at his sensitive ears. He thought back to what Twilaea looked like during his and Midna’s adventure together.

“Do you remember what this place was like after we fought Zant? The destruction he caused, how the ruins of buildings lined the streets, how — by Din, he brought down the entire Palace! But now, it’s so beautiful… Look at how happy our people are. Look at how many people from Hyrule visit Twilaea now! For helping build this place back up, I think you and I—”

“—and Zelda—”

“—and Zelda,” Link laughed, “have done a very good job at it.”

Midna wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist to pull him in closer, and turned his head towards her. Crimson eyes, overflowing with love, gazed back into his cerulean ones. “I love it when you take pride in yourself, my wolf.” She leaned down and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Slowly drawing himself away from her lips, a smile brightening his face, Link reluctantly moved his gaze from his gorgeous wife back to Twilaea’s beautiful twilit skies. He loved the orange-purple expanse. Back in Hyrule, before he became the Goddesses’ Chosen Hero, before he met Midna, before he became her Hero-King, the setting sun and the awakening twilight always instilled in him a strange sadness. In Twilaea, in the arms of his beloved queen, the only emotion he felt was comfort.

“May Her Grace, O Radiant Solara and her Sols bless the twilight of Twilaea, and may our people, now and forever more, live well.”

✦

If Her Divinity, O Wise Nayru, in all her wisdom, were to personally ask the Hero-King of Twilight if he thought the people of Twilaea were living well in this day and age, he would most likely say, “I think to live well depends on your own outlook.” A non-answer, then.

If you were to ask young Link Vesper, he would give you something along the lines of—

“GET BACK HERE, YOU THIEVING RAT!”

—No, probably not.

A stone missed one of his long pointed ears by centimetres, bouncing off the stone pathways and scattering into one of many of Palace City’s unkempt alleyways.

No, definitely not.

The footsteps of the Twilaean Royal Guard pounded behind him. Wrapping the cloak and headwrap tighter around his head and face, he took a quick glance down at his ‘reappropriated’ items. In his left hand, an appreciable-sized bag of rupees. In his right, a bag full of bread and other baked goods. Link had no idea why he took the bread to begin with — the plan was to grab the rupees and leave — but he was a bit hungry for good food, and the place whose items he just ‘repossessed’ was one of the high class bakeries in Palace City.

A quick dash into a side street gave him a small breather, and a chance to lighten his load. A snap of his fingers, and his ‘repossessions’ broke down into hundreds of tiny black squares that soared into his body to be kept inside his shadow storage. A yell from behind broke his concentration, leaving behind a singular tangible bagel in his hands.

By the Sols’ light, can’t they just leave a poor boy alone? Link gritted his teeth, and broke into a sprint to get away from the guard hot on his tail. Unfortunately for him, these were the City Guard, and they were more difficult to lose than the heavily armoured Palace Guard.

In the middle of his sprint, he picked up a dropped brick from a house that really needed a renovation — he must have ran far, into the outskirts of Palace City to see these kind of ruined homes — in his bagel-less hand, and spared a quick glance over his shoulder.

A City Guard somehow kept up with him throughout his impromptu marathon. He was almost unbothered by the long wooden steel-tipped spear he was holding in his right hand. He clearly wasn’t weighed down by the light leather chestpiece covering his black tunic, either. Even worse, the index finger of his left hand was pointed straight at Link, with the middle and thumb touching, about to snap.

A shadow snare!

In one swift motion, Link leapt to the side to avoid the orange-outlined jet black circle forming below his feet, then turned around and pitched the brick he held at his pursuer with the speed and accuracy that would’ve made an Octorok proud.

A cry, a crash of something heavy hitting stone, and the clatter of a dropped weapon relieved Link of one tail, but the shouts in the not-so-far distance made it clear he wasn’t out of the woods yet. To regain some energy used up sprinting, he took a bite of the bagel, and found it was rather… hard and crunchy? Like… a brick.

He glanced down. All that met his eyes was one bagel-less hand and the other, brick-full. With his saliva and a bite mark on said brick.

Oh Farore, he just used that probably-would-have-been delectable bagel to throw a guard into the pavement. He didn’t question how a thrown bagel had enough force to trip someone his size, nor how his teeth had made a dent in the brick. As he ducked into an alleyway, he drew two circles, one inside the other, with a dot in the very centre — a symbol of Solara, the Goddess of the Sols — on his chest and prayed to Her Grace alongside whatever Goddess of Baked Goods existed in the world that his martyr of a bread roll would be honoured in the Bread Sacred Realm for their sacrifice.

Unfortunately for him and the sacrificial bagel, the prayers went unanswered as he came face to face with another City Guard.

“He’s here! Surrender, thief! Make this easy for all of us!”

Link had no intentions of doing so. He attempted to leap forwards and to the left to get past the guard, but the narrow alley made it hard to maneuver. A single snap sounded and he was ensnared by orange sparks that ran around his legs. The guard stepped forward to grab Link, but unluckily for him, his unskilled magic left Link with two untrapped limbs. Even more unlucky for the guard was that Link was currently blessed by the Goddess of Building Materials.

The guard attempted to block with the shaft of his spear, but the brick in Link’s hands easily snapped it and carried on into the guard’s leather chestplate, knocking the air out of him. Budget not so great for weapons, Link thought as he followed through with a low sweep to his opponent’s legs and a rising punch to the side of the guard’s falling skull to knock him out cold.

With the knowledge that a few more guards were closing in — why were they using so many on one ‘repossessor?’ — Link turned into another side street, and just narrowly stopped in time to avoid crashing into a long line, right outside a food bank. The sound of footsteps became louder and louder, and Link weighed his options. He wedged himself in the line and tried to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible — an absurd feat, considering that his all-black attire that covered his face made him look incredibly suspicious.

“Oi, kid, get your ass to the back of the line!” a gruffy Twili man barked, throwing out a pale blue hand to yank Link backwards by the back of his cloak. “You know how long we’ve been waiting our turn? Hours!”

Before Link could reply, the Royal Guard had made their appearance in the dusty street. One particularly tall guard slammed his spear into the ground to silence the commotion. “Have any of you seen a thief pass by? He stole a large sum of money from a bakery, and downed two of our men!” Link managed to hide himself better amongst the crowd, but the movement had alerted the guard. He walked over to the man who had just grabbed Link, and put his gloved hand on his shoulder.

“What’s your problem?” the man asked, irritation flooding his voice.

“Average height. Wearing all black, covering his face. Have you seen any individual that matches that description?” the guard barked.

“The fuck’s wrong with you? You know how much you Royal lapdogs use up in taxes? By the Sols’ light, I can’t even afford to eat, and now you pieces of shit want to ruin my day even more?” the Twili snarled.

The guard stiffened, and put his fingers together in preparation for a shadow snare. “Listen, trash,” he hissed. “If you’re hiding your rat buddy, you’re in deep shit for conspiracy.”

Link had half a mind to leave and let the man take the fall for him — the guy was a prick. But the guard was an even bigger prick, and in combination with Link’s stupidity altruism, he couldn't run away. Link rushed forward from the crowd surrounding the two men, and before the guard could react in time, he kicked his legs out from under him. Immediately, Link grabbed his opponent’s head and slammed it into his knee, before swiping the spear and smashing the butt into its previous owner’s head for good measure. Huffing, Link looked back at the man he just saved from a wrongful arrest.

“Wow, uhh… thanks, kid,” he said, wide-eyed, glancing at the knocked out guard.

Link didn’t respond, and the crowd dispersed around him as he ran away. The commotion had attracted a few other members of the City Guard, who began interrogating the bread line of Link’s whereabouts. Link rounded the corner of an alleyway on the right to escape their sight.

“He went that way!” the gruffy Twili said, pointing at an alleyway on the left.

When the guards took the man’s tip, Link silently thanked him, and continued running away. A few more strides, and he leapt through an open window into an abandoned house. He quickly sat down under the windowsill and waited until another squad of guards, who had decided to cover their bases, passed by.

Once their sounds died in the distance, Link rose, leaned forwards on a dustless table, took off his face coverings, and finally let himself catch his breath. He looked up and peered around at the empty, dark home. Save for the occasional couch, table and chair, there was hardly any furniture to speak of. The cupboards and shelves were devoid of possessions, but the house suspiciously did not have a lot of dust built up. That was because this hideout was used quite often during Link’s ‘repossessions.’ Luckily, no one paid a lot of attention to this place, and it was rather secluded on the outskirts of Palace City, so no one had caught him so far—

“Hey, mutt! What the hell was that?”

Still pumped up on the remnants of his adrenaline rush, Link bit down on his tongue to keep himself from shrieking. He whirled around and threw his trusty brick straight at the intruder, but it only impacted the far wall with a thud as his assailant had dived into the shadows.

Quite literally, as the blackness of the floorboards themselves rose and reformed into a figure that towered over Link.

A Twili woman, almost a head taller than Link, looked down at him. Fiery orange hair parted down the middle broke around her long pointed black Twilit-patterned ears and choppily ended at her neck, framing a narrow pale blue face. A short robe, its inside a bright turquoise, its outside black with silver Twili glyphs running along it, was draped over a black short-sleeved tunic, tapering off just below her hips. A thin cloth-like material, woven out of Twilit shadow magic, clung to her like a second skin, and covered the rest of her arms with teal markings on the front of her forearms shining through. The same shadowskin also covered her legs like tights, running down into cuffed black boots. Most striking were her different-coloured eyes — one a piercing crimson, the other a soothing azure. Or they would be soothing, if both eyes didn’t belong to a face that was currently sneering at Link.

“Wow. Don’t even recognize the silky, gorgeous voice of your best friend Midna?” she grinned, showing off her fanged canines.

Link took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Mids, please don’t scare me like that. Also what do you mean ‘what the hell was that?’”

“So jumpy. But you know exactly what the hell I mean! Running straight into the back of the bakery like that? Swiping everything that you can get your hands on? Getting nearly every goddess-damned guard in the city on your ass? You know that was supposed to be my job, right?”

“Okay, sure.” Link raised his arms in surrender. “But those guards in the bakery were looking at you funny—”

“Like they were supposed to be?”

“Okay, okay! But they were looking at you weird. Mids, you couldn’t have shadowdived away from them; pretty sure they were carrying deku nuts and dazzlefruits! Besides, I’m pretty quick on my feet, and they had some skilled sorcerers with them.”

Midna raised an eyebrow. “Like the guy who completely missed his snare? Or the guy who only got your legs and left himself wide open?”

“You saw that? Nevermind,” Link shook his head, “I’m sorry for not sticking to the plan. I just didn’t want you getting hurt for no reason.”

“Wow, thanks, Mr. Important Hero. It’s almost like I was supposed to be the bait.” Midna rolled her eyes. “Did you at least get everything?”

A snap of Link’s fingers and a coalescing of black squares into a bag and a pile of bread rolls was his answer. He dumped the rupee bag onto the table, the two of them counting two silvers, one purple, two yellows, four blues, and three greens. He stepped back to let her take a closer look. “See? 293 rupees,” he said. “Not bad, huh?”

Midna flicked her wrist to summon a rectangular object from the far side of the room into her hands. With a smirk, she said, “Forgetting your favourite pastry, fleabag?” She mimed taking a bite into the brick, before placing it into her partner-in-crime’s hands.

Link dropped the brick onto the table, and placed his head into his hands to cover his burning cheeks. “You saw that?”

Midna’s only response was to double over laughing.

Lowering his hands, Link glanced past Midna at the open window and stayed silent to listen if any guards had suddenly decided to check out the alleyway outside. A few seconds of silence proved the negative. After a snap of his fingers, and the subsequent dissolving of the bread and rupees, Link looked back at his friend. “So… are you going to warp us back home?”

She shook her head. “Nope, sorry, gotta take the long way. I’ve gotta save my magic reserves for something else.”

Link didn’t question it; he didn’t want to push her too hard, especially not after he messed up their heist reappropriation. A small peek out of the front door left and right let the two of them know they were in the clear. Making their way through filth, run-down homes, and beggars, they made it out of the Palace City outskirts and into the near infinite expanse of bright teal grass that made up Twilaea Field.

Some banter, a sneaky hitched ride on one of the many horse-drawn carriages making their way across the plains, and some additional walking was all it took to make it back to the outside of their hometown.

The two of them took in the familiar sight and sound of the rustling bright teal leaves held up by dark grey branches that made up the canopy of thick forest, just above the giant old wooden arch marking the boundary between Twilaea Field and the outskirts of Ordon Village. The village the duo lived and grew up in was named after the village the legendary Hero-King of Twilight grew up in centuries ago, but his was in the Light Realm — Hyrule, specifically — while Link and Midna’s Ordon Village was situated firmly under the Sol-lit skies of the Twilight Realm.

The story goes that the Hero-King and his wife, the Queen of a New Dawn (as she was so affectionately nicknamed by her loyal subjects), had built this place up, and their family would come here often as a vacation spot. Funnily enough, while Link was born and raised on Ordon’s farms, he only met Midna after her family had taken a vacation in the village, and she took up residence after a few years.

The sound of Midna’s footsteps on a small wooden bridge crossing an equally small stream snapped Link out of his thoughts.

“Come on, mutt. You can get back to dreamland after we deliver the goods. Hurry it up!” she urged, beckoning him with a wave of her hand.

A sigh escaped Link in response to his friend’s comments, and he sped up to cross another ageing wooden arch to enter Ordon Village proper. Despite its history, it was a rather small farming community, with not too many residents. His neighbours strolled along dirt paths, carrying their groceries home from the farmer’s market in town. The sound of children could be heard splashing and swimming in the lake that provided much of Ordon with seafood to feast on and water to irrigate their fields. He could see the few fishermen, mostly Twili, a few Hylians, chatting away at the docks as they waited for the fish to bite. Over in the distance, the vast green of almost ripe Ordon pumpkins littered sown dirt; close to them was a ranch where the navy blue coats of Ordon goats peacefully grazed on lush grass.

He and Midna turned onto a split in the dirt road, making their way to a well-kept schoolhouse — at least, kept as well it was able to be. Dull red paint cracked and chipped in places, revealing the dark grey of Ordon lumber that also needed its primer to be touched up on, but the wildly-coloured paper decorations and cleanliness around it made obvious that it was loved.

Link drifted over to a small pond by the schoolhouse and looked at his reflection. His dirty blonde hair — as in the colour, not the cleanliness of it; he bathed often, no matter how much Midna called him a fleabag — was a bit messy from the winds over Twilaea Field, so he brushed it with his fingers. His scarlet eyes, a lighter shade than that of the usual Twili deep red, searched his pale Hylian-toned face for any marks he gained during his ‘repossession appointment’, before smoothing down the black hooded cloak he wore around a pine green tunic. Satisfied with his appearance, he looked back up at a smirking Midna.

“Seriously? Who are you trying to look good for, loverboy? I know Ardin looks good, but you know he has a man, right? Since, like, forever?” she snickered.

His face suddenly the shade of his own eyes, Link struggled to counter her teasing. “Shut up! I know you aren’t talking, Ms. Permanently Single!”

Still laughing, Midna shrugged off the weak comeback. “Can’t believe you’re bisexual and have nobody to love you. More like bi-yourself!”

“What?! You swing both ways too, Mids!”

“So? I’m gorgeous and tall and everybody’s intimidated by me. You’re built like a Minish with the face of a flea-ridden dog.” Midna stuck her tongue out.

Grumbling, and out of counters, Link knocked on the door to the school. A ‘come in!’ sounded out, and he turned the knob, snapping his fingers to reform his reappropriated goods. He walked in to see a tall, lanky Gerudo man sat down on a stool with his face looking down at a children’s picture book. A quick glance up revealed jade eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses sat atop a long sharp nose. Red hair curled around the bronzed brown of his face, and a smile came to him as he gazed upon the two standing near the doorway.

“Sav’aaq, Link, Midna!” he greeted.

Children of all shapes, sizes, and species leapt up from the circular formation they were sitting in around the Gerudo man, to rush towards the two young adults that had just entered.

“Ms. Midna! You’re back!”

“Mr. Link! Hi! Mr. Sanso was just reading us a story!”

“Link! Did you go robbing the rich again?”

“Wow, those rolls look so good! Can we have some? Please? Pleeeease?”

Midna squawked in indignation as bodies half her height swarmed her, preventing her from taking any steps forward, while Link simply smiled, snapped away the rupee bag, and handed out a bread roll to the little Twili girl pleading for one.

“Now, now kids! Mr. Link is kind enough to share his food with you all, so make a single file line if you want some!” the Gerudo teacher called out.

Instantaneously, the children assembled themselves into a single file line, albeit with some shoving and yells of ‘I asked first!’ in the mix. The first boy, a Twili-Hylian — or Twylian for short — child, held out his hands in preparation for his offering.

Link smiled. “Manners, Lyren. What do we say when we want something?”

“Please, may I have some bread, Mr. Link?” Lyren said.

Link placed the bread roll into a small, grabby pair of hands. “And after someone gives us something?”

“Thank you, Mr. Link!” Lyren said, before scurrying off back to the rug where his teacher sat.

“Lyren, remember what we learned? We only eat at the lunch tables,” the teacher gently told the boy, causing him to run back past the bread line to the tables on the other side of the small schoolhouse. The child bowed in apology to the Gerudo, unable to speak with his mouth comically stuffed full of bread.

After many ‘please’s’ and ‘thank you’s’, Link finally ran out of baked goods to spare, save for three, to the dismay of a few kids that had waited patiently. He apologised and promised to get them something even better next time to make up for it. The empty-handed kids bounded up to Midna instead, looking to see if she had any more treats to share.

“No! I don’t have anything for you, you goddess-da—” a pointed look from both Link and the Gerudo made her pause, “...dinged brats! And even if I did have anything, I wouldn’t share! Get off me!”

One girl smacked Midna’s thigh — “Ow! You brat!” — and the rebuked children ran off to the lunch tables to plead with their peers for a piece of food.

Link handed a cinnamon roll to Midna, then walked over onto a faded red rug. It was completely frayed at the edges, both from children with too much energy to sit still picking and pulling at it, and from its age. He reached over and snapped the rupee bag over, pouring its contents on the table, before walking over to the Gerudo man and handing him a spiced flatbread.

“Oh no, this is too much, Link. You’re too kind.” the man waved a hand in polite refusal.

“No way! You’ve done so much for us, Ardin. Please, I insist!” Link thrust the flatbread at him once more.

Ardin acquiesced, taking the bread into his hands. “Sarqso, Link. Did you get this from stealing, or was this bought using your own hard-earned rupees? Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t care, this is amazing,” he said, in between bites of the bread.

“I call it redistribution of wealth. Stealing makes me sound like a bad guy.” Link raised an eyebrow. “And what did you say about eating in the classroom?”

Ardin waved a hand. “Ah, when you’re old like me, rules no longer apply.”

“You’re only in your thirties! What do you mean, old?!”

“Late thirties,” he corrected. “Regardless, the children and I appreciate the kind ‘redistribution’, Mr. Shadow Thief. It’ll really help fix up the place. Sarqso, truly, from the bottom of my heart.”

Ardin stood up, and brushed stray crumbs from the white scale pendant around his neck, and the long white shirt he wore customary to Ordon Village held in place by a black belt adorned with Twili symbols. The man carried himself with wisdom more often found in men with decades more under their belt, but nearly every adult in Ordon Village was forced to grow up faster than expected.

Ardin Sanso was a Gerudo spirit voe — a voe (man in the Gerudo language) who was born a vai (woman in Gerudo) — who had crossed through the Mirror of Worlds from Hyrule to Twilaea and settled down in Ordon Village before Link was even born. Link saw him as an uncle of sorts — he did not have a crush on him, not anymore, Link was not a homewrecker — as he had trained him in the arts of Gerudo combat, armed and unarmed, along with the Gerudo art of ‘wealth redistribution’, and kept him company whenever Midna’s vacations had ended and she had to go back home and go to school in Palace City. Ardin had also pretty much raised him and Midna until they became of age.

“Where’s Aryll?” Link asked, looking around the place.

“Ah, she had to go to —”

“Big Brother! Big Brother!” A short yellow blur dashed out of a bathroom near the back of the school, and collided straight into Link, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Big Brother! Did you get anything for me?” A little blonde girl looked up at him, bright scarlet eyes wide and gleaming with anticipation. She picked at the baby blue vest she wore, before ruffling the panels of her navy blue knee-length skirt. Her excitement, or the fatigue from running, or perhaps both, showed in the form of both a rosy pink blush laid across her pale peachy face, and long black pointed ears twitching.

Link squatted down to hand his younger sister a small puffy loaf of bread, with butter smeared over the scores on its topside. “Here you go, Aryll,” he said.

“Thank you, Big Brother!” she squealed as she ran over to Midna to try to get more treats out of her.

While Ardin scooped the rupees back into the bag, Link turned around and saw Midna kneel down and split her cinnamon roll in two, giving one half to Aryll, who was clearly using her adorable face to her fullest extent. Aryll shoved both the puffy loaf and the cinnamon roll half simultaneously into her open mouth — she took after Link’s egregious eating habits — and managed to get out a ‘fank wuu, mauntie Midma’ out of her stuffed cheeks. ‘Midma’ opened her arms to embrace Aryll in a hug, ruffling her hair in the process. Aryll tightened the pine green Twilit-patterned headband that kept her bangs from falling over her eyes, then ran away to play with her friends. Midna’s eyes then drifted over to Link, who was still looking at her with a smirk on his face. She coughed and stood up far too quickly, causing her to stumble as a faint purple brushed her cheeks.

Midna walked over to the classroom, intentionally bumping into the shoulders of a still amused Link. “Don’t,” she muttered under her breath. “Sav’aaq, Ardin!” she said, quickly replacing her flustered look with a cheerful one.

“Ah, yes, sav’aaq and sarqso to you too, Midna.” Tying the bag to his belt, he clapped his hands. “Ah, right! Have you helped out with the goats at Fadel’s ranch? He was quite unhappy, you know, accusing you two of skipping out on your work!” Midna’s face suddenly went blank. “Another thing, Link. My husband was looking for you. Said he has… where did Midna go?”

Link turned to his side, also noticing a sudden lack of an orange-haired Twili. He looked up at the ceiling and found black squares floating up before they faded away into oblivion. So that’s what she saved her magic for, he thought.

But that meant she had tossed him to the wolves. His face paling, Link dashed towards the door of the schoolhouse, calling out a “Bye Ardin! Don’t want to make Fardel too upset, haha! See you!” as he left the Gerudo unable to complete the rest of what he wanted to tell Link.

“Big Brother, what about Epona?!”

Dust was left in Link’s wake as he sprinted down the dirt path towards the ranch with the speed of a charging Lynel. He should’ve ridden in on his beloved horse, Epona, but he really had no idea where she was at the moment and had no time to spare. Even less time to spare, as he was stopped by Ardin’s husband, Toran.

“By Jabu-Jabu, Link, what’s got you in a rush?” The Zora raised his purple-scaled… eyebrows…? Eyescales? as he placed webbed hands onto Link’s shoulders to stop him from bowling them both over. “Did my husband tell you what I wanted? Link, I need—”

“Sorry, Mayor! I gotta help out Fadel with the goats, and you know how he is!” Link said, in a desperate attempt to get past the Zora and face a little less of the ranch owner’s wrath.

Toran gave a chuckle at that. “Yes, Link, I get it. But I need your help with delivering a tribute to the Royal Family tomorrow. Rosso has made a mighty fine sword, and I would like you to ride to the Palace of Twilight—”

“Got it, Mayor! I’ll do it! Now can you let me go?!” Link tapped his boots on the stone pavement leading up to the mayor’s house impatiently, glancing above to see how much the Sols had dimmed as they spoke.

Toran shook his head, the purple fins at the side and back of his head flapping alongside. “No,” he said, before moving behind Link, placing both of his hands on the young man, and marching him over to the front of his house. “Listen, Link, this is incredibly important. We are to maintain good relations with the Royals. You know exactly their wealth and power over Twilaea, and that includes us Ordonians. Do you understand, young man?”

The young man in question’s attention was piqued, and he clenched his jaw in an attempt to hide any irritation from appearing on his face. Toran was right, he, and everyone in Ordon, knew the Twilaean Royal Family’s considerable political power, mostly for the worse. The only reason their farms weren’t bought out to ship all their produce to Royal grocery stores is because the Hero-King’s blessing was still highly respected, allowing Ordon Village to retain a semblance of independence from the Crown — for now.

Toran let out a sigh. “Link, just hold on for a moment. I know we don’t have… the best relationship with the Royal Family. But all you have to do is get to the Palace’s outside gates with the sword, some Ordon milk and pumpkins,” he tucked a letter into the brown leather belt around Link’s waist, “and give the guards that. They’ll unload your goods, board Epona, and take you to the throne, where you’ll kneel to the King and Queen. Give your respects, give them Rosso’s sword, stand, bow, and leave. It’ll be simple, and it’ll be a great help to us. Understand?”

Link gave a tight smile and a thumbs-up, and Toran released his shoulders. He then ran and leapt over the gate closing off the ranch that kept the goats from getting loose. There, he met the eyes of one innocent-looking Midna with the fakest guilty look Link had ever seen kneeling in the grass next to a goat and a bucket, with her fingers wrapped around its teats. A few paces between her and Link, a tall, muscular Twili holding two buckets in each hand looked down on him, a glare coming out of crimson eyes that would’ve pierced Link’s lungs if it could.

“Mr. Vesper,” Fadel said, with a voice far too calm in contrast to his enraged expression.

Link pulled out the letter. “Listen, sir, the Mayor needed to talk to me and —”

“Do you think that once you turn seventeen years old you are automatically free of responsibility? That you can do whatever you want without a care in the world?”

“No, sir,” he squeaked, trying to fold in on himself and focused on counting the blades of grass in the field instead of looking up.

“Then prove it.” He walked up to Link and handed him both of the buckets. “Two buckets of milk by the end of the day. And you are herding them back into the pen. Without Mid—”

“Two buckets? Sir, I can’t—”

“Don’t interrupt me, boy!” he yelled. Link snapped his mouth shut. Fadel stepped aside, and gripped Link’s left shoulder so tight he thought the bone would splinter into pieces. He then pointed to Midna, in the middle of milking a goat into a bucket three-quarters full, and currently wearing the most joyless smile one could ever make. Link knew she would never admit it, but her fear of Fadel’s wrath at any possible derision on her end had cancelled out how smug she would’ve felt. “Look at her, Link. Midna was late, but she made up for it by doing her job immediately without complaint. She’s one of my most skilled ranchhands, too. And you, despite your disrespect, dare to complain?!”

“No, sir. I will do my best, sir,” Link managed to say, before placing the letter into his pockets and walking over to a goat near Midna.

“Good. And remember, herd the goats back! Only you and Epona! I know you want to help him, Midna, but he needs to learn!” Fadel called as he walked towards the barn, probably to start refilling the goats’ feeders.

Link placed the buckets down next to a grazing goat, then walked over to Midna. She looked up at him, finally allowing a smug look to cross over her face. “Man, it was so hard to not burst out laughing at your kicked puppy face… wait, what are you doing?”

He peered down into the bucket of goat milk she was currently adding more to. The milk she was drizzling into the bucket broke the surface like it should, and the ripples looked normal, but something about it just didn’t sit right with Link. He pointed his index finger at the collected milk, and placed his middle and thumb together to snap.

Midna leapt up, alarm sweeping across her features. She tried to grab Link’s outstretched hand, but it was too late. “Wait, no, it’s not what it looks—”

A bolt of orange and black lightning shot out from his hand, impacting the milk bucket. All that was left was a thin layer of milk, barely a centimetre above the bottom.

“Should’ve worked on how strong my illusions are, not just how realistic they are…” Midna mumbled, stretching her arms to slightly relieve her exhaustion from magic use.

“Seriously? You didn’t warp us out of Palace City… for this? I’m going to permanently remove that smug look you had when Fadel hears about this.” Link turned to walk towards the barn, but a hand clamped itself around his wrist to keep him in place.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Midna cried out. “Tell you what. I’ll do half of your second bucket. Just don’t tell him.”

Contemplating her offer, Link placed a hand on his chin. “Help me with herding the goats back, and it’s a deal.” He placed a hand in front of Midna.

“But he said—”

“Shadowdive, and scare them.”

Midna thought about it for a second, then grasped her friend’s hand to shake it. “Deal.”

✦ ✦

“Why’d it take you so long to get here?” Midna asked. She placed a full pail of milk down by the ranch’s perimeter, and went to pick up Link’s empty second bucket while he nearly completed his first. “I mean, I know I warped here, but at your speed you should’ve been here faster.”

“Toran held me up. Said I needed to run an errand tomorrow, wants me to deliver Rosso’s latest sword to the Royal Family,” Link said, as he continued to coax the goat he was sat by to let more of its milk out.

Midna’s face clenched up, her gaze suddenly hard as steel. “Those pieces of shit? How much more do they want? Our taxes, our food, our fucking people? They handle the Depression and the — the fucking Blight,” she spat that word as if it was poison burning her tongue, “like absolute shit and they want us to put even more slobber on their clean, shiny, probably slave-made, diamond-studded boots? Did you agree to it?”

Link thought hard before he chose the next words that left his mouth. While he wasn’t exactly a fan of the Royal Family, hate was barely strong enough of a word to describe how Midna felt about them. He really didn’t want to make her any more angry than she already was.

“Yes,” was the only word he managed to get out.

A visceral sound of disgust was the only response he got.

“Mids, come on. I know you hate the Royals—”

“That’s an understatement.”

A wicked thought suddenly entered Link’s head. He picked up his now full bucket, walked over to Midna, and dumped half of the milk into hers before moving onto another goat to refill his. “Let’s look on the bright side. Tomorrow, we’re going inside the Palace of Twilight. With full permission, to hand a tribute to the Royals, in the flesh. Mids, we’re entering the dragons’ den. And those dragons have too many shiny diamonds around their necks.”

Midna grinned at the idea, before it turned into a frown. “Wait, we? I thought you said Toran only let you go.”

“So? Not like it’s set in stone. I’ll talk him into letting you come with me. Besides, you can always —”

“Shadowdive.”

“Shadowdive,” he smiled at how in sync they were.

He reached out to pat her on the back. “Come on, Mids. Let’s pick up the pace. We’ve got goats to herd and Royals to rob.”

✦ ✦

The last of the goat milk was poured into glass bottles, and Link sealed the crate holding them. The shipments of Ordon milk were to be brought alongside the tribute sword, plus some sacks of Ordon pumpkins, all to be handled by his shadow storage.

Dusting off his hands, Link stood up and walked outside the barn, looking up at the sky. The orange and purples grew deeper, and the signature dark clouds of the Twilight Realm were beginning to take shape, as the occupants of the Sol Towers prepared to go to sleep.

A glance at the goats milling around reminded him of his other task. Unfortunately, in his rush, he forgot Epona. “Mids, sorry about this, but can you herd some goats in, in the meantime? I need to get—”

“No need.” Midna put her fingers in her mouth and whistled out a soothing song.

‘Epona’s Song’ was an old tune taught to Midna by her mother. During their childhood, her mother would sing the notes aloud, while Link and Midna would try their best to follow along. When that serene song sounded through the grassy fields, it could calm down even the most enraged of horses, and would drift a small Midna to sleep in her mother’s arms.

Nowadays, it’s main purpose was to —

“WOAH! Big Brother! Auntie Midna! You gotta help me and Sir Cucco! Epona just started running!”

— call over Link’s beloved chestnut brown horse, sometimes complete with a blonde-haired child and pudgy white bird as unwilling passengers. Link and Epona nearly grew up side-by-side; the boy had found the horse, alone, when he decided to explore outside the ruins of the defunct Mirror Terminal. Link, in his childlike curiosity, struggled to clamber atop the then foal, who then somehow knew the exact path to Ordon Village. Link almost named her something dumb, like Lady Neighs-A-Lot, but fortunately for Epona, Midna took the reins and named her after the horse the Hero-King of Twilight and the Queen of Light had battled the Great King of Evil with.

A breathless Aryll descended from Epona’s saddle somewhat gracefully, and ran up to the two ranchhands, cucco still in her arms. “Hey, hey! I know what you two were doing! Could I please get a bottle of milk to drink? Pretty please?”

Link’s refusal made her turn to the Twili woman. “Auntie Midna, I know —”

“Not a chance, kid. I already gave you half of my cinnamon roll, remember?” Midna knelt down to come face to face with the little girl, and said with a smile that was a mix of a tease and mock fury, “And don’t think I forgot what you did to my beautiful locks.”

Link struggled not to smile as he tried to wipe the memory out of his head as to why Midna’s hair was so short and choppy. One day, she had made the mistake of letting his little sister practice hairdressing… using her own back-length hair. The ten year old, obviously not knowing how to properly style hair, had sheared the entire length to Midna’s neck. Fortunately for the Twili whose head was suddenly a lot lighter, Ardin knew a thing or two and managed to salvage what was left.

A quick peck from Sir Cucco to Midna’s forehead brought him out of the memory. “YOU FAT PIECE OF POULTRY! I’LL TURN YOU INTO A NAYRU’S DAY FEAST!”

“Waaah! Don’t fight! Sir Cucco’s just very protective!”

As the pair continued their antics, Link strode over to his beloved horse, brushing her snow white mane with his hands before rubbing at her black snout. He clambered atop Epona’s saddle and grabbed the reins, albeit with a little difficulty — she did care for Link, but Epona held more affection for the Twili woman who could whistle and sing her song. Link, unfortunately, was not so gifted in the musical arts and his terrible renditions of ‘Epona’s Song’ were probably just an insult to his steed.

“Mids! Hurry up! We don’t want to spend all day out here!” he called to the woman still having a squabble with a bird one-tenth her size.

She stood up, gave another ruffle to Aryll’s hair, and prepared to dive in the shadows of the setting Sols.

✦ ✦

The goats returned to their pen, persuaded by Epona, her rider, and a madwoman leaping out of the goats’ shadows like a swamp monster. Link tied up Epona to the makeshift stable outside his home and gave her a piece of Ordon pumpkin, before wiping his boots on the straw mat just outside his front door.

He turned the knob to his humble abode, taking in the fresh smell of the Ordon wood that made up its walls and furniture. Specks of dust danced in the light of lanterns made of goat horn and cracked glass, and he could hear the sound of something… bubbling?

He turned into his quaint kitchen, to see a blonde child sitting down at a weathered beige table, flipping through a picture book with a seagull on its front cover. Near the open window, a Twili woman stood, her orange hair tied back with a rubber band. Her cloak was thrown over one of the chairs at the table, replaced with a checkered green and white apron. She was standing next to a cast-iron stove, the flame inside roaring, and a filled pot on its surface. One of her hands was held firmly around a ladle stirring the pot, and the other absentmindedly rubbed at the scales on her nape.

“Welcome back, Big Brother!”

“Hey, mutt. Just heating some pumpkin and fish stew I had lying around. Help set the table for me and Aryll.”

“You’re staying over to cook tonight? Using your own food? You’re too kind, Mids,” Link teased.

“Shut up! I’m only doing this because first of all, your cooking is straight-up bizarre, and I’m not letting Aryll die. Second of all, I’m only here because she begged me to!”

With a smile on his face, Link walked over to the shelves to grab some bowls and cutlery to set on the table.

The three of them enjoyed a simple, filling dinner, of pumpkin and fish stew and some sliced apples as a dessert, while Link recounted his adventure a few hours back to his little sister, embellished in places of course.

Midna wouldn’t have that. “Hey Aryll, today I learned what your brother’s new favourite food is!” She snapped her fingers, summoning a brick from her storage to place on the table for all of them to see.

Link covered his face with his hands to prevent Aryll from seeing his quickly reddening face. “Mids, that was a one time mistake. Please…”

“Is that a bite mark, Big Brother?!”

✦ ✦

Once the two of them managed to wrangle an overly energetic Aryll and a feisty Sir Cucco to bed, they shut the door to the siblings’ shared bedroom — divided by a cloth room divider across the middle — and turned back to Link’s living room.

Midna wrapped her favourite robe back on around her shoulders before taking a seat on a bench surrounding a small wooden table atop an old rug.

Link, instead, walked over to one of many hand-carved wooden shelves placed against the wall of his house, and grabbed a large sheet of paper, and two pencils. He set them down on the table, tossing one pencil to Midna who caught it in midair using levitation magic.

“So, Mr. Shadow Thief,” she asked. “What’s the plan?”

Chapter Text

It was too goddess-damned dark. And too goddess-damned wet.

Her lungs felt like they were on the verge of collapsing from holding in a breath too long, and as she tried to take a deep breath in, the only substance that entered her mouth was liquid, not gaseous.

A panicked raise of her head threatened to throw off her beloved robe she wore nearly every second of every day, and the waterlogged fabric released its cargo, drenching the young woman even further.

Wiping her face to rid it of water, Midna cracked open her eyes to take in a realm of ankle-deep water. Purple reflected off of the perfectly polished mirror that was the water’s surface.

Black peaks rose over the horizon, so distant she wouldn’t reach them if she walked for a lifetime, and so dark not a single feature could be seen other than their silhouette. The sky was the strangest part of this realm. The gradient of weak orange and deep purple did not comfort her in the slightest. Her skin covered itself in cuccobumps, a reflexive reaction to the mockery of her homeland’s skies.

The orange glow of the twilight came from a single source — a huge, orange Sol suspended in the sky, unassisted by a Sol Tower, as if a puppet on strings. Its Twilit patterns flickered between a repulsive shade of red and the normal calm turquoise. Worst of all, the Sol was half-eclipsed by a pitch-black circle and orange wisps shot out of the other half like thrashing limbs drowning in endless purple.

The rustling of leaves in the wind drew Midna’s attention. Strange, as the air in the watery world she knelt in was completely still, as if Farore’s winds themselves were choked out by the strange pressure she felt.

In the middle of the waters, if one can even pinpoint a middle, rested a small island of lush green grass, and a brown tree whose green foliage continued to sway unassisted.

Midna struggled to stand — whether from the unexplainable pressure in the air, or fatigue, she did not know. As soon as she did, a soundless rumbling threatened to knock her back down, and she watched helplessly as the island ascended into the heavens, not leaving behind even a single clump of dirt.

The waves from the sudden flight of land knocked her flat on her rear, and water splashed into her face. Wiping her eyes once more, she saw a figure standing where the island had been, staring up into the sky in longing.

The figure turned, slowly, to face her.

No. Not longing.

Midna’s veins turned to ice. It was too cold, too dark, too wet. Her vision danced with spots and her lungs refused to cooperate, as the figure, clad in carved dark stone armour, despite its covered face looked at her through its horned helmet with nothing more than searing hatred.

Midna started with a gasp. Her heart was pounding, and she grasped at her throat as she tried to take in air to calm herself from the nightmare. The slight resistance against her limbs made her take notice of the two-dimensional black squares floating upwards in the liquid substance she was suspended in.

A jolt of panic crossed her body, until she turned her gaze skywards to see the calming Sol-lit twilit skies of Twilaea, half of it blocked by a brown horse. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves before moving her intangible body through the horse’s shadow into the one on its saddle cast by its rider.

“I’m bored out of my mind. Can’t this line go any faster?” she asked groggily, popping her head out into the air.

“Mids, you’ve been asking that non-stop for the past hour. Be patient,” the rider responded.

Inside Palace City’s central square, they were in a line waiting at a checkpoint keeping them out of the Palace of Twilight. The long queue of merchants, visitors, their cargo, and horses, wrapped around the huge grey stone fountain that took up much of the space.

Usually, entrance to the Palace didn’t take this frustratingly long — at least that’s what she heard — but today, the guards around the checkpoint were stretched thin, even more than they already were. The reason?

“No more talk, no more lies! Fair wages under Sol-lit skies!”

“Hey hey, ho ho! Royal greed has got to go!”

“Royal promises are all fake! They won’t let us eat a cake!”

A picket of workers from around Palace City were on strike, standing away against a column of Royal Guards blocking them from stampeding into the Palace of Twilight itself. Signs held by the disgruntled labourers read their demands, such as repealing the latest tax break for the wealthy, or lowered food costs, but the majority of them demanded wages they could live on. A few other signs displayed anti-Royal epithets; ‘Fuck the King’ was one Midna greatly sympathized with.

“What do you think they’ll achieve?” Link asked sincerely.

“The same as they always do,” Midna replied pessimistically. “Fuck all.”

In the past, Midna had gone to a few protests and strikes, and marched alongside them. She certainly understood their struggles, but she had grown indifferent over time. Protests against the government occurred constantly after the Depression, especially after — goddesses, she absolutely hated even thinking about it — the Blight, but it was all just a giant waste of time and effort. Taxes were still high, wages were still low, and food was still ridiculously expensive. The only reason Midna wasn’t still poking around in trashcans was because Ordon could afford to feed its people with its own crops, despite everything.

And because stealing from the rich was a lot more dignified.

Turning away from the striking workers, Midna looked down into the fountain’s waters, promising herself that if they ever had the time, she and Link would go scooping out every stray rupee thrown into it. Her gaze moved upwards to look at what made this fountain such a famous attraction: the three figures standing on a stone pedestal in the fountain’s centre, the water at their feet flowing over back into the bottom.

The first was a large wolf, carved into stone, with its head turned downwards in a snarl, but eyes looking straight ahead. Carved into its forehead were peculiar symbols, and a stone shackle and chain was secured around its left foreleg.

Behind it were two humanoid figures: one, a stone Hylian man posed as if about to lunge, wearing a tunic on top of chainmail. A long pointed cap held his long messy hair in place, which almost covered the wolf’s markings carved on his forehead. In his right hand held a kite-shaped shield, embellished with Hylian symbols such as the Triforce: three triangles shaped into a larger triangle. In his left, he held a long sword with a rhombus-shaped gem in its winged crossguard, and a widened section of the blade was etched with the Triforce.

The other was a Twili woman, her left hand about to snap, pointed in the direction the Hylian was lunging in. Carved into her arms were numerous long snaking Twilit glyphs, vastly outscaling Midna’s own. She wore a patterned robe with its hood down, except unlike Midna’s, hers was longer and reached down to her ankles instead of her waist. An intricate headpiece atop her head kept her hair in place, attached to a piece of jewellry set in a snaking pattern on her forehead. The two sides of her long straight hair flowed around her neck before being tied together by a stone bangle on her chest, just in front of a tunic with thin armour underneath.

Midna recalled seeing the fountain, named ‘The Sacred Beast, Twilight Hero, and Warrior Princess’ for the first time on one of her school’s field trips, and being taught about its history. It was made not too long after the coronation of the Queen of a New Dawn, initially titled ‘The Sacred Beast and Imp Mage, Twilight Hero and Warrior Princess.’ Apparently, the artist had originally carved a depiction of a small imp atop the wolf, which had caused the Queen to fly into a frenzy and destroy the stone imp with her magic, much to the artist’s horror and the Hero (not yet the Hero-King) of Twilight’s amusement.

With a grin on her face, Midna pushed the top half of her body out of the shadows to poke at Link. “Look, mutt, it’s you!” she snickered, hand pointed at the Sacred Beast.

“Exactly. Because I’m the cool wolf form of the Hero-King. You’re that dinky imp that’s supposed to be there. You’re so ugly the Queen wanted your statue gone.”

Midna gasped in mock offence. “No way, I’m the Queen! Look how beautiful and powerful she is, that’s definitely me.”

“Right, and I’m actually Her Grace, O Radiant Solara,” he said sarcastically. “You? The Queen of a New Dawn? The Queen was super elegant and kind-hearted. No way was she a snarky unrefined imp like you.”

As the two continued bantering, Midna thought about the then Queen. Her and her husband’s story was so legendary it inspired countless works to this day centuries after their rule, but Midna never seemed to like her namesake much. She believed parts of her story were made up to make her look better — she defeated a dragon in a city in the sky? Really? — and besides, the Queen was a Royal. Born into the highest privileges in Twilaea, everything handed to her on a silver platter. How does that teach duty and devotion to her people? No wonder the Usurper King took her throne so easily — she was probably a shitty princess.

“If only we were royalty. Then we could get out of this goddess-forsaken line,” Link said.

Midna didn’t respond, as something else had caught her eye. One daring striker was making his move towards the formation of guards, much closer than his fellow workers. He shouted something, inaudible over the others’ chants, wound back his wooden sign over his shoulders, and swung it at one of the guards.

All hell broke loose as the sharp bangs and flashes of deku nuts and dazzlefruits drowned out the panicked shouts, and the grey smoke of puffshrooms breaking against the stone covered the central square. Screams, yells, and the harsh crackling of Twilit lightning bolts sounded through the air.

Then the world went black.

The shift of lighting — or lack thereof — was so sudden it was like someone had just put a blindfold around her head. Luckily, Midna’s Twili blood allowed her to quickly adjust to the abrupt darkness, so she didn’t panic.

The same could not be said for everybody — or every-equine — else.

Despite being bred for the low light of Twilaea, such a sudden change in light caused the horses to neigh and buck wildly, throwing passengers and cargo around. Cries, neighs, and crashes added to the pandemonium of clashing guards and workers.

Before Epona could do the same, Midna leapt out of Link’s shadow, and whistled ‘Epona’s Song.’ She felt the horse calm down, no longer threatening to crack Link’s head open on the pavement.

“What in Din’s name is going on?!” Link cried, his half-Hylian ancestry doing him no favours for his night vision, as he desperately blinked and looked around to regain his lost sense of sight.

Midna placed her hands on Link’s shoulders. “Hey, hey, chill out! Don’t get Epona riled up again!”

A few more blinks and Link started breathing normally once more, his eyes meeting Midna’s. He nodded at her, before turning back around to stroke Epona’s mane. “Shhh, it’s alright, girl,” he cooed.

Looking upwards, Midna paused. The faded twilit skies of noon, always whitened by the light of the many Sols situated around the kingdom, had their shades displayed in full, the mosaic of deep oranges and purples a bizarre sight so early in the day. Dark clouds that appeared only at night had invaded the sky as if they had broken a peace treaty with the light of the Sols.

With the light of the Sols…?

Midna swerved her gaze to the nearest Sol Tower, then another, then another. All them were midnight black, not a single ray of white light emitting from their spherical bodies. Not a single one of Solara’s children were left untouched — the engravings on their bodies couldn’t be seen.

Like a mother grieving for her dead sons, or a monster howling in delight as they tore apart their prey, an inhuman wail rang out through every alleyway, every side street, every crack in the ground, until they reached the very sensitive pointed ears of one orange-haired Twili.

The sound forced her off Epona, and pieces of her shadowskin arm coverings broke off and dissolved into the darkness as she tumbled across the pavement. Her hands flew to her ears to block the horrific noise.

Link managed to pull his hands from his ears to dismount Epona and ran over to lend her a hand. “Mids!” he yelled, as if the two of them had gone deaf, “Are you alright?”

“What the fuck was that?!”

“I… have no clue.” He stepped over a puddle of water that had spilled from one of the other merchants’ cargo, tinted purple by the dark twilit skies above, and raised Midna to her feet.

A flicker of light turned their sights back upwards. The night clouds retreated once the Sols, slowly flickering as if they were nothing more than blown out candles to be relit, came back to life to deliver Solara’s radiance again.

In the central square, the smoke had dissipated, giving a clear view of the situation. The fountain continued flowing as it always had, although it had a few extra stumbling bodies in the water. Goods of all shapes, sizes, and states of matter were strewn about over the stone pavement, and a few horses who had managed to calm down stood about. The strikers had used the blackout to disperse, and the guards were utterly baffled by the whole incident, hesitating to assist the people in the square.

Link shook his head at the sight, before he jumped back on Epona and grabbed her reins.

He gave Midna a lopsided smile. “There’s no more line, at least?”

✦ ✦

A quick exchange of a letter, a patdown and search of his shadow storage, and the leading away of multiple crates and an unhappy mare was what it took to finally reach the Palace of Twilight. A gargantuan stairway, floating above the orange glow of Twilaea’s skies — or rather the infinite void below him — greeted Link once he and two heavily armoured Palace Guards escorting him crossed the huge gates behind him. At least it has railings.

After passing the suspended steps, he and his entourage stepped forward into a huge courtyard, where trimmed teal flower bushes grew over cut grass. Long strips of black stone flanked a pathway, inlaid with glowing turquoise Twilit sigils to illuminate the path to the front steps of the Palace.

The guards flanking Link lead him past the front steps and into the gigantic doorless entrance of the Palace. Only one problem remained — the boundary between the foyer and courtyard of the Palace was drawn in a glowing line constructed out of luminous stone, which would cut his shadow clean in two as he crossed and reveal his passenger to his guards.

Fortunately for the shadow thieves, this was only Step One of their master plan.

Link scuffed a boot against the stone floor, tripping himself intentionally. He twisted his weight to collide into the guard on his left, letting the momentum knock the heavily armoured man past the line. In one smooth motion, as Link’s falling body followed his warden’s, he pulled off his cloak and let it fall over the luminous stone line.

Midna hit the cloak with her magic to open it like a tarp, then leapt from the shadow of the standing guard over the line, underneath the cloak with the grace of a swimming Zora, into the shadow of the pair of bodies who just hit the ground.

“Learn how to walk, peasant,” the fallen guard sneered as he stood back up, not bothering to give Link a hand.

“By the Sols’ light, idiots like these make you want a shift at the Banishment Grounds instead, huh?”

The guard scoffed. “Yeah, if I ever wanted to stand around being turned into a block of ice.”

Link ignored the guards and put his fallen cloak back into his hands. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled sheepishly as he rose, throwing the garment back over his shoulders. A small zap to his boots from the ground let him know his partner-in-crime had made it.

Dusting his cloak, he entered the massive atrium. The floor and walls, coloured a space blue, were covered in glowing Twilit glyphs. Sol-like spherical lights hung from the ceiling, giving the room a soft white glow.

Link took in the sight, knowing full well in just a few minutes he would never be allowed in these grand chambers ever again.

His guards directed him to an open room on the left, where dark orbs surrounded indents in the floor. They stepped onto the indent, and after one of the guards tapped an orb, it lit up white to reveal a transparent platform engraved with glowing sigils. The platform lifted the three men (and one hidden passenger) into the air — No handrails! — and after a minute or so, let them into another open room. They crossed a hallway to open a door leading to a huge balcony.

Link was in awe as he peered over the railings, taking in the view. The twilit void extended for miles around the floating Palace, with the next landmass far in the distance. He didn’t get much time to sightsee as his guards pushed him past a huge waterfall crashing down the side of the Palace walls to a grand arch. A pair of Twilit-symbolled black stone doors opened up before him.

The Palace Guards surrounding Link let him go, taking their leave and going back into the hallway they had just left. Another luminous stone line separated the outside balcony and the throne room, as expected. Step Two was that Midna would separate himself from his shadow and hide in one of the many cast by the Palace walls outside the throne room. Her shadow storage contained a hefty sum of deku nuts and dazzlefruits to throw into the chamber and stun the occupants, at which point she would grab a Link who had the foresight to cover his eyes, and use her magical talent to break past the Palace’s anti-warping field. That was Step Four.

Link’s breath grew heavy, and his heart started hammering against his chest after a squelch at the bottom of his boots gave him the signal. The glyphs laid into the floor glowed with every step he took further into the throne room, and the golden statues lining the chamber seemed to be judging his every movement. His fingers twitched, and it took much of his willpower to not nervously grasp the leather-wrapped goat horn hilt of the sword strapped to his back, lest the Palace Guard take that as a threat.

He breathed slowly, in and out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a guard standing at attention smirk at his obvious anxiety. He walked towards the back of the throne room, and stopped at the steps leading up to the throne. A Twilit mural stretched across the wall’s length, and came together in the middle as small thin lines perpendicular to a large circle it bordered, like rays of light. A smaller circle rested within the larger one complete with a large dot in its centre — the entirety of Solara’s crest. Below were two thrones, both occupied.

On the left, an old Twili man sat, where a golden crown embedded with rubies lay atop his faded red hair. He wore a long baggy black robe, embroidered with Solara’s sign on his chest and turquoise sigils upon the tasselled sleeves.

On the right, an equally old Twili woman sat, where a golden headdress adorned with sapphires wrapped around her silver hair. She also wore a black robe, with an apron sash below her waist also embellished with Solara’s sign and Twilit glyphs.

Not much jewellery worth the risk, Link thought grimly. He dropped to one knee, and laid his right hand over his chest. “Your Majesties, King Yasir and Queen Twyla of Twilaea,” he bowed.

The King of Twilight’s crimson glare fixed on him. “Are you blind, boy? Address the princess!”

His rough voice made Link grimace, and he turned his head up to the throne once more. He focused his sight left of the King’s throne to locate the woman he had somehow failed to see.

There, was a young Twili woman, a couple of years his senior. Her piercing red eyes were fixed on him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Sky blue hair fell around her shoulders, draping around stone grey pauldrons secured to a flowing navy blue dress cut at the collarbones. An apron sash patterned like her mother’s was affixed to her dress below the waist. It was no wonder he had somehow failed to take notice of her — her clothes blended with the wall!

Unlike the King and Queen of Twilight, the Princess of Twilight did not partake in parades often, owing much of that to the wheelchair she was bound to and the ridiculous floating staircase leading to and from the Palace. As a result, the young woman was hardly seen, more suited to be an exotic caged bird for visitors to the throne to gawk at.

And gawk at, he did. Her neckline was covered in silver, and diamonds lined nearly every nook and cranny of the neckpiece. Laid atop her head was a tiara of similar shining diamonds, a particularly large one enshrined front and centre.

Jackpot.

As he bowed his head once more, he only hoped she hadn’t noticed the hungry look that flashed in his eyes. “My sincerest apologies, Your Highness, Princess Oriana of Twilaea.”

“You are most certainly forgiven… I apologize, I do not believe you have introduced yourself?” the Princess replied in a neutral tone.

“Link Vicalisin Vesper of Ordon Village, Your High—”

“Ha! So the boy is not only blind, but a country bumpkin too!” King Yasir roared in snide laughter. “Tell me, Ordonian, can you read and write?”

Link glanced at the Queen before responding. Her red eyes looked as if they were staring right past him, as if he was completely invisible, with a serene, aloof smile on her face. He gritted his teeth. “Yes, Your Majesty. I have been taught to do so by my—”

“Good, good!” the King dismissed his answer with a wave of his hand. “Now, then, boy. The delivery of goat milk and pumpkins is a decent gift. It will humble our nobles for them to be in touch with the commoners. But I believe my guards told me of something else to be given as tribute?”

This time, Link bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to show any sign of annoyance in front of the throne, to bide his time. At least Midna wasn’t the one kneeling in his stead. She would’ve fried them to a crisp five minutes ago and been sentenced to death on the spot. He rose, bowed, and unsheathed Rosso’s finest sword. He laid the blade across both his outstretched arms, and turned his head to the floor.

King Yasir walked down to him and took the sword out of Link’s hands, before giving it a few practice swings. “Yes, it appears well-made, very sharp. Acceptable.”

Link drew in a breath.

“Although, dare I say, the odour, it smells like—”

Link exhaled. Time for Step Three.

He pointed one hand behind him at the ground and one hand at the sword. Immediately, he snapped his fingers, shutting his eyes before bolts of orange and black lightning shot from his hands to strike the blade and the floor behind him simultaneously. The explosive bang, an annoying ringing, and the distressed cries of a King, Queen, Princess, and many Palace Guards, were music to his ears.

Step Three was that the blade, kept in a scabbard filled with dazzlefruit juice, would be coated in it once presented to the King. Midna would cover his boots in the juice before entering, tracking a huge amount of highly volatile liquid that, when struck, would result in a blinding flash of light and an incredibly disorienting sound. Step Three-point-five was that he would throw deku nuts smuggled in through Midna’s shadow storage at the Royals, to buy him more time while he grabbed all that he could.

While he heard Step Four erupting in flashes and bangs behind him, he grabbed the blade out of the King’s hands before dashing towards Princess Oriana to grab her tiara and neckpiece, the latter taking some more force and eliciting a startled yelp from the Princess.

A quick snap of his fingers turned them into shadows. He leapt down the steps to the throne and sprinted at full speed towards the exit. The stunned Palace Guard should still be stumbling around blindly, giving him a clear shot at freedom and a handful of diamonds.

At least, that’s how it should’ve been.

“KILL HIM!” the King roared.

The Guards recovered way too fast for how many stunning nuts and fruits were thrown in their direction, and Link had no dreams of getting speared through the heart in this chamber of decadence.

He came face to face with one Palace Guard, who attempted to stab straight at him, black lightning sparking off the spearhead. The more intricate weapons of the Palace Guard allowed them to channel magic straight through their weapons like a catalyst. A non-issue, because it was the guard’s lucky day to gain first-hand experience of the techniques of a Gerudo-trained shadow thief. Link swiftly moved to the side, his feet light and swift, shifting like sand in the wind. Closing in, he stopped the subsequent swing by cleaving the shaft in two from below, before quickly shifting the Ordon sword into a reverse grip to use the pommel as a battering ram on the guard’s exposed chin.

Another guard tried to spear his back, but he quickly moved his body to the side. Link grabbed the spear’s shaft to pull his attacker in, but the guard had not put his whole weight into the attack and only slightly stumbled. Twirling around, Link delivered a sharp kick to the guard’s privates — he was not a knight of honour — but he expected the guard to stumble further and his boot collided ineffectively into the guard’s metal armour.

Link had no space to dodge the counter, and he staggered backwards when a left hook impacted his ribs. The gambeson he wore underneath his tunic absorbed most of the punch, giving him enough time to recover and dodge the followup stab.

That stab was a feint, one which Link fell for, and the sharp spearhead cut straight through his padded armour to draw blood. His body nearly toppled over as he seized from the spear’s lightning connecting directly with his newly exposed nerves. Before the guard could follow through, tendrils of black and orange held his opponent in place. A similarly-coloured ball of snaking lightning bolts slamming into the guard’s back took down one more.

“Midna! Don’t! Take these and go!” Link reformed the diamond jewellry and threw them at his partner-in-crime.

Her expression grew ever tenser, as if weighing her options, and settled on leaping back into the shadows in order to flee, snaring multiple guards and dodging multiple spears aimed at her position in the process. Black squares interlaced with teal lines began to spiral into the air as Midna chipped away at the anti-warping field, slowly weaving a portal to freedom.

The closing of the second front made escape near impossible. Too many guards stood in the way. Link had to get reckless if he was to make it out alive.

He parried an upwards swing, barely weaving through the flurry of stabs and shadow balls to close in on his opponent, who he struck with his hilt to down another assailant. Regaining his confidence, he ran towards the open doorway. A quick sidestep prevented another wound, but Link made the mistake of tunnel-visioning on his escape. Pain erupted through his leg as a spearhead hit its mark, forcing him to the ground, but he brought his blade back up to prepare a counter.

That counter would never come. An enormous sphere of Twilit magic slammed dead centre into his back. Every single one of his nerves felt like they had been lit on fire and his limbs shook wildly against his will. Black clouds obscured his vision at the same moment his head collided with the floor.

Slow, heavy footfalls echoed throughout the throne room. Link could feel every vibration in the floor as his attacker marched towards him. They grabbed his hair and yanked him upwards unceremoniously.

“Well, country boy. You certainly have courage. But courage is too easily mistaken for foolishness. I am the King,” the Royal hissed behind him. “Peasants like you could not possibly harm me.”

Wide open. In a flash, Link crushed a final deku nut in his hands, causing the King to cry out and cover his eyes, releasing Link’s hair in the process. A punch to the King’s head gave him ample opportunity to flee, but his injuries caused him to stumble back down to the floor, black shapes dancing in his sight once more.

The humming sound of a Twilight Portal filled the air, and Midna, along with the stolen jewellry, broke into hundreds of black squares. Her words of “I’ll come back for you! I promise!” faded into the swirling turquoise hole in the air, before it too dissolved into nothingness.

The last thing that left Link’s mouth was a sigh of relief as a golden shoe stomped on his head with a roar of anger.

✦ ✦

He tried to pry open his eyelids, but the darkness made it difficult for Link to adjust to his new surroundings. That, and the sharp pain to his head forced his eyes shut once more. Regardless, he still had four working limbs, so he pushed himself upwards from his sprawled out position — make that three working limbs, as a searing pain in his leg forced him onto his rear. He tried to grasp at the wound, but something hard held his hands from moving far.

Despite his splitting headache, he opened his eyes to see that his wrists were held by luminous stone shackles, connected to the dungeon wall by iron chains. Dungeon wall? Blinking, he saw that he was in a filthy room of rough stone, with the only outside view blocked by iron bars. It wasn’t like it was a good view, either — only a walkway of more stone bricks next to a canal of murky brown water met his eyes.

Link shivered from the cold as he realized that he had been stripped of his usual clothes, leaving him in nothing but a ragged shirt and pants. At least his captors bound his wounded leg in bandages. A snap of his fingers revealed that the contents of his shadow storage had been confiscated as well. He sat down and leaned his back against the cold wall to relieve his headache.

Metal clanged against stone as a Palace Guard walked into the view of his cell. “Given up, rat?” the man sneered.

Link didn’t respond; his thoughts were focused on how he would escape this unpleasant place. He couldn’t shadowdive — not that he was any good at it anyway — because of the luminous stone shackles. His already feeble magic would be near useless, and he could barely walk. While Midna had promised to come back for him, he hoped she would at least take the time to pawn off the diamonds and take a rest before doing so.

And then a great sphere of Twilit lightning slammed straight into the guard, incapacitating him on impact. A loud metallic clang echoed through the damp hallway as his unconscious body unceremoniously crashed into the stone floor.

“I found you!” was all his saviour said as she strolled into view, her crimson and cerulean eyes glinting with mischief above a scarf wrapped around her face. “Wow, look at you. You really are a fleabag.”

Link just sighed. “Mids, please. How did you even find me? And why didn’t you rest before coming back?”

Midna clicked her tongue impatiently as she picked up the fallen guard’s keys and unlocked the cell door. “It’s because I promised I’d come back for you, and since when has the beautiful Midna ever broken a promise?” She knelt down and picked the locks of his shackles. As they clicked open, she hissed, “It’s also because I heard you were going to be executed tomorrow.”

Link ran over her words as he rubbed the red marks on his wrists where the shackles had been. “Huh,” was the only thing he said after the considerable pause.

Midna looked at him like he had grown two heads. “Either you’ve gone completely deaf, or you are far too nonchalant about being this close to getting killed.”

He shook his head. “No, I heard you alright. I understood that risk when we planned this. But I still went through with it for everyone in Ordon.”

“Wow, look at Mr. Important Hero over here,” Midna scoffed, handing him a bottle filled with red liquid. Walking back outside the cell, she stretched her arms, shaking off her magic fatigue. “The problem is, your heroic mindset,” she said in a mocking tone, “won’t save you from a treason charge. So we gotta get out of here before we, y’know.” She dragged a thumb over her neck.

Drinking the Red Potion did wonders for his pain; his head no longer hurt, and the burning in his leg subsided to a dull ache. Limping out of the dirty cell caused his nose to be hit with a putrid scent. “Oh goddesses, what is that?”

“Yeah… we’re in the dungeons-slash-sewer system of the Palace, so…” she gestured to the murky canal, her eyebrows furrowed in disgust. She then snapped her fingers to materialize his clothing onto the floor.

“Could’ve at least put them into my hands,” he grumbled as he picked them up. He stared at her for a moment. “Well? Can a man get some privacy around here?”

“Why? There’s not much to look at,” she giggled, before turning around.

Deciding not to humour her with a response, he quickly changed out of his rags back into his familiar trousers, boots, tunic, and cloak. He pulled the cloak up to cover his nose from the ungodly stench. Given how tightly Midna wrapped her scarf around her face, it was probably ten times worse for her sensitive nose.

As the two walked through the dungeon-slash-sewer, Link couldn’t help but notice that his skin was raised in cuccobumps, but nothing warranted the reflex. What’s more, the air was difficult to breathe, partly due to the terrible smell, but also because it felt heavy, as if the very particles of the air were shackled. “Mids, do you feel that? Even for a dungeon, it doesn’t feel right…”

“Well yeah, dumbass, maybe it’s because you were this close to getting paraded in the streets and getting your head chopped off?” Despite her comment, he noticed that she shivered slightly, even though the two of them were dressed appropriately.

After a while of walking past suspiciously empty prison cells, the two of them came to a wall of iron bars blocking their way. The only way past was an opening under the surface of the sewer water.

Midna leapt in the shadows and popped out onto the other side. “Your turn, mutt!”

Link gaped at her. “No way, you know I suck at—”

“Well,” she pointed to the disgusting waters below them, “If you want to take a dip, be my guest.”

Steeling himself, Link dove into the shadows. Midna always described it as if she was diving into clouds. What Link always felt was the sensation of tar that ate away at his breath. He could barely open his eyes from how thick the liquid shadows were, and struggled to move his limbs to propel himself forwards. He was only in there for a few seconds, but it felt like ages. Breaching the surface was like trying to push his head through clay. He sputtered and gasped for air on the hard stone floor, wounded leg aching terribly from the effort.

His partner lifted him to his feet and pat him hard on the back to help clear his lungs, despite the fact that the liquid shadows could not exist above ground. “Damn. I always forget it’s that bad for you.”

“No one,” he coughed, “No one has the talent you do for this kinda thing.”

The two continued moving, until they reached a crossroads.

“Which way do we—”

“Shut up for a second!” Midna clamped a hand over Link’s mouth and pulled him close to the wall.

Dangerously near, a number of the Palace Guard ran through the intersection. Yells, crackles of Twilit magic, and clangs of spears echoed throughout the damp corridors, in addition to… hisses?

“Do not falter, men!” one guard yelled.

“What the fuck is up with these creatures? They aren’t usually — this — aggressive!” another heaved, through stabs of his spear.

Midna and Link peered around the corner to see a bizarre sight. Heavily armoured guards were locked in combat against a group of gigantic, Twilit… rats. It was almost comedic to see the Palace Guard struggle with oversized rodents. At least until two of the rats fought with terrifying combat intelligence. The typical teal markings on their bodies shifted to red as one grabbed onto a guard’s unarmoured back of the knee and bit, forcing him to drop with a cry. The other leapt onto the fallen guard’s neck. Its teeth were somehow sharp enough to break through the metal plating covering his throat and rip it out, veins, larynx, esophagus, and all.

The two hiding criminals cringed as the guard’s body collapsed onto the stone. The pool of blood leaking from his mauled neck flowed into the rushing sewer water, and the scarily-intelligent rat spat out his entrails onto the stone floor.

The gruesome sight forced Link to push the bile pooling in his throat back down. Midna recovered much quicker, using the sudden panic of the guards to pull Link towards the corridor the guards had just come from. They pushed open a doorway which led into a circular chamber with a spiral staircase leading up and out of the sewers. Midna ripped off her scarf and began to pull Link, but he suddenly stopped.

Hunched over, one hand rested on his knee, while the other pulled his cloak down. Heavy breaths forced their way out of his lungs. “Mids… Mids, give me a moment.”

Midna placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah, I get it, Link. But it’s not like we haven’t seen someone die befo—”

“Don’t. I’m fine now.” Link stood back up. “But something’s wrong with those rats…”

“No shit. But that’s the Royals’ problem now,” she said, walking up the spiralling stairway. The two of them managed to get all the way up and leave the room, just after a guard with half his face missing stumbled into the room and collapsed.

“Mids…”

“Come on,” she said, not bothering to give a proper response as they walked through a long carpeted hallway.

At the end, past another doorway, was yet another staircase wrapping around a circular room — although this one was much cleaner and prettier than the sewer one — which they promptly walked up into… another hallway, though this one turned at a corner a few metres away.

“Wow. This place isn’t easy for the Princess to get around, huh?” Link joked to ease the tension.

Midna laughed lightly, until her ears twitched and she perked up in alarm. While Link heard nothing, Midna opened a door on the side, forced Link with her into the room, and shut the door.

The sound of metallic footsteps walking along carpet soon began to echo throughout the empty hallway. The two of them waited patiently as the footsteps got closer, until the guard stopped right outside the door they waited behind. Link’s heart threatened to break out of his ribs as he stilled his breath. Another set of metallic footsteps followed.

“Hey, just got back from the Sergeant's office.”

“Finally. Just got reassigned to the damn Banishment Grounds. Leaving tomorrow.”

“Dang, that sucks. I’ll miss you, man. It’s ‘cause of that terrorist attack, right? Anyways, Sergeant just told us of a situation in the dungeons. Guys down there having trouble.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be guarding the Princess?”

“Pfft. Who cares about her? You want to stand here all day? Let’s go!”

The voices drifted off as the two guards left for the sewers. Link looked up at Midna, staring at each other, before the two let out deep breaths of relief. Turning around, Link placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted.

“Mr. Vesper. Ms. Rasac.”

The two of them whipped back around lightning-fast to locate the voice that just spoke. On the other side of the room, next to an ornate window, was a young woman sat in a wheelchair. She placed a bookmark into the thick book in her hands, then closed it on her lap. It was titled ‘Interlopers: The Origins of Twilaea’. The woman drummed her fingers on the cover; an illustration of a horned stone helmet, with two pupilless red eyes below it. Her own eyes were fixed on the two intruders in her room, the crimson irises betraying no hint of emotion.

“Good day, Oriana,” Midna crooned, in a voice dripping with honeyed venom.

“Not Princess Oriana? Not the Princess of Twilight? Not even a, ‘Your Highness, Princess Oriana Twylisia Solaris of the Kingdom of Twilaea’?” the Princess asked, in a questioning tone that was somehow not condescending.

Midna smiled wide, without a single hint of happiness in her crimson and cerulean glare. “Ah, of course, Your Highliness, how could I forget—”

Her words were cut off, as Link yanked her to the floor from his own kneeling position. “Our sincerest apologies, Your Highness. You see, my companion is from a very rural province of Twilaea, one that the illustrious Royal Family—”

“The fuck are you doing? Let me give this bitch a piece of my mind,” Midna hissed in his ear, struggling against his grasp.

Link didn’t let go, pulling her down harder in response. “Midna, she’s the goddess-damned Princess! You keep making her mad, she calls in her guards, and you die! Just suck it up and kneel!”

“I am aware of your dislike of the Royal Family, Ms. Rasac,” Princess Oriana interrupted.

“Thank you, Princess! You’re so observant… and wise…” Midna said in a sing-song voice, “but surely Your Highliness must be wise enough to realize that’s the fucking understatement of the century.”

Princess Oriana lowered her head. “I sincerely apologise for the Royal Family’s handling of the Demon Blight. I offer my deepest condol—”

The Princess’ apology shattered Midna’s sickly sweet mask.“NO! SHUT UP! Don’t speak!” she snarled, baring her fangs like an angered wolf. “How… how the fuck… how the fuck do you know that? And how the fuck do you know my name?!” The orange-haired woman was frozen in place, eyes wild, as if currently deciding whether to storm out of the room or use her magic to blow a hole in the Princess’ body.

Eyes narrowed in the Princess’ direction, even Link was a bit miffed on Midna’s behalf, not knowing why the Princess would bring that up. He took a sharp breath to still his tongue, before standing up to lay a hand on Midna’s shoulder. “Midna, please, just breathe…”

She took a few deep breaths, and withdrew herself from his grasp. Locating a chair in the room, she slumped in its seat, and turned a steely gaze back to the Princess. “Spill it, Oriana. Why haven’t you called for your guards yet? We stole your shit, fucked up your guards, so why?”

The Princess of Twilaea tapped her fingers against her book before responding. “It is a simple proposition that I have for you two. You two are talented. Ambitious. Clever. Useful,” she stressed that last word. “However, you are not wise. Mr. Vesper, why, exactly, if you plan on committing treason against the Royal Family, would you reveal your name and hometown?”

Link’s face paled, while Midna let out a bitter giggle. “Eee hee hee! Thank you, Your Highliness! You are such a benevolent Princess to hold our home hostage, and so kind that you would let us do your bidding like slaves! What’s next, Your Highliness? Should we lick your shoes clean too?”

Princess Oriana kept a neutral smile on her face. “No, Ms. Rasac. Such an observation is merely evidence of the fact you two are in need of experience.”

“Wait, Your Highness,” Link spluttered. “Does the King…?”

“No,” she answered. “I will make sure of that. However, this proposition of mine requires your utmost attention, alongside your utmost cooperation. Ms. Rasac, if you would kindly return—”

“Already sold, Your Highliness,” she laughed.

The Princess did not appear surprised in the slightest. “No matter.” She pushed her wheelchair over to a table on her side, which had a tea set resting on top. “Before we begin, would you two care for a cup of tea? Estora blend,” she smiled.

The two of them shook their heads, afraid of what the Princess could have placed in it.

“As you wish.” She took a sip of her tea before continuing. “You two heard of the Banishment Grounds from the Palace Guards that were making their rounds. Perhaps you have heard more, elsewhere. You have also heard of the increased Royal Guard placement around the area, yes?”

“No, Your Highliness. You know us silly peasants are stupid, deaf, and blind.”

“Please do not interrupt, Ms. Rasac. The point is that the Guard is looking for something within the Grounds. I am not privy to such information. However, you two have demonstrated remarkable capabilities of… infiltration,” the Princess said, examining a bread roll in her hand — a puffy scored bun smeared with butter.

Link tilted his head and placed a hand on his chin. “What, your paren— Their Majesties, and the Royal Guard, they won’t tell you what’s going on?”

The emotionless smile of the Princess stretched into a thin line. “No. They will not. Moreover, I am incapable of investigating on my own, as the Palace would notice my abrupt leave, and also because,” she gestured to her wheelchair. She clasped her hands together and placed them on top of the book in her lap. “I do not wish to be kept in the dark about matters concerning national security.”

Crossing her arms, Midna leaned back further into her chair. “And why, exactly, should we play at being your private investigators?”

A flick of the wrist summoned five gold rupees, each worth 300, into the Princess’ hands, floating above it in a ring. “3,000 rupees is my offer. You will be paid 1,500 upfront.”

Midna laughed. “Buying our loyalty, huh? Truly a ruler who wins her people’s hearts fairly, Princess of Twilaea. 4,000 rupees, and it’s a deal.”

Princess Oriana flicked her wrist again, placing one more gold rupee into orbit. “3,600 rupees. 1,800 upfront. Final offer. This is a kindness. I do hope you understand you do not hold the advantage in this negotiation, Midna Adibisia Rasac of Ordon Village.”

With a grimace, Midna backed down, and Link stuck his hand out. “A pleasure doing business with you, Your Highness,” he said with a thin layer of politeness covering his simultaneous fear and anger.

The Princess returned Link’s handshake with a surprisingly firm grip despite her frail figure. She offered her own to Midna, but she ignored it and snatched the six gold rupees out of the air.

Just as they turned to leave, Midna asked, “Oriana. The fuckton of guards around the Grounds. Does Your Highliness, in her infinite wisdom, have a solution?”

The Twilaean Princess looked back up from her opened book, and matched Midna’s piercing glare with a composed look. “Ms. Rasac. I may be incapable of walking.” She took a sip of her tea. “Do not think that I am powerless.”

Chapter Text

“We go any slower, we turn into ice cubes.”

“Mids, stop complaining. We’re almost there.”

Atop a sand dune, Link peered through the red telescope with seagull carvings Aryll had given him for his birthday at a large compound. Huge walls of sandstone arranged in rectangular blocks stacked on top of each other in the shape of a pyramid broke the monotonous skyline of the Fasira Sand Islands. A single flight of stairs passed broken pillars to a platform outside what Link assumed to be the front door. In front of the stairs, guards in thick black robes walked around on patrol, magic spears in hand. Around the perimeter of the compound, the Royal Guard had set up tall Twili-symbolled objects, all connected by translucent black barriers.

Standing up from his prone position, Link dusted the sand from his cloak, now wearing the hood over his head for some protection against the freezing chill. The arid air of the Sand Islands combined with its lack of Sol Towers made him thankful that O Radiant Solara at least blessed the rest of Twilaea.

Midna pushed herself up off her back and dissolved a portion of the shadowskin covering her face to take a sip of water from her canteen, before dumping a bottle of oil to make their temporary campfire burn hotter. Link didn’t complain about the waste — thanks to their shadow storages, they could pack nearly a month’s worth of supplies without being burdened, supplied by the outpost at the border of the desert.

Having worn a thick layer of clothes over his green tunic, in addition to the natural cold resistance from his Twili blood, Link felt only slightly chilly despite his breaths coming out in thick plumes of fog. Midna reapplied her shadowskin mask and tugged at the hood of her robe to make sure it stayed put, and they began moving.

The scabbard on his back — a ‘gifted’ blade from Princess Oriana — jostled as he stumbled from the wound in his thigh, not yet fully healed. His feet sank in the sand of a narrow land bridge connecting two islands, and sand drifted off the side of the bridge into the gaping twilit abyss below them.

Link took a deep breath to calm his raging heart, forcing himself to not think about what would’ve happened had those sand grains been him.

“I’ll give you my half of the paycheck if you find out what’s at the bottom,” his partner-in-crime teased, as she floated by using her levitation magic.

“You know, Mids, I rather enjoy my current state of being,” the less magically adept man said, shuddering as he remembered reading books about experiments on the void.

A rock formation on the other side of the sandstone bridge made a perfect hiding spot, as it was close enough to the heavily guarded complex that they could get a closer look, but far enough that they wouldn’t be spotted and speared to death. After the attacks on the place by people calling themselves the ‘Sollight Army’, Princess Oriana had warned the two that the guards were on high alert.

But what was there to do? The magic fences were near impossible to cross, and even if they did, their translucency wouldn’t cut off the sightline of the guards on the outside. The only break in the fence, the front entrance, was so heavily guarded that Link doubted a Molduga could break past.

Link sunk his fingers into the sands, hoping that the cold grains would kickstart his brain into working. Coming back once the Sols had set would turn the desert from a cold wasteland into a frigid one, and no shadows could be cast in the emptiness of the islands. Princess Oriana said she had a plan, but what, exactly? She couldn’t even leave the Palace of Twilight without assistance.

Then the world went black.

Actually, no, it didn’t, sand just got in his eyes from the ground suddenly shaking violently. Link blinked and rubbed his eyes, only to see a huge mound slithering through the sands, rapidly approaching the front entrance to the Banishment Grounds. Another quake nearly knocked him and Midna to the ground when something surfaced from the mound.

A gigantic mass coloured jet black with a grey underbelly and teal markings snaking down its body flew upwards into the Sol-less sky, gargantuan protruding jaw wide open to display its uneven fangs. Huge tentacle-like appendages on its head flowed in the air. Sand was funnelled into its mouth, along with any unfortunate guards caught in its breach. Tidal waves of sand were left in its wake once it tunneled back below the desert surface. A horn sounded, alerting guards of the attack. Many ran out of the makeshift barracks behind the fence to see what had caused the violent tremors. However, most hovered around the entrance, cowering behind the barrier when black bone-like protrusions connected by bright red membranes sliced through the cold sands, as if the fins of the beast were a knife wielded by the desert itself.

Then the beast breached the surface again, destroying a formation of brave guards who thought they could defend against the beast. Spheres and bolts of lightning broke harmlessly against its hide as it dived back into the sand. Link was proven incorrect — a Molduga could break past the front. He had only heard of the huge creatures in books and stories. Now that he saw its might firsthand he was no longer fascinated, just terrified.

Link took the opportunity to make a mad dash towards the Grounds. From the sand sinking below his feet to the ache in his leg, he was slowed considerably, making him envious of the woman next to him floating by. Regardless, he had a job to do and wasn’t looking forward to being the Twilit Molduga’s next meal.

“Was this Oriana’s distraction?!” Midna shouted, barely heard over the roars of a raging Molduga and the screams of helpless guards. “How did she even… how?!”

While Link would have appreciated the answer to how a Princess miles away had done this, he wasn’t the type of person to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or a gift Molduga, he thought as flying grains of sand pelted his cloak. He really didn’t want to be the next person looking that in the mouth.

As they crossed the fence, they took a cursory glance at the bodies littered around. Some had been knocked unconscious or outright died when they were thrown into the air by the Molduga’s breaches. Some unlucky few were bleeding out, dyeing the sands a harsh red, mauled by its fangs. Link shuddered, and not from the cold, as he realized an even unluckier portion of guards were currently being melted by the Molduga’s stomach acids.

Link stopped when he came to a pillar with a guard sitting down against it, clutching his stomach. “Are you alright?” Link asked, kneeling down.

“Mutt, what are you doing?!” Midna hissed.

“The… the Molduga,” the guard coughed, spitting droplets of blood onto the sands.

Link grimaced. “Can you stand?”

The guard sluggishly pushed himself to his feet, and was only saved from falling back down when Link propped him up.

“Th… thank you,” the guard said as he and Link shuffled towards the stairs to the front entrance of the Grounds, not too far away. “What… what’s your name?”

Before Link could even open his mouth, a broken beam that had held up the Royal Guard’s barracks collapsed onto the sand. The desert suddenly shook violently, nearly throwing the two men to the ground. A glance over his shoulder revealed a sight that made his heart nearly stop beating altogether. A short distance behind them, a blood-red fin was cutting through the sands, fast approaching.

“We need to move! Faster!” Link shouted over the rumbling, speeding up to the point he was almost dragging the guard.

The guard cursed under his breath, and Link felt like doing the same. The stairs weren’t that far; this wasn’t how it ended!

But the Molduga was gaining on them fast. In mere seconds, Link’s stomach dropped as he suddenly felt weightless from the sand below his feet beginning to fly upwards. Just as he tried to throw himself and the guard forwards, a hand grasped Link’s wrist and he was dragged away, boosted by levitation magic. The guard fell from his side, screaming as he hit the sand, alerting the eyeless Molduga into pursuing a closer prey.

It surfaced again right below the guard, jaw wide open. His screams were cut short when the Molduga snapped its maw shut, letting red droplets fall from the sky like a macabre rainfall. Another wave of sand from the Molduga’s dive swept the two survivors onto the sandstone steps of the Banishment Grounds. Link barely took notice of the multiple spears and harpoons embedded into the Molduga’s grey underbelly. It explained why the beast had attacked with such power — it was angry from a previous encounter. Or it was hungry. Or both, and Link wasn’t willing to find out which was the stronger emotion as he clambered up the steps.

Snapping a canteen into his hands, he sat down to wash the man’s blood off of him, but he still felt dirty. His hands shook, and deep gasps forced their way out of his lungs. “Midna… why…?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Nearly killing yourself to save some idiot already on death’s door?!” The blood on her face only seemed to make her look angrier.

Link was taken aback at her viciousness. “He was hurt! I had to try!”

“You’re soooo heroic, Mr. Important Hero.” Midna laughed, but the sound was as bitter as the blood that had landed in his mouth. “You can’t stop, can you? Throwing yourself headfirst into danger for every person you see?”

“I… Midna, you did that for me when we first met!” Link said, offended. Why was she acting so hostile?

“That’s because I thought you were useful,” she spat. “You’re lucky that I care enough for you to not die.”

“You don’t seriously mean that, do you?”

Midna let out a heavy breath through gritted teeth as she washed the blood off of herself. “Fine. I take it back. But as your friend, Link, let me tell you something: sometimes, it’s you or the other guy. Make the right choice. Don’t be stupid.”

She got up and walked up the steps, leaving Link dumbfounded. “What?” he said to no one. There was no reason for him to be so surprised — he knew exactly when and where she got her overly cynical worldview from. He filled his head with meaningless thoughts to expel the bad memories before following her.

At the top of the steps was a flat platform, just in front of a singular closed door. Flanking the massive slab were two heavily clothed guards, one shaking in fright at the aftermath left in the Molduga’s attack, before they laid their eyes on the two newcomers.

“Who— who are you two? Identify yourselves!” the nervous guard shouted, now standing at upright attention despite his shivers.

“Um,” Link racked his brain, trying to come up with a lie, “We’re—”

“We are Royal archaeologists employed by,” Midna’s mouth twisted, “His Majesty. Our orders were to investigate the inside of the Banishment Grounds.”

“You think you can open this door?” the other guard asked. “We’ve been trying for weeks now, and it doesn’t budge. Anyways, where’s your identification?”

“It was lost in the Molduga attack. Such a tragedy, I am truly sorry for your losses,” Midna lied.

“Not even a single card or badge?” The guard walked forward towards Midna, eyes narrowing, and gripped her spear tighter.

Midna perked up as if remembering something. “Ah, right! Let me just get it for you!” She fumbled around with her robe and snapped.

Instantly, orange tendrils covered the entirety of her interrogator. Unable to move, she barely got another sound out before Midna pummeled her with a shadow sphere to the face.

“You’re part— you’re part of the Sollight Army!” the other guard cried out, whirling his spear around to stab at Link. “You terrorists directed that m-monster here!”

Whatever the ‘Sollight Army’ was, Link really didn’t care. In a flash, he drew the blade on his back into his left hand to parry the — frankly pathetic — blows of the guard. Their weapons crossed in an X, so Link drew his blade along the shaft of the spear to slice at his opponent’s fingers. When he drew back, Link used the opening to strike the pommel of his sword into the guard’s face.

After bandaging up the unconscious guard’s fingers, Link turned to see Midna with her hands on her hips, looking at the dusty limestone door. She tried to pry a spear under the thin opening as a lever to lift it, but the shaft snapped in two, unable to even shift the massive weight.

The door was a single unremarkable slab without any distinct markings, but was heavily weathered from years of erosion, and had black scorch marks from the guards trying to blast it open. Searching for any hidden switches, Link found some weathered dents in the slab, suitable for his hands to grab, and attempted to slide the door upwards. It didn’t move.

Midna clicked her tongue. “Think you need to start lifting more weights, mutt.”

“That thing…” Link huffed, “is about a million pounds. Why don’t you try lifting it, magic lady?”

Midna put her hands on the slab, pushed, and fell through as if the door didn’t exist.

Link yelped and ran over to grab Midna before she disappeared completely, but her momentum pulled him in. Inside the door itself, Link felt as if he was suspended in water, but only for a second as Midna’s fall dragged him out, and dust flew up when the two bodies hit the ground.

Pushing himself to his feet, Link summoned an oil-covered torch from his storage, igniting it with a small bolt of lightning. The handheld flame revealed they were just above a narrow corridor consisting of a single stairway leading downwards.

A groan echoed through the eroded walls as Midna slowly got up. “How… how did the Royal Guard not get through? One of those idiots must’ve had the bright idea of running straight into the door,” she said, brushing off her cloak.

“Yeah, that’s weird. How come the door was solid for me, but not you?”

“Who cares?” Midna shrugged, walking down the steps. “Whatever happened, we’re here now, so let’s look around the place for the treasure!”

“But there’s no treasure, the Princess just wanted us to look…” he sighed, following after her. Some steps were completely weathered away in places, causing Link to nearly lose his balance at times. As they reached the middle of the staircase, a crack appeared straight through the middle. A sudden rumbling made Link’s stomach lurch. The two of them ran and leapt past the crack, barely in time to look back and watch a large portion of the stairway drop into a pitch black pit, cutting off their exit.

What really shook Link is that even after a minute of waiting, no sound of a crash of the fallen stone came.

Past the staircase was a large room, unable to be seen in its entirety due to the only light sources being Link’s torch and a single lit brazier in front of them. Link walked towards the flame to notice three other unlit braziers, formed in a square, and he lit them with his own torch.

All of a sudden, torches resting high on the walls of the room came to life as soon as he lit the final brazier, letting them see the entire room. They were standing on a platform, raised high above an abyss that surrounded the platform like a moat. Between the waterfalls of sand pouring from the far walls, platforms led to closed doors, but no way to cross. The only exception was one doorway, already opened, with a bridge extending from the central platform towards it.

Link began to make his way towards the open door, before his boot hit something hard. Looking down, he saw a raised pedestal with a small slit in its centre. “Was there supposed to be a sword here?”

“Probably what Oriana wants,” Midna said.

Link felt his body flush as it readjusted from the outside chill to the warmer inside of the ruins, made hotter by the four flames next to him. Midna threw back her hood and dissolved the shadowskin mask over her face, before taking off her thicker clothes. Link followed suit, pulling off his coats and loosening his cloak.

The two decided to take a small break to replenish their energy, taking drinks of water and eating some pieces of bread. They finished their meal with an Ordon pumpkin pie, warmed up by the braziers. Once they felt rested enough, they broke their supplies back into shadows and walked through the first hallway.

The dim light, the thick undisturbed dust coating the floor, and the piles of sand scattered across the corridor made it clear this place hadn’t been touched in goddesses knows how long. At least by Twilaean hands, anyways, as animal chirps drew their attention to the ceiling.

Keese hung upside down from the ceiling, wings curled up tightly, blood red eyes observing the two intruders on their territory. Link stopped and stared at the bats, hesitant to provoke them. Keese were mostly docile creatures, with some people adopting them as pets. However, they were very hostile to those they perceived as intruders upon their territory, and two people in the Banishment Grounds fit that exact criteria. Link wasn’t exactly thrilled with killing animals that were just defending their home. “Mids…” he whispered.

Midna stopped to give him a stern look. “Does Mr. Important Hero’s heroism extend to animals, too?”

Her bite was back, and it wasn’t the one Link was used to. “Midna, what’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong! Oriana knew my entire goddess-damned name — first, last, even my matronymic, and we’ve never met before! And then she somehow has a Molduga in her pockets! Finally, there’s you, who doesn’t want to kill anything but himself!” Midna threw her hands up in frustration.

“Then why’d you come here?” Link asked, coldness starting to creep into his voice.

Midna’s expression hardened even further. “Because Aryll and the other brats would be sad if you went and died alone. Isn’t that why we took the job in the first place? For them?”

The coldness instantly receded. “Yeah,” Link murmured.

Midna sighed when he deflated. “Look, I’m… it’s just this whole situation is strange. Let’s just find out what Oriana wants and get our paycheck.”

Link took a deep breath, unsheathed his sword, and walked forwards. Almost immediately, the keese unlatched themselves from the ceiling, unfurling their wings to show the hooks on their wings and tail, and launched themselves at the two. A few slashes from Link and a few blasts of shadow magic from Midna ended the fight.

Grimacing, Link removed the blood from his blade by shaking it. As they walked into the next room, Link took the time to bandage up a small slice an errant keese had made on the back of his hand. A sharp nudge from Midna stopped him before he could wrap the gauze tight.

“I don’t think that’s supposed to be living here,” she whispered, on edge.

Link looked up to see a wolf sitting in the centre of the room. “I think you’re right,” he responded, also uneasy.

The wolf was clearly unnatural. Covered completely in jet black fur, a silver stone plate rested on its forehead, covering much of its face. Its eyes were completely blue, without sclera or pupils. Rope-like strands of fur came out of the back of its head like hair. The base of its tail had a stone bangle around it. Twili sigils embellished parts of its body in a dim turquoise. Link thought back to the rats back in the Palace of Twilight, and how they turned red before attacking.

Any hope that they could walk around the wolf was dashed when it stood on all fours, head low, and snarled. The markings that remained teal caused little comfort. Link hesitantly unsheathed his blade, and Midna pointed at the wolf, preparing a shadow snare.

The wolf crossed the distance in the blink of an eye. Midna formed a black circle around its paws, but it shrugged off the orange tendrils as if they were little more than cobwebs. Link charged in and swung downwards, only for the wolf to sidestep, now too close for him to get away. The wolf pounced, and his vision filled with white.

✦ ✦

Link exhaled the breath he was subconsciously holding, just for bubbles to appear around his mouth. Opening his eyes revealed that he was lying face-down in a puddle of water, only about a centimetre deep. With a cough, he got to his feet and looked down to meet the reflection of his own scarlet eyes.

Everything seemed as it was; he was wearing his cloak and tunic, his sword was still strapped to his back, and to his relief, his neck and face were untouched. No sign of a stone-plated blue-eyed wolf tearing his throat out.

Trying to adjust to his new surroundings, Link scanned the horizon. The water stretched on for infinity, not a single landmark to be seen, and not a single ripple disturbed the reflection of the blue sky in the— blue sky? Above him was a cloudless canvas the colour of sapphires. This wasn’t the Twilight Realm — this was the Light Realm, the blue sky above him only depicted in paintings of the other world. But that was impossible — the last Mirrors of Twilight were destroyed before Link’s parents had even thought of having him.

“Am I dead?” he asked to the infinite realm of blue. It was the only explanation, unless that wolf had magic Mirror powers. He doubted it; it probably did rip his throat out and now he was about to be taken to the Sacred Realm. Would the Golden Goddesses take him? He hoped he could meet Her Divinity, O Courageous Farore — she was his favourite.

Oh goddesses, what was he thinking? He had left Midna fighting the thing that had just killed him, and she would have to tell Aryll — but the sound of splashing water drew him back to his new reality. The wolf who had attacked him stood only a few metres away.

Startled, he drew back, sword already unsheathed. In a flash of light, the wolf was replaced by a man. He was the same height as Link, nearly the same build, but he stood with an unexplainable pressure about him, in contrast to Link who was radiating his uneasiness. Blonde hair fell around his face, a haircut similar to Link’s, except the stranger’s was longer and the shade of his blonde was darker. His face was the light blue of a Twili, rather than the Hylian pale of Link’s. Most striking was the line of glowing Twilit glyphs on one side of his face that ran from his forehead, through one eye, past the collar of an emerald green tunic, and glowed through shadowskin arm coverings. Wrapped around the man’s shoulders was a light blue cloth, decorated with a white stylized depiction of a bird with its wings stretched upwards — the Hylian crest.

Link couldn’t help but notice the slight similarities in their faces, but their eyes were different — blue the colour of the sky, stoic and sharp, met Link’s wide-eyed scarlet gaze.

Link noticed the man wasn’t that much older than him. How did he carry himself with such strength at such a young age? And why was he in Link’s afterlife? “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

The man did not respond with words. From the intricate scabbard on his back, he drew a black blade with the wings of its crossguard pointing down and gave it a spin in his left hand before raising it at Link.

Then he leapt forward and swung. Link intercepted the strike with one of his own, but the swordsman’s unexpected strength staggered Link. He stepped back to regain his footing before hesitantly delivering a swing of his own. Sparks flew into the shallow waters as the two exchanged blows over and over.

“Why are you attacking me? What did I even do? Who are you?” Link asked desperately. The only answer came in the form of another strike.

A feint Link fell for had nearly cost him the fight, only managing to twist his body in time to allow a shallower cut than normal. Yelling out in pain, Link glanced down at the damage but he found his tunic wasn’t even touched. He had no time to ponder the strange sight as another blow, only barely blocked, almost forced him off his feet. Link didn’t have much time, or skill, to counter, and he wasn’t aiming to kill to begin with — this was a person, even if this was the afterlife. But the ferocity of the strikes forced his hand, and it was either him or the other guy.

Link leapt forwards and the two locked blades. Ragged breaths came out of his mouth as he desperately pushed back. A kick to the stomach forcibly removed the remaining air left in his lungs as he staggered backwards, gasping desperately. He recovered just in time to sidestep the subsequent slash, and weaved towards his opponent’s unarmed side. Just as his opponent turned to defend, Link spun back around to the other side to strike at the new opening. The man stumbled back, allowing Link to follow up with multiple slashes that left him on the ground.

Was he dead? Link stood still, sword loose in his hands, leaning his head towards the sky to gulp down as much air as he could. Recovering enough of his stamina, he walked over to check on the fallen swordsman — who promptly swept Link’s feet out from under him. The swordsman leapt up at incredible speed, taking the opportunity to cut deep.

The pain forced Link back, and he didn’t have enough strength to block the next slash. Pain erupted from his armpit to his hip as the strike forced him onto his back.

He could only watch as his attacker leapt into the air to drive his sword into Link’s heart and end his life once more. The sensation of metal piercing through his chest was so severe his brain couldn’t process it, and he blacked out.

Except he didn’t, because the pain subsided rapidly. He looked to his side, the shallow waters still coloured blue instead of a sickly shade of red. Sitting up, he could see his attacker standing back, blade held loose.

Link stood up and checked over his body. Not a single scratch could be found on his tunic or cloak, not a single wound marked his skin. Such was the power of the afterlife, he supposed, that one could use it as a training ground without the fear of a second death.

“A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage,” the man said, in a calm voice that exuded power well beyond his years. He paused before he spoke again. “But courage and recklessness differ. I attacked you, and you fought back well. You downed me but did not finish me. Why?”

“Well,” Link said, confused as to why the swordsman held no anger, “I thought you were already dead.”

“Reckless. Downed enemies are still dangerous. You lack awareness… you disgrace the proud green of the tunic you wear.” The swordsman paused again, then raised his sword at Link.

Link gaped. “What? Aren’t you also tired…” he cut off, noticing that all of his stamina had returned to him. Was this another power of the afterlife?

“Do not think downed enemies are already dead. You think wrong, and you die. Use the move I used to end the battle faster,” the swordsman said, swinging at Link once more.

The stamina boost allowed Link to block the strike with minor difficulty. A few more swings gave him the chance to thread his way to the swordsman’s side and throw out an attack. Just as his opponent blocked, he spun back to the opening — only to be stabbed before he completed his movement.

“Reckless. You cannot die here, but you can die back in the real world. And predictable. You fight like…” the swordsman trailed off, but continued striking at Link. “You fight too predictably,” he finished.

The swordsman went to stab at Link’s left, but his eyes flickering to the right betrayed that it was another feint. Link closed in from the left, using his free hand to bat the actual attack away harmlessly over his right shoulder. His attacks forced his opponent onto his back and Link leapt into the air to plunge his sword through the swordsman’s chest.

The swordsman stood back up, uninjured. “Good. Your eyes have improved. That skill is called the Ending Blow. Use it to finish off downed enemies, but do not use it too soon or too late,” he said, tone completely level.

With his exhaustion fading quickly, Link grinned, proud of his own growing combat skills. “Thank you… but who are you? Am I dead?” he asked.

The swordsman looked at him, calm expression unchanged. “I am but a spirit with lingering regrets,” he said after a delay. “You are not dead. You will wake up soon. We will meet again. There are still many skills to be taught. Farewell.” The spirit twirled his blade in a flourish and sheathed it. Before Link could ask how, when, and where he would come back to this place, he was blinded again with white light.

✦ ✦

The dusty sandstone walls of the Banishment Grounds greeted Link as he opened his eyes. Realizing he was laid on his back, he sat back up to see a pair of eyes staring at him, one crimson, one cerulean, both narrowed in worry.

“About damn time, sleeping beauty!” Midna said in a mixture of annoyance and concern.

“Mids… what happened?” he murmured, still somewhat dazed.

“You tell me! That wolf pounced on you, it disappeared, and you’ve been sleeping like a log for the last ten minutes!”

“I… you’re not going to believe this.”

“Try me.”

Link explained as best he could about the water-filled location in the Light Realm, and how the wolf, actually the spirit of a very skilled swordsman, had trained him.

“I feel like I should be surprised, but with everything that’s happened, I’m not,” Midna said.

“Really?”

“No, I still think you’ve lost it,” she laughed. “Hurry up, you delusional dog, you’ve had your nap.”

While she began to leave, Link noticed that his head had rested on his own folded-up cloak. When he unfurled it, he found it was singed, the burned cloth in the shape of a circle right where the wolf had leapt at him. Smiling, he got up and began to follow his friend. “Thank you, Mids,” he called after her.

She waved a hand, not looking back.

The next hallway was also full of keese, which they promptly disposed of, and which Link still felt bad about. Past a flight of stairs was a room, where a treasure chest was locked behind a gate of rusted iron bars. Lined around the walls were skeletons, decayed beyond recognition. They tried to ignore the fact that some of the skeletons were far too small to be adults.

When the two neared the iron bars, something clattered. At the centre of the room, a pile of bones rattled against each other as they rose upwards, floating through the air and affixing themselves to each other without any ligaments or tendons. The final hollow clash of bone binding itself to bone revealed a standing skeleton. Black pauldrons rested on its skeletal shoulders, and it was armed with a thick sword in one hand and a shield in the other. Red orbs filled its bony eye sockets, glaring at the two, and it swung its sword. Midna leapt back to launch a shadow ball at the skeleton, while Link struck back only to be blocked by the shield.

“Of all the skeletons that had to turn into Stalfos, why did it have to be the one with the sword?” Midna complained. “You distract it, I’ll take it out!”

Link continued sending strikes at the Stalfos as Midna circled around to send a sphere right into its exposed spine. The Stalfos broke apart into pieces onto the floor, its head rolling away. Believing the monster to be dead, Link sheathed his sword — a blunder, as the Stalfos almost immediately reformed back, stabbing into his right shoulder.

Luckily, the lack of a head gave the monster absolutely zero hand-eye coordination, saving Link from a deep wound. Leaping back prevented the next blind slash from opening up Link’s chest, giving him enough space to unsheathe his weapon again. However, it also gave the Stalfos time to run towards its fallen skull to secure it back onto its shoulders. Midna tried to run over to him, but a slash aimed in her direction drove her back. “Are you alright?” she called out, weaving between more strikes.

He gave a yell of affirmation before striking at his foe, only to meet its shield. Parrying an overhead counter, Link took advantage of a small opening to drop low and slash the skeleton’s legs, allowing him to weave behind the monster with more strikes. The skull flew off again, and as the rest of the bones drifted towards it to revive, Link leapt in the air and drove his blade into the head, splintering the bone into pieces.

He waited a few moments before it became apparent the Stalfos wouldn’t come back. His rapid breaths slowed, giving him the focus to bandage his wounded shoulder.

“Cool moves, swordsman,” Midna said, tossing a bottle of Red Potion to Link.

“Thanks.” He downed the remedy to dull the pain. “Learned it from the wolf spirit.”

Midna raised an eyebrow. “You needed the spirit of a long lost swordsman to help you… learn to finish off something that hasn’t died yet? That’s Combat 101, mutt.”

Link groaned. “You saw how I fought that Stalfos, Mids! My skills aren’t as sloppy!”

Midna laughed and shook her head, then walked over to the iron bars. The torches in the room cast the shadows on the other side, striking out that idea. Examining the dropped sword of the Stalfos gave Link another one. The weight and size forced him to pick it up with both hands to swing at the rusted bars. A deep cut let them know his plan worked. As soon as he made a large enough hole, his last swing shattered the sword in two. Dropping the blade, Link knelt down to open the treasure chest, pulling out a strange rectangular board.

The thick board, made of a smooth black material, curved up on both ends, with a circle in the middle that appeared to be a separate part. There were two foot-shaped depressions on either side of the circle. Flipping it over revealed that the circular part was a cylinder, its bottom made of a shiny material consisting of a strange alternating pattern of light and dark blue geometric shapes. A thick dotted line of the same blue material ran across its length, surrounding the board.

Flipping the surprisingly lightweight board in his arms a few times, he turned as Midna nudged him with a piece of metal. “Something to protect you from getting stabbed in the future,” she said, and the two exchanged their items. The Stalfos’ kite-shaped shield, somehow still in good condition, was framed in black steel. Solara’s sign on the top and Twili glyphs embossed in silver below it covered the rest of the grey shield. He found that it wasn’t too heavy or large as he strapped it to his right arm.

“Thanks, Mids,” he called to the woman currently examining the next hallway. The walls curved downwards to the side, but there was no walkway, only an abyss. Board in hand, she examined a line of the same blue material on the board that ran along the wall, only half a foot off the floor before it ran over the chasm. Midna placed a hand on her chin, then put the board next to the track. She jumped as it flew out of her hands, sticking itself to the track with a loud clang.

Midna clambered onto the board and pressed her feet into the holes. Immediately, bands of the same smooth black material gripped her feet, securing her to the board. She then slightly shifted her weight, which seemed to make the board move slightly along the track with a series of heavy clunks. She turned back to Link. “Well? Are you going to get on, or not?”

Link’s gaze switched between her and the board. “How? There’s barely enough space!”

Midna shrugged. “Guess you’re either holding onto me like a backpack or I’m leaving you here.”

Sighing, he climbed onto the board and held onto the waist of the taller woman. “How is this tiny thing holding our weight?”

“I think it’s really strong magnets,” she said, right before leaning her weight forwards to take off.

They both screamed — Link in absolute fear, Midna in absolute delight — as they rocketed forward along the curve of the wall at frightening speed, accompanied by the sound of the board clunking against the track. Link could barely breathe from how fast the air moved past him. At the end of the spiral, the track ended into a pit of quicksand flowing down like a funnel. Midna laughed with glee, and Link cried with fright, as she kicked off the track into certain doom.

Link watched in horror, his body already half submerged and sinking in the quicksand, as Midna went under. He tried to swim out to no avail, as he was funnelled to the hole in the centre. He screamed as something opened up and he fell along with a pile of sand onto a stone floor. Link, heart still racing, his healing leg probably worse for wear, took a minute to stand up. He had dropped back to the central chamber, along with Midna who was breathing quickly, a bright smile plastered on her face.

“That was… awesome!” she shouted, brushing sand out of her clothes and hair.

“That was… horrifying,” Link coughed out, doing the same. “How’d you know that wouldn’t kill us?”

Midna grinned. “It was a hunch. Whoever designed this place probably wouldn’t put such a track like that if they wanted us dead at the end. It’d be like if you threw a prisoner a huge feast before you chopped his head off.”

Link was pretty sure they did do that, but he ignored the morbid analogy, and found rectangular indents in the floor that seemed a perfect fit for the board. Midna placed the board in the hole with a thunk. Not knowing what to do, she tried stepping on the centre cylinder of the board. It spun, nearly knocking the two of them off their feet as the place shook with the sound of stone on stone. Spinning the board again revealed a bridge slowly extending towards the closed door on the other side. A few more spins opened the bridge all the way to the other side, along with the door.

Past the open doorway was a hallway filled with quicksand, and a blue track to their left and right. Midna laughed as she got on the board, a groaning Link in tow, and kicked off. He yelped as Midna kicked off the wall, spinning the board to the other track to avoid colliding into a fallen pillar jutting out of the quicksand.

The room on the other side was nearly pitch black. A thin layer of black fog swept over the sandstone floor. Link shivered from how cold the room seemed to be, only marginally better than the Sand Islands. Worse, the hairs on the backs of his neck rose from the strange feeling of being watched, despite nothing else in the room other than the piles of unmoving bones. At the centre of the chamber, a sword wreathed in the black fog hovered slightly above the ground, suspended by chains.

Against his better judgement, Link walked up to the blade and touched the hilt. Thick white smoke poured out of the cracks in the floor, and all he could hear was the sound of metal against stone until Midna forcibly yanked him backwards. Two rusted scimitars embedded themselves into the place Link had been just moments before.

The smoke parted, revealing a lantern lit by blue flame before something threw it to the ground, shattering it as towering walls of blue flames trapped them. Before their eyes was a figure made of the smoke, taller than even Midna. Pulling the scimitars from the floor, it gave them a flourish before swiping at the two.

Link blocked with his shield before unsheathing his blade, and began circling the phantom. Midna snapped, ensnaring the foe, but just as Link ran in to strike, it broke free of the tendrils, trapped Link’s sword in between its own, and twisted it downwards. Just as it raised one blade to strike, it was struck by a shadow ball, staggering it for Link to stab. The phantom switched its focus to Midna, but she trapped the blades in a snare with one hand and used the other to strike the phantom with a bolt of orange-black lightning.

At the same time, Link slashed at its exposed back. It parried with a spin, forcing him back and giving Midna a nasty cut across her forearms, driving her back with a cry of pain. Link dove into a flurry of strikes to wrest its attention from Midna, which were all parried. Suddenly, the phantom threaded its way close to Link, giving him only moments to raise his shield to block the onslaught. Sensing an opening, Link reversed the grip on his sword, hit the flat of one scimitar away, and drove his sword deep into the phantom until his hand sank into its misty body.

Why are they doing this to us what did we do I hate you I hate this why are they doing this to us what did we do

Link and his foe both reared back, one from physical injury, the other from a mental one. Shaking off the ice cold feeling that had washed over him and the lingering whispers in his ears, Link was greeted with a much more corporeal phantom, its features now distinct. His eyes went wide as he realized what he was fighting. The stature, the high-cropped top, the billowing pants, the way it moved and fought — this was a Poe, a phantom formed from the lingering hatred and despair of the dead, of a Gerudo warrior! But how and why would one manifest in the Banishment Grounds? It was an ancient ruin, sealed off long ago before the Queen of a New Dawn reigned and opened the Mirrors.

“There! That’s it’s weak spot!” Midna yelled as she shot bolts of lightning in quick succession against a blood red sphere in its chest. The Poe threaded its way past the strikes of lightning, but she managed to bring up a barrier of shadow magic to block its attacks. Link ran up to strike, but the phantom turned and once again twisted his blade to the ground, this time with greater ferocity. It brought one scimitar down onto the flat of his blade to shatter it in two. At the same moment, Midna leapt to its back to rip out its core with her bare hands.

“Don’t touch it!” Link yelled, too late.

She screamed, face contorted in anguish, and fell backwards. Link rushed over to protect Midna. As blows rained on his shield, he drove his broken sword into the Poe’s thigh to the grip.

Why why why why why I hate you why why why why why

When the phantom roared in pain, Link plunged his hands past its ghastly form and squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers closed around the orb in its chest.

We fought for them so why did they turn on us why why why are they killing us why

Link heaved for air, fingers shaking from the effort and the absurd cold. The core was almost out, put more effort into it…!

It hurts stop stop stop please stop the pain it hurts it’s so cold please stop please stop please stop

Link flew backwards as he pulled the core out of the spirit, and he barely managed to move his body to leap after the rolling orb and plunge his broken sword into it. The Poe, its core, and the blue flames dissolved into the air. It felt like his entire body was drenched in ice-cold water, and his head felt as if it would split open from the horrid echoes bouncing in his skull.

A few deep breaths relaxed his pounding heart, and his fingers regained feeling. Discarding his shattered blade, he stumbled over to Midna, who had her hands pressed to her temples.

“Mids…”

She pushed herself to her feet. “I— I’m fine, just a headache,” she said shakily. Bandaging up her arms, she gestured to the chained sword. “Be careful, we don’t know what that thing…”

Her words were drowned out in a haze, but Link had enough lucidity to place a bottle of Red Potion at her feet before walking up to the sword. The black smoke had disappeared with the Poe, revealing a brass-coloured hilt with an eye embossed on the pommel. The grip was etched with a maze of lines, and the black crossguard was made of a smooth material he had never seen before. Near the crossguard, an etched tail weaved shortly up the blade’s length and ended in a segmented circle divided by rings. It almost looked like Solara’s crest, but sliced. Lines in a random network of right angles covered the sword, from the crossguard to the tip of the midnight black blade. They glowed a light blue, both the pattern and colour similar to that of the Twili’s glyphs, but not quite.

Midna called to him, but he couldn’t perceive the sound. As soon as Link grabbed the sword, the chains holding the sword shattered into black squares. A pulse of powerful magic emanated from the sword like a shockwave, blowing away the bones and sand in the room, and drenching Link and Midna’s vision in pure darkness.

✦ ✦

A young man drifted through the sands of the Gerudo Desert, blue cloudless skies allowing the sun to shine its harsh rays upon him and his trusty sand seal. His black bisht^[1] flowed in the wind as the two surfed through the dunes.

He had just left Toruma Refinery on an investigation — the appearance of strange contaminants in the crude oil had caused a few workers to become sick. He didn’t think it was too big of a deal; the oil was dirty and if they took shortcuts in safety then that was their own fault, but the Chief thought otherwise.

He untied his waist from his sand seal and sat down on the rock they had made it to. He took a drink of water as Patrick — named to match his little sister’s sand seal Patricia — flopped around on the sand.

He gritted his teeth as loud ringing suddenly permeated the desert air. Feeling his right hand burning at the same time, he looked down. The triangle at the top of the Triforce marked on the back of his hand glowed a soft gold.

Acting for reasons he couldn’t explain, Ganondorf tied himself back onto Patrick and set off towards the ancient ruins of the distant Arbiter’s Grounds.

✦ ✦

The girl nearly tripped over a cucco as she hurried back home. Stuck in a particularly fascinating history book, she lost track of time, and her mother was a very punctual woman! Racing up the steps, she carefully slid open the door. She slipped off her boots and placed them to the side of the foyer, taking care not to track dirt onto the wooden floorboards.

She walked into the kitchen to see her mother at the counter, next to a pot on the stovetop, chopping an onion. “Kaa-san!^[2] Sorry— sorry I’m late—”

“Ah, Paya, you’re back! Lost track of time at the library again? It’s okay, I’m not mad,” her mother said gently, then turned back to the onion. “Do you mind helping me with this? I just can’t…” she moaned, pushing up red round-framed glasses to rub at her watering eyes.

Paya took the knife from her mother’s hands, making quick, skilled slashes to avoid crying any more than she needed.

A harsh ringing sound reverberated through the kitchen into her ears, knocking her out of the rhythm and making her wince.

“Paya, what’s wrong? Do you need me to take over again?” her mother asked, apparently having heard nothing.

“No, no, it’s nothing,” Paya said, blinking to rid her head of the dull ache and her eyes of the sting of onion as she resumed cutting.

Strange. Maybe Grandmother has some medicine for that.

✦ ✦

Thwack.

Another arrow hit went wide of the bullseye, wedging deep in the red of the second ring around the centre. A plausible excuse would be that the sun in her eyes threw her off, but the placement of her archery range made it so the walls and spires of the castle would block its light. She hated practicing inside the castle walls — too sterile and windless of an environment for the training to be reproducible in the wild.

Sighing, she pulled another arrow out of her quiver and set it on the arrow shelf of her bow. The truth was, her mind was elsewhere. For the past few nights, she dreamt of a water-filled expanse with an eclipsed sun in a twilit sky, lighting it in uncomfortable twists of oranges and purples. It felt too empty, too isolated, and every time she woke up, a simmering emotion of… something negative would always linger in the back of her mind.

While she would have liked to dismiss these dreams as nothing more than a creation of her cognition, they were far too vivid and emotional to be so. These were prophetic visions of the future, ones that the women of her bloodline had been afflicted with throughout generations. Only, she could not come up with even the simplest hypothesis as to what those dreams could mean, and it troubled her greatly.

She placed the nock of the arrow against the bowstring, and drew in a breath, one eye closed, focusing on her target.

The second she let loose, loud ringing sounded through the air of the range, and her arrow barely landed on the outermost ring as she doubled over, clutching her pointed ears.

The sudden burning of her right hand made her yelp, and she hastily pulled off her archery glove to examine it. The leftmost piece of the Triforce mark on the back of her hand gave off a soft golden light.

Zelda let her bow hang loosely in her hand as she turned her head towards the white clouds in the blue afternoon sky.

So it begins.

Chapter Text

No longer bound by chains, the sword continued to hover in the air, as if resisting the laws of nature decreed by O Wise Nayru herself. Blood pounded in Link’s ears as he continued to stare at the midnight black blade, utterly transfixed.

He grasped the hilt, bracing for whatever else the mystical sword had in store. Nothing happened, no pulse of magic. The sword dropped from its invisible strings, settling into Link’s grip. He flipped it back into a forward grip and swung it a few times.

It was… not as he expected. Simultaneously slightly too light and slightly too heavy, the sword felt a bit awkward in his hands, unlike how wielders of legendary blades described their weapons. But in the back of his mind, he felt a tug from the blade, like a promise to fight as best as possible alongside its master. The veins, arteries, and nerves from his left arm to his shoulder tingled as if taking the time to become accustomed to the new extension of his limb.

Strangely, the sword fit perfectly in his scabbard despite it being crafted for the less mystical swords of the Royal Guard. He unbuckled it, finding that the bare leather sleeve had been replaced with an intricate jet black sheath, embossed with the same Twili-like circuits and the tailed segmented circle found on the blade, in a stone grey material. Link supposed this was one of the many powers of magical swords.

Midna walked up to him, eyes narrowed. “Did the sword make you go deaf or something? Did you even hear a word I said?”

Only then did he realize she was calling to him the whole time. “No, I…” he floundered, searching for a defense, “It worked out fine, didn’t it?”

Midna groaned. “Try not to go and touch every ancient magic artifact you find in sealed dungeons in the future. You’re not very useful if you die from a curse…” She suddenly fell silent, eyes flickering with slight anger.

“Mids?” he whispered, careful not to startle her.

She blinked and shook her head. “The— the headache from the Poe’s still there, don’t worry about it,” she said, smiling at him. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Link stayed quiet.

“Anyways,” she changed the subject, “Have you come up with a name for your new magical sword?”

He ran through a few names in his mind until something whispered through his subconscious, almost as if the sword was introducing itself to him. “The Sword of Shadows,” he said.

“Wow.” Midna looked at him with disapproval. “That… that really sucks. I knew you were dumb, mutt, but that…”

“Then what would’ve you called it?” he shot back.

“Pointy Demonspanker.”

“No.”

“Twilight Bitchslapper.”

“No.”

“Shadow Stick of Asskicking.”

“Mids, those names are terrible.”

“It’s not my sword, so who cares?” She shrugged and turned on her heel. “Let’s go back to the pedestal and pump some magic power into your magic sword!”

After going back through the track with the magnetic board, the two reached the central chamber. Raising the Sword of Shadows, Link plunged it into the plinth.

Nothing happened.

“I guess you picked up a dud,” Midna said.

Link checked around the pedestal, finding three peculiar-shaped holes in the ground. The two noticed that there were still three closed doors without bridges surrounding the central platform, all with matching board-shaped indents. Another three rounds of spinning the board in the holes extended three more bridges, opening the rest of the doors.

Past the first door was a hallway full of quicksand with whirlpools placed throughout. Link was one hundred percent sure that if he fell in those, he would end up as a corpse with sand in his lungs rather than a bruised fallen body. Midna just stepped on the quicksand with her board and spun the centre cylinder. Discovering that the force from the spinning kept the board afloat, she made Link surf over the quicksand — to his incredible reluctance — while she levitated through so that their combined weight wouldn’t sink them.

On the other side, she picked up the board and held it like a precious toy. “This thing is incredible! I dub thee, the Magsurf!”

“Magsurf?”

“Well, it uses magnets, and surfs, even over sand! It’s a better name than the ‘Sword of Shadows,’” she said, snapping the board into her storage.

“Why not ‘The Board that Spins the Sands?’” Link teased.

Midna grumbled. “Hilarious.”

The room they walked into was completely coated in ice. From the floor to the ceiling, a thick sheet of translucent white absorbed every bit of heat from the room. Link and Midna’s breaths came out in thick plumes of fog. A rush of air came, and they skidded across the ice to dodge a sharpened icicle, letting it shatter into chunks on the floor. A figure made of pure ice, sharp parts sticking out of its body like armour, condensed the cold air in the room into another frozen spear.

Before Midna could launch a heavy-hitting shadow sphere at the monster, she was forced to dodge its javelin, the slippery floor throwing off her aim and barely splintering the leg of the ice creature. Enough for Link to make his move, he slid towards the monster and blocked a swing of a new icicle. His shield immediately became coated in a layer of frost down to the straps, chilling his arm to the bone. In retaliation, he cleaved through the monster with his new sword, in awe of how the blade cleaved through the thick ice like a knife through butter.

The creature shattered into pieces, leaving behind an ice sculpture. Link found it wasn’t very cold as he picked it up, and he had an idea of what it could be used for. The two returned to the central chamber, slotting the sculpture into one of the holes surrounding the pedestal with a click. “So the other two rooms must have the other keys,” he said to Midna. She nodded, and they took off.

Both of the hallways leading to the next rooms were lined with magnetic tracks, allowing Link to practice using the Magsurf at Midna’s insistence — “I can levitate. I’ll have to bring your sand-filled corpse back to Aryll if you don’t learn,” she had said.

The second room was a strangely pristine sanctum of marble with clean stained glass windows pouring in a kaleidoscope of bright light. In the centre, a raised platform held an empty sword pedestal. Link thrusted the Sword of Shadows into it. Nothing happened for a while, and Link felt as if he had been waiting seven years before a few skulltulas dropped from the ceiling. Midna’s quick shadow snares allowed Link to flip over the oversized armoured arachnids and stab their softer abdomens. Swallowing to push down his disgust, he pulled out a fragment from each of their curled-up corpses to form another strangely-shaped key.

Once they reached the final room, they were greeted with a narrow bridge over an abyss. Huge holes in the wall blew out unending gusts of wind that blocked them from crossing without being blown over the edge. A swarm of kargaroks flew around the centre of the bridge where no gusts blew. Link could only watch as Midna blasted the reptilian birds with her magic. When the final key dropped from one of their bodies, a strong gust from the other end of the room threw the sculpture towards them at frightening speed, nearly shattering Link’s skull if he hadn’t ducked on instinct.

On their way back to the central chamber, Link had a thought. “What was up with those rooms? Aren’t we underground? In a desert?”

Midna stretched her arms. “Freaky magic dungeons are freaky magic dungeons, and besides, we’re about to become 1,800 rupees richer, so does it really matter?”

Link couldn’t argue with that.

Now with all three keys, they slotted them into their respective holes around the sword pedestal, and Link thrusted the Sword down into it once more. The entire chamber shook, and Link and Midna struggled to find their balance as the platform descended into the abyss.

After a while, the platform came to a stop above a floor of sand. The sound of stone impacting stone echoed off the walls of the massive circular basement. The platform they stood on protruded from the sand like a huge pillar, where a magnetic track wrapped around the platform in a spiral. On the walls, a similar spiral ran along their curve. Over the sandy moat, a massive slab of a door embedded in the far wall sat closed.

Just as Midna went to fly over to the other side to investigate the door, Link pulled the Sword from the pedestal and tore her from the air as the chamber quaked violently.

“A little warning next time would be appre…” she trailed off, staring above the door with wide eyes. Link followed her gaze, and his heart nearly stopped.

A massive skull was emerging from the wall, the same way Midna and Link had entered the Banishment Grounds. A crown-like helmet made of bone was attached to its head — or rather, its body — with bony spikes protruding upwards out of the circlet. Two skeletal hands cupped its cheekbones, and its jaw was set. As soon as its entire mass came out of the wall, the skull tilted slightly downwards to look at the two standing beneath it. Glowing blood red circuits snaked around the skull and its hands, and two red spheres formed in its empty eye sockets, gazing down upon the two intruders with malicious judgement.

Still hovering high above reach, the guardian of the Banishment Grounds opened its maw and unleashed an enormous sphere of red lightning. As Midna dashed away, Link leapt to the other side of the platform, just barely dodging the blast that tore chunks of stone out of where they stood, leaving a charred and crackling crater.

Midna flew upwards to the skull, sending a shadow ball at it. The skull countered by detaching one of its hands from its face to swing at her. By releasing her levitation magic, she barely fell below the palm. The place she struck the skull had cracked slightly, but no lasting damage had been made.

While Midna weaved around on the platform, avoiding being turned into a paste by the hand slamming down over and over, Link tried to think of a way to reach the skull, as he wasn’t much use on the ground. Then he noticed the track. “Pass me the Magsurf!” he yelled to her.

“Do you even have a plan?” she shouted back.

“I might!”

Midna snapped her fingers and shot the board towards him before a skeletal palm crushed her on the ground.

Link cried out, only for Midna to pop out of the hand’s shadow onto the back. As the hand returned to its owner, Midna let out a powerful blast of shadow lightning into its eye, and the skull roared in pain. She just managed to jump back down to avoid being fried to a crisp by the retaliatory lightning ball.

Magsurf now in hand, Link jumped down into the sand below, attaching it to the tracks on the far walls, and kicked off. As he sped through the spiral to match the height of the floating skull, it noticed him, but he was faster. Link kicked off the wall, narrowly avoiding the hand that would’ve turned him into a red paste on the wall, and landed directly on the skull. Raising his blade, he thrust it into one of its eyes to the hilt.

It roared in agony and rage as it shook off its attacker. Link jumped off to reattach himself to the tracks, but the skull recovered in time to deliver a devastating strike. A skeletal hand punched him, and he flew into the sand at a violent speed. He coughed out droplets of blood, and searing pain nearly caused him to faint as his right arm landed roughly on his shield. The crackling of red lightning could barely be heard over the ringing in his ears, but something grabbed him and swam away right as the sphere blew apart the sands he had landed on.

“That was your grand plan?! Look at your arm!” Midna chastised, pushing her full body out of the shadows and placing him against a wall.

His right arm was bent in the wrong direction and the bone almost poked through his skin. “It worked, didn’t it?” he chuckled, then hissed as the sensation of a thousand knives in his arm intensified.

Midna didn’t look amused in the slightest as she placed a Red Potion into his lap. “Let me handle the other eye. Stay here, don’t get yourself killed for no reason!”

He stared at her.

“You’re following my orders, whether you like it or not. I’ll be taking this” — she picked up the Sword of Shadows — ”and you sit tight.” She dropped back into the wall’s shadow and swam upwards to meet the skull.

Was she insane? She was going to get herself killed! Link hastily downed the Red Potion, and the pain dulled to a hundred knives embedded in his arm. Gritting his teeth to bear the agony, he pushed himself to his feet. He was functionally unarmed, with only a shield in hand, but he would make do. He wasn’t letting Midna fight that thing alone.

He snapped the Magsurf back onto the far track for round two. Surfing upwards let him see Midna currently dodging two skeletal hands and red spheres as she tried to find an opening to attack.

The skull didn’t notice him. Midna did. “WHAT IN DIN’S FLAMES ARE YOU DOING?! I TOLD YOU TO STAY PUT!” she all but screamed at him.

The skull let out another ghastly roar, sending out another lightning sphere at her. She fell out of the air to dodge it, but one of its hands made contact with her, and she was thrown into a wall, crying out in pain.

At the same moment, Link landed on the skull again. He nearly fell off from the pain of his broken arm making contact, and his shield flew off his arm onto the sand below.

There went that plan.

Hanging onto its open eye socket with one hand, he released the straps of the Magsurf and twisted his body upwards to hang onto the skull with his legs instead. Link clenched his jaw, letting the adrenaline and the Red Potion coursing through his body push through the torturous sensation as he raised the Magsurf with both arms, thrusting it under the skull’s remaining eye. He bent the board backwards and up to pry the orb out like a stubborn nail. Both of them roared in painful rage as Link finally ejected its eye, and his stomach lurched when he suddenly felt as if he weighed nothing.

He held onto the bone as they both careened downwards until the skull hit the ground. Link was hurled off by the explosion, and he screamed in agony as he tumbled across the stone of the central platform.

✦ ✦

Midna slowly stood up, but the pain in her shoulder nearly forced her back down. She was ninety-nine percent sure it was broken. The skull’s other eye, by some miracle, had landed directly next to her, and she thrusted Link’s sword into it. With a final roar, the hands reaching towards her fell limp and the entire monster broke into disappearing midnight black squares. With a burst of levitation magic, she flew towards the centre platform where Link was lying on his side.

The absolute stupidity, the overwhelming insanity of his actions, his refusal to even understand the simplest of instructions, his absurd recklessness — she had so many caustic words for the empty-headed dog in front of her, but the sheer fatigue and pain on his face was also reflected in hers.

A sigh came out of her lungs so heavy it could’ve blown away all the sand in the chamber. “When… when we’re rested and healed, that’s when I tell you how much of a dumbfuck you are. Got it?”

He groaned as she downed a Red Potion. A cocktail of emotions raged inside her, all negative. She had half a mind to pick up the stupid mutt by his scruff and drag him through the now-open doorway. Kneeling down, she placed his good arm around her shoulders and lifted him up.

Past the doorway was a chamber covered in sand containing a thick black stone suspended in the air by silver chains coiling around it. In the middle, stairs went up to a platform containing a circular frame facing the stone.

Midna gestured for Link to sit down on the platform. Fortunately, the dog still had some obedience left in him. “Will you stay put this time?” she asked, summoning a roll of gauze.

Link nodded, grunting in pain as he held his arm out for Midna to bind in a makeshift sling.

“Alright. Let’s check out this room.” Link stood up when the sling was complete.

Midna instantly blocked his path. “How are you this stupid?!” she hissed. “We’re taking a break!”

“What? But—”

“No buts! Look at us!” she almost yelled, gesturing to their arms. “Just sit down for a minute and then we’ll move!”

“Mids, you’re the one who wanted this done as fast as possible!” he shot back.

“As fast and safely as possible! How fast can you move with a broken arm, huh?!”

“Midna, everyone in Ordon, they’re waiting for us to come back!”

He was unbelievable. Midna marched even closer, getting in his face. “Do you think,” she whispered, her words burning with exasperation, “they want to see you coming back in a body bag, every single one of your bones shattered? What happened when you rushed? Your arm broke, and so did my shoulder.”

“I was trying to help you!”

“Help me by knowing your limits.” She gritted her teeth. “Take. A. Break.”

Link huffed. “Alright, you’ve made your—” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes going wide as his gaze landed on the frame next to them, holding a plate with elaborate details on its back. He went around to the front and inhaled sharply.

“Did you not hear a word…” her voice fell silent as she followed him to look at the front of the plate — a circle of sheen black glass, its surface etched with white rings of strange symbols.

Midna was just as shocked as he was. “That’s a…”

“…Mirror of Twilight,” Link breathed out in awe.

But how?! The things were all destroyed before Midna was even conceived! Then again, that guardian likely wasn’t a creation of the Royal Family…

“We can go to Hyrule with this!” Link said excitedly.

Midna felt the exact opposite. “Why would we want to go to Hyrule of all places?” she asked coldly.

“Mids, this might be the last Mirror of Twilight in the world! Both worlds! There’s a whole other world waiting for us on the other side!”

Midna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Link, listen to me. We’re going to rest, I’m going to warp us out, and we tell Oriana. We are not messing with yet another ancient artifact. And we are certainly not going to Hyrule,” she said, barely able to keep her voice as calm as possible.

“We should see if it even works in the first place. There and back, a simple test. We’ll be able to see Hyrule for a bit and then go back!”

“No!” she shouted. “Get the sand out of your ears, and listen! Do not touch the goddess-damned Mirror!”

The idiot didn’t get the sand out of his ears, and he walked up to the Mirror. Before Midna could stop him, a soft ringing sound resonated throughout the chamber. She could do nothing but watch as the chains around the stone shone, letting out a shrill hum before dissolving like dust. The chamber shook when the black chunk dropped into the ground, sending a wave of sand throughout the room. The rings slowly rose from the Mirror until they embedded themselves on the stone’s surface. A white Triforce symbol spun out from the Mirror and impacted the centre of the rings. Glowing white Twilit glyphs surrounding the rings snaked outwards across the stone’s surface before the rings seemed to go into the stone itself, spinning in an alternating clockwise and counterclockwise pattern. A transparent stairway, outlined in white Twilit symbols, extended outwards from the platform into the illusory hole.

Before Midna could tear Link a new one, the sound of bones rattling stole her attention, accompanied by the hums and chimes of someone warping into the room. As black squares coalesced into a mosaic of lines surrounding a floating hole in the ceiling, Stalfos had risen in the hundreds. Why were there so many in the Mirror Chamber? Even more portals appeared above and glowed red instead of the usual turquoise.

Strange creatures poured out of them, coloured as dark as the midnight sky. Crawling on all fours, round stone masks, etched with a segmented circle design, covered their faces. Sharp claws extended from their spindly fingers. Even darker thick lines wrapped around their bodies like veins, and the circuits on their chests glowed a sickening red. Raising themselves to their hind legs, they let out a horrific screech, the sound threatening to split Midna’s head open.

And then they charged up the stairs, Stalfos right behind them. From behind her, Midna could hear the sound of Link unsheathing his sword.

“Link, don’t! We need to run, now!” she yelled.

He ignored her and rushed forward to fight the shadow beasts. Midna tried to reach out to him to yank him backwards, but she was too exhausted. Ducking and weaving through their swings, he managed to cut down two of them.

The beasts screeched again. Almost immediately, the monsters Link had killed rose again. One of them punched his broken arm, making him scream and double over in pain. Another followed up by grabbing his head and slamming it into the ground, knocking him unconscious.

“LINK!” Midna screamed. This was it. They were dead. Midna couldn’t warp, and there was only one hope left for them now. She used the last of her magic to snare the beast about to claw Link to death, and reached out to him, ignoring the stabbing pain in her shoulder, no longer numbed by the potion. She pulled his body backwards and only managed to get away with a sharp rake of claws to her calf. His weight bore down on her considerably, and tears built in her eyes from the pain, but she couldn’t — she wouldn’t — abandon him. They made a promise to each other all those years ago, even if he was trying to make that promise as difficult to fulfil as possible. Pulling him past the transparent stairway, she used the last bits of her strength to hurl the two of them into the portal created by the Mirror of Twilight.

Midna felt as if she had been sucked into a tube, and she screamed, limbs thrown about, until she popped out of the other end onto a pile of sand. Just moments later, another pine green mass hit the sand beside her. She would’ve relaxed, if it weren’t for the sound of inhuman screeching echoing its way from the black stone behind her.

She didn’t even know where the thought had come from, but she plucked one of the tears streaming down her face and threw it towards the Mirror of Twilight in front of her. She watched, vision flickering on the verge of passing out, as her tear floated through the air and impacted the Mirror. Immediately, the surface cracked, splitting the Mirror until it exploded into millions of tiny fragments flying outwards, glinting in the light like a firework celebrating her continued life. The shrieking stopped abruptly as if a lid had been placed on top of the boiling pot of death behind her. A severed black arm with clawed fingers dropped onto the sand.

“See you later,” she said bitterly to everything she once knew. The last thing she saw before her blackening vision finally came for her were blue sun-lit skies.

✦ ✦

The goat bleated unhappily as Link made what felt like his five-millionth attempt at getting a constant stream of milk out. At least this one was patient and didn’t threaten to gouge his organs out.

“You’ve got to be more gentle with her, Link.” a gruff voice said from behind him.

Link opened his mouth, but still, no coherent words would come out. The added frustration made him sign angrily. “I’m trying, Fadel! I’ve massaged her, cooed to her, but she’s giving me nothing!”

“Goats are smart, you know? She can sense your impatience, and it’s rubbing off on her. Link, I’m sure you’ll get your voice back. You’ve got to take your time with these things, like with everything else,” the farmer said.

“I know, I know,” Link signed, trying to relax his face.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you off early today, but that’s only because Midna’s coming back. Hopefully, you’ll be calm enough tomorrow, alright?” Fadel walked over to take Link’s bucket from him.

“Thank you, Fadel!” Link signed eagerly, and leapt over the fence towards Ordon’s front gates.

Midna was coming back today! She had left for quite a while — it had been years since he’d last seen even a glimpse of his best friend!

He slowed down and stopped as he pondered his own thoughts. Best friend? Were they still best friends? She had left rather abruptly after… after…

Link leaned against a tree, swallowing down the bile pooling in his throat. He took deep breaths to calm himself down from the horrific images that had burst into his mind. He went mute to stop talking about it, but it only made things worse as he couldn’t stop thinking about it, even years afterwards. Time had only marginally dulled the pain.

He slapped himself. No, no! Of course they were still best friends, and Midna wouldn’t want to come back to see him like this! He had to be strong, to atone for his sins make the little kids happy! Doing his best to put a smile on his face, he continued walking down the dirt path.

A pale blue face and fiery orange hair stopped him dead in his tracks again. It had been so long, and she had grown so much taller. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and even from a distance, Link found that she had grown quite attractive. He pinched himself to rid himself of his hormonal teenage thoughts. She was his best friend, what was he thinking?

He tried to call out to her, but still, it was almost impossible to speak. Almost. “M-Mids,” he croaked, a voice so hoarse it could barely be called a whisper.

Somehow, she heard it, and Midna turned to face him. She was back, after all these years! Link ran up to her, his face brightening, and he brought his hands up. Even if he couldn’t speak to her aloud, he had so much to tell her and—

Link froze as a chill went down his entire body. He couldn’t even open his mouth, and his fingers refused to even sign a single character. Midna was staring straight at him, crimson and cerulean eyes bearing not even the slightest hint of warmth.

“Vesper,” she snarled.

An ache in his right arm and head forced Link awake with a groan. He hadn’t dreamt of the past in ages — thankfully, as all of them had tended to be nightmares. At least Midna’s hateful glare, even if it hurt, was a lot better than the more painful dreams.

He focused his eyes on the sandstone ceiling— sandstone?! Link bolted upright, smacking his right arm on the headboard of the bed he was lying on. Despite his groans of pain, it was much more manageable than before, when… when those shadow monsters attacked. Panic began to settle in again, until he realized he was in a room of some kind, curtains over the window drawn and door closed. Beside him, a stand held a bag of blue liquid, draining into a long thin tube with a needle at the end coiled up and placed on the stand. Looking down, he realized that his arm wasn’t broken anymore; only a dull ache remained. He let out a sigh of relief — Midna had gotten him out. At least they were safe, but where was she?

The door to the room creaked open, and he had to cover his eyes from the light pouring in, brighter than all the Sols combined. A tall figure made its way inside and closed the door. Link scrambled back. He glanced around the room for his sword. In the corner, it laid sheathed, and he—

“At peace, young voe. I am not your enemy,” a deep female voice said, in a language that was not Twilit.

Voe? Link turned his head back to the person who had just entered his room. A tall muscular woman with brown skin and red hair looked at him, her green eyes examining his sling.

“Sav’aaq,” Link responded. At least he thought it was the middle of the day, considering the brightness outside.

The Gerudo lady raised her eyebrows. “You can speak Gerudo?”

Link quickly recognized the language — Hylian. He didn’t know why a Gerudo in Twilaea would speak Hylian, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. “My uncle,” Link said in Hylian, not knowing exactly what to call Ardin, “is Gerudo. He taught me the language.”

The woman nodded. “I see. How is your arm feeling?”

He stretched his arm to try and get the ache out. “It’s much better than before.” He looked around. “Where’s Midna?”

“The Twili vai the Chief’s son found you with? She is fine, currently outside doing shopping.”

Midna, shopping? Were they back at the outpost? Chief’s son? “What… exactly happened?” he asked.

“You were asleep for about a week while your broken arm and concussion healed,” she said.

“A week?” Link looked over to the blue bag on the stand. Blue Potion, while significantly more effective in healing injuries than its red variant, had the side effect of knocking the user out for a long time, depending on the severity of the injury. It’s why Link and Midna preferred the weaker red for their ‘adventures.’

The Gerudo nodded, and continued with her explanation of how the Chief of the Gerudo’s son had found them unconscious in the ‘Arbiter’s Grounds,’ and brought them to her clinic to recover.

Just as she finished, the door creaked open.

“Romah. I’d like to talk to Link. Privately,” Midna said to the Gerudo in Hylian, a harsh sting present in her voice.

Romah looked between the two hesitantly, before closing the door behind her as she left.

Link tried to speak first. “Mids—”

“Is your brain disconnected from the rest of your body?” she asked mockingly, switching back to Twilit.

“Wha—”

“No, seriously. Do you ever think before you act?”

Link kept struggling for words, but Midna wouldn’t let him talk.

“Do you not see the garbage heap you’ve thrown us into? Where we are?” she said, anger slowly breaking through her forced calm.

That was obvious, wasn’t it? “Well, we’re still somewhere by the Fasira Sand Islands, right?”

Letting out an exasperated huff, Midna yanked back the curtains. Link had to block his vision again from the bright light, but once his eyes adjusted, he could see the sky outside.

It was coloured a bright blue illuminated by a single large ball of light, unassisted by any supports.

Oh no.

“We’re in… Hyrule,” he said, shock slowing his words.

Midna snorted. “At least your eyes are working. How come you’re not so eager to see your little Hyrule now?”

Link’s brain was still trying to readjust to… everything. “Why are we in Hyrule?”

“Because,” she said, voice steadily growing harsher, “After you touched the goddess-damned Mirror, after those monsters came from nowhere, I had to pull you through the Mirror and break it so we didn’t die! Because you couldn’t listen, we’re stuck in Hyrule!”

“I did listen to you! I didn’t touch the Mirror!” he said, offended.

“Like hell you didn’t! It just happened to turn on when you looked at it, huh?!”

“You’re the one that broke the Mirror! You’re the one who got us stuck in Hyrule!” Link countered angrily.

“Oh, so I’m in the wrong, am I? I’m in the wrong for saving your dumbass when you kept fighting while injured?!”

“I was trying to save you!” As soon as those words left his mouth, Midna’s expression grew angrier.

“Save me? Save me? I’m not a prissy little princess waiting for her knight in shining armour!” she snapped. “You know what happened when you tried to ‘save me?’ You made everything infinitely worse!”

“You were going to die against that thing!”

“And you almost killed both of us anyway! Now look where we are! You knew exactly why I wanted nothing to do with Hyrule! You knew exactly what they’ve done to us! You knew, AND YET YOU STILL USED THE FUCKING MIRROR!” she screamed her last words, grabbing fistfuls of her hair.

Link couldn’t meet her eyes. He didn’t want to face that enraged glare, and any words at this point wouldn’t appease her.

That was still the wrong move.

“Staying silent, are we?” Midna laughed harshly. “You think that if you say nothing, ignoring everything around you, then everything will be fine, just like when—”

That was a step too far. “STOP IT!” Link roared. Shoulders heaving, he had to take a few deep breaths before he could speak again. “You’ve crossed a line, Mids—”

“You don’t have the right to call me ‘Mids’ after what you did, Link,” she snapped, but her voice lost some of its venom.

He had it up to here with her and her pettiness. “If you hate me so much, Midna,” he growled, “Why didn’t you leave me to die with the Mirror?”

Link’s breath hitched when Midna’s face scrunched up further, but her eyes filled with hurt instead. “Do you really think I’m that heartless?”

He lowered his head again. “I’m sorry—”

Midna opened the door to walk out, but before she left, she turned back to Link. “If you’re really sorry, then do as I say and help us get back home.” She slammed the door shut after leaving the room.

Exiting the room into the lobby of the clinic, he had tried to hand Romah some rupees for her treatment, but she pushed them away. “No, thank you. You should thank the Chief’s son for finding you instead. Besides, my conscience wouldn’t allow me to leave you two out in the sands as Molduga food!” she laughed. But Link insisted, and Romah acquiesced.

“So you can thank some Hyrulean for doing her job like she’s supposed to, but not the person who actually saved your life?” Midna snarked.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you, Midna,” Link said sincerely, bowing his head.

She clearly hadn’t been expecting that, as a disbelieving look appeared on her face, and she turned on her heel with a huff.

As the two of them made their way past the lobby, Link couldn’t help but notice Midna’s way of dress. Gone were her tunic and boots. The only shadowskin that covered her body wrapped around her chest like a Gerudo top, ran from her hips to just above her knees like shorts, and covered her feet like socks, revealing blue skin and scales on her arms. Her robe was still wrapped around her shoulders, but it hung loose.

He didn’t see why she needed to dress so lightly until he went outside.

The Light Realm’s sun bore down on him, its rays heating his body more than all the Sols combined could do. He snapped a canteen into his hands — was it just him or did it reform slower than usual? — and poured it over his head, cooling him down before he felt like he would literally burst into flames.

“Try not to get sunburnt,” Midna said.

Link, confused, furrowed his eyebrows. “The sun can burn you?”

“I thought the same thing. Your clothes are too thick, so we’re meeting the Chief’s son at a boutique. You’re not much use if you burn up,” she said.

That made Link feel slightly better, although still sluggish from the heat. His aching arm and slight headache only worsened under the sun’s glare. The Queen of a New Dawn was given the moniker because not only had she started a golden age for Twilaea, but also because it was said she had given the Twili the ability to walk under the Light Realm’s sun. Link wished she had added ‘comfortably’ to that sentence.

“Chief’s son? Who is he, anyways?” Link asked.

Midna’s tone dropped. “You’ll see.”

The place he was in was known as Kara Kara, inside the Gerudo Province of Hyrule in the very southwest of the nation. A huge oasis was situated in the city’s centre, and from its crystal-clear waters, the city built itself up around it. The huge branches of palm trees held big round green fruits from them, underneath their massive bunches of leaves that provided shade for people swimming in the oasis or walking around. Stalls set up around the oasis’ shore displayed items of all kinds, from hand-sewn clothes, fruits and vegetables, to tools and accessories needed to traverse the harsh desert. Merchants yelled out special deals towards tourists and citizens alike, of huge discounts or rare items found nowhere else. One even stopped Link in the middle of the street to buy a sapphire necklace for his ‘lady friend.’

“You should’ve bought it. Maybe it was a magic gem to warp us home,” Midna said, but her sarcasm was tinged with malice.

Link didn’t know how to respond, but silence wouldn’t help. So in his infinite wisdom, he asked a question that was probably even worse. “Midna, are… are we still friends?”

She stopped and turned to face him. “What we are is two people stranded in another world. Does being all buddy-buddy get us home faster?”

It might, but if Link spoke his thoughts he would aggravate her further.

“That’s right. It doesn’t,” she spat. “So what you need to do is shut up and listen to me for once in your goddess-damned life.”

“Midna, why are we even working together if you’re going to act like this the whole time?” Link asked.

“Working together?” she scoffed. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. You” — she pointed a finger at him — “are working for me, cleaning up the mess you made.”

“Then help me!” Link shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Just calm down and—”

“Calm down?!” Midna yelled back. “We don’t have time to calm down and chat over tea about our feelings! Don’t you care even the slightest about the people waiting for us back home?!”

Link threw his head back, gripping his hair. What is Aryll going to think when her brother doesn’t come back? What will Ardin think when the boy he loved like a nephew never comes home? What is Epona going to think when her owner all but disappeared? Link was going to bring the rest of the Princess’ reward back to Ordon, but now…

But now the woman in front of him was making that impossible. “What makes you think I don’t?!” Link snapped. “But going at each other’s throats will get us nowhere! Midna, just listen to me!”

“Listen to you?! Listening to you was how we ended up in this mess in the first place!”

“Then go home by yourself if I’m such a burden!”

Midna’s expression shifted into a deathly calm. “Maybe I will, Link,” she said, her tone a frigid chill. “It seems like I’m the only one who actually wants to, anyway.”

She turned on her heel, and her legs began to sink into the shadows.

“Midna! No!” Link shouted, dashing forward. Just as her entire body sank into the darkness, he tensed an arm and plunged it into the shadows. The feeling of tar wrapping around the limb slowed him greatly, but his hand managed to grab a wrist.

“Link. Let me go,” Midna said from the shadows, her voice resonating all around him.

“Stop making this so difficult!”

“Who put us in a difficult situation to begin with?”

Link sighed, exasperated beyond belief. “Fine, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry isn’t enough.”

“Then what do you want me to do?!”

“I doubt you’ll even listen to what I tell you, but whatever. Go to Naboris. I’ll be waiting, if you actually care about getting home.”

“Of course I care about—” Link’s words were cut short when Midna slipped out of his grasp. With a frustrated shout, he pulled his arm back out of the shadows to shake off the fatigue of pushing through the absurdly viscous substance.

He prepared to go after her, but he immediately realized that he was hopelessly lost, having relied on Midna to guide him through the city. With her speed in the shadows, she could already be anywhere — he needed to get to Naboris, whatever that was, now. Only when he stood up did he realize the crowd gathering around him, where people of all races were looking at him with pity, shock, or barely stifled laughter. His first day (awake) in Hyrule and he had already made a complete fool out of himself.

“Get moving! Stop blocking the streets, the drama show’s over!” a deep voice boomed in Hylian, and the crowd began to scatter as the voice’s owner, a very tall Gerudo man, pushed his way to Link. “Some lover’s quarrel that was,” he said after the crowd dispersed.

“What am I, a circus act to you?” Link hissed.

“No. Simply an observation, Link,” he responded calmly, a smooth bass that simultaneously soothed and unsettled Link.

Link jerked backwards. How did this Hyrulean know his name? His hands flew towards his sword as he examined the Gerudo.

Now that Link got a better look at him, ‘very tall’ hardly did him justice — Link barely made it to his chest. He had thought Gerudo women were tall, considering they generally stood above Midna’s six-foot-and-a-bit frame, but this man was well over seven feet tall, and Link gave that as a conservative estimate. The giant of a Gerudo could easily pick him up and sling him over his shoulders like a sack of pumpkins, which was something that made Link grip his sword tighter. It also made him feel funny down there, not that that was a thought he would ever vocalize.

His maroon hair was tied back with a golden hair accessory into a ponytail going down to his back, and a beard covered his chiselled jawline and chin. Under his long black robe with red lapels, his black chestplate, covered partly by a white cloth bearing the red and green mazes of lines and squares customary of traditional Gerudo designs, made him even more imposing.

“Who are you?” Link asked uneasily.

“My apologies for startling you. My name is Ganondorf Dragmire, son of the Chief of the Gerudo, Urbosa Makeela. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He smiled at Link while holding out a fingerless-gloved hand.

Ah. So that was how he knew. Link grasped his hand, and Ganondorf gave a firm handshake that seemed to radiate power from the motion alone. Despite his friendly demeanour, his sharp amber eyes seemed to bore into Link, almost as if he was searching into his soul.

Link had to take a moment before speaking, intimidated by Ganondorf’s presence. “Y-yes,” he coughed, “Link Vesper. Nice to meet you too, Dragmire.” Then he remembered. “Oh, right! Thank you— sarqso for saving me and Midna!” he quickly added.

Ganondorf laughed. “There is no need for thanks; any voe or vai would have done the same! And please, call me Ganondorf. All people in Gerudo Province are friends, no?”

“Friends, huh?” Link muttered under his breath.

Ganondorf turned his head in the direction Midna had left. “Hm. It appears Midna has…”

“Abandoned me?” Link offered.

“I would’ve said taken a temporary respite, but I suppose that works too. What has she told you so far?”

“Only that— Wait. Why are you the one asking this? What has she told you?”

“Do you two only answer questions with questions?” Ganondorf raised an eyebrow.

Link glared at him.

He sighed, lowering his voice. “Your entire Mirror of Twilight conundrum. Less so that she told me, more so that I found you two right after the Mirror broke. But also that you need help getting back to Twilaea.”

“You’re… willing to help me?” Link asked, a bit skeptical.

“Abandoning you in an unfamiliar world” — he coughed — “Sorry, environment, would be incredibly dishonourable. I have my pride as a Gerudo to upkeep, my friend,” Ganondorf responded.

Dishonourable indeed, but it wasn’t as if Midna, or himself, really, were honourable people. But at least someone was willing to assist him. One ally lost, one ally gained, he supposed. “Alright. Midna said something about a ‘Naboris,’ but I have no idea what that means,” Link said.

“Ah, yes. It is the capital city of Gerudo Province, where I planned to have you and Midna receive an audience with Lady Urbosa to assist you in your journey.”

“Great! So, are you able to take me there?”

Ganondorf glanced to the side for a moment, before meeting Link’s eyes with a grimace. “I can… although there is one problem. Your appearance.”

Link’s mouth stretched thin. The shade from the stores and the palm trees made him forget about the deadly glare of the Light Realm’s sun. “Oh, right. You were supposed to meet us— well, me now, at a clothing store. I need clothes for the desert heat, right?”

“Something along those lines, yes.”

✦ ✧

“My, such a pretty face! You’re lucky you can’t get into Naboris, or the vai would be all over you like flies on fruit! Or do you prefer voe?” the boutique owner hummed, then looked over Link’s forearms. “Oh my, those muscles! The face of a dashing young gentleman, but the body of a gallant knight! Have you got somebody wrapped around your finger yet?”

Link was completely overwhelmed. He was still trying to recover from the flashiness of the store, with its light blue, pink, and white walls, and the sparkling eyes of the tanned Hylian woman in front of him made it worse. “N-no, uh…” he stammered, swerving his gaze to the ceiling. Why was a giant blue shark plush toy suspended up there?

Luckily, Ganondorf spoke up and saved Link from further mortification. “Vilia. Please.”

Vilia drew back and huffed. “Fiiiine. I’ve got some new fabrics for the Desert Voe set, let me see…”

“He needs to get into Naboris,” Ganondorf interrupted.

Vilia looked genuinely surprised, but Link could not understand the meaning behind his words. “What? He doesn’t really set off my trans-ponder.”

“To speak with the Chief, Vilia,” Ganondorf said.

“But you’re her son! Can’t you just ask Lady Urbosa to—”

“I cannot change the old laws of Naboris,” he said, tone growing ever more commanding.

Confused, Link spoke up. “Sorry, but what are we here for exactly? Aren’t I just getting clothes for the heat?”

Vilia tilted her head. “What, you don’t know?”

Ganondorf crossed his arms. “He isn’t from… around here. Not everyone has knowledge of our traditional laws. You see, Link, Naboris does not allow voe into its borders at all — only vai can enter. You must understand, these laws are sacred to the Gerudo.”

Link still didn’t get it. “So… we’re here to get me to look like a Gerudo?”

Ganondorf sighed. “It may be uncomfortable for you, but it is necessary to enter Naboris.”

“That’s not it,” Link said.

“What?”

“Just not my style, you know? The veil, the top, the pants, just not my thing. I prefer shirts, tunics, and trousers, thanks,” he said.

Now it was Ganondorf’s turn to be confused. “So because they aren’t your style… that’s why you don’t want to wear vai’s clothes?”

Vai’s clothes? “Clothes have a gender?”

Vilia looked delighted. “My, such progressive worldviews you Twili have! Well, for what you want, unfortunately, that’s not my specialty.”

“Link, if you want to enter Naboris, you’re going to have to look like a vai, and here,” in Hyrule was left unspoken by Ganondorf, “that means wearing what vai usually wear.”

A few moments in gaudy clothes was worth it if it helped him and Midna get home. The sight of a plush chair facing a vanity mirror overloaded with cosmetics made Link sigh, and Vilia giggled at how pretty of a vai he was going to make.

✦ ✧

“You look very beautiful,” Ganondorf said. His even tone made Link wonder whether his words were polite or sarcastic.

He chose sarcastic. “I’m feeling like the Princess of Hyrule,” he scoffed. What was her name anyways? They tended to be all named the same. Selder? Zaldi? Hilda?

“I would rather you not feel like her,” Ganondorf chuckled, although his voice gained a nearly imperceptible bite to it. “Regardless, your appearance as it is now should allow you access to Naboris.”

Link looked over his outfit. He wore a frilly baby blue Gerudo top, exposing his toned abdomen, but his arms were covered by green detached sleeves, and a pine green veil covered his face. Black baggy pants with Gerudo designs stopped just above his calf, and green sandals replaced his boots. Gold bangles wrapped around his armpits, ankles, and wrists. He ran his fingers through his hair, now styled in voluminous curls, held in place with a circlet on his forehead and a headdress.

It was surprisingly practical despite its flashiness — the light cloth protected him from the sun while keeping him cool, and his curls let air flow better over his head. Even the makeup had a purpose — the longer, thicker eyelashes would protect against the sand and sun, and the foundation and concealer would defend against the harsh rays. He didn’t know why he needed the highlighter, the green eyeliner, or his eyebrows plucked, though.

If he was to be one hundred percent honest, he looked absolutely amazing. Even if this happened to be ‘vai’s clothing’, Twilaeans weren’t people who adhered to gender roles. In the past, anyways, as cultural exchange with Hyrule had changed that a bit. Probably another reason why Midna hated this country so much.

But Link wasn’t here to win beauty pageants; he was here to not be here. “Right. So let’s get moving.”

“Is Midna not going to be joining us?”

“I’m pretty sure she left for Naboris already.”

“What?” Surprise flooded Ganondorf’s voice. “She doesn’t even know how to ride a sand seal! She’ll get herself killed, that idiot woman—”

Link clenched his jaw. “Don’t call her that.”

Ganondorf looked down at him incredulously. “You’re willing to defend her honour, even after the vitriol she spat at you, and after she left you?”

That was a great question, to be honest. Right now, there was no reason for him to defend Midna at all. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and he therefore had no obligations to her; the Mirror was not his fault. But Link still cared about her needed her help to get back to Twilaea.

That, and she had saved his life. “I owe that ‘idiot woman’ a debt, Ganondorf. And we both need to get back home.”

Chapter Text

The sun continued to glare down on Ganondorf, his robes at least giving him some solace from the burning rays. While Patrick continued to trudge on, his blubber-filled body cruising through the sand, Ganondorf wiped his brow. He, like all Gerudo, had since long adapted to the harsh sunlight of the Gerudo Desert, but today was unnaturally hot.

Only a couple hundred metres to the ancient ruins of the Arbiter’s Grounds were left to go. Long ago, the Grounds towered over the desert as great sandstone pillars supporting a coliseum, with an interior of a sprawling labyrinth. Made legendary from the Hero-King of Twilight’s quest, it was a grand landmark of Gerudo Province — that is, to any outsider. To the Gerudo and the Sheikah, it was a cursed place.

What was left were crumbling sandstone arches and broken pillars jutting out of the sand, withering away like the pages of old history books. A fitting death for a place with so much blood marking its walls, but if Ganondorf had his way the Grounds would be blown into fragments smaller than sand.

Patrick barked in fear as the ground shook violently, nearly upturning the seal. Ganondorf’s stature and training allowed him to stay grounded, but he had to brush out his beard from the grains of sand pelting his face. The drone of magic, a woman’s cry, infernal shrieking, and glass shattering, in that order, echoed through the Grounds. Once Ganondorf unhitched himself from Patrick, he let him relax on the sand.

Right in the centre of the Grounds, sand funnelled into a large depression. The top of the ancient coliseum stuck out slightly, somewhat excavated by whatever had formed the hole. The sloped weathered roof of the coliseum allowed him to slide down into the giant crater. Once his armoured boots touched the bottom, an impossible sight greeted him.

In the centre of the crater, weathered steps led to a platform, housing a metal frame that held nothing, not even the smallest sliver of glass. It faced a gigantic chunk of black stone that rose well past the crater’s edge. Glowing white glyphs faded off its surface, where a hole of rotating rings collapsed in on themselves and vanished.

Although Ganondorf had never seen one in the flesh, it was obvious what it was. A Mirror of Twilight? Here of all places? Any other Hyrulean would take it as a sign of a restored connection between Hyrule and Twilaea. To a Gerudo, a Mirror of Twilight in the Arbiter’s Grounds was nothing more than another insult from the goddesses. His only solace was that the Mirror had already been destroyed. He almost left for Naboris to report to the Chief, but the sound of groaning caught his attention.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Two bodies, one Hylian boy — no, his ears were black and lined with turquoise, he was a Twylian — and one Twili girl, laid unconscious in the sand. Translucent white glass surrounded them in tiny broken bits, sparkling in the sunlight. Thoughts ran through Ganondorf’s brain like a derailed locomotive. Should he leave them there? Should he kill them for putting that damn Mirror— no, that was a cruel thought. If he was the Chief’s second-in-command, he had better act like one!

Ragged breathing came out of both bodies, easing Ganondorf’s mind slightly — although they required medical attention immediately. The boy’s right arm was wrapped in a shoddy sling. A sword, coloured like the darkest midnight with glyphs glowing a faint blue, laid in the sand to his left. Lying near the black stone was a black severed arm. Ganondorf stashed it away, intending to take a closer look once everybody was safe.

He noticed that the boy’s head was bleeding, and so was the girl’s cut leg. His pouch had bandages which he used to patch up their wounds. Confident in his basic first aid, he carefully picked up the boy, strapped his sword back into its sheath, slung him over his shoulder, then bent down to do the same to the girl.

She must have also broken something, because when he tried to lift her she screamed, causing Ganondorf to pause.

Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing foggy red and blue eyes, only barely managing to focus long enough to match his own amber ones. “Wha… who the…” was all she mumbled out before sleep grasped her once more. Gingerly, Ganondorf put her over his other shoulder, then climbed back out towards Patrick.

The sand seal was still slightly spooked, causing Ganondorf to struggle as he withdrew an extra bundle of rope from the bag attached to the seal. He tied the boy to Patrick’s back and used the rest of the rope to secure the taller girl around his shoulders. Once his waist was reattached to Patrick’s harness, Ganondorf set his sights towards Kara Kara.

✦

When the sun dropped below the cliffs surrounding Gerudo Desert, not only would the stars come out, but so would a deathly chill. A small rock overhang allowed him and his companions to rest. While his size and natural resistance allowed him to survive the cold, these two would not fare so well. Grabbing a bundle of dry sticks and a blanket from Patrick’s bag, who was lazily eating a palm fruit by the side, Ganondorf started a fire and laid the blanket over his two unconscious patients. Letting out a deep exhale, he sat down and placed his back against the sand seal. There was still a distance left to Kara Kara, and if these two didn’t wake up soon, they would shrivel up like dried wildberries.

Ganondorf took out a bottle of Red Potion from his pouch, but as soon as he uncorked the bottle, Patrick barked in alarm, and the uncomfortably familiar sound of crackling shook the desert air. He should have expected this.

A large battle axe clicked as the straps holding it to Ganondorf’s back came undone, and he let it bear against two large humanoid lizards, steel armour plates covering much of their striped yellow and black backs. Bulging eye sockets held small red irises glaring at him, and on top of their snouts sat a curved horn, glowing white from the bolts of electricity arcing along its length. Metal spears were clasped in their scaly hands, where short sparks jumped from their jagged prongs.

Ganondorf ran to the side, drawing the Electric Lizalfos away. One of them leapt into the air and slammed its weapon into the ground. Ganondorf jumped back in time, allowing the electricity to pass harmlessly into the sand. Ganondorf faked an attack, and it reared back its head. He stepped back to allow a dome of electricity emanating from the Lizalfos’ horn to light up the air before he roared in fury and rushed in to decapitate it.

The other Lizalfos came in to avenge its fallen comrade, to no avail as Ganondorf doubled back with the blunt back of his axe, using its mass and the momentum created from an overhead swing to bend his attacker’s spear only degrees away from a perfect right angle. The Lizalfos attempted to leap backwards, but Ganondorf stepped forward with a haymaker to the snout and felt the monster’s bone fracture. He followed through by slamming his arm bracers into the lizard’s charged horn, feeling a small tingle in his forearm as electricity discharged into the black leather protectors. An angry yell in tandem with a swing of the axe once again gave the Gerudo a Lizalfos head for a trophy.

His victory was short-lived, as something scaly wrapped tightly around his leg. Ganondorf growled as he tried to shake off the tail — he should’ve known there was another Lizalfos lying in wait. Camouflaged as a mound of sand, it leapt from the ground, its stripes illuminated by moonlight and electricity. He managed to grab the shaft of the spear before it could puncture his face, but the Lizalfos opened its maw, and a slimy tongue grabbed his arm to reel him back in. He managed to deliver a heavy kick to the Lizalfos with his free leg, but the lizard had already reared its head. In that split second, his muscles tensed as he anticipated for the sound of crackling to climax into a lightning strike.

Instead, all he heard was a single snap. Tendrils of black and orange erupting from a black circle on the ground immobilized the Lizalfos’ body. Not a second later, a ball made of orange and black lightning slammed into its back, overcoming its natural electrical resistance and causing it to spasm on the ground. Ganondorf took the chance to slam his boot down on its skull, letting bone shatter and purple blood splatter over the sand. The sound of wheezing drew his gaze back up. The Twili girl had her hands on her knees, and her breaths grew weak as the glowing turquoise markings on her arms flickered and grew dim.

The Red Potion he had left uncorked had spilt half of its contents, but Ganondorf picked it up to hand to the girl. She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicion written all over her face. Her expression quickly shifted into a pained grimace as she grasped her shoulder. Seeing no other alternative, she picked up the potion, gave it a thorough examination, then downed it in one gulp.

Her glare lingered on him for a few moments, then she stepped backwards to examine her friend. She knelt down to place two fingers under his jaw and gave a relieved sigh. Her arms flickered again when she snapped, and black squares appeared out of thin air. There must have been something wrong because her eyes widened and she looked over her arms. An angry look crossed her face when the black squares finally formed into a Red Potion. The bottle uncorked with a pop, and she tilted the boy’s head up to bring it to his lips.

Alarm swept over Ganondorf. “Wait!” he yelled. “He’s unconscious! If you—”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she snarled, before slowly tipping the bottle, letting the boy unconsciously drink small sips of the medicine at a time. Once the bottle was empty, she rolled him over onto his side with her good arm, and covered him with the blanket. She tried to stand up, but she hissed in pain, and decided to crawl over to the wall of the overhang, warming herself up by the fire. Meeting Ganondorf’s eyes, she smirked. “We’re even now,” she said, gesturing to the crushed Lizalfos, then her bandaged calf.

Ganondorf had bigger concerns than petty debts. “Who are you?” he asked.

“No ‘thank you for saving my life’? Actually, who are you?” she responded, eyes narrowed. Her Hylian was tinged with an accent — one common to her race of twilight dwellers. Melodic, yet harsh like the beauty and cold of the setting sun, she spoke with a lilt that dropped and raised the tone of syllables, almost at random.

And she had answered his question with a question. A nuisance, but he would answer. “Ganondorf Dragmire. Son of the Chief of the Gerudo. And you are?”

She didn’t respond at first. He could almost make out the gears turning behind her eyes if he focused. “Midna,” she said after a few moments.

“That’s all?”

Midna laughed dryly. “Sorry, I’m a chaste woman. I don’t reveal everything on the first date.”

It was a terrible time and place for jokes. “You’re from Twilaea, aren’t you? Came through that Mirror of Twilight? I need to know more before I can trust you.”

Her eyes steeled. “Trust me? The only thing you can trust, Dragmire, is that the feeling is mutual,” she said, voice now thick with irritation. “And what do you mean, from Twilaea? Where else would I…” she trailed off as she moved her gaze upwards.

Her eyes widened as it slowly began to dawn on her what exactly she was looking at — a black sky brightened by the moon and the stars. Her tongue switched, murmuring what were probably curses in a language with words similar to Gerudo, but unintelligibly different.

“Hyrule. You are in Hyrule,” Ganondorf said.

“No fucking shit!” Midna snapped. “Oh goddesses, the Mirror,” she said frantically, running her fingers through her orange hair. More curses came out of her mouth, again in what he assumed to be Twilit, this time in near hysteria rather than withdrawn shock. Clambering up from her sitting position, she crawled over to Ganondorf on one arm in a frenzy and grabbed his robe. “We’ve got to get back to the Banishment Grounds! Take me there now!” she demanded.

As soon as he began to move his hand over the one grabbing him, she recoiled back. “We need to get your friend proper medical attention first. Have you forgotten?” he said.

Midna clenched her jaw. “Right, Link. How long will it take to get to the nearest doctor?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You forgot about your friend’s wellbeing quite easily.”

“Friend?” Midna laughed bitterly. “A more fitting description would be ‘my debtor.’”

The care she put on the unconscious Twylian did not match how one would treat a simple debtor. “Yet you treated him quite delicately,” he said, trying to keep himself from smirking.

“If he dies, he can’t repay me,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, if someone I… knew died on me, that would mean I wasn’t strong enough.” Her expression shifted for only a second. “So when are we going to a doctor?”

Her commanding expression had returned, but the drowsiness in her eyes betrayed her. “Tomorrow. You need rest,” Ganondorf said.

“What? No! Link’s dying! We need to get back home — we’re on a quest, given to us from Her Grace, O Radiant Solara!” she shouted.

He heavily doubted that any goddess would give her their favour. “You. Need. Rest.” Ganondorf said firmly. “He’s fine for now, you’re tired, and going out now will be a death sentence for both of you! Do you even know how to ride a sand seal?” He pointed at Patrick, who barked in annoyance from being woken up.

“Can’t be that hard, can—” Her head dropped, on the edge of passing out right where she stood. “You know what? Fine. But first thing tomorrow we’re leaving!” She backed up to the rocky wall again, then seemed to melt into the darkness. Despite having submerged her entire body in the shadows, Ganondorf could still feel the prickling sensation of her glare. “Just so you know, don’t try anything funny! I’ll fucking fry you if you do!” she said, her voice resonating from everywhere yet nowhere at once. Black and orange sparks crackled over the sand to emphasize her words.

Ganondorf could only let out a sharp exhale of exasperated amusement, as exhaustion finally overpowered the feisty Twili.

The next morning, Ganondorf had taken out a few pieces of dried meats and fruits as a small breakfast, not expecting two other mouths to feed on what he thought was a simple investigation of Toruma Refinery. Midna had mocked him for being unable to take care of his ‘guests’, but did not complain any further as she pulled food of her own out of the shadows. Once the two finished their meagre meal, Midna checked over the still unconscious Link.

“Damn it! Why aren’t you waking up?” she asked frustratedly. Her hands shook slightly as she gave him small sips of water at a time.

With a heavy sigh, she got up, stretched her good arm, and began to step out of the shade of the overhang. Ganondorf grimaced in preparation for what was about to come.

“BY DIN’S FLAMES!”

There it was.

It was said the temperature of the Twilight Realm was always chilly like the air of a late autumn day in Central Hyrule, owing to the Sols lighting up their twilit skies instead of a sun. The Twili had long since adjusted to the climate, but that meant any Twili in Hyrule much preferred the colder Hebra Autonomous Territory and the Lanayru and Akkala Provinces, and tended to steer far away from Gerudo Province.

Then again, while many enjoyed vacations during the winter months in Gerudo — the restaurants and hotels in Kara Kara would be booked to the extremes around Nayru’s Day — most Hyruleans that weren’t tall, red-haired, and primarily female, also avoided the desert. Case in point, the Twili in front of him was currently stripping herself of her tunic and most of the patches of a silky black fabric that clung to her body like a second skin. She finished, now wearing something that resembled the typical Gerudo dress.

“Careful not to get sunburnt,” Ganondorf said.

She looked at him like he was insane. “Sunburnt?” she echoed.

“Stay under the sun too long and your skin turns as red as a voltfruit. That’s why you should wear thin layers to protect yourself.”

Hesitantly, she threw the hood of her robe over her head. “So your great, life-bringing source of light in the sky can hurt you?”

He always thought it was a terrible design choice by O Powerful Din, but he supposed that it was one of the many trials for O Courageous Farore’s creations.

The next affair was on how to get moving. Both of them agreed that because of her and Link’s injuries, it was a bad idea for Midna to learn to ride a sand seal, deigning to use her Twili abilities to ride in Patrick’s shadow like a stowaway. The major issue then was how to transport the unconscious Link.

Perhaps they should just leave the sleeping beauty. Maybe if Midna would give him a true love’s kiss he would wake up. He certainly had no obligation to assist the Twylian, considering right now he was just dead weight — Ganondorf quickly banished the thought. Not only was that against the code of the Gerudo, especially heinous as he was the Chief’s son, but Midna would likely — as she had so eloquently put last night — ‘fucking fry him’.

He suggested tying Link to the back of Patrick, just like he had done so far.

“His arm is broken, and you want to throw him around on that tub of lard? …What do you mean ‘I already did that’? Is there an empty space between your ears?!”

Ganondorf thought it was a good idea, but Midna had no intention of cooperating and he wanted to reach Kara Kara sometime before the next goddess was anointed. His next suggestion was if Midna could pull him into the shadows.

“Are you able to use magic while you’re knocked out?”

A question he had no business answering, on account of the fact that he could not use magic whatsoever. In fact, Ganondorf was positive the only Gerudo who could were the Chief, his two aunts, and maybe his younger sister. No other ideas came to him, other than binding Link to him like a backpack.

“Oh? So you want Link all to yourself? You want to feel his tender little body all over your strong, muscular back, hmm?” Midna teased.

Ganondorf had half a mind to tell her off for suggesting such an outrageous belief. He did not feel those emotions, not now, not ever, and he hated how the other Gerudo would tease him, saying that he’s a prude or just ‘saving his heart for the right vai or voe.’ Absolutely preposterous.

The irritation he felt must have been displayed on his face because Midna kept going. “Eee hee hee! I know he’s quite the catch, but you don’t need to blush so hard!” she giggled, tone growing malicious.

“Midna. Silence.”

His sudden viciousness dropped her smirk. “Uh, yeah, okay. It was just a joke, you know?” she said.

He didn’t grace her with a response and completed the final knot to secure Link to his back. Before he tied his waist to Patrick’s harness, he gave a short glance at Midna, who hesitantly walked over to him to dive into Patrick’s shadow.

As Patrick parted the dunes, Midna stayed quiet. Ganondorf had tried to make small talk with her again. She only gave concise answers that offered no chance for any conversation to be sustained.

Ganondorf sighed. “Midna, I may have overreacted back there, but I—”

“It’s not that,” she said from the shadows. “Why do you want to get to know me? What’s even the point? You know full well we’re leaving back to Twilaea as soon as possible, for good. We’re not going to be friends, so give it up.”

He tensed at the brazen rejection. “You do understand I saved your lives—”

She cut him off again. “Yeah, sure, thanks, but that’s only because I can tell you take your honour as the son of the Chief of the Gerudo or whatever too seriously.”

He could almost feel the waves of arrogance oozing from his shadow, and it wore on his composure. “Are you not aware you’re being a manipulative—”

Interrupting him for the third time, she gave an exasperated sigh.“Yeah, yeah, I’m a manipulative, conniving bitch. I’ve heard this a million times. Tell me, Master Dragmire, what would you do if you were in my position? Sent to another world, who you know isn’t friendly with yours, with broken bones, barely any supplies, and someone you knew was heavily injured? Would you play the perfect prince with everyone you meet?”

Ganondorf wanted to answer with the negative, but he would be lying. He absolutely hated that she was correct, that while he was an honourable Gerudo, he too, had a habit of being deceitful. It was a tactic he was all but forced to learn when dealing with the underhanded workings of modern Hyrulean politics. Despite the Chief’s strong dislike for the necessity of dishonesty in their lives, Ganondorf had come to embrace it. Perhaps under better circumstances, he could have been as thick as thieves with Midna, but right now she was the scorpion, and he was the frog carrying her.

Although she had already revealed her stinger and he could easily drown her in the river, Ganondorf was held back by his pride and a small thought at the back of his mind — and for some reason, the back of his right hand — that these two were more than what they let on. He couldn’t help it — it was in his nature, after all.

“It is what it is. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out here.”

That he understood all too well.

✦

Ganondorf had almost forgotten why he disliked Kara Kara. It was a damn tourist trap, and it took him forever to find a place to let Patrick settle down, as all the good stations were taken up by the subpar, barely-trained seals Kohm rented to gullible tourists. He had to resort to exercising his authority as the Chief’s son to let the seal down by a rental shop, earning him a dirty look from Midna.

He tossed Link over his shoulder like a sack of hydromelons and walked towards the nearest clinic. Fortunately, the busy crowds in the middle of their souvenir shopping parted for the gigantic Gerudo. Stares were pointed in his direction, mostly in fright from the voe, and admiration from the vai.

“By Hylia’s grace, that man is enormous!” one Hylian voe said, pulling his friend away from Ganondorf’s path.

“Oh my goddesses! Those muscles! I want him to choke me with them…” a Hylian vai blushed, giggling to her friend and covering her mouth in a futile attempt to stay quiet.

“That’s so hot, the way the yī hào’s carrying his little líng hào over his shoulder!” a Sheikah vai whispered excitedly to her friend.^[1]

Ganondorf had no idea what those last two Akkalan words meant, but by the tone and context they were used in it was probably for the better that he never found out.

Of course, the Twili behind him joined in. “Oh em gee, like, that guy’s so hot, he’s such a manly hunk, I want him to carry me like a sack of potatoes!” Midna trilled.

Was this what Link had to deal with every day? If so, he needed a doctor for his mind — and a guy friend he could talk to regularly. Perhaps staying unconscious would be a blessing. Opening the door to a wide sandstone building, he was greeted with a reception desk manned by a Gerudo child whose small red hair buns just poked out from the top.

“Kalani!” he yelled. “Where’s Romah?”

The little Gerudo girl poked her head up, letting her big round green eyes see who was calling to her. “Sa’oten! Master Ganondorf! Um, Auntie Romah’s not here right now, if you want to leave a message…”

“I doubt that.” Ganondorf walked towards a door in the back and banged his fist against the wood. “ROMAH! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!”

The door creaked open, and Ganondorf barely stopped his fist in time from ramming into the Gerudo on the other side.

“By the Seven, keep it down! You know I’m busy, so…” Running a hand through her dishevelled hair, she turned bleary eyes upwards to see who had just nearly knocked her back asleep, and her eyes went wide. “Sa’oten! Ganon! I was just, uh…”

Ganondorf raised one eyebrow. “Sleeping on the job? Using child labour to cover your bases?” he joked.

“N-no! Not at all! Running the clinic and the hotel is a difficult job, and Kalani wanted to give me a hand!” Romah spluttered, then turned her head downwards. “Please don’t tell Lady Urbosa.”

Hearing her earnest plea, Ganondorf suppressed a laugh. “If you do me a favour, I won’t.” He gestured at Link, strewn over his shoulder, then at Midna who was animatedly discussing something with Kalani.

“So, what do we do when you have a rat basta… loser of a boss who doesn’t pay you fairly?”

“Yoo… unionize!”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Strike!”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Eggs… um, e-execution!”

“YEAH!”

Ganondorf intervened before Midna could ‘teach’ Kalani more about ‘labour rights.’ “I have two patients that need medical attention. Immediately,” he said.

Romah stretched out her arms and yawned. “But—”

Ganondorf responded by tapping his finger against the intricate golden circlet around his forehead, a symbol of his close relationship with the Chief of the Gerudo.

Her face blanching, Romah nodded quickly and stepped backwards into the hallway, before opening a door on the side into a room with two wide raised beds. Ganondorf placed Link down in one of them, then beckoned Midna to lie down in the other.

“Why? I’m perfectly fine!” Midna said.

“You limped in here, and your stance is positioned so you don’t put pressure on your left shoulder,” Romah deadpanned.

“I’m not weak,” Midna said, tone dropping to a frigid chill. “I can heal on my own.”

This woman was ridiculous. Ganondorf struggled not to heave a sigh, lest he somehow injure Midna’s stubborn pride further. “No one’s saying you are, Midna. But your injuries are severe, and it would be better for you if you got medical attention.”

“I said I can heal on my own,” Midna snapped. “Just give me the medicine, and I’ll leave. Put it on Dragmire’s tab.”

He was going to pay regardless, but the fact that she voiced her intentions of using him as a walking wallet irritated him slightly, and he hesitated to speak.

Romah responded first by withdrawing a large jug of blue liquid from a drawer, and turned around to show it to Midna. “Here you go, then,” she said, smiling far too sweetly.

“Blue Potion? Is this a joke to you? Where’s the Red?”

They were getting nowhere. Ganondorf had heard of stubborn before, but to refuse treatment for broken bones because of a misplaced sense of pride was the height of absurdity. Fortunately, he had an idea. “Look, Midna. Let’s say we give you Red Potion. Link will still get the Blue, so he’ll heal faster. You’ll still be hurt when he wakes up, and then…” By going silent, he forced Midna to come to the conclusion on her own.

…and then you’ll be weaker than him.

Midna glared at him, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. Ganondorf didn’t underestimate her intelligence, but he was betting on her own pride winning her over.

“Fine,” she grumbled, and he suppressed a smirk. “But first of all, are you even licensed to use Blue Potion?” she asked, her gaze stuck on Romah like a cactus needle.

A fair question to ask. While it was a healing potion, it was also an extremely powerful sedative. Although it was a controlled substance, lethal overdoses were not unheard of.

Romah stuck her thumb to the side at a frame on the wall holding a piece of paper with ‘University of Gerudo’ printed in big, fancy Gerudo letters and the subtitle ‘School of Medicine’ below it, and a bunch of smaller text too distant to read. “Lady Urbosa and Master Ganondorf would have my head if I was running a fraudulent clinic.”

Midna yielded, sitting down on the bed, and Romah gave her a cup filled with a small amount of the blue medicine. Peering down into the cup, she grimaced, but ultimately downed the contents. With a glare, she pointed a shaky hand at Ganondorf and Romah. “Just… just so you know… don’... don’ try anything funny… if you… if you do…” she slurred, eyelids slowly dropping, barely able to keep her head up to maintain eye contact.

“You’ll ‘fucking fry us,’ noted,” Ganondorf chuckled, as Midna flopped backwards and went out like a light.

He walked up to Romah, who was busy pouring Blue Potion into an IV bag. “Once they’re given the doses, keep them here.”

Romah gaped at him. “I don’t have that much space, Ganon!”

He tapped his circlet again.

“You’re a tyrant, you know that?” she huffed.

Ganondorf let out a guffaw before placing a purple rupee on the counter and leaving Romah to tend to her new patients.

✦

While Midna and Link slept to recover, Ganondorf picked up some errands here and there to help out the people of Kara Kara, from helping to deliver goods between shops — the number of sapphires and hydromelons he had to handle could probably freeze and feed the entirety of Hyrule, respectively — to dragging Hylian tourists with… less than average intelligence out from the middle of the oasis, and working at Kohm’s sand seal rental shop to clean up their pens. To become a well-respected member of Gerudo Province’s community, one had to get down and dirty if one were to truly understand the hearts of the people. And by the Seven, did that last job make him do just that.

A long dip in the hotel’s open-air baths washed off the stench only Hylia could bear, and he set off on Patrick towards Naboris. The sun began to set when Ganondorf passed by the encampment of tents extending well beyond the outer walls of the Gerudo capital. Merchants displayed their wares, calling out to the massive line snaking out from the front gate of Naboris, offering rare goods only found in the city to voe barred from entering the city, or nourishments to travellers struggling against the desert heat. A few shady stalls offered spots further up the line, but they were quickly shut down by patrolling Gerudo guards. Merchants that did have customers were usually locked in tense price negotiations.

Further in the distance were the sounds of whistling and screeching from the locomotives arriving at the Naboris train terminal, to drop off and pick up cargo sent from and to the various regions of Hyrule.

The line was made of tents surrounded with boxes of goods and sand seals lazing about, where travellers settled down to hide from the heat. They would either eat, talk amongst themselves, play cards, or — of course — barter with each other. The reason the line was so long was that not only did goods have to be checked, but so did the identities of those entering Naboris to ensure the no-voe law was upheld as securely as possible. Moreover, from Naboris’ history, it was — and should be — a home for the Gerudo people, and few places existed for outsiders to stay long-time. And yet the line stretched to infinity — Ganondorf supposed it was a Hylian pastime to wait in a queue for hours on end.

That was the exact opposite of how he would prefer to spend his free time. Pushing his way forward, he made it to the very front of Naboris’ main gate, where armed and lightly armoured Gerudo were inspecting a Hylian vai’s paperwork.

“Master Ganondorf! Sav’aaq!” they shouted in unison, standing straight, striking the ends of their golden three-pronged spears into the sand, and placing their free hands in fists over their hearts at the same time.

Ganondorf placed his own fist over his heart, saluting them in return. “At ease, warriors of spirit.” Immediately, a few guards returned to scrutinizing the traveller’s documents. “I must speak with Lady Urbosa,” he said.

“Of course, Master Ganondorf,” one guard said, stepping aside. Just as he moved forward, a voe’s voice rang out.

“What’s the big idea? Why does that guy get to enter, but we can’t?” a Hylian voe cried. He attempted to follow Ganondorf, but the guards instantly brandished their spears, stopping just inches from carving out his heart, causing him to fall back onto his rear.

“Do we need to brand it into your skin for you to understand?!” a guard shouted. “No outsider voe may ever enter Naboris, you four-eyed fool!”

“But he’s—”

“Master Ganondorf is the voe-born Gerudo of this century, Hylian! He is the son of Lady Urbosa!” she continued, edge not leaving her voice.

The Hylian grumbled, standing up and adjusting his glasses. “Hypocritical man-hating bitches,” he growled under his breath before disappearing into the crowd.

“Good work, Dorrah,” Ganondorf said to the warrior. “They never learn, do they? Perhaps we should take your suggestion to heart,” he chuckled.

Above her dark purple veil, Dorrah’s eyes crinkled up in amusement. “Sarqso, Master Ganondorf. Although, I’m not sure King Rhoam will take the marking of his people too well…”

Ganondorf let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, let that old fool lose himself in a sandstorm.”

Dorrah’s eyes went wide. “Master Ganondorf—!”

“I’m joking. Take care, Dorrah. May the Divine Seven shine upon our sands,” he said.

“May the Divine Seven shine upon our sands,” she repeated, then turned back to her duties.

Inside his capital city, he was greeted with a cacophony of noise of people going about their day, checking the stores covering the sandstone city. Despite the law that should have cut Naboris’ population by half, the city was busier than the already crowded Kara Kara, with swarms of vai of all races from across Hyrule — and the occasional Goron — either seeking to trade or just to have a good time with their friends far from the eyes of any voe. Now, he was acutely aware of the eyes lingering on him, along with their murmurs, but he could tell they held different thoughts than those of Kara Kara’s tourists — mostly. The residents of Naboris, along with frequent travellers to the city, knew about his special status. It was the visitors who looked at him with apprehension, shocked that this giant of a voe had made it into the vai-only city and did not get immediately arrested.

Little precedent remained in modern history for his unique situation, either, as only one Gerudo was born a voe per century. The previous one had lived well into Ganondorf’s younger years, and while he enjoyed being able to spend time with his predecessor, he could not relate much as he only ever saw her as a grandmother. Yes, her, because the last voe-born Gerudo was a spirit vai. Therefore, the only father figures he could have were the spirit voe, but they were not allowed inside Naboris — on account of being voe. Naboris’ voe ban only had a single exception for the voe-born Gerudo.

There was nothing he could do to assuage the crowd that he was harmless, aside from the occasional familiar face greeting him warmly. Regardless, he was here for one purpose, so he picked up the pace towards the city’s west end.

Unfortunately, that meant he had to wade through the thicker crowds gathering in one of Naboris’ most popular destinations — Nabooru Square. Named after a Gerudo leader from long ago, the massive square, surrounded by shops, restaurants, and other tourist attractions, was a prime spot for tourists and residents alike to relax.

Past the large statue of the Divine Seven Heroines in the centre of Nabooru Square, was the most popular landmark and Ganondorf’s destination. A crowd, like always, mingled around the front steps of the Spirit Palace to see if they could get a glimpse of the Gerudo Chief. They would have to make do with her second-in-command. A quick exchanged salute to the guards at the foot of the stairs allowed him entrance into the Palace.

Servants and guards alike greeted him in the atrium. He strolled past the chattering of Gerudo warriors and elders into another flight of stairs, where another pair of guards saluted him. The two familiar stone statues depicting Gerudo warriors flanked him as he made his way up the final step onto the smooth floor of the throne room.

“Sarqso for your report, Aveil. You are dismissed,” a rich, deep voice said. The Gerudo who just gave her report turned around, and her yellow eyes lit up when she saw the newest visitor to the throne.

“Ganon! It’s great to see you, brother!” Aveil chirped, her scimitars sheathed on the back of her waist clanging against each other as she bounded up to Ganondorf. The energetic lieutenant of the Gerudo Guard, dressed in reds and yellows so unlike the lilac pants and dark purple tops of the rest of the guards, was one of Ganondorf’s closest friends. He could never forget the time she had tried to steal the eggs of a kargarok swarm and was barely saved from death by a thousand pecks from the Captain of the Guard, Buliara.

Speaking of the Captain, she was standing to the right of the throne, both palms on a massive Gerudo greatsword pointing at the ground, and gave a curt nod when she met Ganondorf’s eyes.

“It’s good to see you too, Aveil,” Ganondorf said, meeting her outstretched hand with a clap and pulling her in for a hug with the other hand. “How’ve you been?” he asked, patting her on the back before he let her go.

She shrugged, tilting her head from side to side. “Oh you know, same old same old. Doing patrols, training the new girls… Girl, I wish I was still hunting Molduga! There’s so much paperwork when you become a lieutenant, and I haven’t even started…” she trailed off, turning her head back around to meet the scrutinizing gaze of her Captain. “Actually, I should get started on that right now! See you around, Big Guy!” she yelped, voice disappearing into the distance as she leapt off the stairs in one bound out of the Palace.

Ganondorf could only shake his head, chuckling. “Why, exactly, was she promoted?” he asked Buliara.

“She has great skill with the sword, and despite her attitude, she leads well. Her high spirits serve as a morale boost to our people, especially in these trying times,” Buliara said.

“Trying times, indeed. It’s good to have you back, Ganon,” the same rich voice spoke again.

“Lady Urbosa,” Ganondorf said, bowing his head. Sat upon the throne was the Chief of the Gerudo, her sharp emerald eyes looking at him expectantly. “I have returned with… unusual news.”

“We are in private, little boar. There’s no need for honorifics,” Lady Urbosa said.

The meaning behind her words was clear. As his mother, she had less expectations of decorum from him. But he could not call her however he wished — not only was she not his birth mother, but as the Chief of the Gerudo, her title demanded respect, and he would not besmirch her name.

“I would not dare, Lady Urbosa.” As soon as those words left his tongue, her expression fell. Only by a millimetre, imperceivable to all, but Ganondorf had spent years in her company. “The Seven would have my head if I acted on my whims.”

“Very well. What did you discover at the refinery?” Lady Urbosa asked.

“Nothing of concern. The workers who came down ill were suspected to have forgone proper protective equipment. Although, there is one other thing.” He took a deep breath. “I found two Twilaeans in the Arbiter’s Grounds.” A pause.

“Along with a Mirror of Twilight.”

Lady Urbosa’s eyes widened, but she stayed silent.

“What?!” Buliara yelled, loud enough for both of them. “That is outrageous! This is not just a matter within Gerudo, this concerns all of Hyrule!”

Ganondorf raised one hand to try to quell her outburst. “When I found them, the Mirror was completely broken. Not a single shard remains in the frame, and whatever portal was there disappeared in front of my eyes.”

Lady Urbosa took a deep breath before she responded. “Ganon, the Mirror frame still remains. It might be able to be pieced together, and if so…” she trailed off, but her implications were clear. If a connection between the two worlds was reforged out of nowhere, it would be a political disaster. “This incident cannot be allowed to spread. I want to meet with the Twilaeans — where are they?”

“They were severely injured when I found them. They have been given Blue Potion under Romah’s care,” he said.

“Once they wake up, bring them to me. For now, return to the Arbiter’s Grounds and see what you can find. If the Mirror remains, see to it they return to Twilaea safely. Afterwards, if you need to destroy the Mirror…” A grave look crossed Lady Urbosa’s features. “You have my express permission to do so.”

Ganondorf suddenly remembered what else he had found. Pulling out the black severed arm, he carefully held it out with both hands to display it to the two vai — who, as expected, grimaced at the vile object. “I found this beside them, lying on the sand.”

Lady Urbosa motioned for him to set it on the floor. “I will call Rotana to investigate that… thing, privately. In the meantime, you should rest here. It’s late, and the little seal will be overjoyed to have you again.”

The setting sun behind the Chief’s throne shone through the open wall. A fitting scene, for twilit skies to appear during his report. “Very well. Sav’orr, Lady Urbosa, Captain Buliara.” Ganondorf gave a salute to the two, turned back down to the Palace atrium, and headed towards a hallway on the side.

Destroy the Mirror? Could he even do that? Could anyone even do that? He didn’t even know how it broke to begin with. Perhaps it was a one-way Mirror, only usable once like an elemental arrow. He was not knowledgeable on the workings of trans-dimensional mirrors — whose expertise was that, anyway? He could ask one of the Twilaeans. Midna had wanted to return to the Arbiter’s Grounds, and if he were to go alone, she would be less than pleased, to say the least. In any case, she and Link were the only people he could ask. Asking the scholars would spark rumours on why the leadership of Gerudo were suddenly interested in the Mirrors, something Lady Urbosa did not want happening. He gave a deep exhale, fatigued and frustrated. Midna certainly held no reservations about how she felt about him, and Ganondorf felt the same. But right now, he needed her — the ever-gullible frog and the ill-boding scorpion. But who was who?

Breaking out of his thoughts, Ganondorf finally reached his destination of a closed door. He carefully walked in so as to not disturb any occupant inside. A canopy bed was placed in the centre of the room, the pillars and arches of sandstone connected by lilac curtains. A desk sat in the corner, where books laid open next to a half-blank paper and a pencil. The sound of water splashing could be heard, created by a sand seal fountain flowing into a small pool in the corner. Lining the room were potted plants, lanterns, and tapestries, but what gave the bedroom character was the frankly absurd amount of sand seal plushies that laid strewn about the floor or piled in corners in a multi-coloured hodgepodge of soft stuffed fabric.

Because of his size, the plush barricades made it difficult to traverse the room without making too much noise. When he got closer to the bed, he could hear the sound of a little girl’s giggles. Letting a gentle smile grow across his face, he slowly peeled back a curtain.

“You speak of magic? Still your tongue for a moment, whelp, and I will tell you of both magic and the oppression of ages…” a little Gerudo girl said in a comically low-pitched voice, moving a grey and black sand seal plush as she spoke.

“Shut up, yu— yu-serr— Usurper dummy! Take this! Hyah!” she cried in a less deep voice and moved a green plush forward to hit the grey and black plush with a kebab stick held in its fins.

“Link! You did it! You saved Twilaea!” she cheered in a falsetto, holding a pale blue plush this time. “Now we have to go and rescue Princess Zelda!”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Princess Midna,” she said in the green plush’s deep voice. “I love you.”

“Oh, Link!” she crooned, again in the falsetto, inching the pale blue plush closer to the green one. “You’re my wolf! I love you too! Let’s kiss!”

The Gerudo child hummed excitedly as she slowly moved the two plushies together, their tusks about to meet…

Until a black plush burst onto the scene! “Shadow has been moved by light, it seems… How amusing.” Ganondorf said, dropping his voice as he held the black sand seal.

“Voe'qa!"^[2] the little girl said, looking up at Ganondorf, her emerald eyes gleaming with excitement. “You’re back!”

Laughing, Ganondorf stroked her long ruby hair. “Sav’saaba, Riju. But wait, the Great King of Evil is here! How will the Hero of Twilight and the Twilight Princess beat him?”

“You can’t beat me! I have the Sword that Seals the Darkness!” she said in the green plush’s voice, holding up the kebab stick in its fin. She jumped the plush over to Ganondorf’s to hit it with the stick.

“Aaargh!” Ganondorf cried in mock pain. “You’ve defeated me with that terrible pun of a sword name! Do not think that this ends here… The history of light and shadow will be written in blood!” he groaned, before flopping the seal onto its side.

Riju giggled. “But you love my puns, voe'qa!”

“I tolerate them,” he corrected.

Riju Makeela was the daughter of Lady Urbosa. At twelve years old, she carried herself every day with unadulterated joy, and her bright smile and constant wide-eyed emerald gaze could brighten up even the gloomiest Gerudo. Perhaps in another time much wilder, much more calamitous, she would be unable to enjoy a peaceful childhood full of sand seals and candied wildberries, but Urbosa’s little seal was blessed by the Seven and she wanted to make every day as happy as she could make it. She and Ganondorf may not be related by blood, but their bond was thicker than the crude oil of Toruma Refinery. The ties that bind are rarely created from birth, after all.

“So… where have you been, voe'qa? It’s been pretty lonely without you, y’know?” Riju said, lying prone on the bed and kicking her feet.

“I’m sorry, Riju. But Vai'ni^[3] needed my help to check out Toruma, and there were some bumps along the way,” he said. He would never call Lady Urbosa ‘Vai’ni’ to her face — it would be an insult to her position — but Riju hated it when he would call her ‘Lady Urbosa’, as it ‘made him sound like a stranger’, as she put it. If he wouldn’t smear his adoptive mother’s authority, he would at least indulge Riju’s wishes in private.

“Oh, okay. Are you staying in Naboris now?”

“I have to leave again for a while. Something came up, and Vai’ni is counting on me.”

“Whaaaat? Why? Can’t you make Aveil do it instead?” she whined, rolling over onto her back, wrinkling her black nightgown.

Ganondorf shook his head. “I can’t. It’s something only I can do.”

Riju frowned. “Can you at least tell me what you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry, little seal. It’s a secret.” Riju grew even more disappointed, so Ganondorf quickly changed the subject. “Say, Riju, how’s your homework going?”

His younger sister’s face paled. “Oh, um, uh… can you help me, voe'qa?” she squeaked.

The next day, Ganondorf paid his goodbyes to the two, with a promise to return quickly to Riju. Hours later, he made his way back to the sand seal stables of Kara Kara, where he hitched up Patrick once more, leaving behind a hydromelon for his dutiful service. Moving through the packed streets, he tuned out the calls of merchants and shopkeepers, as he only had one destination in mind.

He pushed his way past the line to the back of Romah’s clinic, ignoring the complaints of the receptionist. Before he could enter the hallway, the receptionist blocked his path.

“Master Ganondorf! You cannot just enter wherever you’d like; some patients are resting here!”

“Please move, Kachoo. You do not understand the importance of my mission,” he said, his tone growing ever more demanding.

“I can’t do that, Master Ganondorf,” Kachoo replied, holding her arms out.

He had already wasted too much time waiting for the two to wake up. There wasn’t time for this, every second that he spent was a second someone could discover the Mirror before his plans were set into motion and then—

“Impatient, are we?”

Behind him in the lobby was Midna sitting on a bench, awake and healed in all her glory, one bare pale blue leg crossed over the other. But no Link.

She stood up and marched over to Ganondorf. “Me too, Dragmire. You, me, the Banishment— Arbiter’s Grounds, whatever the hell you call it. Let’s get a move on.”

Chapter Text

There was nothing there. Aside from broken arches and withering pillars, the sands of the Arbiter’s Grounds were completely barren. Midna wanted to scream, barely holding back her rage and anguish from being expressed outwards by biting hard enough on her tongue to draw blood.

All she could do was run forward, heavy footfalls against the sand, and drop to her knees on the ground that held a Mirror of Twilight not even a week ago. She frantically dug through the burning grains, fingers working in tandem with levitation magic to excavate what should’ve been there. But there was nothing, not a chunk of black granite nor the smallest shard of broken white glass.

Clambering up on her feet, she ran to Ganondorf and grabbed at his robe. The slight ache in her shoulder combined with her frenzied thoughts frustrated her to the point of nearly ripping the garment. “Where is it?! You’ve made a mistake, right? This isn’t the Arbiter’s Grounds! You’re lying! Stop joking around and take me to it now!” she ordered.

“I’m sorry, Midna. I am just as astonished as you are. I swear upon the Seven and my honour as a Gerudo that I have not lied,” Ganondorf said calmly.

Honour? Without action, to what extent does honour matter? Right now, it was a condiment to placate Midna’s racing thoughts, to sweeten and dilute the truth that Ganondorf’s fingers were crossed behind his back.

If only she didn’t get hurt, if only she was faster, if only she was stronger! Memories flooded back into her consciousness, of thick midnight black lines, of ragged breaths, of weakening grips— Ragged breaths of her own violently racked her lungs from the unbidden childhood recollection. If she wasn’t strong enough then, she would at least be strong now. She gritted her teeth, taking deep breaths to bring her wildly circulating blood and mind back into line.

“Then you’re mistaken,” she finally said. The carefully constructed flat tone would betray no more vulnerabilities. “The Mirror must be here. Her Grace, O Radiant Solara, will not allow this to stagnate our quest. Use your authority; get everyone you know to dig this place up,” she all but commanded him.

“Even if ordered by the divine, that isn’t something I can do,” he responded.

Refusing a demand (even if it was a lie) from the goddesses? Was he insane? And did he think she was stupid? The man had power, he had influence! It was not something he could not do; it was something he would not do! He was a frog, a frog with titles, but still a frog nonetheless; putting a stinger to his neck would surely set him right!

“If I called everyone in Naboris, no, all of Gerudo Province to dig up the desert, the Arbiter’s Grounds, no less,” — Midna noticed he spat the name of the Grounds with vitriol — “then what would they say?”

What a stupid question. “You could just not tell them,” she scoffed.

“Do you think them slaves, Midna? Do you think they would come out to the middle of the desert, through the scorching sun and freezing nights, and dig without an objective? If we say nothing, rumours will spread, and soon enough they will connect the dots. Even if I lie, which” — he let out a sharp exhale — “I will not do, not to my people, the results will be the same. The current trust and respect the Gerudo give their Chief will be lost, and the Divine Seven will no longer shine upon our sands. And if they find a Mirror of Twilight, what then? All of Hyrule will find out. You and I both know the Mirrors were broken for a reason. Returning to a home on the brink of hostilities with another world is certainly not preferable. The ends come nowhere close to justifying the means,” he finished.

He was the man with more political experience, and she hated that he made compelling arguments. She made a frustrated noise. “Fine. You win. What then? You leave me here to rot?”

“Of course not. The plan goes as it always had; when Link wakes up, we go to Naboris to receive an audience with Chief Urbosa. She is wise; it will be alright.”

Midna doubted meeting another Gerudo leader would help her, considering the uselessness of her subordinate. But there was no other decent alternative. “Fine. I’m warping us back,” she said, moving closer to him.

The cry of alarm was music to her ears. “What?! No! We’re surfing! If you—”

His words were cut off, and she let the smug look on her face sink into his vision as she broke them into thousands of flat black squares, spinning upwards into the sky.

That was how a giant Gerudo man, his sand seal, and a Twili woman instantly appeared in a clinic. Once the former two reformed back into their proper shapes, the disorientation from travelling kilometres upon kilometres in seconds caused them to stumble into the hospital bed groaning and barking, nearly throwing the resting occupant onto the ground. The latter woman, already accustomed to teleportation, could only watch the ridiculous scene with barely withheld mirth.

Midna stretched her arms to shake off the magic fatigue, although it was far less exhausting this time. She owed that to the swirling teal hole on the ceiling with lines snaking out from it, set against a black background of squares pieced together randomly. She had woven a Twilight Portal in Link’s room partly so she could retrieve him — if their visit to the Arbiter’s Grounds hadn’t been so fruitless — and partly so she didn’t have to expend so much energy creating a temporary portal at her destination. Obviously, Ganondorf wasn’t a fan, looking at him now, but also because the Twilight Portals in Hyrule were supposed to be destroyed alongside the Mirrors. She supposed she had no use for it now, and snapped her fingers to break it into thousands of dissolving squares.

“Midna… was that really necessary?” Ganondorf groaned, leaning back against the wall and stroking a spooked Patrick.

She responded with a devious giggle before she walked over to Link’s sleeping body, and a grimace appeared on her face. His wounds were graver than hers, causing the Blue Potion to take that much longer to act. Almost a week had passed since then. He would wake up in a day or so, Romah had said. Then, the three of them — she despised the thought, but not only would she have to bring the idiot who forced her into this mess to begin with, she would have to include Ganondorf — would seek answers from Urbosa.

✧ ✦

It turned out to be only her. After leaving Link to go play with his thumbs, she was at the outskirts of Kara Kara, looking southwest into the near infinite plains of sand. Her sharp eyes allowed her to see a speck on the horizon. The jewel of Gerudo, the city of Naboris.

But how would she get there? She had thought of shadowdiving all the way there, but unfortunately, not only would that exhaust her, but there weren’t any shadows that stretched across the empty desert in the first place.

Plan B: the sand seals. Ignoring the complaints of the people in the line, she pushed her way to the counter of the sand seal rental shop.

The Gerudo at the counter had some complaints of her own. “Excuse me, miss, you can’t just—”

“I can, and I will. I’m under orders from Master Ganondorf Dragmire himself. He needs a sand seal, pronto,” Midna commanded.

“Pronto?”

“Rito word. Means as soon as possible. So make like a Rito and fly to it, lady,” she said irritably.

The Gerudo huffed. “As if Master Ganondorf would let someone as rude as—”

Midna smacked a paper card onto the counter. On it were details such as Ganondorf’s name, date of birth, nationality, and other information she couldn’t care less about. It wasn’t hard to guess that the man was a twenty year old Gerudo if you just looked at him.

The Gerudo woman gaped at it. “This is…”

Midna crossed her arms. “Yeah. His ID. Gave it to me so I could prove my connection to him,” she said, patience running thin.

Her eyes flicked from the ID to Midna repeatedly before she finally understood. Grumbling, the Gerudo went to the pen where a bunch of sand seals were lazing about, but Midna stopped her.

“I know these aren’t your best, lady,” she said, dropping her tone. Considering the amount of tourists in Kara Kara, she was certain that these lazy tubs of fat were definitely not the best of their class, only given the bare minimum of training so their owners didn’t get sued if the tourists got hurt.

“Whatever do you mean, miss? My sand seals are the best in all of Gerudo!” she said, offended.

Midna didn’t let the way her eyes darted around go unnoticed. “I think you know,” she whispered, leaning in. “Do you want your other customers to know too?”

The Gerudo gulped. “That’ll be thirty rupees, miss.”

Pulling the (stolen) rupees out of her robes, she placed them on the counter, letting her threatening smile linger.

She was led to a hidden room enclosed on all sides, save for a sliding wooden gate. An open ceiling let the sun shine on the sand seals — ones of significantly better quality, considering their builds and the way they didn’t flinch when she stepped near. It also made them more expensive, as the worse sand seals were rented for twenty rupees each.

A black and grey seal with white marks on its head made a perfect pick, and Midna stepped onto the provided shield, tying herself to the seal. All she had to do was whoop, take off, and she would be at Naboris. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

It could be that hard. She would either go so fast that she flew off the shield and got a faceful of sand, or too slow and get the shield stuck in the sand, at which point the sand seal would yank it free, rider included. After what felt like the five-millionth time of wiping sand off her face, she was on the verge of going insane. There was no way she was this bad at this. This was something Link could definitely get the hang of naturally, so why couldn’t she? Was she going to have to go back in shame and plead for his help to get to Naboris?

No! The brainless dog was probably somewhere far behind her sulking in a corner, and besides, he couldn’t enter Naboris in the first place. And she certainly didn’t need his help.

An idea came to her. She snapped her fingers, and waited. By the Sols’ light, did she wait. Seven seconds. It took seven seconds for the black squares to finally come together in the shape of the magnetic board.

That goddess-damned idiot! She was forced to break the Mirror to save his stupid life, cutting her off from Twilaea’s ether — the colourless, odourless, gaseous substance in the air, which mages converted into usable magic — and now she had to make do with Hyrule’s! The Light Realm wasn’t founded on the basis of magic, unlike the Twilight Realm, so their ether was thin. At least her skill in magic and the tremendous length of her Magic Circuits allowed her abilities to still be useful, albeit much weaker, evident by the way the usual bright turquoise of her Circuits on her arms had dulled.

In other words, if ether was water, then her Magic Circuits would be an extremely energy efficient water wheel, able to produce a respectable amount of energy even with a weak water flow.

But the wheel would be a lot more efficient if it wasn’t powered by the tiniest and slowest stream in the universe.

With a frustrated yell, she hurled the shield away and replaced it with the Magsurf. It surfed like a dream; the sleek design kept it from digging into the sand, and the spinning mechanism let her almost float and stabilized itself to keep her balanced.

The sand seal yelped as she smacked the rope against its hide. “Let’s go, you fat animal! Carry your mistress to her destiny!”

✧ ✦

Once Link and Ganondorf reached the sand seal rental shop, the latter man marched past the pens of seals to the counter. “Kohm,” he said in an authoritative tone. “Where’s your best?”

“Whatever do you mean, Master Ga— Wait. Why are you here? Didn’t you just send a vai to get you one?” Kohm asked.

Sent a vai to get him a sand seal? Who would even— Ah. “A Twili vai? Orange hair, red and blue eyes?”

“Yes! She said you ordered her to get you a sand seal!”

“Well, I didn’t,” Ganondorf said, leaning in and lowering his voice. “So I need one of your best.”

Kohm let out a disappointed sigh. “Seems like everyone today wants my secret seals. That’ll be thirty rupees. Wait, if you didn’t send her, how did she have your ID?”

“She had my ID?” He patted the breast pocket of his bisht. “Where’s my wallet?”

✦ ✧

After that fiasco, where Ganondorf had vowed to give thieves justice in a scarily calm voice and Link covered for Midna again, saying that she was just desperate — he didn’t know why he did that — they made it to Naboris after a few hours by sand seal. Any pride that he gained from discovering his natural talent at sand surfing was instantly lost when he got swept away in the crowd outside the city. He really seemed to have a knack for being dragged away by unscrupulous merchants, as to avoid being trampled he unwillingly stopped at the stall of a Gerudo woman who tried to sell him ruby earrings that apparently ‘matched his eyes’.

Before she could use her marketing tactics to make him lose all of his money, a large hand wrapped itself around his wrist and pulled him backwards.

“My friend, you need to be more careful,” Ganondorf said. As he used his stature to push his way to the entrance, Link followed close behind him, but stopped when he heard someone complaining loudly even over the sound of the people in the line. “Every day, every hour, there’s someone who can’t enter Naboris and holds up the entire line making a scene.” Ganondorf shook his head.

Link had encountered the same phenomenon a few times around Palace City, so he understood how annoying it was. Except the voice of the complaining person sounded rather familiar, and he pushed forward to get a better look.

“Are you an idiot? I’ve got his ID right here! Let me in!”

“Miss, you do not have Master Ganondorf himself with you! Either you get back to the end of the line or we arrest you for disorderly conduct!”

At the gates to Naboris, a familiar head of orange hair was locked in a shouting match with the guards. Link was impressed that neither party had attacked each other… yet.

“Midna!” he called.

“What is it this time? And how the hell do you know my name?” Midna turned around to face him, frustration written all over her face. “Oh, look who it is, you’ve finally—” She paused, eyes going wide as he looked him up and down, and her expression morphed into one of utter confusion.

Strangely, her gaze lingered on his exposed abdomen, but Link had no idea as to why. He wore nearly identical clothes to the Gerudo, just that his was much more… touristy. For whatever reason, she was completely stunned by his new appearance. Under his veil, he smirked. “Don’t… don’t look so hard, idiot!” he whined, covering his stomach as he squirmed and fluttered his eyelashes.

The rage that immediately crossed her face made it totally worth it. She marched up to him, stomping on the sand. “Do you think this is funny? Dressing up like… that, and then having the audacity to mock me when I’m trying to get us back home?” Her hands were twitching, clearly trying to keep herself from hurling a shadow sphere at him.

“Oh, but coming into my room after I wake up from having a broken arm and a concussion healed to yell at me is fine? Not so fun on the other side, is it?” he sneered. “And trying to get us back home? More like just you, because you left me without—”

“Alright, break it up!” Ganondorf shouted, pushing the two of them apart. “Stop acting like disobedient children!”

“Okay, Uncle Dragmire,” Midna said, rolling her eyes as she pulled herself away from him.

Ganondorf sighed. “Are you two able to get along for just one moment?”

“I wish we still could,” Link muttered under his breath.

“Absolutely not,” Midna scoffed.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Ganondorf marched to the guarded entrance, where the Gerudo guards slammed the ends of their spears into the sand, placing their fists over their hearts. “Sav’saaba, Master Ganondorf. What business do you have in Naboris?” one guard asked.

“At ease, warriors of spirit.” Ganondorf responded with the same fist-over-heart salute. “My…” He turned back to face Link and Midna with a grimace, “…companions and I have been requested by Lady Urbosa.”

“Even the unruly Twili vai? I cannot imagine what business Lady Urbosa has with someone of her temperament,” the guard said skeptically.

Midna’s face twisted, but Ganondorf spoke first. “Yes, even her.”

“I see. And your companions’ names are?”

Midna reluctantly gave her first name. The guard nodded, then turned a scrutinizing gaze towards Link. The way she seemed to search him for the slightest hint of hostility made his heart race with dread, even if he had done nothing wrong. “Link,” he coughed out.

Instantly, the guard’s grip tightened around her spear, and her eyes narrowed. A few more guards turned a suspicious eye towards him.

Link just stared back. What did he even do wrong?

“That’s a rather deep voice, little vai,” she said menacingly.

Deep voice for a woman? Were women supposed to have higher voices in Hyrule? Was that another gender thing they had? How was he even supposed to know that?!

Link opened his mouth to defend himself, but quickly realized that would make the situation worse.

“She’s a spirit vai,” Ganondorf covered.

“What? No I’m not—” Link’s reflexive denial was cut short when Midna yanked him backwards.

“Play along, dumbass!” she hissed in his ear.

Link was less than pleased to have to pretend to be a spirit vai. He didn’t want to appropriate the identity of people like Ardin or Vilia — it just felt wrong. But there wasn’t any other way to get himself out of the hole he unknowingly dug for himself. He took a sharp breath before murmuring, “Yeah. Spirit vai. Link. That’s me.”

The guard relaxed, and so did they. “Very well. You may enter Naboris, Master Ganondorf, Miss Midna, Miss Link.”

As soon as they moved past earshot of the guards, Midna pulled him aside. “How much of your brain functions did you lose in your beauty sleep? Why, in all of Nayru’s wisdom, did you say no?!”

Removing himself from her grasp, he explained his reasoning to Midna.

“These are your priorities? I’m pretty sure Ardin has no problem with that if it means we actually get to see him again!”

Thoughts of Ordon flooded his mind, washing down his irritation with guilt and homesickness. “Right,” he mumbled.

But who could really be sad in a city like this? Overwhelmed was probably the better-fitting emotion, as he was nearly thrown to the ground when a drunk woman collided into him, just dodging her spilt drink from ruining Vilia’s work. He glanced around at the shops and restaurants surrounding the main street, the stalls in the side streets, and the thick crowds surrounding them, filling the air with the sound of their chatter. The energy in the air was palpable, even more so than Kara Kara. Perhaps under better circumstances, if Hyrulean-Twilaean relations ever warmed up again, he could come back and tame a sand seal of his own, or try some Gerudo delicacies. He nearly lost himself to the smell of cooked boar, seared with a red spice and sand seal butter and garnished with Hylian herbs, only pulled back from the line outside the restaurant by a frustrated Midna.

Soon enough, the main street opened into a huge open space, filled with somehow even more people. Link looked around in awe — the square was nearly as large as Palace City’s central plaza. Shops and restaurants surrounded the perimeter of the square, and there was an even greater number of groups of women relaxing or walking about.

“Welcome to Nabooru Square,” Ganondorf said.

Midna frowned. “Nabooru? That name sounds kind of familiar…”

“It’s the name of the Sage of Spirit from the Hero of Time’s story,” Link said.

“Seriously?” Midna laughed. “You guys named a square after a character from a fairytale?”

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes at her. “Nabooru was a real person who led the people of Gerudo from long ago,” he said.

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean she was a mystical sage with divine powers,” Midna said disbelievingly.

“I never said she was.”

Midna turned to Link. “Oh right, it was you! Don’t tell me you think those stories were real,” she said condescendingly. “Are they why you hurled us into Hyrule? Because you wanted to be like a fairytale hero?”

Why would he want to mimic a fictional character? If anything, Midna should’ve brought up the Hero-King of Twilight, considering he was actually a real person. That was one of the people Link looked up to, after all. The story of the Hero of Time was interesting, sure, but that was all it was. A story.

Aside from children, who believed a fat old sage dressed in red would come into their homes every Nayru’s Day to deliver presents, everyone knew that fact. Unlike the Heroes of Sky, Minish, Four, and Twilight, there was zero actual evidence that the Hero of Time had ever existed, aside from the Hero-King of Twilight giving a testimony of his adventure as if he had met the Hero personally. Getting sent back in time was an awfully convenient excuse for the lack of evidence.

Yet from what he heard, the people of Termina believed in the Hero of Time the most for some reason.

He didn’t, though. Link’s veil fluttered from the exasperated sigh he let out. “I’m not the Hero of Time.”

An irritating grin crossed Midna’s face. “Just making sure you weren’t completely delusional,” she said and walked away further into the square.

“She really cares for you,” Ganondorf chuckled.

“You have a really messed up definition of care,” Link grumbled.

A huge sandstone monument was placed in the square’s centre, displaying the figures of seven armed Gerudo warriors arranged in a crescent. Moving past the rush of people making their way from one end of the square to the other, Link made his way to the statues. A plaque read ‘A monument to the Divine Seven Heroines, the saviours and divine guardians of Gerudo.’

“Our patron deity. Deities, if you will,” Ganondorf said from behind him.

Link felt a sense of amazement as he looked at the statues of the Seven Heroines. It was clear by the diligent and careful cuts into the sandstone, and its current near-pristine quality, that the Gerudo loved their patron deities. Yet, there were two things about the plaque that bothered him. One was that despite being in the centre of Gerudo’s capital, the Hylian text was larger than the Gerudo text. The second was that…

“Why doesn’t it read ‘Their Graces, O Divine Seven Heroines’ instead?” he asked.

“Those honorifics would put our Divine Seven on the same pedestal as Hylia,” Ganondorf said, voice completely neutral.

“The same pedestal as Her Grace, O Celestial Hylia?” Link echoed. “Do the Gerudo have a problem with Her?”

“We have nothing against her. It is just that Hylia was born divine, whereas our Divine Seven Heroines only gained their divinity through their labours,” Ganondorf said, not a single intonation in his voice that would indicate his feelings on the matter.

“Just like O Radiant Solara, huh?” Midna looked at the statues with her hands on her hips. “I can respect someone who earned something through hard work, instead of getting everything fed to them with a silver spoon.”

Ganondorf smiled. “Indeed. A conversation for another time; we should not keep Lady Urbosa waiting.”

Link followed Ganondorf to the front steps of the Spirit Palace, Midna just behind him. Canals made of blue and green rocks flanked the polished sandstone stairs, where water erupting from a huge formation of funnel-shaped rocks high above the roof of the Palace flowed down and through the canals. A series of additional waterways splitting from the canals delivered water throughout Naboris. Ganondorf’s presence allowed them to push past the crowd at the steps, where he greeted the guards who let them pass into the Palace’s atrium.

While not as large as that of the Palace of Twilight, the central room of the Spirit Palace still demanded respect. Waterways on the walls, sloping down from the ceiling, delivered the natural geyser’s waters out of holes in the walls where canals built on the lower roofs of the Palace sent the water elsewhere. Gerudo tapestries and murals decorated the rest of the smooth sandstone walls, and windows high above let the setting sun cover the atrium in soft orange hues. A red carpet ran across the atrium, bordered by golden Gerudo embroidery. It split into a crossroads in the centre, where to the left, a large hallway, doors lining the walls, bent around the corner to the back of the Palace. To the right, the carpet stopped outside an arch leading to a paved courtyard, where Gerudo warriors sparred. Straight ahead, the carpet ran up a wide staircase into another large room.

Before they entered, Ganondorf saluted two more guards outside it. Two large statues depicting Gerudo warriors flanked the three on either side at the entrance. In the centre of the room, a raised platform held a throne surrounded by a canopy of thick sandstone pillars decorated with Gerudo drapes and cylindrical crystalline gemstones. Potted plants gave the imposing throne room a homely feel. The roof of the throne room was made of uncarved rock, allowing it to muffle the sound of water rushing out from the natural rock fountain a bove them. Behind the throne, the open wall showed off the darkening skies above the vast plains of the Gerudo Desert, coloured gold by the sunset.

But nothing stood out more than the occupant of the throne. The way she was posed was like the ever-moving sands — relaxed yet attentive, serious yet friendly. The pressure coming from her almost seemed to ripple the shallow pools of water surrounding the throne, only accentuated by her golden headpiece which displayed her authority like the rays of light of a rising sun. Her ruby hair, tied back in a huge ponytail, seemed to shine even in the dim light of the setting sun. Link felt as if her very presence could bring down lightning.

Perhaps she could literally bring down lightning, considering the lines running along her arms, marking her identity as a mage. Link noted the differences between Hyrulean and Twilit Magic Circuits — the former were green and resembled the fluid patterns of blood vessels, while the latter were turquoise and resembled the geometric patterns of, well, circuits.

“Halt! You stand before Lady Urbosa, Chief of the Gerudo! Declare your business, but come no closer!” A Gerudo greatsword rang as it slammed into the floor of the throne room. Holding its long bronze handle was a burly Gerudo guard, her size matching the strength she displayed.

Lady Urbosa raised one hand. “At ease, Captain Buliara. These are Ganondorf’s companions, the two Twilaeans I wished to speak with, are they not?”

Captain Buliara relaxed, but Link and Midna tensed. Twilaeans? Not Twili?

Ganondorf nodded slowly. “The very ones.”

Link knelt and introduced himself with his hands so that his voice didn’t give him away. He struggled a little bit, accidentally signing words in Twilit Sign Language instead of Hylian at times.

Sharp emerald eyes scanned every inch of his figure, worsening his already wound-up nerves. If the way the Gerudo Guard at Naboris’ border looked at him was stressful, Lady Urbosa’s gaze was downright frightening — she looked at him as if she was piercing into his spirit. “Miss Link, is it?” she asked, voice inquisitive, and turned her eyes to her second-in-command. “Ganondorf. It is a great crime to bring a voe into Naboris.”

A slam of metal on sandstone brought Link out of his shock. “Master Ganondorf! Breaking the old laws of Naboris—” Captain Buliara started, but Lady Urbosa held up another hand.

“Lady Urbosa, you are mistaken,” Ganondorf said steadily, “She is a—”

“Spirit vai? I hope you aren’t insulting my intelligence, nor Lady Narena’s honour with such falsehoods. Mr. Link does not carry the same spirit as did she,” Lady Urbosa warned.

“Oh, this is rich!” Midna laughed dryly, and all eyes turned to her. While Link and Ganondorf had shown some sort of respect towards the Chief, she stood steadfast, arms crossed. “You wanted to see us to lecture us on why lying is bad? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were dealing with a saint!”

Link couldn’t believe their only lead back home was about to go up in black and orange sparked flames. “Midna, what are you doing?” he hissed. “You’re only making this harder for the both of us!”

She turned on him, eyes flashing with anger. “You’re the one who put us here in the first—”

Captain Buliara slammed her sword against the ground again. “Watch your tongue! Remember that you are speaking to Lady Urbosa!” she shouted.

“Nooooooo, really? I thought I was talking to a Chuchu!”

Link struggled to not hit his face with his palm.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you’ve given us your name?” Lady Urbosa calmly interjected.

Midna turned her irritated gaze back towards the Chief. “Midna. Agent of Her Grace, O Radiant Solara. So unless you want to piss off our patron deity, get to the point!”

Lying about being associated with Her Grace, of all beings? There were some things Link would do to get home, but that kind of disrespect was just outrageous.

“Agent of a goddess? You? Do not speak lies to the Chief!” Buliara shouted.

Lady Urbosa smiled. “When you two crossed the Mirror of Twilight into Gerudo Province, you fell under the watch of our Divine Seven Heroines. You would do well to show them deference.”

Link felt his blood go cold. He didn’t know why the way they entered Hyrule had to be such a tight-lipped secret, but the way Ganondorf kept it under wraps made him follow suit.

Midna rounded on Ganondorf. “Damn it, Dragmire, how much did you blabber while we were out?!”

“Only Lady Urbosa and Captain Buliara know. They are trustworthy and hold the highest positions in Gerudo. You can at least try to seek help from those best suited to your situation,” he said, voice steadily rising.

“Fat load of shit that’ll do, considering the entire goddess-damned Mirror’s gone and disappeared into Farore’s winds!”

The information hit Link like a bag of bricks. “The Mirror’s completely gone?” he said weakly.

With a heavy exhale, Ganondorf turned to face him. “Yes, Link. While you were recovering, Midna and I investigated the Arbiter’s Grounds again — the place I found you two — and found no remnant of the Mirror.”

While Link tried to focus on a spot on the floor to calm his raging thoughts, Lady Urbosa put a hand to her forehead. “So the Mirror of Twilight has disappeared, and no methods exist to excavate the Arbiter’s Grounds without…” Without alerting all of Hyrule to its existence. “Nonetheless, the very existence of two Twilaeans who entered Hyrule after the Hyrule-Twilaea Split places us on a knife’s edge.”

“Hyrule-Twilaea Split…? Is that what you call it?” Midna muttered under her breath.

Link furrowed his eyebrows at the term. From what he could infer, it referred to the event that occurred over two decades ago — the breaking point of the cold war between Hyrule and Twilaea. It was fortunate that the war was prevented from going hot, even if it resulted in the destruction of every single Mirror of Twilight connecting the two worlds.

But due to the way in which the so-called Hyrule-Twilaea Split came, and its far-reaching and long-lasting consequences, it was called something much less unbiased in Twilaea. He stayed silent about that, unwilling to swerve the discussion into a political disagreement over semantics.

Thankfully, Midna wasn’t willing to, either. “It’s good to know that I’m not a person, just a walking political bomb,” she said loudly, rolling her eyes.

He fought back a groan. She still seemed intent on antagonizing Lady Urbosa, though.

“You misunderstand my words, Midna. As Gerudo, we are honour-bound to help those who lose their way in the sands. What we intended was for you and Link and return to Twilaea safely; the Mirror would be destroyed, and nothing more would come of it. But now our situation has become increasingly precarious.”

“Our?” Midna echoed.

“Yes, our. You may believe we are helping you just to save our own skin. I will not lie and say it isn’t a factor, but Ganondorf saved your lives and has continued to aid you without compensation. A friend of Ganondorf is a friend of mine, and we will do everything in our power to help you,” Lady Urbosa said.

“Help us how, exactly?” Midna sneered. “All you’ve done since dragging us to your fancy palace was give us lectures and empty words.”

Buliara opened her mouth to speak, but Lady Urbosa gave her a quick look. Propping a fist under her chin, she pursed her painted ultramarine lips. “Midna, I would advise you to speak with some respect in the future. Nevertheless, I have already spoken privately with Rotana, our head scholar. I sincerely apologize, but we have nothing relevant about the Mirrors concerning your situation. I can only offer you connections to the rest of Hyrule—”

“Isn’t the point that no one else learns about us?!” Midna snapped.

“—who understand the concepts behind the Mirrors better. Unfortunately, unless you wish to stay within Gerudo Province for the rest of your life, you will have to take risks. Don’t worry, the Sheikah are a well-learned and secretive people. I will pen a letter to Lady Impa of Kakariko Village explaining your delicate situation. In the meantime, take a rest here. Rooms have been prepared in the Palace. We will talk again in the morning.” Lady Urbosa leaned back against her throne. “Sav’orr, Ganondorf, Ms. Midna, Mr. Link.”

✦ ✦

Urbosa leaned against the sandstone half-wall on the balcony behind the throne room of the Palace. The chill of a Gerudo night slowly crept over her skin as the sun fell past the horizon of sand.

“Urbosa, I hope you do not mean to keep the voe inside Naboris?” the Captain of the Gerudo Guard said, next to her.

“Tell me, Buliara. What do you think of the Twilaeans?”

Buliara looked down at her with a displeased expression on her face. She stayed silent — the best way to passively circumvent answering a question asked in response to a question.

However, Urbosa already had an uncounterable response. She quirked her lips up at Buliara. “I would not abandon those lost in the desert. Would you?”

“Of course not—”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Now answer my question, dear Captain.”

Buliara turned her gaze towards the horizon. “I suppose the voe was respectable, even if he did infiltrate Naboris. I understand why he did so, but cannot forgive him for it so easily.” She looked back at Urbosa, expression hardened, before she spoke again. “But the vai’s attitude was truly unacceptable! Urbosa, I do not understand why you even humoured her!”

Urbosa smiled. “Her spirit is turbulent, like the shifting sands, but it is also just as pure. It reminds me a bit of myself when I was young and naive, with a mood that changed as fast as a lightning strike.”

“I do not believe your spirit has changed all too much, Urbosa,” Buliara said, chuckling.

Urbosa swatted the taller woman’s back as they laughed together.

“So she is the Twilaean you are most interested in?” Buliara asked.

“No, it is Link Vesper who intrigues me the most,” Urbosa said.

Buliara looked at her curiously. “The voe? How so?”

As the Gerudo Chief, with many years of experience in the position, she had become very skilled in understanding people’s characters. She didn’t become the Chief by sword alone, after all. Midna’s character was not difficult to recognize — a troubled girl with a tendency to snap at people as a defense mechanism, made worse by her current predicament.

As with all people, there was something deeper behind Midna’s personality, but her complete opposite, Link, caught more of Urbosa’s attention. Polite, respectful, doing his best to reign in his companion. In terms of personality, there was nothing wrong with him. Yet, there was something about him that was not so superficial. Something she didn’t exactly like.

“His spirit is hollow.”

✦ ✦

Link smacked his head into the floor after accidentally rolling out of the most comfortable bed he had ever slept on. He groaned, both from the pain and the missing plush feeling, but he sat up and looked at the clock on the wall.

Fifteen minutes to twelve?!

He had overslept! Bolting up, he got dressed at a rapid speed and placed his hand on the doorknob, about to dash into the hallway, but the sound of two voices stopped him.

“…How we fight our problems differently? You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re an outsider. Why should I listen to you?”

“It makes me impartial. And I wouldn’t write myself off so quickly— Speak of a Molduking, and it surfaces from the sands,” Lady Urbosa said, giving Link an amused look.

“Good morning, Lady Urbosa,” he yawned, closing the door behind him. Only then did his sleep-addled brain realize who he was talking to. “I’m sorry for being so late!” he yelped, while trying to put his Gerudo headdress over his dishevelled hair in an attempt to look presentable. He thanked his past self for deciding to take a bath last night.

She chuckled. “Correction: good afternoon, Link. Don’t worry, I understand your situation is a stressful one. Join us for lunch in the dining room in a few moments,” she said, walking down the hallway. “Oh, and Midna? It would do you well to reflect on our conversation.”

Midna tutted. “Yeah, yeah, because Chief Lady Queen Boss Urbosa is so wise and intelligent.” She turned to face Link. Crimson and cerulean eyes stared down at him with unconcealed disdain, until their owner scoffed and walked past him.

“Midna!” he called after her.

She acted as if she didn’t hear him.

Muttering under his breath, he ran over and grabbed her wrist. Instantly, her hand flew upwards out of his grip, but she stopped, back still turned to him.

“Midna, just talk to me!”

“What is there to talk about? I’m leaving to find a way home, while you can stay here sleeping in all day. Isn’t this paradise for you, Link? Being in Hyrule? Being in Naboris? You’ll get to enjoy your favourite foods and dress in your cute clothes. You get to spend time with so many beautiful women too!” she sneered.

What was she saying? “What? No! I want to go home too! That’s why I dressed like that, so I could follow you to Naboris! I care about getting us, both of us, back home!”

“Congratulations. You did the bare minimum.”

“So I’m going with you!” he declared.

“Oh? Where is this coming from? Have you finally wised up and realized that you owe me for the Mirror?”

“I didn’t use the Mirror,” he said through gritted teeth. Why wouldn’t she understand that he didn’t lay a single finger on it?

“You must think I’m the stupidest person alive if you think I’ll buy that.”

He did think that, because she refused to realize the truth. But he wouldn’t ever win that argument. Not against a woman as stubborn as her, so he had to switch the conversation back onto the correct road. “Whatever. Will you let me help you or not?”

“No. I’m not letting you; you’re obligated to after what you’ve done to me, and what I’ve done for you. So start paying your debts and hurry up. You’re already late.”

As she walked away, Link decided to go for maximum appeasement. “Midna. Thank you for saving my life. I’m sorry, and I understand that I owe you, but we need to work together if we want to get back home.”

She stopped again. Link braced for the sarcastic remark she was about to let out. “What I said yesterday may have been too harsh, and for that, I’m… Don’t take it to heart,” she said blankly.

Not the response he expected at all. What did Lady Urbosa say to her? Still, she didn’t apologize whatsoever, but he didn’t mind that all too much. “It’s fine, Midna, I’ve said some hurtful things to you too, and—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t apologize again. I don’t need empty words, I need action. And, well,” she sighed, “you did listen to me and get to Naboris. I’ll give you that.”

“So are we working together?” Link wanted to add ‘again’, but he decided against it.

Midna turned around with a smug look plastered over her face. “Nope. You’re still working for me. I’ll be a bit more lenient on you — seventy-thirty split, as opposed to the ninety-ten I wanted yesterday.”

Of course he was still under her heel. “You know what? I’ll take it. Great negotiation,” he said dryly.

She burst out laughing, and that time, it lost a lot of its bitterness. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Get a move on, the Gerudo are waiting for us.”

As Midna went to leave, Link decided to ask the question again. Maybe this time it wouldn’t go so horribly. “Midna, are we…” He couldn’t find the courage to complete his query.

“I…” She paused. “I don’t know. I can’t easily forgive you for something like this.”

“We’ve overcome something like this before, I’m—”

“Link.” Her tone chilled dramatically. “Stop. Bringing stuff like that up won’t help either of us, and it certainly won’t help your case.”

He clenched his jaw, trying not to retort that she had done the same. Worse, actually; at least his recollection was something positive. “Right. Okay,” he deadpanned.

“Just… let’s move. You’ve made us late.”

✦ ✦

A chunk of hummus dropped onto his hand as he tried to scoop some out with a piece of flatbread.

The Gerudo dishes in front of him greatly resembled traditional Twilit foods, although Twilit dishes were a lot brighter in colour. Nearly everything grown in Twilaea tended to be brightly-coloured, if not literally glowing.

“Nice going, idiot,” Midna said in between bites of her flatbread wrap filled with falafel balls.

She was eating her food with a strange sense of elegance, almost akin to a noble’s table manners. Link supposed it was drilled into her when she left for that fancy magic school all those years ago. Then she would reach across the table for food or slouch in her chair, and the roughness of her personality showed itself.

“So you’re Link, and you’re Midna. And you’re travelling together?” Ganondorf’s younger sister asked, staring at the two of them with a strange look on her face.

Link nodded, unsure of where Riju was going with her question.

“So… are you two boyfriend-girlfriend?”

Midna nearly choked on her wrap, and Ganondorf guffawed. Link was tempted to say yes, if only to get under her skin.

Objectively, she was a very beautiful woman.

Objectively, she was a very insufferable woman.

“No,” he said calmly, as Midna glared at Riju. “What makes you think that?”

“Your names! Your adventure!” she said, beaming at him. “They’re just like the Hero-King of Twilight and his wife! Did your parents name you after them because they wanted you to marry each other?”

A child’s thought process was an amazing thing. Logically, it made… it made zero sense, actually, as their parents didn’t even know each other until after the two of them were born.

There was also another reason why her assumption was completely wrong, but Link refused to remember why.

“No! What kind of reasoning is that?! I hate that guy!” Midna yelled, pointing a finger at Link.

That only made Riju’s eyes brighten even further. “That was just like them at the start!” she squealed.

Link chewed on his hummus-covered bread, trying not to smile at the way Midna was clearly struggling to not go off on a child.

Before it could get out of hand, Lady Urbosa diverted the conversation. She suggested that Ganondorf accompany them to Kakariko, a Necludan Sheikah settlement far to the east in Necluda Province, saying it was ‘an opportunity to maintain friendly relations with the rest of Hyrule.’

“What?! Absolutely not!”

“Midna, it wouldn’t hurt to have a guide. I mean, we know next to nothing about Hyrule.”

“What about Riju?” Ganondorf asked, before glancing quickly at the back of his right hand. Link could tell the question was only asked half-heartedly — the man held grander ambitions than being confined to the desert.

Obviously, Lady Urbosa picked up on it too. “Ganon, I know you’ve been wanting to travel around Hyrule. My little seal will be fine; just remember to write to her and send her gifts. She loves you too much to hold you back.”

Midna shook her head so violently Link feared it would fly off. “No way! I said he is not coming!”

“You can’t go, voe’qa! You’ll get in the way of their budding romance!” Riju cried.

Link smiled. “It’s three against two. Democracy wins.”

“And yet everywhere we go is a dictatorship,” Midna grumbled.

After their supplies were placed in Ganondorf’s bag and the two Twilaeans’ shadow storages, Lady Urbosa had seen them off with tickets for the Hyrule Railway. While trains were something whose budget had been all but killed in Twilaea, allowing only wealthy merchants with too much cargo to warp or nobles unaccustomed to warping to use, it appeared in Hyrule they were much more well-funded. Or at least given some tax money in the first place, seeing as the red and yellow paint of the locomotive had patches missing or peeling off.

Before they left the sandstone train platform, Riju rushed full speed into Ganondorf’s sides. “Do you really have to go, voe’qa?” she asked, arms trying their best to wrap around his huge waist, looking up at him with wet pleading eyes, showing the true reason why she didn’t want Ganondorf to leave.

“Yeah, voe’qa. I think you should stay behind. Don’t want to leave little Riju all alone, huh?” Midna jeered.

Ganondorf knelt down, releasing himself from her grip, and put a hand on Riju’s shoulder. “I have to spread my fins, Riju. Patricia doesn’t laze around all day in the Palace, does she?”

Riju swayed from side to side. “Well…”

Ganondorf wagged a finger in mock accusation. “Riju Makeela! You’re a very bad owner, you know that?” he said, and she broke down in a fit of giggles despite her tear-filled eyes. “But Patrick, at least, doesn’t stay in one place all day. And neither can I. But you can take care of him for me while I’m gone, can’t you?”

She nodded, sniffling. “Voe’qa, you’ll write and send gifts often, right? You’ll show me all the pretty places in Hyrule?”

An unreadable expression crossed Ganondorf’s face as he wiped her stray tears. “I’ll bring them to you one day, little seal. I promise.”

“You seally promise?” Riju held a pinky out.

Chuckling, Ganondorf ruffled her hair, then intertwined his large pinky with her tiny one. “I seally promise.”

As Ganondorf walked towards them, waving goodbye to Riju, bittersweet thoughts ran through Link’s head of blonde hair, green headbands, and white cuccos. Soon. Soon he and Midna would return.

After the three showed their tickets to the train conductor and took their seats, the locomotive roared to life, steam shooting into the desert air with a loud whistle as its wheels slowly churned along the metal rails on the path towards Necluda — and towards Twilaea.

✦ ✦ ✦

Her ribs felt like a prison around her lungs as she gasped for air. She had bolted upright in her bed, throwing off her weighted bedcovers. Brushing stray strands of light blonde hair out of her face, she smacked her lips. They were uncomfortably dry, a jarring contrast to the purple-coloured waters her unconscious resided in overnight.

The same grotesque landscape was plaguing her dreams; a constant disturbance of shallow lilac pools. But this time had differed. Alongside a wolf, a boar, and a crane, she had flown as a bird of prey through the deep purple skies until an island suddenly erupted out of the waters and struck her out of the air, sending her crashing down into the shallow sea. A figure entirely clad in engraved stone armour disturbed the still waters when it marched over to her as if enraged. Even with its face completely covered with a horned helmet, she felt a vindictive gaze stabbing into her cognition itself, forcing her awake.

A short knock at the door made her jump. “Your Highness, are you alright?” a woman’s voice softly called.

“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine! No need to worry,” she responded as best she could while her mental faculties were still starting up for the day.

“Oh, alright, but I heard you scream—”

“Just a nightmare, Amea!” she called.

“Of course, Your Highness. May I come in?”

Amea was her personal maid. Tall, slender, wearing a tight bun of naturally smoky blue hair that matched her long high-collared servant’s dress that ran to her ankles, she had taken care of Princess Zelda since birth. As Amea brushed Zelda’s bed hair back into the short curtain bangs she liked, she ruminated about yesterday’s events. She had returned to Hyrule Castle after a short trip to Castle Town, where she had wandered into a lecture hall at the University of Central Hyrule. The mechanical engineering lecture focused on the principles of motors; particularly, the maximization of torque without sacrificing speed.

Zelda had found it terribly fascinating, asking and answering questions of her own. As a result, the professor had recognized the Crown Princess of Hyrule, and he along with many of his students held her up after the lecture to chat with her. Unfortunately, her father had found out. He had reprimanded her over supper, saying that she was already ‘fooling around playing Rito’, that she didn’t need to be ‘wasting time with unrelated academics’ and she needed to be a ‘proper princess, with thorough knowledge of politics.’ She was unable to find the logic in his words. The Kingdom of Hyrule was a constitutional monarchy — the Royal Family still had vast political power, none could disagree, but Parliament already worked effectively worked decently worked existed. And after the Hyrule-Twilaea Split and the two crises after it, Parliament was effectively a one-party legislation. De jure, a democracy. De facto, a dictatorship.

She chewed her lip. Perhaps his points held some merit.

“It’s time to get dressed, Your Highness,” Amea said after putting on the last touches of Zelda’s makeup. “What do you think of this piece?” she asked, holding up a long soft blue dress with white sleeves.

“Excellent choice,” Zelda said. She did like it, but she would have much rather worn her favourite purple and white quilted blouse and her riding breeches, but she supposed she would have to put on appearances if only to put her father’s mind at ease.

Once Amea clasped a ruby brooch to her chest and placed a thin golden circlet around her forehead, she clapped her hands. “You look wonderful, Your Highness!”

Zelda nodded slowly. “Thank you, Amea. Shall we have breakfast together? The Royal Gardens are particularly beautiful in the summertime.”

“Oh no, Your Highness. Not today. There is important business I must attend to. My sincerest apologies; perhaps another time will suffice?”

Giving a near imperceptible sigh, Zelda put on a polite smile. “Of course, Amea. There is no need to apologize for circumstances outside your control.”

✦ ✦ ✦

The birds chirped around the gazebo in a secluded part of the Royal Gardens Zelda was sitting in. She bounced her leg while picking at her breakfast — scones with cream and strawberry jam, a side of peeled oranges, and a cup of black tea. Amea had personally delivered it to her before she bowed apologetically and took her leave.

Two sparrows in the trimmed grass waddled close to each other, possibly looking for food. The moment one of them got closer to the other to preen its partner’s feathers, Zelda’s heart panged, and she lost her appetite.

She hated admitting weakness, but she was terribly lonely. Amea was one of her few friends in Hyrule Castle, and even then, she treated her with white gloves. Her royal blood made it so that those employed in the Castle’s service always treated her with the utmost propriety, and any people she met outside the suffocating brick walls either talked to her with greedy eyes as if she was little more than a golden goose or avoided her altogether in fear of offending one of the most powerful people in Hyrule.

At only nineteen years of age, the few friends she did have tended to be those in positions of power around Hyrule, and as such, rarely could make time for her due to the distance that made it difficult for them to visit each other aside from rare occasions, duties that took much of their waking hours, an age difference that gave them other responsibilities such as their families, or some combination of the three.

Zelda would spend her time perusing piles of scientific and historical books and papers, riding her horse through the plains of Central Hyrule, or spending time in the archery range honing her skills. But whenever she would get a moment of quiet introspection, it dawned on her just how lonely she was. Such distasteful thoughts she would never speak aloud, but her nightmares excited her just a smidge. She hoped they were a false positive, considering she absolutely did not want a world-ending calamity to occur in her lifetime, but a traitorous part of her brain secretly wanted it to happen. That way, she would be able to go on an adventure of a lifetime alongside the next Hero, and along the way, she would meet a beautiful maiden and the two of them would fall in love and get married and they—

Maiden? Why did her mind go there? Zelda was meant to fall in love with the Hero — that was how the story went. The Hero who wielded the legendary Blade of Evil’s Bane would fight off the reborn evil that threatened Hyrule, and the princess descended from Her Grace, O Celestial Hylia, would seal it away. Then, the two would live their happily ever after. Although, the Hero of Twilight had given his heart to a different princess, one born of twilight’s vibrant shades, and the Queen of Light had found a Sheikah woman to be her consort.

But was there another Hero after him that fell in love with a Princess Zelda? It had been centuries since the Age of Twilight, and some time since she read about the era. She would have to go back into the Royal Archives to refresh her memory. Hopefully, if she ever was thrust on the quest ordained by the goddesses, the Hero would find someone else — the thought of her, romantically involved with the Hero, put a bitter taste in her mouth for some reason.

Whatever thought was about to come next was interrupted by the sound of wings flapping through the air, too loud to be a simple bird. A woman much taller than Zelda landed in the grass, her large white wings retracting back into her body, morphing back into arms with fingers and opposable thumbs. Her copper red hair was put in a long ponytail, tied back with two feathers, one mahogany and white, the other grey-blue, and her sidetails were braided with grey-blue beads. While her head and most of her body were undoubtedly Hylian with pointed ears and a pale face, instead of a nose and mouth, she had a yellow beak.

Talons in the place of legs raked across the grass as she ran up to the gazebo, the reflex bow on her back shaking with every step. “Zelda!” she greeted, without any titles or honorifics, deep red eyes twinkling with joy. “How’s the ‘little bird’ doing?”

“Oh, Medli, don’t tell me you picked up Urbosa’s nickname for me, too,” Zelda said, putting down her silverware and walking out of the pavilion to envelop her friend in a hug. “I’m perfectly well. How are you, Revali, and Komali?”

Medli clicked her beak. “I’m doing great, and my Komi’s doing fine. The fledgling’s still a little shy, but Tulin’s — that’s Teba’s kid — really helped crack his shell. As for Revi, he’s the same as always. He needs to get his pride in check and stop preening his own feathers. You know he lost the Chief position to Teba because of that? Kaneli said he was ‘too out of touch with the rest of Medoh.’”

Zelda laughed with her hand over her mouth, while Medli shook her head in disappointment. “I’m still surprised the overgrown cucco didn’t make our wedding all about him.” Raising her beak, her eyes lit up. “Oh! Speaking of Urbosa, she wanted me to give this to you!” Medli rummaged through her pouch and handed a letter to Zelda. “She says hello, and hopes that you’re in good health.”

The beige envelope, closed with a seal, stamped with a depiction of the markings on the back of a desert serpent — the crest of the Gerudo — was undoubtedly a message from the Chief of the Gerudo. “You’ve seen her recently? How is she?” Zelda asked.

“Same old, same old. Stern, beautiful, the perfect embodiment of a Gerudo chief. Although, Riju seemed to be a little sad, and she didn’t tell me why,” Medli frowned.

“Oh, no! How is” — Zelda coughed — “Ganondorf?”

Medli raised one eyebrow and gave a lopsided smile. “Urbosa’s other kid? The one that hates your guts?”

“He doesn’t hate my guts!” He absolutely hated her guts.

“Sure. He might as well be cooking your name with Bokoblin horns with how bitterly he greets you. Anyways, no sight of him, not a single feather. Urbosa said the oil’s been funky lately; the kid was probably checking it out for her.”

Zelda pursed her lips. “Now there are issues with Gerudo oil? How are the windmills in Hebra?”

Medli waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s probably nothing to moult over, and our wind farms are perfectly fine. Just because Lanayru is a disaster doesn’t mean the same’s happening everywhere else!”

It was true, what was happening in Lanayru Province was a tragedy, and yet Parliament and her father were taking ages to send aid. It was no wonder the people were losing trust in the central government if this was how they functioned in crises.

“I hope they fix it soon. It was good catching up with you, Zelda!” Medli trotted off, giving herself space to take off. Her arms changed back into wings, and the grass around her flattened backwards when she propelled herself into the air. “Take care of yourself!” she called as she flew off.

Zelda waved at the Rito-Hylian — or Hybird, for short — disappearing into the sky before returning back inside the gazebo. After finishing her breakfast, she returned to her personal study. Retrieving a letter opener from her desk drawer, she carefully pried off the seal of the envelope. She unfolded the letter and began to read, eyes widening with every word.

Chapter Text

The floor of the train rumbled as it chugged along the rails of Gerudo Province. Link had mixed feelings about the ride. While he was excited to be able to ride one of the steam-powered carriages he believed only available to the stuck-up pricks in the Palace of Twilight, the way his head jostled around every time he tried to so much as close his eyes irritated him.

While he would have preferred warping, not only did Midna not know what Kakariko Village even looked like, but having her keel over and die from magic exhaustion was the exact opposite of their quest’s objectives.

Their seats consisted of two cushioned benches facing each other, separated by a table. Link and Midna sat on one side — with her sitting as far as she could from him — while Ganondorf sat on the other. Their tickets provided them with lunch which Link wolfed down, Ganondorf ate, and Midna picked at. Multiple stops along the way, at stations built in Gerudo Province cities and towns, allowed Link brief moments to stretch out his limbs without being flung by the bumpy ride.

When the sun set, the train stopped at a town just past the opening in the cliffs that separated the Gerudo Desert from the canyon that led to the rest of Hyrule, aptly named Canyon Town. Another benefit of their tickets gave them a free stay at the hotel in the town, where they enjoyed a typical Gerudo-style dinner — an assortment of roasted cucco, salads, bread, olives and dates that could be piled onto a plate however one wished. Ganondorf said if Link kept his appetite the way it was he would turn into a sand seal in no time, earning a snort from Midna — one she quickly disguised with a cough.

In the morning, the train whistled to life once more, and sped through the snaking path of Gerudo Canyon. The railways were built into the rocky cliffside, obscuring the view of an enormous sprawling rock structure above them to their east called Spectacle Rock, but it let them see the white snow-covered cliffs and peaks of the Gerudo Highlands to their west. It took them a few more days to reach Central Hyrule proper, after they crossed a bridge over a gigantic body of water that had unnerved Link from the height.

“So that’s how Aveil nearly got herself ripped to shreds by a bunch of birds!” Ganondorf guffawed.

Link smiled at the story, before sharing his own on how he had fallen into a cucco pen once and almost got himself pecked to death.

“You have cuccos in Twi— where you’re from?” Ganondorf asked after he recovered from his mirth.

“What exactly do you think we are?” Midna snapped. “Aliens?”

Ganondorf held up his hands. “No, that’s not what I meant, I was just—”

“Oh, Ganon! What’s up?” a Gerudo woman interrupted. Dressed in red Gerudo clothes with a bright yellow gem on her forehead, her yellow eyes twinkled as she walked up to the three.

“Speak of a Molduking,” Ganondorf said, sliding down his seat. “What are you doing here, Aveil?”

Aveil slid into the empty spot. “Oh, just a training exercise with the Hylians at Outskirt. You know, my girls are back there on the other cart,” she said, pointing back to where she had come from. “You should totally say hi to them, Ganon!” Then she leaned forwards, eyeing the two Twilaeans with curiosity. “So these are your travelling buddies? The name’s Aveil, lieutenant of the Gerudo Guard! Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too. Link, by the way,” the Twylian said, extending a hand to her.

“Midna,” the Twili said curtly.

As Aveil grasped Link’s hand to shake it, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “That’s funny, I could’ve sworn there was another vai with you, Ganon…”

Link froze. He had changed from the Gerudo clothes Vilia had tailored for him back into his green tunic and black cloak, no longer needing to account for the harsh desert sun. The baths he took during the trip washed out his makeup, and his terrible sleeping positions — Midna said she was almost impressed that his body could contort that way — were to blame for the return of his messy hair. At least his eyebrows were still on point.

“There was never another woman with us. Do you need your eyes checked?” Midna quipped.

“What’s your problem, lady?” Aveil asked, insulted.

Ganondorf hovered a hand over Aveil’s chest as if she was about to leap at Midna. “She doesn’t mean to offend, Aveil, that’s just how she talks.”

“Oh, so you know all about me, do you now?” Midna taunted.

“Look, Midna,” Aveil said, enunciating her name in contempt, “We’re trying to be nice, so why don’t you pull that stick out of your—”

“SHUT UP!” Link yelled, slamming his fist on the table hard enough that it shook. Instantly, he recoiled back in shock, shaking the pain off his hand. He released the tension in his face he didn’t even know he had, and met the wide-eyed looks of the others with his own. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I… I don’t know where that came from.”

Midna leaned back. “I get it, our journey’s tough. We may have taken things a bit too far—”

“We?” Ganondorf echoed.

Midna glared at him, crimson and cerulean eyes locked in a match with amber ones. “Yeah, I’m not apologizing to anyone, sorry. Let’s all just shut up and move on.”

Ganondorf slouched back in his seat and chuckled. “I think that’s the best we’ll ever get out of her.”

Before Midna could restart the argument, Aveil interjected. “By the Seven, it’s cold! Isn’t it still summer?” she asked loudly.

She was right, it was cold. The heat of the lanterns inside the train along with the summer heat should’ve been trapped by the insulation of the train car. Instead, Link shivered from the deathly chill, one that he only felt inside places like the Ereva Canyon where the light of the Sols could not reach.

Their train car erupted in murmurs and complaints. “Where did the heat go?!” a passenger behind them cried out. The man walked over to the long hallway between the carriages and yelled. “Hey, where’s a conductor? It’s cold in here!”

Aveil pushed herself out of her seat. “I’m gonna go back to my girls. It’s probably warmer in there. I’d invite you guys too, but the seats are filled up, so…” She clapped her hands together apologetically, but before she left, the train car suddenly darkened as the lanterns were blown out. The only source of light left was the dying rays of the setting sun, scattering through the windows, painting the carriage in an eerie orange glow. Long shadows cast by the passengers and their seats added to the ominous aura.

As this all happened, the train continued to chug along, as if nothing was wrong. The noise of the metal wheels scraping along the rails was drowned out by the mounting panic of the other passengers.

Link, still somewhat adjusting to the sudden drop in brightness, began to scramble out of his seat to get a better view of the situation, but a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Let’s not start a trend of panicked people trampling through the cars,” Midna said, pulling him back to his seat.

Ganondorf, still reclined in his seat, laughed. “For a free train ride, it could be worse.”

As they crossed a thick forest, it blocked whatever sunset light was left, leaving dim lantern light pouring in from the other carriages as the only light source. “Yep! That’s it! This car is cursed!” Aveil joked, leaving in the same direction the other passenger had gone. As soon as she crossed into the connector, her sandals stepped onto liquid. Instead of splashing, it squelched.

“Oh man, who spilt all of this juice?” Aveil grumbled, stepping back from the puddle to scuff her shoes against the dry floor.

“It smells like metal in here,” Midna said uneasily. She moved out of the seat past Link, snapped her fingers, and the small glow of orange and black lightning illuminated the dark carriage.

As soon as Link got up to follow her, the train lurched with a loud metallic screech. The fighting style of the Gerudo was designed for uneven, unstable terrain like the shifting sands of the Gerudo Desert, allowing Aveil to easily keep her footing. Link, who was not as skilled in the style as the Gerudo lieutenant, stumbled slightly, and Midna stayed upright with a short burst of levitation magic.

As soon as he recovered to move towards Midna, he could smell the metal, and he heard a high-pitched noise coming from the farther train cars. Something came down the aisle, nearly tripping him. When he knelt down to get a closer look, unable to see through the darkness, the train came out of the forest, returning the sunset’s glow back to the carriage.

Straining the muscles of his throat, Link barely managed to push down the contents of his stomach from erupting. The complaining passenger’s pale face, wreathed in an eerie orange glow, stared back at him, eyes wide and mouth contorted in a silent scream, unable to make a sound as his vocal cords were severed in two. But not just his vocal cords, but also his esophagus, his trachea, his spine — the entire rest of his body was detached from the head, leaving dangling veins and arteries to slowly leak out the rest of his blood from the severed neck like a grotesque fountain.

“It’s— Farore’s winds, it wasn’t—” Aveil stammered, reeling back from the pool of blood she had stepped in.

The train lurched again, but Link was prepared for it. The same could not be said for the the decapitated head as it rolled down the train, tracking the corridors in a sickly red. It seemed to dissolve into squares, but it was too dark to see properly. Doing his best to remove the horrific images from his mind, Link stood up shakily. As soon as he did, the sound of Twilight Portals opening resonated through the air outside, only slightly muffled by the glass windows. Link’s heart hammered against his chest when infernal screeching accompanied it.

Claws scraped against metal as something heavy ran along the roof of the train. He immediately snapped his fingers, Sword of Shadows and Twilit shield reforming slowly into his hands at the same time the windows shattered, and a large dark mass broke through. The top half of his shield was still coming together in black squares. The tangible bottom half was enough to protect against the flying shards, but claws suddenly shot out through the incorporeal top. On pure instinct, Link leaned back just far enough so that his eyes didn’t get clawed out. Another clawed arm came at him, but his shield, now reformed, blocked the scratch. The sound of sharp nails on metal made him wince, and he sliced off a clawed hand with his sword. The stone-masked monster leapt back with a hiss, only to meet its end when a large axe tore off its head.

“What the hell was that thing?” Ganondorf shouted, kicking away the headless body, letting it smear the viscous black liquid pouring from its neck over the floor.

Bolts of shadow lightning crackled in Midna’s palm. “They’re what attacked us before the Arbiter’s Grounds,” she growled, and let a continuous stream of lightning strike the corpse, melting its flesh to ensure its death. The smell of burnt rotten meat nearly made Link vomit.

“Any tips?” Aveil asked, letting her curved scimitars gleam in the dying sunlight, one in each hand.

“Yeah,” Midna said bitterly. “They’re fucking immortal.”

The sound of screeching pierced the air once more, and the melted flesh knitted itself together in wet black strands. From the stump of its neck, grotesque tumours erupted outwards, before a circular stone mask slowly pulled itself out of the cancerous blisters. The black tumours receded into the shape of a head, and behind its stone-plated face, it shrieked. It got onto all fours, its severed arm regenerated in the same revolting manner, and hurled itself at Link.

Link jumped to the side, shield blocking against its outstretched arms. At the same time, two more shadow beasts broke through the windows of the car, scattering glass shards all over the floor, seizing the attention of the other three.

Now placed on a one-on-one with his shadow beast, he leapt back as it overextended its claws, and he lunged forwards with a spin to cut open its chest. The beast clutched at the black fluid spilling from its wound and collapsed, temporarily dead. The moment Ganondorf bisected his opponent, Midna and Aveil’s foe jumped back and let out a paralyzing shriek.

Instantly, the downed shadow beasts’ wounds knitted themselves closed, with one half of Ganondorf’s beast shooting out strings of black gunk to pull itself together like a revolting sewn stitch. They stood up, sluggishly unfolding themselves as if they were puppets on strings.

“If they’re immortal, can we even beat them?” Aveil asked, panic barely kept at bay.

“We don’t have a choice,” Ganondorf said gravely, taking the time to bandage a wound on his forearm.

The train suddenly ground to a halt, the abrupt stop throwing the passengers and the shadow beasts forwards down the aisle into another carriage. Plates and glassware thrown from the tables shattered on the ground around them. Link pushed himself up onto his arms, trying to ignore the wetness of the floor and the pungent metallic scent in the air.

One shadow beast recovered fast and tackled Link before he could stand up, throwing his sword to the side and sending stars into his vision. Wrestling around on the blood-covered floor, he used his strength to suplex the shadow beast onto a table, gaining a few deep cuts in the process. He held it down, and Link tried to ignore the sensation of jagged knives cutting into his arm as the beast clawed at his chokehold. He temporarily freed one hand to grab a wine bottle and smashed it over the beast’s head, then used the broken remains to thrust deep into its chest, carving out whatever heart it had. Breathing rapidly, he staggered back from the corpse and picked up his sword to assist the others.

Another beast slashed at Aveil, who caught one clawed hand with a scimitar. As she struck with the other, the other hand grasped at it, locking the two in a stalemate. Aveil pushed hard and split the beast’s hands in two, blades slowly peeling its forearms into halves, but the last shadow beast went to strike at her flank.

Midna wrapped the beast in tendrils, but she only had enough strength to slow it. It was enough for Ganondorf to rush in and cleave into it, and he kicked the beast into Aveil’s opponent. The two remaining shadow beasts flew onto the ground, where Midna poured lightning into the open wound of one to melt it and Aveil drove both scimitars into the chest of the other. Seconds later, their corpses broke into hundreds of midnight black squares. Breaths of relief and exhaustion left the four as the squares disappeared into oblivion, and the warmth of a summer night returned.

✦ ✦ ✦

Outside the stopped train, Link, Midna, and Ganondorf sat around a campfire, roasting pieces of salted meat over the flames — none of them had the energy to cook a proper meal. Bandages covered their limbs, and empty bottles littered the grass. Aveil had returned to her warriors, who fortunately were able to hold their own against the onslaught. She had decided to leave with her warriors towards the town of Outskirt, but not before bidding them a solemn good luck on their journey. Horse carriages from Outskirt were being sent to bring survivors of the attack to the town.

Survivors. Link shuddered as he remembered the pools of blood and… something else he couldn’t quite recall. How many had met an early end to the constantly reviving monsters? Link didn’t even know how they killed them and made it out alive. It was only fortunate to everyone else on the train that the carriage the three had stayed in, and the one Aveil’s company was in, were near the front of the train, allowing them to stop the rampage of the shadow beasts earlier. It made Link feel better that they had saved the rest of the passengers. But the ones who hadn’t made it… He shook his head to rid the thoughts. Soon, they would reach Kakariko, and soon they would put this whole thing behind them.

Ganondorf and Midna absentmindedly chewed on their cuts of meat. Link, already having wolfed down his meal, was sewing up his torn sleeves after he had diligently washed his clothes clean of blood.

He and Midna caught Ganondorf up to speed on the shadow beasts and their origins. Understandably, he was concerned about how they had crossed over the worlds. Midna’s theory was that they had awoken with the Mirror, and therefore they needed to find the ‘goddess-damned piece of shit’, go home, and break it as soon as possible. It made sense, considering that the shadow beasts always appeared wherever the two Twilaeans were. The only problem was that she still thought it was Link’s fault, glaring at him while she gave her explanation.

Ganondorf looked at them skeptically. “What, so you two have some magic tracker on you or something? Doesn’t that put us in terrible danger?”

“You came with us against my wishes. If you’re too cucco I’d be happy to lose the dead weight,” Midna said with a smirk.

Ganondorf’s expression stayed serious. “You saw exactly what those things could do, and now knowing that they can appear out of nowhere? We were lucky that we had a metal box protecting us. Now we’re as vulnerable as a beached sand seal.”

Midna’s lighthearted expression dropped. “You don’t think I know that? But what can we do other than deal with it? We don’t know how they’re coming, why they’re after us — we know nothing about them!”

“Which is why,” Ganondorf said slowly, “once we reach Kakariko we’ll get our answers. In the meantime, we need to stay on our guard at all times. I’ll take the first watch, you two get to bed early. I’ll wake you when the time comes.”

First watch? Why didn’t Link think of that? Of course those shadow beasts wouldn’t leave them alone when they slept. He put down his sewing supplies and headed off into his tent.

“Good night, Ganondorf,” he called back. Midna said nothing as she dived into the shadows.

A good sleep did not come for Link, and against his wishes, his body was all too prepared for Ganondorf to switch places. The pitch black moonless sky certainly didn’t help his nerves, and his hands fidgeted against the hilt of his sword as he peered into the dark forest around them. Thankfully, only the soft hoots of owls and the songs of crickets could be heard; no humming of Twilight Portals came. He took a pocket watch from his tunic, having decided to keep it on his person as his shadow storage had gotten too slow to conveniently retrieve items from, and flicked open the cover.

Fifteen minutes to midnight.

✦ ✦ ✦

Link was exhausted in the morning, hardly having slept. Over breakfast, he had asked Midna how she was faring.

“Fine,” she said, but he could notice dark bags under her eyes.

Now a bigger problem reared its head. The shadow beast attack had destroyed the train’s engine, rendering it useless. Without the train, they were stranded in southwest Central Hyrule, still miles and miles from their destination, and no other train would come to the wreckage.

Which is why they were in the middle of a town in the south of Central Hyrule, having made the trek by foot. Midna had tried to levitate the entire way, but her weakened magic made it much more taxing. Just outside the massive stone walls enclosing Gatepost, the three of them were at the town stable trying to negotiate for a horse.

“That man is already the size of a goddess-damned horse!” the stablehand cried, pointing an accusing finger at the man in question. “He’ll break its poor back in two!”

“Horses are a lot stronger than you give them credit for, you know,” Link said, and turned to Ganondorf. “How much do you weigh?”

He flipped a hand back and forth. “About 350 pounds, give or take?”

The stablehand’s mouth dropped wide open in horror. “Absssssssss-olutely not! You’ll crush my poor horsies!” he shrilled, then pointed a shaking finger at Midna. “You! Twilight lady! Why do you need a horse? Can’t you teleport?”

Link backed away as Midna’s eyes narrowed. A mischievous smile came to her face as she walked closer to the counter of the stable. “Is that your son?” she asked, pointing to a framed picture of a little Hylian boy in a green cap and shirt, swinging around a toy Master Sword.

“Yes, why?” the stablehand asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

Midna grinned deviously. “You see, we’re on a mission given to us by Her Divinity, O Courageous Farore, and we need a horse for our journey.”

The stablehand huffed in disbelief. “Right. Like I’m just going to believe— what is that?!”

Floating in her hands was a spherical-cut gemstone coloured a brilliant green, framed by a golden spiral. “You know what this is,” she said, moving the gemstone closer to his face and lowering her voice to a murmur. “The legendary Kokiri’s Emerald. Don’t you want your son to know that you helped those blessed by the Hero’s patron goddess?”

“I do…” the stablehand said, voice quieted in complete awe, staring at the Spiritual Stone in a trance.

Midna pressed the advantage. “In fact, I’ll give you it for safekeeping, so you can tell your son that his dad is one of Farore’s Chosen, if you lend us a horse and a carriage.”

The stablehand nodded so fast he resembled a woodpecker, and all but snatched the emerald out of the air.

✦ ✦ ✦

“I can’t believe you’re okay with lying to a child.” Not only that, but she had lied about the will of O Courageous Farore — blasphemy that would’ve gotten her strung up at the stake back when religious fanatics held the strings to Hyrule and Twilaea. It would get her dirty looks today from many people, including Link himself, for insulting the Golden Goddesses themselves.

He shook his head, riding on a cream-coloured horse with a silver mane, towing a wooden carriage with the other two sitting in it. It made him a little homesick, as this horse, while comfortable, did not feel connected to him the way Epona did. But the other issue was that they were going to be wanted criminals — the three of them had no intentions of ever returning the horse.

“Technically, it wasn’t me, it was his dad,” Midna retorted. She was lying down across the seat of the carriage, tapping her fingers on a pebble. Using her illusion magic, she morphed it into different gemstones with each tap.

Link struggled to keep his hands on the reins and not his face. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t going to break a kid’s heart! Do you even have a moral compass?”

“I do. And it’s pointing towards Kakariko,” she replied smugly.

Ganondorf laughed. “She got you there.”

Midna’s amused demeanour changed instantly. “I didn’t ask for your input, Dragmire,” she said coldly, clearly unamused with the peanut gallery.

Ganondorf opened his mouth, about to respond, but Link gave him a look. Drop it, he said with his eyes.

✦ ✦ ✦

Ganondorf sat beside a campfire, letting the sound of steel on stone reverberate through the moonlit forest as he sharpened his axe. The other sound was Link whittling away at a piece of wood with a carving knife. Midna had gone to do her ‘business,’ telling the two of them that if they even had the idea of peeking at her they would not see the sun rise again. As if he would be interested in anyone. Especially not someone like her. Speaking of Midna…

“Link, what’s up with her?” Ganondorf stopped sharpening. “Why does she hate both of us so much?”

Link continued carving. “Have you tried asking her?” he asked earnestly.

Of course he would say that. Ganondorf had to admire Link’s nonchalant roll-with-the-punches attitude, but it did not match with his own way of thinking. He was not the type to sit there and put all of his feelings on the table. Showing your hand too early was how you lost the game, and Midna clearly thought similarly. They differed in that his bluff was civility, whereas hers was hostility, and if she continued like that throughout their journey it would ruin his hand.

But she had flipped over a few cards — their partnership wouldn’t last, so she had no desire to make friends. Her vitriol, however, was something he couldn’t read.

“For you, it’s obviously because of the Mirror. As for me, it’s because she doesn’t want to get attached, is that it?” Ganondorf asked.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Link said, blowing away the wood shavings.

“But that’s it? There isn’t something else that makes her so… ticked off?” Ganondorf pressed. He hoped his interrogation of Link would help him navigate that minefield that was Midna.

Link rotated his work-in-progress to check for mistakes. “Ask her yourself,” he repeated flatly. The significant pause meant he was clearly hiding something.

Ganondorf sighed. “As if I could. Link, we’re travelling together. I just want to know how to get her to stop acting like such a…” he failed to find an appropriate word.

The sound of steel on wood stopped as Link slowly turned his eyes to Ganondorf. “Like a what?” he asked.

Ganondorf paused.

“I’m interested in hearing what you have to say. Midna’s acting like such a what?” Link asked again, rather calmly.

Was that a threat? Was he still defending her, or was he willing to talk badly about her behind her back? He had protected her secrets, so Ganondorf decided to play it safe. “I’m sorry, it was a slip of the tongue. I’m tired, we’re all tired, and there’s a Mirror-shaped bomb above our heads at all times. I just want to get along with you two better, and I apologize.”

Link stayed quiet for a few moments. “Okay. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get through to her before we go home,” he said, a bit solemnly.

“How did you two meet, anyway?”

He went back to carving. “When we were kids, her family took a vacation to my village, and we hit it off from there.”

It was not a slip of the tongue he had made — he was gauging the strength of Midna and Link’s relationship. He had hoped he could use Link to break through Midna’s defenses, but it appeared that wouldn’t be the case, especially not when they were childhood friends. Although, their current friendship was hanging on by threads, so he wondered…

“So you’ve been friends for how long?”

Link thought about it for a moment. “Friends, huh?” he sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve known her for more than a decade, though.”

Ganondorf pressed the gauge further. “And you two haven’t ever, you know…”

“Ha! As if!” a woman’s voice snarked from behind them. “He’ll always be that mangy mutt I took pity on.”

Link rolled his eyes. “And you, Midna, are still the same stuck-up imp.”

“Imp? I’m taller, smarter, and prettier than you.” She sat down at the campfire. “What were you two talking about?”

“Guys’ talk. Private business,” Ganondorf said. He wasn’t completely lying, but Midna didn’t need to know anything.

Link gave a non-committal hum in agreement as he continued to whittle away at the wood, ignoring the way Midna was looking at him with clear suspicion on her face.

“Whatever. It was probably something stupid anyways.” She yawned, stretching her limbs. “I’m going to bed, wake me up when it’s my time to take watch.” Before she sank into the shadows, she gave Link a strange look — not friendly, but not overtly hostile, either. “Nice carving, by the way.”

He gave another hum in thanks, staring at what Ganondorf saw as a completely incomprehensible shape.

✦ ✦ ✦

Over the course of little over a week, they had managed to move many miles east. They had crossed through a riverbank cutting right through the middle of two mountains. The path was made almost as if something had cleaved a single mountain in two from the peak, giving its name of the Dueling Peaks. The inside halves were almost flat as if the passage was a massive hallway. They had gotten their horse-drawn carriage through the light on the other side, and reached a town slightly northeast of the Dueling Peaks passage.

Made up of mostly Hylians, with some Sheikah and Zora residents, the architecture of the town was a mixture of— actually who cared what it looked like? It’s not like she was staying here for long. Link was the guy who gave vivid descriptions of everything, especially since the Banishment Grounds, saying something about how his ‘eyes had improved’, and would speak nonsense like ‘embroidered traditional designs’ or ‘illuminated by the soft orange hues of the setting sun.’

But that wasn’t the point. After performing routine maintenance on the horse, who Link named Ilya — the moron was getting attached to Hyrule — and a night at an inn, they were now this close to Kakariko. The only problem was…

“No, no, it’s fine! We just have to go this way, and we’re back on the main road!”

They were in the middle of a forest, and…

“Link, I do believe we are completely and utterly lost.”

Link flipped the map again, then looked at his compass. “Ganondorf, it’s fine. No wait, it’s this way, just trust me.”

“You’re actually hopeless, you know that?” Midna said from Ilya’s shadow. The reason she wasn’t in the light at the moment was because after Link had made the brilliant move of taking a shortcut through a forest, the carriage couldn’t move any further so Midna had to put it into her shadow storage. With great effort, she might add, because she nearly passed out after the thing had dissolved. Ganondorf had offered to carry her, but obviously, she refused. “You know, I was hoping we could make it Kakariko before, hmm, sometime next decade?”

She tried not to let the restlessness show in her voice. Who knew what was going on in Twilaea at the moment? They had been gone for nearly a month at this point, and she hated— no, she disliked the image of the sad faces of Ardin and Aryll… and maybe the rest of the kids, thinking that she and Link were gone forever. That, and she hated it here. Aside from personal grievances with the nation that she would rather not think about, the skies were too bright and blue, it was so hot that she was only wearing her robe and a shadowskin jumpsuit — woven significantly thinner than she liked, to be honest — and the people sucked. Everyone was either stuck up to the Sacred Realm, like Urbosa and her little Captain, or so friendly it made her sick, like the giant Gerudo next to her. She had overheard their conversation a week back about him wanting to be on friendlier terms with her, and it pissed her off to no end.

Worst of all were the shadow beasts. She still blamed Link, sure, but she genuinely had no idea how they followed her to Hyrule, and the way that they could appear without a moment’s notice, directly on top of them? It didn’t scare her, of course not, but she’d be lying if it didn’t slightly unnerve her. The only reason she heard their conversation in the first place was because she hadn’t left that far. She could easily win a one-on-one against those monsters, but on the off chance she got hurt, it might’ve been helpful for them to be near. So she was rather impatient to go home, unwilling to deal with those creatures.

They trotted through the forest, Link on top of Ilya walking slowly, Midna in her shadow, Ganondorf’s long strides matching pace. The sound of something rustling, quickly muffled, was barely heard by Midna’s perceptive ears.

“Did you guys hear that?” she asked the other two.

Link and Ganondorf looked confused, finding nothing out of the ordinary. “No, but you did, right? Where’d it come from?” Link asked.

“Keep moving forwards, eyes peeled.” Midna said, slight panic barely pushed down.

✦ ✦ ✦

Birds perched on the branches chirped as she bent down, grabbing near the roots of a Hyrule herb. The herb, surprisingly resilient, refused to be uprooted, and she pulled back harder, using her legs to—

Pop!

The herb flew out of Paya’s hands as she tumbled backwards, only barely stopping herself from hitting the ground using one of the many Sheikah techniques drilled into her. This one, ‘Spiral of Serpent’, redirected her momentum by putting one foot and one hand on the ground and using them to push herself into a sideways spin in the air back onto her feet. She would’ve felt proud of herself for executing it so flawlessly — if it didn’t throw out the contents of the herb basket strapped to her back in all directions as if she was a fountain.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, Paya knelt down to pick up the dropped herbs, until the noise of birds taking to the sky and deer galloping away sounded through the forest. Oh no, was she that loud? Another purpose of the herb-picking job was to practice her stealth, and she had completely ruined it! Or so she thought, until she realized a much louder noise than her had startled the animals.

“You know, I was hoping we could make it Kakariko before, hmm, sometime next decade?” a young woman’s voice resonated through the air, coming from everywhere yet nowhere at once.

The sounds of something heavy with four legs — a horse, she quickly realized — walking through the forest, along with footsteps, almost a third as heavy as the horse, were dangerously near.

Oh Hylia. Travellers? Now? Or were they… she shook her head to banish her increasingly panicked thoughts. She breathed slowly, in and out, focusing on her inner mind, utilizing the ‘Mind of Crane’ technique. She struggled a bit but managed to get her breathing regulated and mind sharp. She muffled her footsteps — ‘Song of Butterfly’, the most important of the Sheikah techniques — and crouched down, slowly moving away from the travellers.

Unfortunately, she had not accounted for the giant basket on her back, and it rustled against her haori. She instantly tensed up, quickly applying ‘Song of Butterfly’ to the basket, waiting for the danger to pass. But wait, this was dumb. If they were travellers, then they wouldn’t have heard her — what was loud by Sheikah standards was considered deathly quiet by all of the other races. She started moving again and her stress dissolved—

“Did you guys hear that?”

Paya froze.

“No, but you heard something, right? Where’d it come from?” a young man asked.

Paya’s heart beat faster.

“Keep moving forwards, eyes peeled.”

With even more effort, she barely pulled off ‘Mind of Crane’ and ‘Song of Butterfly’ to get away as efficiently as possible. How had they heard her? Could they be— no, no, they wouldn’t be, she just wasn’t quiet by non-Sheikah standards, and her mood dropped further with disappointment this time. The horse started trotting after her and the heavy footfalls got faster. She quickened her pace — it would lessen the efficacy of ‘Song of Butterfly’, but she needed to get out of here as soon as possible, although she kept to the shade of the trees. If she was spotted, it would render her efforts useless. A quick glance over her shoulder let her know she was gaining distance, and—

“Hel-lo!” the otherworldly voice said, stabilizing on the second syllable. Paya screamed as a pale blue face appeared from nowhere, inches from her own, only for a second as Paya toppled to the ground. She just barely saved herself with a careful execution of ‘Spiral of Serpent.’

“Wow, cool moves,” the tall pale blue woman said.

Her accent was… Paya thought for a second… yes, Twilit! She was a Twili, and her eyes, one crimson, the other cerulean, looked at Paya like she was prey. It unnerved her, and she was barely able to keep her mind in focus with the technique.

“So you were who I heard,” the Twili laughed.

“H-how did you hear me?” Paya said, just able to keep her stutter from going haywire with another ‘Mind of Crane.’

She smirked. “I have my ways.”

Before Paya could respond to that incredibly suspicious answer, three more beings broke out of the forest— out of the forest? Paya took a quick look around, realizing that she had led them outside the forest. No wonder then; they likely just saw her out in the open. But that still meant she failed, and it made her a little more disappointed.

“Midna, slow dow— Oh! Hi there!” The young man Paya heard trotted in atop a cream-coloured horse, dismounting it when he exited the forest. He looked Hylian, but his accent — the same as the Twili woman’s — along with his scarlet eyes and black turquoise-lined ears gave him away as a Twylian. Bounding up to Paya with a smile on his face, he reached out a hand, only for Paya to back away violently.

“Who— who are— who are you?” she asked, stutter growing worse even through the technique. Of course it would, he was a man, and he had just tried to grab her!

And there was something else about him that made her feel uneasy.

Something she couldn’t describe.

The Twylian stepped back, his smile dropping slightly at her reaction. “I’m Link. Link Vesper. Hey, we don’t mean any harm, we were looking for Kakariko Village and—”

“Where’d you guys go?” a voice boomed from the woods, his accent guttural and consonant-heavy.

“Over here!” Link called back. “We found a Sheikah girl, and she might be able to give us directions!”

Heavy footfalls breached past the forest, and it only served to make Paya even more panicked. The Gerudo man was so tall that she didn’t even reach his chest. Not only that, but he was so muscular that they showed through the loose black robe he was wearing. And he was a man!

She could barely make a coherent sentence, but he introduced himself on his own. “My name is Ganondorf Dragmire, son of the Chief of the Gerudo, Urbosa Makeela. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, bowing his head slowly.

Paya nodded slightly, then turned her head to the Twili woman yet to introduce herself. She calmed down slightly as she focused on the woman, forcing the men out of her vision. But Paya still felt panicked, because the woman was quite beau—

“Midna,” she said. No surname? “And you?”

Even on the verge of her senses becoming overwhelmed, she knew better than to give her name to suspicious strangers. “What do you— you want?”

“We’re lost, and we were hoping you could lead us to Kakariko Village?” Link said.

“Why?”

“We were hoping to see Lady Impa. Lady Urbosa sent us, and delivered a letter beforehand,” Ganondorf said.

“Can… can I see the, uh, the— the letter?” Paya asked.

Ganondorf sighed. “Unfortunately, she delivered it by Rito mail beforehand so that we didn’t catch Lady Impa blindsided.”

Paya was growing ever more suspicious of these travellers that somehow got lost from the Kakariko Village path, and could hear a Sheikah, even if the Sheikah in question messed up. “H-how do I know you’re— you’re not lying?”

Midna nudged Link, grinning. She whispered in his ear, too quiet to be heard, but Paya was a Sheikah. “I’m doing the whole goddess-given mission shtick again.”

Link turned to her, aghast. “No! We can talk this out normally!” he whispered back.

Midna ignored him and moved closer to Paya, smiling at her. “We’re actually on a mission given to us by Her Divinity, O Courageous Farore, so we would greatly appreciate your assistance,” she said, then brought out a flat, circular emerald with a gold frame spiralling around it. “You see…”

Her words were drowned out by the blood rushing into Paya’s ears. The way they heard her, the way they kept up with her, and now the illusions? It was clear who and what they were.

In an instant, her hands flew to her Eightfold Blade sheathed behind her waist, and the only sound she could hear was folded steel cleaving the wind as she brought her sword to bear against them. Her thoughts froze, her breaths slowed, and her stance strengthened.

“You will have no mercy from my blade, Yiga scum!”

✦ ✦ ✦

What the fuck? What just—

Midna’s thoughts were cut short when the Sheikah girl rushed forward and kneed her in the stomach in the blink of an eye. She didn’t even get the time to perceive the pain before the Sheikah twisted her around, held her wrists together behind her back, and kicked the back of her knees to drop her to the Sheikah girl’s height. The chilling sensation of cold steel touched her neck, with such a careful application of pressure that it cut into her skin but didn’t draw blood.

“Surrender, or your partner dies!” the Sheikah commanded. Midna’s heart hammered against her chest. Where did the stuttering mess go? She had thought she was an easy target, but she had seen through her illusion magic in a second! Who was this girl?

Link and Ganondorf stood back, hesitating. Their weapons were drawn, but the Sheikah had placed them in a tense position.

“Look, we surrender!” Link said, dropping his sword and raising his arms. “We don’t mean any harm! I swear, we’re only looking for Kakariko, so let her go!”

No way. It was three against one — this Sheikah had zero chance of beating them all, which is why she had to take Midna hostage. It wasn’t as if Midna herself fought with honour, but she was not going to surrender to a girl more than half a foot shorter than her. She grinned at Link and Ganondorf, before letting shadow lightning form in her bound hands, and a powerful sphere shot backwards.

Now free, Midna staggered to her feet. “I got her, didn’t I?” she laughed. The other two had stunned looks on their faces. Clearly, they didn’t expect her to win so—

She barely registered the sound of paper rustling in the air before a foot smashed into her face. Midna fell to the ground, but before the Sheikah could follow through, she dived into a shadow cast by a tree. It caused the Sheikah to overextend, but she managed to bring her blade up just in time to parry Link’s strike.

In less than a second she drew a deku nut from her robe and threw it at the ground before Link could attack again. With a loud bang and a blinding flash, Midna was roughly yanked out of the shadows as if she were a fish caught on a hook and her body crashed onto solid ground. Link recovered fast, but the Sheikah was faster. Midna stood up and prepared to ensnare the speed demon, but her head was still spinning from the kick, and the Sheikah had already closed the distance. Before she could snap, the Sheikah struck her right under her chin.

Darkness enveloped Midna’s wobbling vision as she tumbled back to the dirt.

✦ ✦ ✦

Five seconds. It took five seconds from the kick to Midna’s incapacitation.

Link fidgeted his fingers on the hilt of his sword. The fact that the Sheikah was holding back was terrifying — if she was completely serious, how many times would they have died by now?

“Shh, calm down, girl,” he whispered to Ilya, leading her away from the fight before she could go completely berserk. There was no reason for this innocent mare to get caught up in the fight. A fight that Link wanted no part in.

He returned to Ganondorf’s side where he was standing, only a few metres away from the Sheikah and Midna’s unconscious body. She was looking at them coldly, vermillion eyes as hard as the steel of her now-sheathed blade.

“That girl is a monster,” Ganondorf muttered.

No — that girl was a person, and it only made her all the more frightening. “I think we’ve got no choice but to surrender,” Link said. “We know she won’t kill us, at least.”

Ganondorf chuckled, but the sound was tinged with uneasiness. “This is going to seriously wound my pride, but you’re right.” Throwing his axe to the ground, Ganondorf raised his arms. “I think you’ve made your point, Sheikah lady! We surrender!”

She completely ignored him.

The gap to Ganondorf was closed in an instant and he only barely managed to pull his arms down to block her fists. His massive size allowed him to stay put against the much smaller girl, but Link knew he couldn’t stay on the defensive forever. As soon as she swerved around Ganondorf to try to find an opening, she exposed herself to Link.

The fake opening was completely obvious, and Link instead weaved behind the Sheikah — if she spun around to defend against Link, she would leave herself completely open to Ganondorf. He had outsmarted her, and as she turned to block Link’s strike, Ganondorf threw a punch.

The second his blade moved, Link realized she had outsmarted them. She fell backwards out of his reach, right into Ganondorf’s fist, tilting her head so that his punch harmlessly grazed the side of her head. With her back against Ganondorf, she pulled him down through his overextended arm, adding his momentum to hers to whip around lightning fast and deliver a strike directly into his jaw. In two seconds, she had knocked out Ganondorf.

Link raised his blade against her. If he was going to receive a personal helping of blunt force trauma, at least he could say he went down swinging, although he wasn’t aiming to kill. She only raised her fists at him, and he struck first. She backed away, but he used her own technique of staying within close range at all times. Leaping forward at the same time she leapt back, he used his momentum to strike at her with the hilt of his sword. A punch came at his head first. He almost dodged it, but it glanced off the side of his head, only prevented from knocking him out from her backwards momentum cancelling out the punch’s forward momentum. The hilt of his sword rammed into her, but she let the strike carry on into her body, lessening the force.

That did not go as planned.

The Sheikah used one hand to grab onto the hilt as a fulcrum and used her other hand to punch the bottom of the blade upwards. The torque created by her fists forced the flat of the Sword of Shadows into its wielder’s head and Link’s vision spun, growing dark before he collapsed.

✦ ✦ ✦

Paya struggled to refocus her vision. What… happened? Her stomach hurt and her hands ached a little. Then she took notice of the three bodies sprawled on the grass, all with signs of injury from someone’s hands.

Oh, right, her hands. Right, she had been cornered by three Yiga Clan members, but luckily she had managed to fend them off! It seemed her tendency for her mind to glaze over in the middle of a fight had finally worked in her favour!

Then the memories came back to her, all at once.

Paya blinked.

They weren’t Yiga. They were nothing like how the Yiga were described — they didn’t fight like Yiga, they didn’t have Yiga weapons, and they weren’t even wearing that red Yiga uniform!

Oh Hylia.

She had just beat up three innocent travellers who were genuinely looking for help why did she go into battle mode against them she messed up she messed up she messed up—

Her wildly spiralling thoughts finally met their end, and for a moment she thought she had subconsciously successfully gone through the motions of ‘Mind of Crane.’

Then she passed out.

Chapter Text

Link was sitting on a navy blue cushion on his knees with his boots off, the traditional Necludan Sheikah way, inside a Necludan home. It was respectful to follow the customs of the people who allowed him to enter their homes, even if one of those people had given him a painful migraine.

The way they had entered Kakariko was almost comedic. After losing a three-on-one to the Sheikah, they were brought, unconscious — all four of them, the Sheikah had also somehow been knocked out — into the Shuteye Inn where they recovered from the blunt force trauma inflicted onto them by complete mistake. Ilya was the only one who had been spared, and whoever found them at least had the courtesy to board her at the local stable.

The wood-framed paper door in the back of the room slid open slowly, and a short elderly woman hobbled out, clicking her cane against the wooden floorboards. She wore a navy blue robe with beige sleeves that reached her ankles, held in place with a red sash and a clasp in the shape of an eye around her waist. The beads around her neck and the eye-shaped metal ornaments hanging from the huge straw hat on her head chimed as she slowly made her way to where Link, Ganondorf, and Midna sat.

Supporting her was a Sheikah girl — the exact same girl that had absolutely demolished them. She looked like a much, much younger version of the old woman. Her waist-length open robe was beige with red lapels and was held only by the eye clasp. Underneath her robe, she wore a navy blue top that clung to her almost as tight as shadowskin, and covered her entire neck and part of her jawline. Her white hair was rolled into a cylindrical bun and held with hairsticks. Her hands, covered with black gloves, fidgeted nervously, and vermillion eyes did their best to not make eye contact with the three travellers she beat up.

The elderly woman made her way to the centre of the room and sat on her knees on top of a pile of plush red cushions. Her eyes, the same shade as the girl’s, looked upon the visitors in her home with careful appraisal. Link couldn’t help but grow nervous from her inquisitive gaze. The tattoo on her forehead, an eye with three triangle-shaped ‘eyelashes’ and a single tear below the pupil — the Sheikah crest — seemed to search the three like a lens uncovering the truth.

“Welcome, Link, Midna, Master Ganondorf. You three have come a long way from Naboris,” the elderly woman said. Her voice, although raspy with age, still exerted great strength and competence. “Before we begin, I believe my granddaughter, Paya, has something to say to you all.”

Paya, who was trying her best to blend into the furniture, nearly leapt through the ceiling when addressed. “Yes— yes! Yes, Grandmother!” She turned two guilty eyes — three, if the Sheikah crest tattooed on her forehead counted — to the three people she had personally delivered a bad headache. Link tensed up. Was she going to snap and kill them this time?

Then she collapsed to the floor on her knees, bowing her head so low to the floor that Link thought she was trying to bury herself. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t thinking I thought you three were Yiga but I was wrong I made a terrible mistake it won’t happen again I’m sorry I don’t expect forgiveness for what I’ve done please accept my humblest apologies—” She took a deep breath of air, sucking up the dust from the floor, and began to launch back into her apologetic spiel.

“Woah! It’s okay, Sheikah lady! If it was an honest mistake, that’s fine! No lasting harm done! Besides, you managed to defeat the great Ganondorf Dragmire, so I have nothing but respect!” the Gerudo guffawed.

“Th-thank you, Master Ganondorf.” Paya shyly turned her head upwards, only to shrink back down when met with Midna’s irate glare.

“Fine. But if I ever get brain damage before I’m old and wrinkly, you’re footing the medical bill,” she said, holding a bag of ice to her chin.

“Yes, under— understood, Lady Midna.”

The whole situation was so ridiculous it could have been mistaken for a comedy. It reminded Link of the time the kids back home had accidentally hit Epona with a slingshot, causing her to run off and trample Fadel’s crops. He couldn’t help but remember their terrified faces on the verge of tears as they begged for forgiveness. The memory of home instantly subdued his mood.

“It’s fine, Paya,” he said, trying to keep his voice positive. “We could’ve acted less suspicious; some of the fault lies on us too.”

“She beat us up for asking for directions!” Midna snapped.

“You did lie to her about being on a quest from O Courageous Farore,” Ganondorf said.

“And that warrants violence, how?”

Link shrugged. “Maybe you gravely offended one of the Sheikah customs or something.”

Before Midna could retort, the elder coughed. “Paya?”

“Yes! Yes— Thank you, Master Link,” Paya squeaked. “I will now— I will now take my leave.” She got up from her prostrated position, bowed so deep she nearly folded herself in half, and then scurried off, her socks not making a single sound against the floorboards.

The elder watched as her granddaughter left, then turned her head back to the three, letting the ornaments on her straw hat chime as she continued. “Again, I would like to welcome you to Kakariko Village, the ancestral home of the Necludan Sheikah tribe. I am Kakariko’s chief, Impa.”

Lady Impa bowed her head slightly, and Link and Ganondorf returned it with a deeper bow in respect. Midna reluctantly followed suit with a shallow one.

“I have been informed of your situation by Lady Urbosa. Link, Midna, you are an impossible distance from home.”

Midna twitched in her seat. “She told you everything? In the letter?”

Lady Impa nodded. “Of the circumstances concerning the Mirror of Twilight, yes.”

Letting out a groan, Midna placed her head in her hands. “And she gave off such a ‘delicate situation’, as she called it, into the hands of a mailman?!”

“Please be assured that the letter has not been opened nor tampered with in any way. Your secrets lie safe with us,” Lady Impa said calmly. “As for your ‘delicate situation,’ I have put forward our best scholars to assist you.”

Link held his breath. Were they finally done? Could they finally leave this all behind them and go home? Was he finally—

“There is nothing we can do.”

No.

No, that couldn’t be, she was lying, this was all just a joke, they couldn’t be trapped in Hyrule forever! They had travelled for weeks, nearly gotten killed by shadow beasts, all for nothing?

Midna apparently felt the same, because her hushed voice was seething with barely contained rage. “So… nothing? We’ve come all this way for absolutely nothing?”

Lady Impa’s calm expression remained. “The knowledge of the Sheikah is vast, but—”

“Was it vast enough to know to send a letter that you knew jack shit beforehand?” Midna asked sardonically.

“—our archives are not as large, nor as extensive as that of the Hyrulean Royal Archives. There is only one person who I believe can help you now.”

Royal? By the Sols’ light, please don’t be another— “Please don’t tell me it’s who I think you’re talking about,” Ganondorf said, his tone growing cold.

“Seek out Princess Zelda at Hyrule Castle.” Lady Impa finished.

Immediately, the cozy wooden room became alight with Midna’s irritated shouts and Ganondorf’s chilly objections.

“What?! We’ve got to meet another fucking princess?! One was bad enough!”

“Lady Impa, I would reconsider that suggestion. Princess Zelda, as you can see, is clearly not someone we want to be associated with.”

So her name was Zelda, not something like Cassandra or Rosalina. Good to know.

Lady Impa narrowed her eyes. “Master Ganondorf, would you rather deal with her father, instead?”

Clenching his jaw, he let out a sharp breath and deflated. “I suppose there is no other alternative.”

On the other hand, Midna stayed completely outraged. “No, no, absolutely not! I’ve already had to deal with these assholes” — she pointed an accusatory finger at Link and Ganondorf, who sighed and chuckled, respectively — “and now I have to deal with another royal prick?!”

Link wondered why they didn’t get along with each other. After all, they seemed to have mutual feelings towards royalty, and what better way was there to bond than to hate something together?

“What do you mean, ‘another royal prick?’” Ganondorf asked.

“We’ve got nothing more to hide, I guess,” Link said. “The reason we’re even here in the first place is because of a mission given— no, forcefully negotiated onto us by the Twilaean Princess.”

Ganondorf made a low hum of disapproval, but said nothing more.

“Despite what you two might like, an audience with Princess Zelda will be in the best interests of all three of you. Do you understand?” Lady Impa asked. Her stern voice made it clear her question only had one correct answer.

“Fine,” Midna scowled.

“Very well,” Ganondorf said, his tone a forced calm.

Link only nodded. They were already in the biggest hole of their lives, filled to the brim with bomb barrels — one more Princess wouldn’t do them any more harm.

“Good. But before you leave, I have another proposal that concerns all of you — and my granddaughter, Paya.”

✦ ✦ ✦

That was the most mortifying experience of her life, even more so than the time in training she tripped on a mushroom sticking out of the dirt and flung an entire bowl of carrot and fish soup, meant to be given to Grandmother, right into the face of Cado. Or the time in training she got so lost in a forest the entire village spent a day searching for her, just for her to be only metres from the entrance the whole time. Or the time in training she had gotten so engrossed in a history book that she barely noticed a Bokoblin sneaking up on her in time. Or the time in training when she—

The memories began to make Paya hyperventilate, and she had to walk in circles on her tiptoes to calm herself down. It wasn’t ‘Mind of Crane,’ but it was her preferred way of soothing herself, and at least she was in private so no one would judge her.

Except herself. Sheikah warriors were meant to be the silent and graceful guardians of the people. Yesterday, Paya had met exactly zero of those qualities, and today, she had to beg for forgiveness from the three people she had severely wronged — in front of Grandmother, no less!

Not to mention the fact that she had nearly single-handedly caused a diplomatic incident by knocking out the Gerudo Chief’s son.

Sliding open the door to go outside, not even the summer sky could raise her downtrodden mood, and she dragged her feet across the stone paths with her head slumped downwards. It was so bad she almost collided with a little Sheikah girl, only saved from accidentally injuring yet another person by her honed reflexes.

“Woah! Paya-nee-chan!^[1] Are we playing tag today?” the girl excitedly said, beaming up at Paya.

The dejected Sheikah barely managed to pull a half-smile to her face, not wanting to hurt another person — emotionally, this time. “No— no, sorry, Cottla-chan.^[2] I’m tired, so maybe next time?” she offered.

“Paya-nee-chan, what’s wrong? Why are you so sad?” Cottla asked, her bright red eyes now filled with worry.

It turned out Paya couldn’t even disguise her expressions against the eyes of a literal child. She really was a failure of a Sheikah, wasn’t she?

“Why’d you get even sadder?!”

“Uh, I’m just really tired, Cottla-chan. See you… later?” Paya said, offering a quarter-smile to the little girl.

“Oh! Okay! But you’ll play with me after you have your naptime, right?” When Paya nodded languidly, Cottla beamed. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite, Paya-nee-chan!” the little girl called, running away to find someone else to play with.

Despite not being that far, her mood extended the distance from outside Grandmother’s house to hers so far she felt like she was walking to Termina. Entering her home, she sluggishly placed her boots on the rack next to the shoji.^[3]

“Kaa-san?” she called weakly. The kitchen and dining room were empty, not a single sign of her mother to be seen. She walked quietly past the tatami^[4] floor to the back of the house, and it was there that she nearly collided with another person.

“Careful now— Oh, hello Paya. How are you?” a man said.

“Oh— um… H-hello, Mas— Master Dorian, I’m fine. You?” Paya stammered.

The tall bearded Sheikah man looked down at her with sympathy, and it made her want to curl up into a ball. Although he wore the same casual haori as everyone else in Kakariko, the amigasa on his head was a symbol of his status as a full Sheikah warrior. That, and the Eightfold Longblade at his hip. While Paya did look up to him, he also made her feel uneasy, partly for his status and partly because he was a man. And partly because he had gotten weirdly close with her mother.

“I’m well, thank you. I was just speaking with your mother. Are you looking for her? She’s still in her lab,” Master Dorian said.

“Oh— oh, yes, thank… thank you…” Paya said, and tried to get around him.

“Oh, right, Koko and Cottla say hi, and they hope that you can play with them soon!” he said, stepping aside.

“Y-yes, tell your daughters I will, Master Do— Master Dorian.”

“Take care, Paya!” he called.

“You too!” she said. The embarrassed heat she felt dissipated as she rounded the corner. Thank Hylia he didn’t say anything about how he had to rescue her (and her victims) after she passed out in the forest.

“Hmm, replacing the steel with aluminum would make it lighter and more ductile, but the tensile strength… Dorian? What are you— Oh! Paya, you’re back— why do you look so down?” Warm vermillion eyes turned from the sheets of paper and writing on the blackboard, gazing at Paya with worry.

“Oh— oh, it’s… it’s, uh, it’s nothing, okaa-san, I was just— I’m just tired, is all…” Paya mumbled, staring at the ground.

Her mother stiffened at the formality added to how her daughter addressed her, and she waded past the piles of papers strewn messily across the floorboards of her lab to open her arms for a hug.

She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t, because then she would look even more pathetic than she already felt, and yet she stumbled forwards.

Her mother’s arms wrapped around her, rubbing circles into her back. “Kaa-san won’t judge. If there’s anything that troubles you, you know you can lean on my shoulder. I’m your mother, Paya.”

Paya just stood there, arms at her side. “I— I don’t— it’s—”

“Is it about those three travellers that came, uh, unconscious to Kakariko?” her mother asked.

She jolted, but calmed down enough to nod morosely, slowly backing out of her mother’s arms.

Her mother laughed. Before Paya’s face could turn the shade of a Hylian tomato, she said, “Oh, Paya… we’ve all made mistakes like that before!”

“But—”

“Do you think that I’m perfect?” When Paya didn’t respond, she continued, “Have I ever told you about the time I blew up the other lab to smithereens?”

Paya stared at her blankly, at a loss for words. Blown up her lab? The one in Hateno she had spent so much time away in? As in, literally? With explosions?

“Because it happened multiple times, actually. I’m still surprised that I got my degrees, a teaching position at UCH, a research lab, and got grants from the government. But, oh,” her mother cackled, “you should’ve seen the soot-covered face of Linky every time it happened! Oh, the poor kid’s probably more phosphorus than Hylian at this point!”

Doubling over in laughter, her mother knocked over a few more papers to the ground as she propped herself against a table to support herself. Paya couldn’t help but giggle, sharing in her mother’s mirth, but her mood instantly dropped when her thoughts returned.

“Kaa-san, but— but I’m supposed to be a Sheikah, and— and we’re supposed to be the silent warriors that… that…” she stammered, unable to complete the rest of her sentence.

Her mother kept a soft smile on her face as she turned to meet Paya’s nervous gaze again with a gentle one. “Then what am I, Paya? A Goron? I’m not a warrior. So what?”

Her words didn’t make it through Paya’s turbulent thoughts. “But— but… I’m training to be one… and, and…”

“So?” she said. “You don’t have to be, and I’m not one. You’re not a failure if you don’t do well as a Sheikah warrior — we don’t judge carbons for their inability to hydrogen bond, do we?”

Paya stared at her.

Her mother coughed. “I mean, we don’t judge Zora for being unable to fly, or Gorons for being unable to swim, do we? Your passion is archaeology and history, isn’t it, Paya?”

It was, but… “But, then— then Grandmother would— ah!” A gentle bop to her head stopped her from saying anything more.

“Grandmother wanted me to be a Sheikah warrior like her as well. If you think you’re a failure, then I’m a failure too,” her mother said, withdrawing the recorder in her hands from Paya’s head.

“You— you aren’t a failure, kaa-san!” Paya frantically waved her hands, trying to save herself from slipping up further.

Her mother laughed. “I was hoping you would say I was, that way we can be failures together. But,” she said, adjusting her glasses, “it’s better this way. We aren’t failures, we’re just not Sheikah warriors!”

The words finally managed to break into Paya’s mind, and she perked up from her downed mood. “Yeah! You’re right!” Then it returned immediately. “But what about Grandmother…?”

Chuckling, her mother returned to trying to clear off a small space on the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her—”

A sudden buzzing sound made Paya jump and her mother turn towards the noise with a frown on her face. “By Hylia, I’ve only just discovered something for short-range communications and she uses it at every opportunity,” her mother grumbled, clearing off a stack of messy papers that were shaking from something shuddering below it. Picking up a flat rectangular object, she pressed a button on its side and the buzzing stopped.

The Sheikah Slate, as her mother called it, was an ancient piece of technology she had unearthed with Paya’s assistance. Made of some sleek dark grey material, a rounded gap on one side gave the Slate a handle. Embossed on the back of the Slate was the Sheikah crest, its iris a bright blue, and the pupil was some black glass-like material that her mother said made the lens. But the most interesting part of the Sheikah Slate was its front, most of it covered in the same glass-like material. When the Slate was in use, the glass screen would light up, allowing the user to press the buttons on the side or even the screen itself to access the functions of the Sheikah Slate.

Her mother mostly used it for its note-taking function and its ability to take photographs, which were of much higher quality than the ones made by the huge boxy cameras that only captured fuzzy black-and-white pictures, and also took forever to develop. There were five other functions of the Sheikah Slate, but her mother refused to tell Paya what four of them were, saying they were ‘too dangerous.’

Paya wasn’t particularly fixated on technology, so she didn’t pry. The fifth function was one her mother had only discovered after creating a downgraded replica of the Sheikah Slate, which was to allow the two devices to communicate with each other, but only over short ranges — for now, her mother had said.

The Sheikah Slate buzzed again, this time in a pattern of short and long bursts. “B-R-I-N-G… P-A-Y-A…” her mother slowly said along with the rhythmic buzzing. Looking up at Paya, she shrugged. “I guess we’re talking to her sooner than expected.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Sunlight poured through the wooden-framed paper walls into the room, where the three travellers sat comfortably on a floor made of woven straw mats around a low table. Link took a sip of green tea, looking on in amusement at the way Ganondorf’s massive frame made the table and the cup in his hands look absolutely minuscule. It was like he was playing house with a child’s toy tea set. Link only stayed calm from the presence of Lady Impa sitting with them, and the way she drank her tea, quiet and composed, made him follow suit so he wouldn’t make her think he was an impolite guest.

Midna drummed her fingers against the table, irritation at being made to wait slowly growing on her face. As soon as she opened her mouth to complain, the doors slid open. Two people walked in — Paya, still trying her best to blend in with the furniture, and the other, a Sheikah woman who resembled an older, more mature version of Paya, although her skin was paler than the younger girl’s light tan. Over a high-collared beige vest, a similarly-coloured robe with red lapels flowed down past the black skirt and red tights covering her legs. Like Paya, her white hair was styled with a bun held by hair sticks, but she kept it short in a fluffy bob instead. Sat on top of her head was a gold-coloured object that resembled a masquerade mask, only that the eyeholes were replaced with small telescoping orbs with lenses.

“Hello, okaa-san,” the woman said. Her black heels made no noise as she walked towards the table in the middle of the room.

Setting down her cup of tea, Lady Impa looked up at the woman. “Purah,” she said. “It appears you have received my message.”

Purah nodded, and sat down at the table. She looked at Link curiously, before looking back at Paya and motioning for her to come over. “You wanted to talk with me and Paya? What are these three travellers doing here?”

“It is something that concerns all of you,” Lady Impa responded.

Purah adjusted her red round-framed glasses, narrowing her vermillion eyes at Lady Impa in confusion. “What for? I thought my daughter already apologized for the… incident?” Instantly, Paya dropped her gaze to her lap. “In any case, okaa-san, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. Privately.”

“Would you allow me the honours of speaking first, Purah?” When she nodded, Lady Impa continued. “As customary with Sheikah tradition, Paya is due to complete her final expedition. These three travellers are on a quest, and I would like for her to accompany them.” She turned to the three with a questioning gaze. “What do you three think?”

While Link should’ve been shocked, at this point he wouldn’t be surprised if every town they came across had a new addition to their ragtag group of adventurers. “I don’t think our quest is ending with Princess Zelda,” he said to the other two. “You saw — and felt — how Paya absolutely wrecked us. I think her joining us is a good idea.”

Ganondorf crossed his arms and gave a grunt of approval, and even Midna thought her addition to the group had some merit, but she still voiced some concerns. “Yeah, but she’s a complete mess outside of fighting! It’s not like we’re attacking everything we see on the road, are we?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Paya put her face in her hands, and Purah furrowed her eyebrows. “This entire journey is a mess,” Link chuckled. “And so are we. You’re too snappy with everyone” — Midna glared at him for that — “and Ganondorf’s too damn loud. One more mess on top of this trash heap doesn’t make it infinitely worse.”

“And what’s your flaw?” Ganondorf scoffed.

Grinning, Link leaned back. “Nothing. I’m the perfect, gallant knight of fairytales.”

Midna rolled her eyes. “If you say so, Mr. Important Hero. Anyways, I get your point. She might be a mess, but she’ll be fine. Probably.”

With a clap of her hands, Lady Impa turned to her daughter and granddaughter. “They approve. Now, Paya—”

“Absolutely not,” Purah said sternly, the warmth in her eyes rapidly receding, and switched to a language Link could not understand. Her speech was rhythmic with expressive intonation, the words and sounds similar to Twilit, but it lacked the harder consonants that gave Twilit its harshness.

Lady Impa paused to take a sip of her tea.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Against her wishes? Not yours? You may have finally decided to return and play the role of her mother, but Paya is an adult now,” Grandmother said in Necludan.

Her mother gritted her teeth. “Shouldn’t a good mother always want to protect their children, okaa-san?”

Paya didn’t like this at all. Whenever Grandmother and her mother would speak with each other, their conversation felt like a field of bombs she wanted to steer clear of forever. Unfortunately, she was forced to be here. Throwing her into the mix felt like playing with fire near said field of bombs.

She sneaked a glance at Link, Midna, and Ganondorf. Luckily, it was obvious they didn’t understand a word of Necludan, but even through the foreign words the tension in the room was palpable and they looked somewhat uncomfortable.

Grandmother placed down her cup. “That may be so, but this is a perfect chance for Paya to break out of her shell. Why are you so adamant against her going on her final expedition with these three?”

“It might be the fact that they are complete strangers?! The ones that Paya knocked unconscious, no less!”

Paya could feel her face growing considerably warmer.

“What if they hold a grudge?” her mother said, growing ever more frantic. “If they hurt my Paya, I’ll— I’ll—”

“They will not. Lady Urbosa has vouched for them. The Gerudo and Sheikah are excellent judges of character — how do you think I became Chief of Kakariko in the first place? By sword alone?”

“Okay, fine, but that doesn’t mean that her expedition won’t be dangerous! And she doesn’t want to be a Sheikah warrior in the first place, do you, Paya?” Her mother looked at her expectantly.

Paya didn’t. But at the same time, she kind of did? The Sheikah techniques helped her a lot, and knowing how to fight was useful, but she did enjoy reading books and digging around ruins more, but Grandmother had high expectations of her and so did her mother and she didn’t want to disappoint them and besides Master Link and Lady Midna and Master Ganondorf thought she was valuable and she wanted to be of help and— “Um… I don’t know?” she said quietly. That was all her turbulent thoughts had come up with?

Her mother sighed. “It’s alright. Neither of us will be disappointed if you choose another route in life. Will we, Grandmother?” She gave her a pointed look.

Grandmother gave Paya a calm smile. “Of course not. But this is a good way for Paya to spread her wings. And what of your final expedition, Purah? Was it dangerous?”

“No, but that was only because it was part of my thesis research, and I had Gorons with me the whole time!” her mother said, careful not to raise her voice too much.

“Does that not prove my point? You were not harmed inside Death Mountain itself. Her final expedition includes her interests, as she is going to see Princess Zelda and access the Royal Archives. What harm can come to her there?”

Oh Hylia, now she was excited! The Royal Archives were a vast trove of information, even more extensive than the Sheikah’s already large archives! She was going to learn so much — maybe beating up those travellers was a good idea after all! With a bright smile on her face, she silently thanked her battle-hungry subconscious. “I’ll do it! I’ll go!”

“I…” A soft smile crossed her mother’s face, but her eyes were still filled with worry. “Okay, Paya. If it’s what you want, I can’t stop you. Be safe, and please stop by before you go.”

“Good, we have reached a conclusion,” Grandmother said, switching back to Hylian, and turned to face the three travellers. “When you have sufficiently prepared for your journey to Hyrule Castle, return to me — I will give you a letter to allow an audience with Princess Zelda.”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“You seemed rather thrilled to join us.”

“Yes— yes, Lady Midna! I have a strong interest in history, so I would— I would like to see the Royal Archives! I hope that I’m not… inconveniencing you, am I?” Paya asked, as they strolled along the stone pathways of Kakariko Village.

“Well, you’re a lot better than the Gerudo prick stalking us,” Midna said, and Ganondorf snorted. “As long as you aim your fists in the right direction you’ll be fine.”

Link nudged her harshly, which only made her laugh. Was it a little mean to tease Paya relentlessly? Perhaps, but Link had grown a smart mouth in the time she had known him, and Ganondorf… her insults just bounced off him like a wall. She was happy to have someone else she could tease with impunity, even if she was a Hyrulean. The way she tried to hide her tomato-coloured face was priceless. And a little adorable.

After purchasing some supplies for the trip, they entered a clothing store, lined with mostly beige robes and high-collared sleeveless tops — she learned it was casual Sheikah wear from observing the Sheikah out and about — but there were a few tunics and hoods scattered around for travellers to buy. None of them needed clothes, so Midna didn’t know why they had to make the detour in the first place, until Paya walked up to the counter.

“Claree, I’m going on my final expedition,” Paya said to the Sheikah woman running the store.

“Oh, Paya! Congratulations! I’m so jealous, I wish I could leave the village, but… Anyways, you’re here for the Stealth Armour, then?”

Paya nodded, and Claree’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Lovely! I’ll need to take your measurements, so come to the back and we’ll get you fitted up in no time!”

“What? B-but don’t you already have my measurements?”

Claree laughed. “Who knows how much you’ve grown, Paya? You’re a big girl now; you’re eighteen years old!”

Midna was shocked that Paya was a year older than her — she would have never expected that, looking at the way Paya nervously shuffled into the back of the store, a striking contrast to the excitement evident in Claree’s demeanour, who all but dragged Paya to get measured.

About half an hour later, during which Ganondorf had left to buy souvenirs for Riju elsewhere, Midna had actually taken interest in the traditional Necludan Sheikah clothing — the robes, which she learned were called haori from the tags, were of great quality, and the high-necked tops reminded her of shadowskin with how tight they were. But there wasn’t any point in spending money in Hyrule. After Midna placed a haori back onto its rack, a thrilled Claree pushed out her latest work to show the other three.

A navy and steel blue bodysuit covered Paya’s entire figure. The Sheikah crest was drawn in bright red on her upper torso. Dark brown brass-framed metal plates covered only her shoulders, armpits, shins, and the backs of her hands, balancing armour and mobility. White wraps covered her forearms, which ran into full gloves. Her neck was wrapped by a long white scarf with one end flowing down her back. The sheath of her sword was strapped to the back of her waist.

The Stealth Armour made her look like the perfect model of a Sheikah warrior. Or it would’ve, if the suit wasn’t clinging to a girl who looked like she was trying to permanently turn invisible.

Paya pulled down the mask over her face to gulp down air. “H-how do I look?”

“Wonderful! A perfect Sheikah warrior!” Claree clapped her hands.

“Not… terrible,” Midna said, and Link gave Paya his approval as well.

After Ganondorf finished placing his goods in the Rito mailbox in the village, he rejoined them at Impa’s house. The Kakariko Chief gave Paya a letter sealed with wax stamped with the crest of the Sheikah, which she stored away. Midna didn’t know where the hell she kept it — her entire suit was one piece with no visible pockets, but she supposed that it was a Sheikah technique or something along those lines.

Before they left her house, Impa led them towards a guest room. “If the time comes if you need to return to Kakariko, it will not do for you to spend days on the road going back and forth.” Sliding the door closed, she gestured to the ceiling. “Midna, you have my permission to create a Twilight Portal in this room, but do not betray my trust by creating one elsewhere in Kakariko.”

Midna stepped back, astonished. “You know what a Twilight Portal is?”

The stupidity of her question only reached her brain once the words left her mouth, and she could’ve sworn that Impa’s lips quirked up, but she continued in her calm, patient voice. “I am much older than the Hyrule-Twilaea Split, Midna. I have seen many Twilight Portals in my lifetime. Go on, create one.”

Midna slowly weaved together turquoise lines and black squares, and with much effort, managed to create a swirling hole in the wooden ceiling. Despite the gasps forcing their way out of her lungs, she had enough energy to test its usability once, and she knew exactly who to test it with.

Ganondorf, the fool, thought she needed assistance standing when she stumbled over to him. With a malicious grin on her face, she grabbed him and they broke into squares, before flowing out of the Portal on the same exact spot.

Groaning, Ganondorf clutched his temples. “Was that really necessary?”

The smirk did not leave Midna’s face. “Of course, Dragmire. What if it didn’t work and we had to walk on foot back here?”

“Couldn’t you have tested it yourself?”

“Nope!” she said, right as the fatigue won out and she collapsed right into Link. At least he still had the brains to catch her.

Afterwards, they made their way to Paya and Purah’s house, where mother and daughter said their goodbyes. It was just a visit to Hyrule Castle; there was no need for sentimentalities!

“Kaa-san! I’m only— I’m only going to the Castle!” Paya said, her face red as she withdrew from Purah’s arms.

“I know, I know, but I can’t help but worry!” Purah said with a gentle smile on her face. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay?” When Paya nodded, she turned towards the others. “And you three! Don’t let my Paya get hurt, alright?” she said sternly.

“Kaa— kaa-san!”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Link chuckled, somewhat forced, “I’m pretty sure Paya has more than enough strength for all three of us.”

Midna would’ve said something sarcastic, but she struggled to push down the bittersweet taste in her mouth. “Will do,” was all she got out.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Flames licked at a cooking pot, where Ganondorf was leaning back against Ilya’s wooden carriage, trying to ease the slight headache he had. Paya stood far from them, doing a series of stretches. Link was next to the cooking pot in which he had put in a cut of beef, kale, a voltfruit, and beans, with a sauce made of butter and milk, finished with spices. And some dark liquid sauce Ganondorf didn’t know the name of, but recalled that it originated in the Necluda and Akkala Provinces.

Midna was usually the one who cooked their meals, adamantly refusing to let the others, especially Link for some reason, take her job. But right now she had left to check for dangers around them, leaving Link to cook, not that he had asked her for permission, but neither Paya nor Ganondorf had complained.

The meals Midna made were good, but she always made the minimum amount to keep them satisfied. The problem was, her point of reference for minimum nourishment was herself: a woman over a foot shorter than him, and half his weight.

He had brought up the issue with her before, but her only response was to call him a ‘gluttonous fuck’ and that she wasn’t his personal chef, before literally throwing the ingredients at him.

Looking at the amount of ingredients in the cooking pot, at least Link had the courtesy to make enough for all of them, taking into account everybody’s sizes.

“Why couldn’t we have just stayed at that inn?” Ganondorf asked the other two.

“Maybe it’s because you walked directly into the doorframe, and then knocked over a hanging lantern with your head?” Midna scoffed. “There’s nothing that can turn us into skeletons out there, for now.”

“You can’t blame me for those puny Hylians making everything so tiny.” And giving him headaches when things designed for Hylians met their inevitable conclusion from his size.

“Riiight. We’re lucky that Paya caught the lantern and put it out before we got hit with an arson charge. I swear, she’s the only competent person — other than me — in this group.”

“Thank you, Lady— I mean, Midna!”

“To be fair, it’s not a very high bar to cross.”

“Oh…”

Just past the bridge over the Hylia River, the group had left Kakariko with Ilya and her carriage — there were no railways coming out of the secluded village — and were camping on the west riverbank for the night as they had left the town of Wetland on the east, mostly because their antics would’ve made staying there incredibly awkward. Not that Ganondorf cared, but the other three felt differently.

Link handed an apple to Ilya, who munched on it gratefully. A day’s journey was left until they would reach the outside gates of Castle Town, where they would finally meet Princess Zelda, and probably learn nothing of value. Ganondorf was not looking forward to that meeting whatsoever.

“I mean, you’ve got this Gerudo prick, and you’ve got that—” Midna’s tone suddenly dropped dramatically. “Link.”

Link looked up to meet Midna’s barely composed gaze. “Yeah? What is it?”

“What are you doing?” she asked, a bit too calm.

“Uh, cooking for you guys? Obviously?”

“Didn’t I forbid you from doing so?”

“Yes?”

She smiled far too sweetly. “So why are you cooking?”

“I just didn’t want to make you cook for us all the time!”

“Link.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Your dish is fucking oozing and bubbling.”

Ganondorf peered down into the pot, and even Paya made her way over to see what was going on. He had to admit the thing was downright dubious in its edibility. The voltfruit was still whole, its pink shape melting from the heat. The beef, despite being a single piece, was somehow well-done in places and rare in others. Even worse, the butter and milk sauce that should’ve been somewhat appetizing was dyed a repulsive green from the kale, darkened by the other sauce. And to top it all off it was oozing and bubbling.

“You didn’t cut the voltfruit? Wait, you didn’t even peel it?!” Midna shouted, frustrated beyond belief.

“The skin makes it nutritious! In fact, the whole meal is nutritious! It’s got fruits, vegetables, meat, and beans!” Link shot back, insulted.

“Where’s the beans?”

“What?”

“Link.”

The young man named Link froze.

“Where are the beans?”

Looking back down at the bizarre concoction he called a meal, Link prodded around with the ladle. “Oh,” he said quietly. “I think they melted.”

One of Midna’s eyes twitched, and she looked like she was just about to explode. “Link? Please don’t tell me that dark sauce is what I think it is.”

Link perked up, completely unaware the Twili woman was on the verge of throttling him. “Oh! You noticed! Yeah, I managed to get my hands on a bottle of soy sauce and—”

“Why?! Why, from the heavens to hell, do you keep adding soy sauce where it doesn’t belong?!”

“What do you mean ‘doesn’t belong’? It gives it a rich and savoury meaty flavour!”

“If you wanted a meaty flavour, then why did you add the goddess-damned voltfruit?!”

“It balances out the flavours from the butter, milk, and the meat!”

“That’s not— that’s not how it— what?!” Midna threw her head back and groaned so loud Ganondorf thought the river rippled. Dropping her head back down, she turned her frustrated gaze towards him. “Dragmire. Eat it.”

He was offended. Disliking him was one thing, but to go so far as to make him swallow poison? “Why would I even consider doing that?”

“You’ll find that those blessed with great power often use it incorrectly,” she said cryptically.

Why did Midna suddenly become a sage? “Paya, you try it first,” Ganondorf said.

The Sheikah looked at him with eyes that read nothing but ‘why are you doing this to me’. He kind of felt bad, but if he was to live then Paya had to take the hit in his stead.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed.

“No! We are not hazing Paya!” Midna shouted. “Dragmire, eat it!”

“No, no, it’s— it’s fine, if Ganondorf doesn’t… doesn’t want to…” Paya mumbled, laughing extremely nervously. “Do you— do you mind if… if I, um, say a few wo— a few words before I begin?”

The other three nodded, wondering what the soft-spoken girl had to say about the abhorrent creation.

Eyes closed, she placed her hands together in prayer and turned her head to the sky. “Your Grace, O Celestial Hylia, please grant me safe passage to the Sacred Realm, for I have served you diligently. Okaa-san, I’m sorry I couldn’t be the perfect daughter, but I hope…”

As Paya continued to speak her last words, Link looked completely dumbfounded, while Midna howled with laughter, and Ganondorf could only stifle the guffaw building in his throat into a hearty chuckle. The poor girl knew she was about to die from whatever Link had made, but was willing to eat it for her companions. It was an honourable sacrifice, and he couldn’t help but respect her greatly.

“Paya, I’ll eat it,” he found himself saying.

“N-no, Master— Master Ganondorf, I can—”

“I insist.” He moved the cooking pot closer to him.

Looking down into the pot once more, he realized he had made a terrible blunder. He should have just sacrificed Paya. A single bite would definitely give him a personal audience with O Powerful Din herself, but he was hungry and the residue from the dreadful mixture would stick to whatever he made next anyway. A grimace crossed his features as he lifted a spoonful of meat covered in pale green sludge tinted black towards his mouth.

By the Seven, it somehow smelled good. And as he put the spoon in his mouth, he felt the flavours hit his tongue and soar throughout his body. The sweetness of the voltfruit, enhanced by the richness of the butter, milk, and melted bean mixture was incredibly flavorful, and prevented from overloading his taste buds from the balance of the bitter kale. It offered a perfect flavour to the meat, whose flavour was greatly improved by the soy sauce, and the random tenderness and toughness made every bite of the meat new and exciting.

“It’s good!” Ganondorf said, surprise flooding his voice, and he continued to eat spoonfuls.

A triumphant look came over Link’s face as he crossed his arms — a staggering contrast to Midna who was leaning over with her hands covering her face, and the absolute confusion on Paya’s face that he hadn’t instantly died.

“See what I mean?” she groaned. “The moron’s blessed with some kinda magic cooking ability, and he uses it to make the shittiest food in the worlds.”

“It’s not bad! I keep telling you, it’s nutritious and healthy!”

“An affront to the goddesses is what it is.”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“What is the meaning of this?” King Rhoam said far too calmly. His grip nearly ripped the black-and-white photograph in his large hands.

“It’s— it’s exactly what it looks like, Your Majesty,” a spindly councilman said, nervously tapping his fingers together on the polished ebony table. “A train in the southwestern region of Central Hyrule, bordering Gerudo Province, was attacked.”

“Attacked by who? Yiga?”

“No, Your Majesty,” a plump councilman on the other side of the long table said. “By what. Reports say the train was attacked by strange black creatures.”

“Monsters, then?” The King put down the picture and turned to a dark-haired woman in a cobalt blue uniform covered in light metal armour. “Marshal Viscen, where were your soldiers?”

The Marshal of the Hyrulean National Guard placed a gauntleted hand under her chin. “Your Majesty, this train originated in Gerudo. As such, they were under the protection of the Gerudo Guard.”

“The Gerudo deserve it for their disrespect towards Her Grace, O Celestial Hylia,” one councilman muttered under his breath.

Everyone ignored him. “How many casualties?” the King asked, flipping through the file on the table.

“Twelve wounded… so far,” Viscen responded matter-of-factly.

“So far?”

“The number of confirmed wounded. However, most left for the town of Outskirt, alongside other issues. Conflicting reports from witnesses and investigators. Most eyewitnesses cannot remember any casualties taking place; most likely due to trauma from the attack. Errors in the ticket records prevents us from comparing those that were on the train before and after,” Viscen stated.

“What terrible occurrences…” King Rhoam placed a hand to his forehead. “Now, of all times, when we are facing major unrest from Lanayru…”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” the spindly councilman said, “This is a Gerudo issue—”

“That means nothing!” the King shouted, silencing the rest of the Royal Council. “We are eight provinces, united under one central government, not eight different independent states!”

Zelda almost brought up the Hebra Autonomous Territory, but luckily she caught herself in time from arguing over semantics. Quite a bad trait of hers, to be honest.

“Gerudo is also our responsibility!” King Rhoam flipped through the file. “And there are no photographs of the monster corpses?”

“No,” Viscen said. “When they were killed, not a trace was left behind.”

“The Gerudo Guard did not see any distinguishing features?”

“The Gerudo Guard didn’t kill them.”

“Then who?”

“Well, one Gerudo Guard did. We only know her identity: Aveil Saveri, a lieutenant of the Gerudo Guard. There were three others — a Gerudo man, a Hylian boy, and a Twili woman. They left before my soldiers at Outskirt arrived.”

She was trying to stay quiet throughout the meeting, but Zelda’s breath hitched at Viscen’s report, and it took much effort to keep from fidgeting.

“What have you learned from Saveri?” the King asked.

“Nothing. She swore an Oath Under the Seven Swords to not speak a word,” Viscen replied.

“An Oath Under the Seven? So she will not speak.” King Rhoam checked over the file again. “Who did she swear it to?”

“You know her honour wouldn’t let her say.”

Zelda suspected it was the Gerudo man — an extremely easy deduction to make. But why would he need to cover their tracks?

King Rhoam sighed. “No matter. The other three; what of their current whereabouts?”

“There is nothing, Your Majesty.”

“Marshal Viscen,” the King said, his voice emanating heavy pressure into the council room, startling everyone at the table. “You and your men are ordered to find those three individuals as soon as possible.”

Viscen did not flinch, and bowed her head. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

King Rhoam stood to his feet. “Meeting adjourned!” he boomed, and the council members stood up, bowed, and took their leave. Letting his eyes linger on the last person to scurry out of the room, he then turned to his side. “Zelda, when you become queen, these are the kinds of issues you must deal with for Hyrule. Was this a good learning opportunity?”

Zelda swallowed down an exasperated sigh. “Yes, Father.”

He nodded, and moved past her through the double doors, leaving her alone in the council room.

Almost alone. “You flinched at my report, Princess,” the Marshal said, her metal boots echoing against the tile-patterned floor. “Something on your mind?”

Viscen Dearc was the second-youngest to assume the position of Marshal. Impressive in its own right, even more so as a not insignificant number in the high command still believed that ranks in the army should be considered more by blood than merit — Viscen’s roots were in Holodrum and Subrosia, evident by the darker shade of her skin. First place was held by one of her ancestors, Ashei Dearc, who was promoted after her role in the Siege of Hyrule Castle during the Age of Twilight. While she was much older than Zelda, the two were rather friendly with each other, and Viscen would chat with her often — that is, if she wasn’t out and about with her soldiers.

Combined with her experience, it also gave her the eyes of a hawk. “No, not particularly,” Zelda replied, attempting to keep her face as expressionless as possible.

Viscen hummed, but she didn’t look convinced. “You know, I’m not one for these underhanded politics.” She changed the subject, leaning against the table.

“What do you mean?”

Viscen snorted. “Don’t play coy, Zelda. I know you know why this was a Royal Council meeting and not a National one.”

Obviously. Zelda wasn’t stupid, nor was she the naive privileged child most thought her to be. “The balance of power,” she responded.

Viscen put her hands out and laid them flat, mimicking the plates of a scale. “That’s all it is, isn’t it? Parliament hears about this, and…” She raised one hand, and lowered the other. “There goes more power to Parliament, and less to the Royal Family!”

Zelda chose her next words carefully, in order to be as neutral as possible. “I don’t enjoy what is happening either.”

“And I’m sick of it,” Viscen sighed, leaning her hands back against the table. “Forgive my language, Your Highness, but Lanayru— Lanayru is a shitshow. The Zora are bleeding, and Prime Minister Cole and King Rhoam want to play games with each other instead of sending aid immediately? It’s all so… When I enlisted as a knight, I hoped to defend Hyrule against external threats. Not internal ones.”

When Zelda didn’t reply, Viscen gave her a weak smile. “Sorry for putting all of this on you, Zelda. I just don’t know who else I can talk to, considering my rank.”

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine!” Zelda waved a hand. “I really don’t mind, Viscen.”

“Thank you, Princess. Take care of yourself.” She pushed open the doors and left Zelda all alone in the room.

Time was ticking. Zelda made her way out of the council room, through the massive hallways of Hyrule Castle.

“Shouldn’t you be getting to bed, Your Highness?”

“Sorry, Amea! Urgent business in the Archives!” she called, speedwalking past her maid.

“Alright, but don’t take too long! A consistent sleep schedule will keep you healthy!”^[5]

“Yeah, yeah,” Zelda grumbled playfully before going down the stairs into the basement where the Royal Archives were. The guards stationed at the doors saluted her, and pushed open the doors. The smell of old books permeated every molecule of air in the chamber, but the massive library was rather clean and dustless.

“Oi, I thought I told those guards to keep anyone from entering the Archives right now. I’m busy, yeah?” Looking down at an open book on a table, a man with his dark hair slicked back turned his head towards Zelda, eyes widening as he realized who had entered. “Oh— oh! Your Highness, my apologies, I didn’t realize it was you, I am truly sorry!”

Zelda laughed behind one hand, the other waving him off. “No, Andran, it’s alright. I know you prefer to be left alone while studying. Unfortunately, so do I, and I have some urgent business that needs to be conducted in the Archives. Privately.”

“Don’t worry, Your Highness, Ooccio and I can—”

“Privately,” Zelda repeated, dropping her voice.

The scholar gulped, adjusting his glasses, before heaving his pile of books into his arms with a grunt. “I’ll tell the guards to make sure no one else enters, yeah?” When Zelda nodded, he called out, “Come on, Ooccio! We’ll finish this in the main library!”

“But Archive materials must be kept in the Archives!” a small cucco-like bird with a Hylian-like head squawked, flapping its small wings on the table.

Andran tutted, before dropping the pile back onto the table. “Don’t take too long, Your Highness!” he called.

Once Viscen’s cousin left with his Oocca friend, Zelda pulled out Urbosa’s letter, which she had kept hidden on her body ever since she read it. The people whom the letter concerned were likely the three travellers who had defeated the monsters on the train, and according to the letter, were seeking out Lady Impa for answers considering their situation.

Of course, Kakariko’s archives were nowhere near as extensive as that of the Royal Archives, and Zelda doubted they would find answers there. That meant that soon, Lady Impa would direct them to her — something Urbosa had thought as well, which is why she sent the letter.

Zelda searched through the books and scrolls of the section that contained the years of the Age of Twilight in the Archives, looking at covers and flipping through pages. ’History of the Temple of Time’? Not relevant. ‘Accounts From the Siege of Hyrule Castle’? Maybe, but probably had nothing. ‘Soup Recipes: Snowpeak Edition’? Why was this in the history section?

Urbosa’s letter, aside from describing their quest to find a Mirror of Twilight, had also contained two other additional pieces of paper — one, a fuzzy black-and-white photograph of… some long black thing, and the other was most likely an illustration of the object. A severed black arm with long claw-like nails coming out of its gangly fingers, thick midnight black lines wrapping around it like veins, and half of it decomposing into some kind of cancerous sludge, was drawn in such detail that it nearly made Zelda sick when she first saw it.

Without evidence, she couldn’t say for certain, but she suspected that whoever or whatever this arm belonged to had attacked the three on the train.

She pulled multiple books from the shelves that caught her attention and placed them on the table. To see how much reading time she had, she glanced at a clock.

Fifteen minutes to midnight.

She flipped open the first book and began to read, but her mind soon wandered back to… everything else, really.

Two Twilaeans, forced into Hyrule through a Mirror of Twilight now destroyed and lost to the sands, or so they hoped. Deadly unknown black monsters that left no physical trace of their existence. The crisis still occurring in Lanayru. The wheels of destiny were turning, and the scales of power were shifting.

Link Vesper. Ganondorf Dragmire. Midna… surname unknown. If Hyrule’s future was a game, then they were the wildcard, and Zelda hoped they were part of the winning hand.

Chapter Text

It was a testament to his patience that he hadn’t lost his mind yet. Ganondorf hadn’t been to Castle Town in quite a while, and it pained him how he could forget something as aggravating as bumping shoulders with nearly every person walking down the streets. Actually, their heads bumped into his arms and chest. While there were some Rito, Zora, and Gerudo out and about, almost everyone else in the packed crowds was two feet shorter than him, and if it wasn’t so frustrating, he would almost be impressed as to how these Hylian fools could manage to be so nearsighted. And it wasn’t even a holiday, either.

“By the Sols’ light! What’s with the amount of morons running around? Can’t we move a little faster?” Midna said, having submerged herself in the shadows to avoid being trampled.

Having been forced to board Ilya at a stable outside the gates of Castle Town, aside from Ganondorf’s stature — which proved useless — there wasn’t much they could do to part the horde. That is, unless they wanted to gain a few assault charges, but Ganondorf doubted that would help them in any way, shape, or form.

As for Paya, the poor lady had gotten swept away in the crowds no less than four times, and every time she got lost, she would nearly shoot into the sky when anyone other than Midna would pull her back. She had also adamantly refused Ganondorf’s offer to carry her. With no other practical alternative, to her great reluctance and humiliation, they had decided to leash her like a dog. Midna had laughed so hard tears streamed down her face when the rope was tied, but Link had given his approval — although he was smiling the entire time.

“I think I see an opening!” Paya said, running forward and nearly yanking Ganondorf off his feet. He could not understand where her tiny frame stored all of her strength. She weaved her way through the gaps between a few more people, who narrowly avoided being bowled over by Ganondorf following along. They made their way into Castle Town’s central square, where the swarm of people in the South Road turned out to be a disorganized line waiting to enter a large store on the side.

“Come on down to Malo’s! Everything from ten, twenty, thirty, and even forty percent off on the Hero of Discounts' Gale Sale! Come quick, come fast, because goodies are going to be flying off the shelves like the Gale Boomerang!” a pompous-looking twig of a Hylian called out through a megaphone, standing behind a wooden barrier so he didn’t get crushed by rowdy customers.

“What even is that…?” Link had the most dumbfounded look on his face. “It’s worse than Kara Kara!”

“Big brand name store back from when the Hero-King of Twilight was still kicking around. It used to be called Malo Mart, but now it’s just Malo’s to be… more down-to-earth with their customers, I suppose. Story goes that he funded it himself, and now it’s…” Ganondorf tapered off, unable to find a less harsh word to describe the store.

“R-really wild?”

“A monument to Hyrule’s materialism.”

That last one was a much better descriptor than the choice words he had on the tip of his tongue. Ganondorf could not fathom how Hylians were so willing to spend their time standing around in queues being pushed around, only to spend their money buying fancy trinkets. However, he couldn’t exactly fault the owners of Malo’s for taking advantage of their consumeristic behaviour. The only issue was Kara Kara had already fallen to their desires, and Naboris was losing the battle of attrition fast. Utterly abhorrent.

Finally breaking through the crowd, they passed the large fountain displaying the Hyrulean Royal crest — a stylized depiction of a bird, wings spread out forwards, with its head replaced by the three triangles of the Triforce. A fitting image of how the Royal Family would kill a piece of nature to replace it with their avarice.

Soon after, they made it to the front gates of Hyrule Castle, where, as expected with Hylian tradition, there was a line standing around on a bridge over the Castle moat. Out of the corner of his eye, Paya — who had untied herself without a word, refusing to make eye contact with anyone — shuddered, trying her best to keep her gaze level.

“Paya? Are you alright?” Link asked. He began to move his hand towards her, but quickly stopped.

Paya still noticed and jerked back slightly. “S-sorry, Mast— um, Link, it’s a… a, uh, reflex…”

“No, it’s alright, don’t worry about it. Was there something wrong? You looked nervous — well, even more than usual.”

Still keeping her eyes straight ahead, she lowered her voice. “There are archers hidden on the gate towers.”

Ganondorf looked up, pretending to be gazing at the clouds. Small windows were placed on the towers on either side of the gate, but he saw nothing until the metal glint of a soldier’s helmet shone into his eye for the briefest moment. Imperceptible to all, except the Sheikah girl in their team. Paya continued silently staring straight ahead, but Ganondorf looked at her incredulously. Social skills on the level of a spooked sand seal, but combat skills that could defeat a legion of Gerudo warriors without making a single sound. Paya was an enigma, and he wondered if it was all an act.

But there were bigger fish to fry, like a Mirror-shaped salmon… or a Zelda-shaped reekfish. As they got closer and closer to the guards at the gates, it took more and more effort to keep his expression steady.

“I-I lost the letter!” Paya cried, frantically searching her bodysuit for the envelope.

“Well of course you did!” Midna huffed, having popped out of the shadows. “Where did you even keep it in the first place?!”

Paya looked up at her with the weakest fake smile Ganondorf had ever seen. “Um… lady’s secret?”

“What does that even—”

“Excuse me!” One of the guards at the gate cleared his throat. “If you have no proper documents explaining your reason for entry, then I ask you to leave the line!”

“Hold on,” another guard said, nudging his colleague. “Isn’t that… Ganondorf Dragmire?”

Before the other guard could respond, Ganondorf interrupted. “Yes, that is I. Second-in-command to the Chief of the Gerudo,” he said in his most authoritative voice.

“Let them through. Her Highness has been expecting them.”

Zelda was expecting them…? That did not bode well for them, Ganondorf least of all. He tried to keep his expression level as the guards let them pass through the gates.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Link did not like this one bit. Being out in the open wasn’t a big deal, but the way Paya’s breath quickened with every step they took up the winding stone pathway to the Castle made him nervous too. ‘They’re watching us,’ she had said ominously. Midna didn’t try to calm her down, and he certainly couldn’t. The thought of meeting Princess Zelda put him on edge, especially since he had no plan unlike when he first entered the Palace of Twilight. And with his and Midna’s origins? He might as well be sprinting straight into a lit fire carrying a bomb.

Every gatehouse they passed, every time they were searched, combined with the long walk to the Castle proper wore at his nerves more and more.

He checked his pocket watch out of habit — fifteen minutes to twelve.

Neither that nor the chatter of other people around the four of them calmed him in the slightest, as his racing thoughts were elsewhere. What was Princess Zelda like? What was her father like? Why didn’t Lady Impa and Ganondorf like him? Were they supposed to meet him too? No, the biggest question was: were they even going to learn anything?

As they finally reached the Castle’s front entrance, Link couldn’t help but liken the way his stomach felt to the two waterfalls on each side of the pathway leading to the front steps — in freefall. The pristine white marble-tiled atrium, where golden chandeliers hung from the tall ceiling. The long carpeted hallways, covered in oil paintings and lit by sunlight shining through ornate windows. The chatter of guards, soldiers, nobles, and servants around the Castle. The spiralling staircases, the open antechambers, and now, the polished wooden double doors. It was all a blur to him, and as the guards pushed open the doors into Hyrule Castle’s sanctum, ironically, this was where he felt the calmest.

Seemingly stretching upwards into the sky, the sanctum was a huge circular room carpeted in a pristine red with the Triforce carved in stone in the centre of the chamber. Staircases leading to balconies leading to more staircases leading to more balconies overlooked the sanctum. Gold-bordered banners of red and royal blue adorned with the Hyrulean Royal Crest in gold hung from the stone railings of the balconies. Soldiers, servants, and nobles milled about on every floor, but only guards stood at attention in the large corridor in the back of the room. The sunlight pouring in from the stained glass windows and the arched glass roof did not warm Link in the slightest as he and his companions moved forwards, walking along the long red carpet that led to the throne.

There were two small flights of stairs, one after the other, and at the top there was a large statue depicting the Triforce in a polished golden bronze. Circling the Triforce, three women carved in marble grasped one triangle of the Triforce each — portrayals of the Golden Goddesses, Link realized. They were distinctly Hylian with pointed ears, and looked nigh identical.

That was not how Link imagined them.

He always thought of the Golden Goddesses as somewhat Hylian, having created the land of Hyrule after all, but with some of the traits of their respective peoples — O Powerful Din would have the stone arms of the Gorons and the talons of the Rito, O Wise Nayru would have the fins and the gills of the Zora, and O Courageous Farore would have the dark skin and emerald eyes of the Gerudo. But the Hyrulean Royal Family was Hylian, and he supposed they only saw the Golden Goddesses in their likeness.

In front of the statue were two large thrones, one empty, the other occupied by who Link assumed to be King Rhoam of Hyrule, considering his golden crown and black gold-lined robe. His large stature and commanding presence was akin to a Lynel made Hylian, and his long, thick white hair combined with his huge white beard indicated his wisdom and power.

On the King’s left, a smaller throne sat, occupied by the Hylian Princess herself. Light blonde hair, almost white in the sunlight, fell elegantly around her shoulders and framed her forehead like curtains, where a golden circlet with a large ruby sat. Her long white dress covered by a purple apron sash in combination with her pale and youthful visage gave her the impression of purity and innocence, but Link knew better. Especially after meeting Princess Oriana. Unlike Lady Urbosa, whose sharp gaze pierced into his spirit, Princess Zelda’s royal blue eyes searched the four of them with wisdom unparalleled, as if she was slowly peeling back the layers of their characters like the pages of a book. Link couldn’t decide which unnerved him more.

The four of them bowed to the two Royals and introduced themselves — Link, uneasily; Midna and Ganondorf, reluctantly; Paya, the epitome of anxiety.

It was Princess Zelda who spoke. “Link Vesper. Midna Rasac. Ganondorf Dragmire. Paya Tsuruza. I, Princess Zelda, bid you fondest welcome to Hyrule Castle,” she said, her voice cordial and elegant like a morning bird’s song. The only question was where she was hiding her talons. “I have been expecting you… four from Lady Urbosa’s written word.”

Despite keeping his gaze firmly on the Princess, Link could feel the tension rising from his side. “Why did we need the detour to Kakariko then?!” Midna hissed, too quiet for the Princess to hear.

Or so he thought. She must have heard something, because she frowned slightly, but quickly recovered into the calm smile every princess seemed to wear constantly. At least hers had more expression than Princess Oriana’s. “Would you four care to join me in the council room? From what I’ve been told, we have important matters to discuss.”

Perhaps the pressure of having two of Hyrule’s most powerful individuals watching their every move became too much, because nobody said anything, clearly waiting for anyone else to say the first word.

“It would be our pleasure, Your Highness,” Link finally said. He stood, bowed again, and his companions did the same.

Through side doors leading out of the throne room, Princess Zelda and King Rhoam led them towards two large wooden doors, which were pulled open by guards. Inside was a dark wooden table Link was pretty sure was longer than his house, and golden chandeliers that were probably more valuable than Ordon itself swung from the high ceiling. At the end of the table, the King took a seat in the largest chair, and Princess Zelda took the one to the side.

Silently, the four of them subtly fought over who would have the (dis)pleasure of sitting closest to the two Royals, with Ganondorf losing and having to sit directly opposite Princess Zelda, right next to King Rhoam. Paya won the battle, and sat the furthest away.

“Well then, let us begin. It appears you four have travelled quite the distance, from Gerudo to Hyrule Castle. Send Lady Urbosa my regards, young Master Ganondorf,” the King said. “What business does she bring to us?”

Ganondorf’s smile did not come close to reaching the rest of his face as he bowed his head. “Of course, Your Majesty, she will be glad to receive your respects. Princess Zelda,” he said, subtly stretching out her name, “we were sent by Lady Impa of the Necludan Sheikah, but her letter, addressed to you, has unfortunately gone missing. Thus, I am… appreciative that Lady Urbosa had the foresight to inform you beforehand and for you to give us your summons. First of all, what has she informed you of?”

“Father,” Princess Zelda said, turning to the King, “I ask that you leave the five of us be to chat— this is a private matter between, ah… the new generations of Hyrule’s leaders?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Zelda, I have the right to speak with them as well,” he said, and pointed his gaze at Ganondorf. “My question was not answered. What business does Lady Urbosa bring to us?”

“Apologies, Princess Zelda, but I would like to know what Lady Urbosa has discussed with you first.”

“Master Ganondorf, please answer the question, and then my daughter will speak.”

“Please understand, Your Majesty, I do not wish to make redundant—”

“By Solara’s radiance, just get on with it already! Is talking in circles the only thing you pricks know how to do?!” Midna buried her head in her hands, rubbing her temples with her thumbs.

The King turned towards her, face slowly scrunching up. “Excuse me—”

Link interrupted before Midna could begin her verbal battle against the King. “I apologize, Your Majesty, but we’ve done this same act three times, counting today. I think we’d all like it if we were to get it over with. Princess Zelda, you know exactly who we are and where we’re from, from Lady Urbosa’s letter, is that right?”

The King began to speak against the second impolite guest, but Princess Zelda coughed. “Well, Mr. Vesper,” she said politely, “It would be proper if you were to speak more respectfully towards the King of Hyrule. Nonetheless, before we continue” — Zelda turned to the King — ”Father, it may be best if you were to leave. Like I said, this is a private matter between young leaders — I would like to be able to use my political teachings to good use.”

“Zelda, what do you—”

Doing his best not to imitate Midna, Link struggled as he tried to keep his head from dropping into his hands. They were not doing this charade for the fiftieth time. “Your Majesty, Your Highness,” he interrupted, throwing caution to Farore’s winds, “Midna and I are from Twilaea. We arrived in Hyrule not too long ago with the use of a Mirror of Twilight.”

Link leaned back in his seat, waiting for the expected fallout from the bomb being placed right on the Hyrulean Royal Family’s fancy tables.

As anticipated, the King stopped speaking, attempting to keep the bewilderment from showing on his face. Paya, who knew nothing about this, stared at him and Midna with her jaw dropped. Princess Zelda sighed, and for the life of him, Link could not figure out why she wanted to keep it from her father. At this point, hiding it from them — from anyone really — was useless. They would try to help them, and then send them to someone else like a father telling their child to ask their mother instead.

For the third goddess-forsaken time, Link explained their origins and the whereabouts of the Mirror of Twilight. To Link’s surprise, King Rhoam then asked about the ‘unknown monsters that destroyed a train in southwestern Central Hyrule’.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Us three — me, Midna, Ganondorf — were forced to fight and kill them. We’re sorry for those who lost their lives on that train.”

“We, the people of Hyrule, thank you for saving many more. However, my soldiers would like to know, what exactly were those monsters?”

“Beasts who followed us from Twilaea. They’re our responsibility — another reason why we need to return home as soon as possible,” Link said.

“I see. It is a terrible situation you have found yourselves in. Of course, we will do everything in our power to assist you. What is it exactly that you are in need of?”

“Lady Impa sent us here for the Royal Archives. We’re hoping that you have information on the Mirrors for us.”

“Very well. You will be directed towards the Archives afterwards.” The King cleared his throat. “If it’s not too presumptuous, I have one request to make of you. Would you please continue to keep your identities as Twilaeans a secret? Hyrule does not need an issue as precarious as yours made public in addition to our current… predicaments.”

Link’s eyes shone with a wicked glint. The dragons had exposed their necks. “Of course, Your Majesty. We fully understand. On another note,” he said, not-so-subtly changing the subject, “Our quest has drained our finances quite significantly. Our estimates put us at around…” Link rubbed his chin and counted his fingers, pretending to run calculations. “...a need of 10,000 rupees.”

If he was to be completely honest, he had never even held a thousand rupees before the so-called ‘negotiation’ with Princess Oriana. Asking for ten times that was a tall order, but he had to go big or go home.

Well, going home was the more preferable option, but still.

“15,000 rupees,” Midna interjected. “3,750 per person.”

A raise?! Link thought, half bewildered and half impressed by her audacity.

“Um… I-I don’t think we need that much— Ouch!” Paya’s objection was cut short when Midna kicked her under the table.

The enraged expression of the King began to regrow on his face. “I apologize if I am misunderstanding, but may I ask: are you two extorting us?”

“Of course not, Your Majesty! That’s a serious accusation to make against lost souls who simply are trying to find their way home! We hate to do this, but our circumstances make it so getting money is difficult…” Midna said, trying to look as miserable as possible.

King Rhoam didn’t seem convinced, and his eyes narrowed further. “Did you not receive help from Lady Urbosa? Could you not sell monster parts, look for precious materials, or consider assisting the people of Hyrule here and there?”

Link pushed down the exasperation from showing on his face. Midna would probably kill him if he had to spend that much time making money. “Your Majesty, Lady Urbosa has been very generous, but circumstances like the train attack have cost us greatly. Moreover, doing other things for money wastes time on our journey to return home. Every additional second we stay in Hyrule is a second our situation becomes that much more dangerous,” he said.

“Forgive my assumptions. Your needs are understandable, but the Royal Family has no funds to spare for every issue that reaches our walls,” the King responded.

Link stayed silent and faked a guilty look, letting Midna come in and strike at the jugular. “I completely understand, Your Majesty. But we wouldn’t be asking this if we weren’t in such a tight spot, and if you weren’t known for being such a generous and benevolent king. I’m really sorry, but there’s no one else we can really ask,” she finished, bowing her head.

Strike blocked. “As I said, even in spite of your circumstances, we cannot possibly allocate such a large amount to you two,” His expression hardened, and his voice deepened. “We are a government, not a charity.”

They were losing him! Link racked his brain to try to think of an appropriate response that would get them back on the right track, but their attack was failing fast.

Then a third front opened.

“There has been much strain on this great nation as of late, Your Majesty,” Ganondorf said calmly. “Especially after the Hyrule-Twilaea Split, the subsequent crises, and of course, the tragedy that is currently occurring in Lanayru.”

“What is it you want to say, young Master Ganondorf?” The King had an edge to his voice.

With a sigh, Ganondorf crossed his arms. “It is unfortunate, but due to circumstances outside of your control, people are losing trust in the Royal Family. You may not be a charity, but one of the responsibilities that many in Hyrule look to you to perform is the welfare of the people. Am I incorrect in believing, no, understanding that the stability of this great kingdom comes not only from its leaders, but its people, and the respect they show for who governs their land?”

“That does not mean I can give the peoples’ taxes to whomever asks for it.”

“Your Majesty, I understand you are a rational king. But such ruthless pragmatism will alienate you from the hearts of the people. At the very least, if not for the wellbeings of the Twilaeans, then the wellbeing of Hyrule.”

To give his argument slightly more credence, Ganondorf pulled a notebook from within his robe, and tapped it. “Inflation… Gerudo train repairs… supplies… shelter…” he said slowly with a frown and furrowed eyebrows. Placing the notebook back into his pockets, he clasped his hands together, placing them on the table with a serious expression. “We ask for 20,000 rupees, Your Majesty.”

King Rhoam remained silent for a moment, then he nodded. “Very well. 20,000 rupees, for the benefit of Hyrule’s continued prosperity. I do hope you do not misuse Hyrule’s generous contribution,” he warned.

Link struggled not to grin, as the King didn’t know the notebook page was just a souvenir list for Riju.

Ganondorf smiled politely. “Of course not, Your Majesty.”

When King Rhoam got up from his seat and turned towards the door, Link sank back in his chair with a relieved sigh.

Midna gave him a mischievous grin before turning to Ganondorf. “I have to give you credit, Dragmire,” she whispered. “That wasn’t bad.”

Ganondorf raised his eyebrows. “Was that a compliment from you, Midna?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “I’m only surprised that your head isn’t as thick as your muscles.”

As the six of them followed King Rhoam out of the council room, Princess Zelda turned back to look at them with an expression of disbelief covering her entire face. While Paya had the expression of a deflated ball, Link turned his head to hide his smirk and Ganondorf kept a stoic smile, but Midna let the Princess see her sneer in full.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“You two are from Twilaea?!” Paya whispered in astonishment. “And you’re trying to find a missing Mirror of Twilight?!”

Hylia’s grace, this was even better than she had hoped for!

She might’ve just been an (incredibly unwilling) accomplice in the extortion of the Royal Family…

…but she got to go through the Royal Archives and (accidentally) joined a quest to find another Mirror of Twilight after the last one had disappeared in the ancient ruins of the Arbiter’s Grounds! It wasn’t what she was specifically interested in, which was the Age of Sky, but she was going to learn so much about the Age of Twilight, even better that she could do it hands-on alongside two Twilaeans!

“Why do you look so excited about that?” Midna said coldly. “Does us being stranded in another world make you happy?”

Paya flinched, not expecting the hostility. “I-I, uh… didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that…” she stammered, weakly waving her arms in surrender.

“At least someone’s having fun,” Midna scoffed, as she pulled a worn book from the shelves, throwing it onto a nearby table with a loud thud. Paya didn’t respond, choosing to back off as far as she could to another shelf instead.

After the meeting, King Rhoam had left to attend to his royal duties, leaving the four of them with Princess Zelda. She led them through Hyrule Castle deep underground into a chamber that was as large as the Castle’s sanctum. Paya had stopped and stared, her eyes shining in amazement when she first stepped foot into the Archives. It took her a while to take in the corridor running from one end of the Archives to the other, flanked by shelves upon shelves of books, files, scrolls, paintings, and all kinds of other literature.

Even if Paya was given a thousand years alone in the Archives, she doubted she could come close to even grasping half of all the material that filled up the hidden library. Her mother had taken her many times to the massive library of the University of Central Hyrule, and while their selection was greater than that of the Royal Archives, their contents were more general and definitely would not hold a candle to the depths of the information the Royal Family kept close to them.

Lanterns made of luminous stone prevented the risk of the books catching on fire, although Paya suspected there was a mechanism that removed all oxygen from the room in the most dire of cases. It was an incredibly morbid thing to think about, but as an aspiring archaeological historian, she could… somewhat understand.

The dim light emanating from the carved lamps gave the grand Archives a rather modest feel, like it was an old village library instead of the greatest collection of literature and history in all of Hyrule if not the entire world. The well-kept wooden shelves were separated by era, then by years, then by contents, depending on whether they concerned historical accounts, artifacts, weapons, places, or a multitude of other topics, all organized with a robust numbering system to make sure everything stayed neat and orderly. Kaa-san could learn a thing or two about organization from this, Paya thought with a smile.

As the others looked through the shelves of the section containing the years pertaining to the Age of Twilight, Paya looked around the place before pulling a book of her own. Strangely, she felt no presence other than the other four, but Princess Zelda had probably made the Archives off-limits to the scholars for the time being. The vast emptiness of the Archives right now put Paya’s mind slightly on edge. Every corner was a place someone could be lying in wait, especially a Sheikah warrior. It wasn’t improbable that someone could evade her detection — surely the Princess would be guarded at all times. Still, it was better than the throne room — her heart had threatened to break out of her chest from the amount of hidden Sheikah guards she had felt watching them when they were paying their respects to the King and the Princess.

One book caught her eye, and she propped up a ladder against the shelves to climb up to it. Delicately grabbing its spine, she attempted to pull it out — it wouldn’t budge, just her luck as always. She put a little more force into it, and it flew out of the shelves, but her sharp reflexes caught it before it could hit the opposite shelf. Unfortunately, she had not accounted for her movement to also move the ladder, and her stomach lurched as both of them slowly began to fall backwards. Paya glanced back to gauge her landing, and her heart leapt into her throat when she realized she and the ladder would fall directly onto Princess Zelda, who was ignorant of the looming danger as she perused the Archives.

In one swift motion, she leapt off the falling ladder onto the ground and caught it with both hands before it could hit Princess Zelda. A flash of brown falling through the air caught her eye, and she whipped around to kick away the book she had apparently thrown in the air before it could land directly on the Princess’ head.

A relieved exhale left Paya’s lungs, and she gave a silent ‘thank you’ to O Celestial Hylia that she was saved from giving another leader a head injury. “Your Highness, are you alright—” Paya stopped when she realized how they were positioned. She hadn’t dropped her leg from the kick, and it stayed in the air inches away from the Princess’ head, and Paya slightly tilted her head up to lock eyes with her.

As expected of royalty, Princess Zelda was mesmerizing. Her light blonde hair reflected the soft glow of the luminous stone lights, making it seem as if her silky strands were the scattered rays of a setting sun over a field of sunflowers. Her pale face, free of blemishes or imperfections, was flawless as if O Wise Nayru had decreed its creation, and her lips, parted in surprise, closed into a soft, gentle smile. And her eyes, well, I could swim endlessly in that ocean of shimmering royal blue—

Is there something wrong with me?!

With a speed so fast that Grandmother would’ve been impressed, Paya dropped to the floor and all but slammed her head on the ground in a typical Necludan display of a deep apology. “I… I… I’m so sorry, Your Highness! Please forgive— please forgive my insolence!” she whimpered, doing her best to keep her burning red face hidden from the Princess. On the bright side, her pathetic gesture would at least keep her head firmly attached to her shoulders.

Hopefully, she thought as her entire form trembled.

Princess Zelda laughed, a dulcet sound that soothed Paya’s nerves. “It’s quite alright, Ms. Tsuruza. In fact, I do believe I have to thank you for protecting me with such a graceful demonstration of the skill of a Sheikah,” she said. When Paya didn’t stand up, Princess Zelda tapped her back.

Despite not being a man’s touch, Paya still nearly shot through the ceiling of the Archives, only just stopping herself when she remembered that she was in the presence of the Princess of Hyrule. “Yes, Your Highness! Thank you, but it is my duty as a citizen of Hyrule to protect its princess!” she said way too quickly.

Princess Zelda giggled again, then walked over to the book Paya had kicked away and picked it up. “Please do take more care of the Archives’ materials in the future, yes?”

“I’m— I’m sorry, Your—”

“I’m only teasing, Ms. Tsuruza,” Princess Zelda said, flipping through the pages of the old book. “‘Sunset Reflections: Physics of the Mirror of Twilight,’ hm? An interesting choice; I’m sure it will be helpful.” She pursed her lips. “Tell me, how much do you know about the properties of the Mirrors of Twilight?”

“Not a lot, Your… Your Highness. I guess all I know is that they were, um, portals to Twilaea? I-I’m sorry, I’m only really interested in their history, so…” Paya’s voice fell to a murmur, unable to think of what to say next.

“You’re interested in history?” Princess Zelda asked. When Paya nodded, her eyes brightened. “That’s wonderful! So am I! I’m particularly partial to the Age of Twilight, myself. Did you know that it was commonplace for people back then to hold cuccos over their heads to glide long distances in the air? It completely amazes me, the ingenuity of our ancestors — perhaps they used the physics behind the cuccos to develop the first paragliders…”

As Princess Zelda continued talking, Paya struggled not to interrupt with her own theories on how the cucco-gliding technique was likely derived from the large birds the people of the Age of Sky rode on, but she kept her mouth shut. She wanted to talk about their shared interest in history, but nobody, aside from her mother, liked it when she would rave about her special interests, and she certainly didn’t want to annoy Princess Zelda of all people.

“…so my theory concludes, the first paragliders had attempted to utilize a mechanically-powered flapping mechanism for its wings, most likely to mimic a cucco’s flight. However, users found that it was too energy-intensive and inefficient. Thus, their inventors changed to the fixed-wing design we have today, allowing for a good trade-off between lift and velocity, and stamina usage. How fascinating — engineering isn’t all theory!” Princess Zelda finished, looking at Paya expectantly.

While she had listened intently, Paya had not said a word the whole time, and was now at a loss for what to do. Was she supposed to respond with her own ideas? No — she would risk rambling on and on and becoming a nuisance to Her Highness.

Thankfully, Midna gave her a way out, even if by accident. “Quit yapping and start reading!”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

A few hours later, the shelves in the ‘Age of Twilight’ section of the Royal Archives had been entirely stripped, save for the useless, filler material. Like the book about the princess of the bug kingdom and her golden insects. Midna had zero clue why that one was so important that it required safekeeping in Hyrule Castle, but she was too exhausted to care at that point. Books, letters, and scrolls were placed on the tables neatly (courtesy of Paya, Link, Ganondorf, and Zelda) or were scattered haphazardly on the ground (courtesy of Midna).

But it was all just a massive waste of time and effort. Midna slammed shut yet another book about the Mirrors, throwing it onto the ground with a groan of frustration. “That’s the five-hundredth book,” she said, leaning back against the shelves, “and we’ve gotten absolutely nowhere.”

“Um— if you don’t mind me asking, how exactly… how exactly was your Mirror broken in the first place?” Paya asked.

That was an excellent question, actually. It boggled her mind why she never thought any deeper about it, but she supposed the stress of being whisked to another world and then being forced to take an impromptu trek across said world had taken greater priority. The only problem was… “I… don’t remember. I was too injured and exhausted to recall what happened fully, but I think I broke it… somehow,” Midna said.

Paya frowned, then turned her head back to the piles of books sitting on her table. She grabbed one and flipped through it until she stopped at the page she wanted. “Yes! This passage here — it says that only the true leader of the Twili can destroy the Mirrors of Twilight! So it might not be completely broken after all!”

“No, I distinctly remember it shattering into pieces, and it doesn’t matter anyways; the thing’s completely disappeared.” Midna paused as a thought suddenly came to her. “Wait, true leader of the Twili? Then that means…” She put a hand to her face, letting out an exasperated sigh. “That piece of shit, Oriana. She was the one who broke the Mirror and trapped us here! It’s so obvious in hindsight!”

Link looked at her, confusion written all over his face. “Midna, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would she pay us 1,800 rupees for us to investigate the Banishment Grounds and then just never come back? That would mean she paid us to gain absolutely zero information.”

“Who do you think I am, the princess whisperer? Don’t you remember that she just knew every little thing about us? You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow had magic devices that could see and listen to our—” Midna buried her face further into her hands. “Oh, by Solara’s shiny fucking balls— she’s the ones sending shadow beasts after us, isn’t she?!”

That piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. Midna couldn’t believe she couldn’t make such an obvious deduction — from the way Oriana seemed to know everything about her on their first meeting, to the way she coincidentally was staying in the exact room where Midna and Link had been forced to hide from her guards, and how a Molduga just happened to appear when they needed a distraction to enter the Banishment Grounds. And she apparently had access to the use of screeching immortal monsters. Midna’s nerves grew even more frayed. The Princess of Twilaea was dangerous, and Midna had no idea what the limits of her power were.

But of course the naive mutt wouldn’t think that way. “We don’t know that! It could be someone else sending them, or that we did something in the Banishment Grounds to make them follow us! It could be something about the Mirror itself like you said!”

Was he seriously defending Oriana of all people? “How is it that you have such kind words for everyone except me?” she asked with disdain. “And that we did something in the Banishment Grounds? As far as I can tell, you’re the one that used the Mirror—”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I did nothing to the Mirror?!” he shot back.

This again? She gritted her teeth — talking in circles was not something she wanted to do. “Tell me, Link, how do you know Oriana wouldn’t do something exactly like that? She literally threatened us, and you know the rumours about her surrounding Prince Israr’s death! You need to stop being such a bootlicker and see the truth! We’re clearly loose ends she needs to tie up!”

Before Link could counter, Zelda placed a book back onto the shelves. “Sorry for interrupting, but from what you two are saying, this Oriana woman, who I’m assuming is the Queen of Twilaea—”

“Princess. She’s the Princess. Not even the Queen. It’s her little demon spawn that’s screwing us over,” Midna laughed bitterly.

“I see.” Zelda put her hands together, her left hand covering the back of her right. “Forgive my presumptuousness then, but wouldn’t she gain more from allowing you two to move freely in Hyrule?”

Link and Midna looked at her, puzzled.

“Allow me to explain. I’m sorry if I offend you, but there’s no other way to put this kindly — your existence in Hyrule is a political disaster waiting to occur.”

Midna laughed dryly, and Link sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Thanks, Your Haughtiness, but we already know our places as explosive cards in the great game of political poker. You don’t need to rub salt in the wound,” Midna said.

Zelda frowned. “You’re not understanding. The point I’m trying to make is that, unfortunately, it isn’t unheard of for other nations to employ the use of agents to destabilize their enemies at any cost, even if they are unwilling participants.”

“So what, Princess?” Midna said, tone growing frigid. “You’re saying I was sent here on a mission from our princess to destroy Hyrule? First of all, I hate her guts. Not happening. Second of all, that’s messed up. Just because I’m a foreigner doesn’t mean I’m a villain trying to ruin your country. You princesses really do assume the best of people, don’t you?”

“You gravely misunderstand my words.” Zelda looked appalled at her accusation. “After all, if you were interested in the disruption of Hyrule, advertising your origins would be far more damaging than extorting rupees from the Royal Family.”

“I don’t understand, Your Highness. What are you getting at?” Link asked.

“With how many of Hyrule’s leaders you have met, the distance you have travelled, and the towns and cities you have come across, your journey to return to your homeland and the potential discovery of your origins poses a severe risk to Hyrulean stability. However, the results would be significantly more disastrous if you stayed in Hyrule, alive and well, I might add.” Zelda fiddled with her hands. “I may be looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, but I see no motive for Princess Oriana to try and kill you.”

Of course one princess would cover for their prick counterpart. “Then who is, Your Haughtiness?”

Zelda gave her a look. “I would rather you call me ‘Your Highness’ instead.”

“Yeah, don’t care. Right now all the evidence points towards our own Princess. If you’re so wise, then who’s really sending the monsters after us? And how can we go home?”

Zelda sighed. “That, I do not know. I am not omniscient. However… I cannot guarantee how well it will go, but there may be one last hope for you.”

Midna didn’t bother hiding a loud groan. She was sure they would end up in the Sacred Realm itself before they even got a glimpse of Twilaea again.

Link, who was slumped over a table in exhaustion, turned his head to look at the Princess. “Anything, Your Highness.”

“How much do you know about the Mirror of Worlds?”