World Tree MUSH

    PREVIOUSLY...

A couple of days back, Link told Zelda that he would be back in one to three days. He wasn't sure how long it would take, and wouldn't commit to a timeframe. Once night fell, he had gone.

    NOW...

It is nightfall again when the Divine Beast returns. He appears in the window of Princess Zelda's room as the moon rises on the horizon, its reflection glimmering in the water of the oasis. He issues a loud, heavy BARK and scratches at the window. This is momentary, if Zelda is anywhere in Kaipo she's going to come investigating in short order or he's going to need to try to track her because it means she'll already be gone.

He backs away from the window and waits. Standing there next to him is... a horse. She is brown-and-white, and just sort of hanging out there along the back of the inn.

The Divine Beast sits down. He can't just go and get Epona taken care of himself, so he's got to get Zelda to haul her ass out of the Inn and do it. He supposes that Rydia could as well, in a pinch. The ghost was insistent on her trustworthiness. But Zelda is who Epona is intended to serve for now, and so, Link would vastly prefer to deal with the woman herself instead of a proxy.

Another impatient bark follows an extremely short period after the initial bark and scratching.

  Obligingly, the princess has been spending the last few days resting, and the difference between now and two or three days ago is visible. She still looks a little gaunt, and there are still shadows under her eyes, but they aren't half so stark as they were before. Her eyes are still haunted, and she startles at every imagined sound, but there's not much to be done about that. Not yet.

  Thus it is that when the Divine Beast returns, barking and scratching at the window like a common dog, his royal charge is...

  ...peering out the window for a brief instant, right in front of his face, looking uneasy until her eyes fall on the abstract markings on Link's face, and those fierce, steel-blue eyes. There comes the sound of metal rattling, and she pops the latch, swinging the window open to lean out and look at him.

  Oh. A horse. Why is there a horse? These people use large birds.

  "When you said you had something to retrieve from Hyrule," Zelda says quietly, brow furrowing, "I was expecting something considerably... smaller. A moment; I must dress more warmly than I am."

  With a glance back, Zelda closes the window again. After a moment's hesitation, the curtain yanks into place, so the wolf can't see in. His sensitive ears might hear, past windows that aren't sealed, the sound of clothing rustling, and the door opening and closing. Silence settles over the desert. A night bird cries, over the dunes. Crickets buzz and chirp.

  Zelda appears a moment later around the side of the building, dressed in a plain and drab-coloured dress, her soft-soled boots, and the dark mourning cloak over that to hide her face with its hood. It still smells very faintly of radiant blood.

  She doesn't carry a candle with her, the moon is bright enough to see by; she draws her hood partway back, looking at the wolf intently, but her expression is unreadable. Checking for injury, maybe.

  "Welcome back. I am relieved to see you unhurt, He--" She pauses, with a brief twist of chagrin in her expression, and shakes her head. "Link." Her voice is always quiet, actively hushed now, but his wolf ears shouldn't have a problem picking out her words.

  Those summer-blue eyes flit back to Epona, studying the horse with the cool eye of someone familiar with them. "Mm. This is a fine horse. Not as fine as royal stock, but a steed that would do a Hyrulean Knight proud." Zelda hesitates, glancing back to Link as though remembering her manners. She'd like to take a closer look at that mare, but it still wouldn't do to start poking and prodding without permission. It's not her horse. "Is she gentle? May I...?"

The Divine Beast snorts at Zelda's inability to come out. It's not that cold, he thinks to himself. But then again, he supposes that he's dressed for this weather, except when it turns daylight out. That's the REAL reason he doesn't like coming to this place unless it's under the cover of nightfall. If he comes during the day, he pants his head off along the way. Then he drinks like the dead.

When she glances back, Link is meandering off to the water. She needn't have worried, evidently. He's finishing drinking from the oasis when she arrives. He trots up to her, sniffing the air audibly and looking at her funny. It might just be that blood really doesn't come out, but...

I'd say ya smell like you helped birth a goat, but it ain't /that/ bad. His thoughts echo, if she listens. Link turns his head towards Epona, This is my horse. But seein' as how I can't ride her, I'm lending her to you for now. So y'better treat her nicely. Really, she can tell me if you don't.

Looking over the Divine Beast for wounds, she finds... nearly nothing. Maybe a few scrapes here and there, but if something to ahold of him it didn't get ahold of him good enough to leave any lasting marks. Either he was really sneaky, or he's a REALLY brutal fighter.

Oh, yeah. Go ahead. She's pretty easygoin', and I told her to play nice anyhow. I can talk to animals just fine even though people are off-limits. Not many of 'em are too useful to be talkin' to though. Makes it real hard to want to eat 'em sometimes, though.

Link whines a little. He's probably hungry.

  The princess does have her modesty, and being a wolf only gets Link so much of a free pass in seeing her without her royal regalia. She's also cold. Unlike most red-blooded adventurers, she's somewhat fragile, and still recovering from whatever ordeal she'd gone through between Hyrule Castle and now.

  Glancing aside, she waits until the wolf comes trotting back after a visit to the oasis, cocking a clear blue eye down at him. She doesn't respond immediately, as though she were trying to decide whether he were being serious or not; or whether she were coming to terms with the fact that there will be no formalities out of this lad.

  It's no big loss, to go by the fact that she hasn't yet blasted him for it. Hyrule doesn't have time for formalities. The lack of formal address is also strangely relieving. It's a novelty. No one in the castle would dare address her with such casual familiarity.

  "I apologise if the scent troubles you. I... caught something of a glimpse, through your senses, the last time we spoke." Zelda's mouth twists. "I did not realise it would be so..." Potent. Radiant. It's the blood of the Goddess. How could it be anything but that? Still, it makes her uneasy; it's not something she can help, but it's something easily tracked. Too easily. If he picked up her trail, what else could have?

  She shakes her head, letting that line of thought pass by. "I see." Approaching the horse, the princess raises a hand, offering it flat for the horse to scent. She makes a point of moving slowly and deliberately, mindful not to spook an unfamiliar horse by moving too suddenly. "You must value her greatly."

  "Hello, there," she murmurs to the mare, in the universal tone of a nice, non-threatening murmur. "And you must value your master, to follow him even through Hyrule's bedeviled Twilight... what is her name?"

  Her gaze slides away from the chestnut mare at the lupine complaint. "You have not eaten." It's an observation, not a question, and she reaches up to take the mare's bridle, slipping fingers gently in between the strap and the hard line of the cheekbone. "Let me see to her; it is obvious to me that you regard her highly." She pauses to fix the Divine Beast with a significant look, one hand still raised to clutch at Epona's bridle. "On my honour as a daughter of the Hyrulean royal family, I swear she will be treated with the utmost respect and consideration. Thank you, Link." She encourages Epona on with a gentle cluck of the tongue, running hands gently over the horse to check her over.

  "Then," she adds over her shoulder, "I will retrieve you something suitable from the kitchens. You must be half-starved." There is, if anything, a little bit of guilt audible in the words. "I am sorry," she adds softly, shaking her head as they continue toward the stable. Whether or not he follows, she doesn't seem to be looking just yet.

  Whether she's apologising for his being hungry or for the entire situation in general, it's hard to say.

Why're you lookin' at me so funny? Link wonders directedly. He doesn't press the matter though, instead moving on to the matter of her scent. He replies, My nose is pretty strong right now. Got a whiff of pepper once, sent me yelping down a hill. But I think y'need to get some less soiled clothes, and maybe burn those. I can get you some if y'need me to.

There is no clearly evident way in which the Divine Beast might procure clothes. It's probably best not to inquire too deeply into how Link acquires much of anything, though. The Divine Beast snorts, shaking his head a little. Anyhow it's more a matter of keepin' you off-radar than it is keepin' me comfy. Ain't no sense focusing on comfy, but there's a lot of sense in ditchin' the stuff that makes you trackable. If I can smell that stuff, I'm sure a lot of things can.

Epona is easy enough to get along with, and not particularly skittish. She mustn't be, to deal with the kind of creature that Link has become without scattering in alarm, even if he could talk to her.

Link's eyes open a little widely, as if he would be raising his eyebrows were he simply himself. I was just kiddin' around. You don't even want me eatin' the ostrich-horses, so I think you're prob'ly not the type to hurt a horse. Anyway royal types make fancy sports out of riding so I knew you'd be passable at dealin' with her at least.

Actuallllly... well, yeah I'm hungry, but can you get Epona situated first? She ain't from around here, and I can find my way 'round easier. If it's not too much trouble, I'd prefer any food out here too, but I can take it from the door. Link follows only as far as the front door of the inn. Epona remains behind, more-or-less comprehending what's going on.

  As the wolf explains, Zelda leads the mare along, voice low and soothing, stroking at her neck every so often. Some horses don't like dealing with strange people, so she's making it as easy as possible.

  His question brings her to glance back at him again, but her frown seems more thoughtful than anything else. Unbidden, she thinks of the spirit's words. 'If the portents that stretch forth are more than mere shadows of my time, you've six more to gather.'

  Why had that voice sounded so familiar to her?

  Why does Link's, for that matter?

  "I don't know," she says softly, brow furrowing as she turns back to Epona. "You sound so familiar to me, but... we have never met. I have never known anyone by the name of Link."

  And yet, even as she says the words, she can feel a whisper through her very spirit; an echo of bright and radiant Hylia. Yes... she has, but she can conjure no details.

  It's incredibly unsettling.

  "I see. I will burn them," she adds briskly, as though to grasp at something more active. It's better than dwelling on half-remembered mysteries, or why she feels like she knows this goatherd when she's never met him in her life. In fact, the only person she's ever met from Ordon Village is Rusl. "My clothing was steeped in my own blood; if you can smell the blood so strongly, still, than so too can others."

  She's quick and efficient as she hefts the saddle off of Epona, staggering under its weight, but she doesn't let her awkward burden stop her. Both saddle and bridle are removed, and Zelda busies herself with picking any dirt or stones out of her hooves, with rapt attention to detail.

  The princess is just as quick and efficient as she brushes the sorrel mare down, but gently, with some consideration for the mare's coat and comfort. It's obvious she's worked with horses, before, but it's also obvious that the princess has a caring streak. When she's finished brushing Epona down, she strokes the mare's velvety nose before turning to ready some fodder. Fortunately, the stuff the chocobos eat doesn't look too far removed from alfalfa or clover.

  "There you are," she murmurs, with one last stroke down the horse's neck. "Rest now. Thank you, Epona. You have earned it. I will be back later to see to you."

  The part of her that loves riding, the freedom of galloping across Hyrule Field and leaving behind her entourage, is itching to climb into the saddle and see how Epona handles. She's obviously a mare of good breeding; descended, if Zelda had to guess, from the finer stock used by her knights. How such a fine horse wound up in the hands of a simple goatherd from Ordon Village, though, she couldn't say.

  "I am curious how you came by such a fine mare as Epona, but that story may wait until you are in a better frame of mind to tell it." Zelda looks up, reaching up to stroke the mare's velvety muzzle one last time; to rub fondly along one dainty ear.

  The horses were always better companions to her than most folk in the court.

  Turning, she glances to the kitchens, but her eyes inevitably drift back to the Divine Beast as she turns to start toward the kitchens. He can follow or not follow; when he states his preferences on where to be fed, she nods simply. Easy enough. "Very well. I'll be back in a moment."

  She isn't gone for too long, and she's carrying a basket that smells deliciously of some kind of steak. The smell of it is a bit left of centre, but the meat isn't tainted or rancid; it's just a different kind of meat than anything the Hylians might be used to.

  Zelda carries it out to the shadows, carrying it carefully, as though she were balancing liquid inside it. She beckons Link to follow with a toss of her chin; a fleeting flicker of that dark, honeyed-blonde hair. She stops near a palm tree beside the building, sliding down to sit at the base of the tree and flicking back the cloth covering the basket with a single practised gesture.

  Revealed, the basket's contents must be mouth-watering. There's a stoneware plate stacked with a couple of steaks; tucked off to one side is a plain stoneware cup, with what smells like tea in it. The plate is tugged out of the basket and set down for him, and she stoops to retrieve the cup.

  Wrapping her hands around it, she settles against the palm trunk with a sigh, narrow shoulders slumping as she holds the cup to her face and inhales the fragrant, spicy-sweet steam. That's better. Her hands are trembling just slightly, but she seems relatively comfortable in the wolf's presence, despite his fearsome appearance. The last vestiges of fatigue, then. She must have worn herself down to the bone in the weeks after her escape.

  One eye slides open to regard him. Fancy sports out of riding?

  "I have always enjoyed riding, though I was never particularly interested in competing in mounted games." She looks away, off to the stars that glimmer above the endless dunes, distant. "I rode nearly every day, so you need not worry over Epona's safety. I will care for her as I cared for my own favoured steeds."

  There's a flicker of something; just a faint twitch, a betrayal of pain, but she forces it down. They're probably all dead, at this point, all three of them. She's pretty sure something was eating one of them on her way out of the stables; whether a monster or a shadow beast, she wasn't sure; the horse was undeniably dead, its guts spilled onto the flagstones. At the time, that had somehow struck her just as deeply as the death and suffering of her people. Watching the desecration of that innocent animal had simultaneously made her blood run cold, and also to make her blood boil.

  Zelda suppresses a shudder and brings herself back to the reality of the desert breeze, and the distant scent of night-blooming flowers near the oasis. She finally sips at her tea, cocking a blue eye to watch Link impassively. "If that is not enough, tell me. I can find more."

The Divine Beast follows as he is bidden. The funny thing about being a wolf is, although very "rare" things became much more palatable, he found himself being able to eat practically anything. Tastes seem to wash out, and cooking something simply isn't necessary. Plus it just tastes weird. So although he sniffs at the air, the allure of "food in general" is stronger than whatever it is that Zelda has actually brought for him.

He snaps one of the steaks up immediately and settles in with it. It might at this point occur to Zelda -- or to anyone -- exactly how big he is, and exactly how easily he chews through something like that. One firm rip parts a quarter of the steak from the rest of it and he chews only sparingly before it goes down.

Link pauses reflexively to reply to Zelda, only because it doesn't occur to him that he's not using his mouth to communicate: Horses are just how you get 'round in a place like Ordon. Town's not big but the farms are, and you gotta have something like that to herd goats. Helps if you're plenty strong.

Kinda weird you don't play games with it all tho. What d'you need really fancy horses for, if you don't herd and don't play games with 'em?

The wolf gulps down the rest of the steak with a quick snap and swallow.

He looks over at Zelda.

Eh? Isn't one of these for you? Y'don't heal if y'don't eat. And didn't you want to get movin' soon? When're we going to the place you wanted to take over?

  Those summer-blue eyes settle on the wolf as he satisfies his appetite, crunching through lightly-seared meat like so many heated knives through a pat of butter. Her regard is almost uneasy for a moment; she had forgotten, briefly, how large and monstrously strong his cursed body is.

  The gleaming ivory of those fangs could tear her throat out with trivial effort. That realisation is sobering, like a slap of cold water in the face. It's also a little frightening.

  There's also the matter of that strange familiarity, and the words of the spirit that had attended the Divine Beast. What had he meant by that? Were the Sages needed? They hadn't been since her grandmother's time.

  Zelda sips her tea impassively, leting her face betray nothing of her wandering thoughts. Tired, the princess decides. She's just tired. Her nerves are still frayed; her still weak. Her condition is improving, but it's still not fully there, yet.

  Time. She needs more time... but Hyrule's time is beginning to wind down. Very soon, it will be too late for her people.

  She's quiet as she listens to his words. He has no ability to speak with his beast's fanged mouth, but she can still sense his intent. Anyway, she knows nothing about herding; she has nothing she can say to that.

  The rest brings her to tilt her head a little, though, blowing on her tea to keep from burning her mouth. The steam curling from the stoneware cup smells both spicy and sweet all at once. "Why else? To ride." One slim hand flicks in a dismissive gesture, out towards the open sands. Her eyes return to him, though, and for a brief instant there's a flicker of passion in them; of absolute belief in her own words. "He--Link. Have you been as far as Hyrule Field from Ordon Village? Have you seen Hyrule Field, in the last golden hour of sunset, when the sun is on the wild barley and wheat? Have you felt the wind in your face, in your hair, racing at a gallop, when it smelled of summer and the sunlit earth?"

  "Would it surprise you that I needed to escape the castle, at times?" Zelda looks back to the open sands, eyes distant. "I am sorry. That was spoken poorly. It was not my intent to sound ungrateful. But there is only so much that words can do. Sometimes," she says softly, almost hesitantly; almost shyly, "one simply... must feel the wind in their hair..."

  There's an uncomfortable silence, and she looks away, flushing just slightly. "I--I'm sorry. I must sound so irresponsible..."

  She glances back when he asks about the food, tilting her head and eyeing it somewhat dubiously. It's better than nothing, and he's right about needing her strength. Defeated, she reaches for the basket, digging around in the bottom for utensils, which the clink of metal suggests she's found.

  Well, it may be a backwater nowhere, but at least they use eating utensils.

  "I do," she murmurs, measuring out small portions for herself, chewing on them thoughtfully. "I have half a mind to investigate Snowpeak. An aristocrat from past generations constructed a fortified manor in one of the passes. It will be difficult, but I belive such a remote place is of no interest to the Twilight King." There is an unaristocratic and unladylike trace of venom in her voice when she mentions the title. "He therefore will not expect it... and it will be away from any people, if he does choose to lay siege."

  She looks away. "After that, I would like to investigate Faron Wood. The Light Spirits are suffering. I have... seen them, in my dreams. They have called out to me. If their light can be restored to them, there may yet be hope for Hyrule." Her voice drops; soft, so soft, and bitter. "In spite of what I have managed to do to it..."

  "If, of course, this is acceptable to you," Zelda adds. There's a trace, an undertone, of guilt in her tone. "I... know that I do not hold you to any binding oath of service, Link. You are free to go at any time. I would not see you so bound when you have sworn no oaths of knighthood." Her mouth compresses into a thin line. "I will only slow you in the pursuit of your goals. I..."

  "I am sorry." She looks away, hair falling to hide her face. It's just as well; looking at him is like a knife twisting in her gut. He's just a visible symbol of how broken the Kingdom of Hyrule is right now; of all the destruction, the destroyed homes, the shattered lives and death.

  Although her posture never changes, the princess seems to wilt.

  Zelda draws in a breath through her nose, deeply; lets it out through her mouth. It's unsteady. When she speaks, her voice is quiet, quiet enough that if his ears weren't half so keen, he wouldn't have heard her. "This entire situation... Hyrule's suffering... the Twilight... it is by my hand. I am so sorry. You did not ask for any of this."

I s'pose. Link seems indifferent to the idea of horse breeding at best. Might be he just doesn't know that much about it though. To her question about where he's been though, the wolf gives a toss of his head, Nah. Well, I have now, but not really the way you're describin' it. I ain't been anywhere important before the twilight settled in, so all I've ever seen of that place is I s'pose whatever the sun looks like in the twilight. Sort of always there, but not that bright.

I reckon so. I dunno what a castle is like when it's fulla people, but I guess it all seems too big to me. Haveta by pretty noisy most of the time, and herdin' people ain't any easier than herdin' goats. Must be harder, 'cause people are smart enough to be even stupider about whatever damn fool idea they got in their head.

The Divine Beast heaves a mighty sigh, fixing Zelda with an utterly disbelieving look that for once manages to express itself properly even on a canine face, Lady, nobody exists on purpose. More'n half of us are accidents. There ain't anywhere in particular for us to be, and if it's so then the Goddesses have a mighty cruel sense of humor. Would destiny matter if y'didn't know about it? Would it mean anything? Would it even happen?

We're where we are 'cause that's how things shook out, and we won't get off the muddy road we're on 'cause what's at the end of it is important to us. Y'didn't do anything to me. Shit, the Tribals takin' a swing at my village weren't even the weird shadow crawlies.

Just a really oversized Bulblin and his mates.

The Divine Beast rises, goes to the water again to drink, and returns with a dripping face. He barks at her.

Eat and eat some more. If we're jammin' ourselves up the sky's nose to crawl into some half-baked well-to-do's crazy summer house you're gonna need to be able to ride and handle the cold. An' I can't deal with it myself, Midna's broken or somethin' and I don't have hands. He barks again.

  "There is a certain beauty to the Twilight, isn't there? Like the thorns of a rose." Zelda's expression is mildly unhappy. "A beautiful and serene place, according to Midna, with all the peace that comes when the day is done. It is now tainted by a great evil that I cannot name. The people trapped as spirits in the Twilight sense it, and fear it."

  "I do not believe Zant is clever enough by half to do what he has done. He is no strategist; no siegemaster. He is as petulant as a stymied child and twice as impatient." The princess looks down at her cup. "A great evil is guiding him. Twisting him."

  "I..." Her voice softens, as he expresses his disbelief over the source of her guilt. "I'm afraid of that evil, Hero. I carry the blood of the Goddess and I bear the birthright of Hylia's line, with the Triforce of Wisdom, both tremendous wards against evil, but I am still afraid. I... have need of your courage, and wished that I possessed it." Maybe it terrifies her because what Zant did to her kingdom is just a taste of what's to come. That whatever Zant's guiding power is, it won't have any mercy. That Hyrule would absolutely not survive it.

  "Thank you."

  Her gratitude is given softly, in response to his coarse insistence that he's got nothing better to do than attend her. She looks pale and worried, but also tremendously relieved.

  Had she expected him to go off and do his own thing? Did she actually want him around? It's true that her sleep is riddled with nightmares, but waking up and seeing him at the foot of her bed like a temple guardian is comforting, in those small hours of the night when worries and fears seem at their worst.

  Zelda draws in a breath and lets it go, quietly.

  "'Noisy' is one way to describe it. Sometimes, there are so many things happening that you can scarcely hear yourself think. I should be used to it, as the daughter of the King, but..." Zelda shakes her head. "Sometimes I just needed to get away, even if only for a little while."

  Every single time she gave her royal entourage the slip, they always managed to find her, eventually. Usually, they found her flopped in a sunny field beside her horse, hair untied and tousled by the wind, gleefully out of breath and too cheerful to be bothered by their lecturing.

  It wasn't very princessly behaviour, she reflects, but she wouldn't trade those sunlit evenings for all the world. His commentary on herding people earns a soft snort, one that could be taken as annoyance, but there's mirth in her summer-blue eyes. He's more astute than he lets on.

  She can't help but feel a flicker of respect for that, even if he has a coarse way of showing it. The princess even manages a hesitant smile; like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, briefly.

  Maybe she's just been very tired, and very frustrated; everybody stumbles, sometimes, and she certainly has a heavy weight on her shoulders. The survival of the entire kingdom is depending on her efforts to save Hyrule and all of its people.

  No pressure, right?

  "I will have more later," she replies, quietly, swilling the last of the tea at the bottom of her cup around in slow circles. "I'm sorry. A little at a time is the best I can manage. My body is still recovering from the damage and the shock." Between the horrific injuries Copen had left her with, and the self-damaging desperation of her prayer to the Goddess to shield her from harm, she had quite a bit to recover from. She's still getting back to normal, to go by how much she's slept lately, or the way she eats like someone half-starved... because she /is/ half-starved.

  "Midna? What has become of Midna? I had meant to ask you how she fared, but you had returned to Hyrule before I could." Concern touches her voice. "What is wrong with her?"

The Divine Beast stares blankly at Zelda. There's a nonzero chance that he doesn't know what a rose is, or simply can't wrap his head around deliberately poetic imagery. He makes a strange sort of vocalization that can probably be reasonably interpreted as Uh-huh.

Midna really hates that guy. But you don't haveta be smart to pull somethin' like this off. You just gotta be powerful enough that bein' stupid doesn't matter. I reckon we can pull something similar, prob'ly. That thing Midna wants to assemble is some kinda weapon, and she was really frustrated with the distractions of the outside or somethin' like that tearin' me away.

Link rolls his eyes and fixes Zelda with a skeptical look. The blood of Goddesses is one rowdy king or prince away from a string o' accidents all 'cross the country. Prob'ly already happened, somewhere down the line. Not to say y'ain't powerful, or that you got a bad family, but people are gonna be people and if it wasn't us it'd just be some other poor bastards.

Momentary surprise flashes across his face.

I'm gonna go ahead and pretend I didn't just stumble across that one. Anyhow, you're welcome. Y'really can't be so hard on yourself, and nobody who's under this spell is gonna be bothered thinking about whether or not you're to blame anyhow. It's clear as a spring you're not, and ain't nobody anywhere who coulda predicted magical shadow people just wanderin' in and settin' up shop like a buncha termites scramblin' outta their mound.

Most folks, they're just gonna be happy to get back to normal and damn the why of the thing.

Link sits back down and stops his barking, tilting his head slightly to one side. Can't keep it down, huh? I guess I can't fault ya for takin' it slow there. As fer Midna, I think it's the sunlight. She's not really hurt or anythin', but she couldn't cross the border and I think tryin' weakened her a litte. Might just be playin' it safe, too. Ain't a woman whose thoughts I could say I really know, 'cept when she's screamin' 'em at me.

  "She has sound reason to. We share a commonality," Zelda says grimly, but she doesn't explain anything by her cryptic words. She knows Midna's story from before the time Midna had went searching for Link, but that's Midna's story to tell.

  All that to say, she's not surprised at all Midna wants to do terrible things to the Twilight King.

  Zelda glances back down to the wolf in time to see that disconcertingly human gesture. Watching a canid roll its eyes is bizarre and kind of surreal. Then, he says something a little outrageous in its audacity. One does not speak to a descendant of the royal family of Hyrule in such a manner.

  It's a point in her favour that she doesn't immediately take offense at his effective but incredibly crude way of pointing out their duties. In fact, she draws in a breath through her nose and lets it out slowly through her mouth, closing her eyes.

  "I take your point." Her tone is brittle, and suggests that she's going to overlook that remark, too, just this once.

  When he tries to soothe her guilt, she watches him with a neutral expression; thoughtful, almost. Whether she agrees or disagrees, though, it's hard to say. She doesn't comment.

  "I..." Her answer to his sympathetic question is soft, as though admitting weakness is forcing her to swallow her pride somewhat. It is. She doesn't like admitting weakness to herself, let alone others. "No. I can't." Her head tilts faintly at the mention of Midna, though.

  Zelda snorts softly at his description of the Twili. "That does sound like Midna. She is not a subtle person. Nor," she says, studying him, "do you appear to be, either." It's hard to say whether there's approval or disproval in her voice.

  She seems a little distracted, too; uncharacteristically so, considering the focus she's generally shown when she hasn't been halfway unconscious. Something's on her mind.

  Really, though, it's not any conscious thought or worry. She has a lot of those, but she can generally think past them, and has to. This is different. It's no more than half-remembered sensations, but they're terribly insistent. A sense of safety, and happiness. A gauntleted hand clasping hers. The curve of a harp clutched in her other arm. A flutter of white fabric; a flutter of green. The warmth of the sun on her upturned face.

  Zelda shivers and pulls her robe tighter around herself.

  Only then does she seem to remember something that's been nagging at her. It's no more than the strains of a vaguely familiar melody, but sung with the cadence of a wolf's mournful howl.

  "That song," she murmurs, voice lowering. "You sang, the night that you met Rydia. I heard your voice over the hills. If I may ask... what was that you were singing? It... it almost sounded familiar to me, but..." But she's never heard it before in her life, the furrowing of her brow seems to say.

Don't take it too seriously. I assume most of yer ancestors didn't get up to a lot of adultery, and you can assume most Ordonians don't fornicate with goats. Link chimes in response to Zelda's careful breathing and shutting her eyes. He doesn't pry on the subject of Midna-- for that matter, he hasn't /really/ pried that much about anything at all. Apart from complaining about how guarded Midna was, he just sort of lets things come out and rolls with them when they do.

The Divine Beast rises to a stand again, circling Zelda and looking at her properly. He sniffs the air around her, and then resumes circling. Eventually he slows to a halt, sitting directly in front of her and heaving a big sigh. Y'got healin' to do but you're prob'ly slowin' it down beatin' yourself up. Lotta people think it ain't nothin', but if you roll around in misery while you're tryin' to get better an' don't -really- want to get better somewhere inside, you're askin' for trouble.

And no, I'm not really subtle. There's somethin' to be said for a little sneakin', and I can put things together real good, but hell. You sit around thinkin' about somethin' for so long without gettin' ready to do it and it turns out all the things you figured about whatever you was up to just fall apart as soon as you're in motion. Anyhow I think that's s'posed to be your job.

An ear perks, and twitches.

Don't know if I'd rightly call it a song, He pauses a moment to howl a few notes right there in front of her, but he wants to hear stuff like that every now an' then. The gold wolf. Turns up out of the blue and howls a song with me, an' teaches me somethin' he knew when he was still a man. I reckon it means somethin' to him, but he don't explain nothin' even if you ask.

Won't tell me why I oughta trust that girl, but he pushed that hard after I shut the door on her. Couldn't tell ya the why there, either. Maybe they're related.

  "I would not assume that they did." Aside from that dangerously soft and cold comment, the princess doesn't grace the subject of either royal or Ordonian ancestry with a reply. He can hear that she's still measuring her breathing. He lets the topic go, though, and that's probably for the best.

  Reaching up, the princess tucks a stray lock of hair behind a pointed ear, scanning the horizon as Link picks himself up to study her. Once she's done searching, her eyes follow him, summer-blue reflecting the light of the inn's oil lamps.

  She blinks owlishly at his observations.

  "You have an incredibly crude way of putting things." Her distasteful tone says exactly what she thinks of that. "But you are astute."

  She recoils slightly when he belts out the few notes of the song in front of her, but only because it's a sound meant to carry for miles. It's very loud. The words, however, are more interesting. She leans forward abruptly when he mentions the gold wolf, and teaching skills he knew as a man; her breath catches briefly in her throat. "What? This golden wolf... what does he look like? What do you mean, 'when he was a man?'"

  A flicker of memory, or vision: A man's gauntleted hand, and a woman's slender white-gloved hand, both clasped over a blue ocarina. The instrument bears the Triforce over its mouthpiece. The gauntleted hand bears the crest of the Triforce of Courage, and the slim one the Triforce of Wisdom. She'd recognise her own Triforce crest anywhere.

  Zelda wrenches her attention back to the tail end of what Link has to say, shaking her head briefly as though to clear it. The Goddesses are trying to tell her something, but she can't understand.

  Part of her wishes they'd be a little less obtuse.

  "Maybe." She doesn't sound completely certain. "Will you wait here a moment? I would like to try something."

  Without actually waiting for answer, the princess is on her feet and halfway to the inn, lithe as a deer, cloak trailing behind her. When she comes back a few minutes later, it's with that ancient harp tucked under her arm.

  The Shade would recognise it. It's the very same harp that Sheik had carried, although there is a stain of blood on its limb. It looks ancient but well cared for.

  Zelda settles herself back down, staring intently at the wolf. "Will you sing for me? I would like to learn this song of yours. I... it sounds familiar, for some reason. If I hear it all, perhaps it will jog my memory. It feels... significant, somehow." The princess shakes her head, running her fingers over the strings, the other absently twisting pegs to tune them as she speaks. "When you are ready, He--Link."

  Formalities. She's so accustomed to them that she still has to stop herself from time to time and use his actual name.

That's how folks talk where I'm from, most of the time. I could just be catty instead if y'want, but that's really no fun. Link offers, with what can only be described as the mental impression of a shrug.

Concerning the Golden Wolf, he tilts his head as if he himself has to puzzle it out. Well most of the time when I see him he's a big ol' golden wolf with only one red eye. An' then he's cagey about actually comin' out to talk until I've howled a song for him. The one before this was, er... y'might wanna cover your ears if it hurts that much.

The Divine Beast howls a melody-- but it can stir no thoughts or feelings, not even from the memories of Hylia. It is the song of another world, for the soothing of troubled spirits. But it has not been heard in Hyrule; it is only meaningful in the land of Termina, and has no meaning in this place, save to the Hero who once found his way to that doomed world.

An' then there was the one before, that you've already heard. Anyhow once I get the song right, some weird... witchy stuff happens, and we both end up in this big ol' white space where I'm myself again. The gold wolf is... I d'no, he's kind of a skeleton wearin' a suit of armor. Never seen any armor like it, either. But he'll carry on a bit and then smack me around until I learn whatever lesson he was tryin' ta teach.

The way he talks, I get the sense that he musta been somebody like me once, and that it didn't work out so good so he's tryin' to fix that by helpin' me. But he don't talk clearly 'bout anything, except the lesson.

The Divine Beast watches Zelda go in distant puzzlement. He nods his assent to her request, but he clearly doesn't really get it. He takes a short while to gather his own breath for a good go at it, and begins. Saria's song is too slow by the howl of a wolf, and no second wolf answers it as it did the previous night.

Once he finishes, he comments, Now I ain't any musician, but it just don't sound right to me. Too slow, too sad. I reckon it oughta be quick. This voice don't do quick that well, and hummin' don't work none either.

  If the situation were any different, she might take offense at his casual and irreverent interaction. No member of the royal family would allow such address from any of their subjects... although her grandmother might. The old woman was a magnificent spitfire, and even now, years after her passing, that good-natured alacrity is sorely missed.

  But the reality is that Zelda brought about all of this. She has no room to complain, so she bites back her rising irritation; smooths her illogical temper with a measured breath.

  "I wonder who he was," she says instead, turning her mind to mysteries and familiarity. "I saw... the night that you met with Rydia, before you left... there was a flicker of gold, near your shoulder, and I saw him. He... he spoke to me, actually, though I was too distracted to pay proper heed. He said..."

  She looks away, trying to remember, clutching at her harp as though it could offer her answers. Her eyes fall closed as she considers. "'I had a friend, once, who was very like her,'" she intones softly. "'We cannot stand vigil. It is not our role. Rest and recover, and if the portents that stretch forth are more than mere shadows of my time, you've six more to gather.'"

  The princess does not ask the wolf if he knows what it means. He wouldn't. She already knows that. "He spoke of Rydia, I believe. So he knew someone whom she reminds him of... but..."

  Another flicker of memory. That same song, floating through the forest, issuing from a forest grove. Dust motes dance in the sunlight. A fleeting glimpse of a beige ocarina; green hair.

  Zelda sucks in a breath. For a moment she almost looks frustrated, but she masters herself and smooths her expression.

  Experimentally, she brushes her fingers over the strings, eyes falling closed as she plucks the first refrain of Saria's Song from what he's shown her. Her fingers brush the strings as she plays it again, frowning slightly. She doesn't recognise it, but someone else might.

  Her eyes flicker open when he tries the next song, but it brings no recognition. It's a pretty melody, and nothing more, as she ghosts his howl on her harp. She tries again, more confident this time, but it stirs no memories.

  Zelda looks away for a moment, only half-listening as he describes how the golden wolf interacts with and teaches him. She's following her memory, trying to run down a vague hint. When he comments how it sounds too slow and sad, she frowns, slightly.

  Her fingers dance over the strings, plucking the upward cadence of Saria's Song in a faster, more cheerful tempo. "Like this...?"

Well o' course he was there, he was talkin' to me. I reckon you could just see him because you're you. The Divine Beast replies, wishing internally that it could exhibit something resembling a shrug. He was tellin' me to trust that girl, and be nice to her. He was real insistent 'bout it. 'Course, I don't make a habit of bein' mean to little girls, I just thought it'd be a funny way of lettin' her know that I wasn't some mangy ol' monster gettin' ready to chew you up.

To the question of who he was, Link gives a faint whine. Some guy who got dragged into somethin' like this a long time ago, prob'ly. I wouldn't worry about it too much. He ain't been nothin' but helpful, even if he's been unhelpful as all get-out too. That is to say, he doesn't really hurt nothin', it's just kin'na frustratin' to get half-answers all the time. That just ain't how I do things. Don't know why it's how he does things.

Makes plenty o' sense to flag Rydia as good people if he knew somebody like that, when he was still alive.

Link offers a cheerful bark in reply to Zelda's playing of a faster version of the song. If he were a man, it wouldn't be hard to imagine him smiling. Yep, that sounds more like it. Why're you so interested in the song, anyhow? I can get my head around wantin' to know more about that rattly old ghost, but the music seems... I d'no, personal to whatever he was up to a long time ago. I doubt anybody else remembers, now.

  "The Triforce of Wisdom," Zelda agrees. "It is difficult for such things to hide from my sight. Alternatively, I could see him because he chose for me to see him; because he wished to address me directly. Though," she adds, "I am not certain why. Surely I am nothing to him."

  She eyes him thoughtfully when he explains his prank. Does she approve? Disapprove? The answer is subtle; a hint of a smile so fleeting it could be imagined. "I think she took your meaning." Poor Rydia. She'll have to apologise for his lack of manners later.

  Unbidden, the image of two Triforce-marked hands holding the same old, blue ocarina. Half-answers. She runs her thumb along the limb of the harp, turning the issue over in her mind. No answers are forthcoming, though, and the Triforce is silent.

  She seems to be considering how to say something, eyes lidding to fall on the harp with its bright strings and its bloodstain. Why is she so interested in the music?

  "I... see things, sometimes. The Triforce grants me dreams and visions. I used to think they were unconnected to anything, but it's become clear to me that everything is connected." Zelda absently plucks Saria's Song on the harp strings, trying slightly different tempos until she finds one that seems to fit its run of notes. "They have meaning. I try to listen, but most of the time, I cannot understand that meaning. I only know that when the Triforce tries to tell me something, it is terribly important."

  Those summer-blue eyes settle on Link, absently studying the geometric marking of white on his face and avoiding his eyes. "The Triforce has not let me alone since you turned up," she adds, looking away. "I think it's trying to tell me to trust you, and to help you in whatever way I can."

  "I remember... I remember hands joined, with both of our Triforce crests on them, over a blue ocarina. I can't see their faces, or where they are, but I can feel, even asleep, that there is magic involved. It prickles, like when you tangle up in a woolen blanket and the sparks snap..." She looks down at the strings. "I remember a kingdom above the clouds, and the blue sweep of the sky. I remember other things, too... bits, and pieces. A woman in white, with golden hair, and the most sorrowful eyes I have ever seen. She's looking down at something, but I can never see what."

  She picks up the harp and looks at it distractedly. "The memories... they pull at me. I know that they are significant, somehow. They may even be important."

  "But I don't know how. Maybe, if I can learn more about this attendant spirit of yours, I might be able to understand. Maybe it can lead us in the right direction. It is my hope that if I can come to understand these mysteries, it may lend us direction, to save Hyrule..."

  Zelda shrugs, and cradles the harp to her chest again, tucking her chin over it, the gesture almost protective. "There isn't much else I can do. The Triforce is showing me these things for a reason."

  She's silent for a moment, looking down at her harp, and the way the distant light of the oil lamps reflects from its strings.

  "May I teach you a song, Hero? You seem to have an ear for a tune, and perhaps it may give you something new to sing, on the dunes." She looks him over for a moment, and allows herself a faint half-smile. "It is pleasant to listen to." His howling, that is. "It makes me feel..." She trails off, in search of the right word. "Safe."

I dunno if he's really hidin' so much as he just don't normally show up to people other'n me. Link muses, a little indifferently. Regarding Rydia, he snorts. At least he can make a normal noise for once, even if it's a bit crude. She didn't take it too hard. Funny seein' a girl that young roamin' around prepared to fight monsters but I reckon it takes all types. Kind of a shame though. Ain't much younger than me and Ilia. Probably ain't much younger than you, either, all told. I guess bein' witchy makes it easier to be strong when you're little, tho.

Another whine escapes him. I wouldn't know what to do with a bunchy shifty visions. Guess that's why you're you, and I'm me. Well, it's pretty useful just that you can talk to me. Talkin' to animals gets obnoxious, and Midna can do it too but she's too impatient to play translator. Plus she'd prob'ly say things that I wouldn't actually say. S'pretty funny the first time, but it gets old.

On the subject of the Triforce of Wisdom, he issues a bark that must be amusement. Reckon it's telling you to hurry along with it? Been stuck here for too long. You oughta grab Rydia and see if she can't be any use at that fool noble's mansion. Might be we can help her out too, here. Can't say I know much about what's goin' on here, but I know little girls workin' in inns and gettin' involved with your kinda struggles...

He looks away, sniffing the air, Prolly have some serious shit on their plate. This whole world is swarmin' with monsters, did you know? I can smell 'em all the time. It's practically like ours is, right now. All teeming with bad things waiting to crawl outta the dark, like a switch was flipped and all the evil in the world came crashin' down all of a sudden. The region down south smells like smoke and blood and freshly-turned earth.

Link sighs.

But you shouldn't linger too much on the past. Or the future. They ain't where you live, even if bits of 'em are things you gotta live with.

The look that the Divine Beast gives Zelda is skeptical. He nods, If it helps, then I don't reckon it does any harm to give it a go.

  "It isn't her powers that make her strong." Zelda looks down at her harp again. "That girl... she does not seek out her battles. That girl has endured terrible pain and loss. I do not know her full story, but I know that much. I have seen it in her eyes. I have heard her say as much, to me." The princess looks unspeakably a little sad. "No. She is much younger than I am, but she carries herself as one much older."

  "She should only be a child, and taken with the small dreams and concerns of a child... but she has been forced to grow up much more quickly. Too quickly. But she is a good soul. She has saved my life, more than once. I understand why your spirit regards her highly. He understands that about her... and he wants you to, as well."

  Her eyes lift skyward, watching the cold glimmer of the unfamiliar stars. "Hm." It's a small and thoughtful sound. "A little. At least the skies are clear, here. No embers. I hope the Twilight never reaches this place."

  It sounds like this world has its own troubles, if monsters are really that prevalent. The few times she's been travelling through the area, she hadn't been conscious enough to register her surroundings, or too busy concentrating on staying conscious enough to stay upright in the saddle.

  Midna's unfaithfulness as a translater earns a quiet hum of agreement. The imp does seem the type to do that, doesn't she? Sharp-tongued, and mostly concerned with herself and her own goals. But Midna is not so bad a person as she might have others believe. The princess has a knack for finding that spark of inherent good in the people around her.

  "It isn't 'witchy,'" Zelda chides gently, glancing back to Link with mild amusement. "What I experience is more like... like the Triforce is an oracle, and I am left to make sense of it, like an augur. It gives the visions to me, but I must make of them as I will, for it lends no meaning. There are a select few things I can do, and do well, with the powers granted me. But calling what I do 'witchcraft' is like calling an apple an orange. I have no talent for alchemy." Witches love brewing up dubious potions in shacks out in the middle of the forest, don't they? Oh, and suckering poor adventurers into gathering the ingredients for them, too. Let's not leave that out.

  She leans back against the tree, cradling her harp. "Maybe. I am hurrying as quickly as I can. Hyrule's time grows short... it is frustrating, to know you are broken, and to know you cannot mend your own wounds and be done with it. My sorcery doesn't work like that. I cannot heal myself. I can only give of myself, to others... and exhaustion is not something one can wave away with a hand."

  "I suppose I may have overdone, lately." The princess grimaces, faintly. "It's hard not to feel useless, sometimes, but I am not the Chosen Hero. I am not meant to wield the Blade of Evil's Bane. I cannot challenge hordes of monsters and expect to survive. Logically, I know this. My role in these events is more subtle than that... but my people are suffering, Link, and you do not know what that does to me. How the Triforce drives me, to save them, as relentless as my own conscience. I must /do/ something," she finishes, soft but earnest.

  Establishing a foothold back in Hyrule is the only thing she can think of to do that might serve them. Snowpeak isn't the best of options, but its remoteness may prove its blessing. The only problem will be supplies. The mountain is deadly.

  Her eyes settle on him when he chides her for living too much in the past or the future. She almost seems like she might argue the point, gently, but instead she adopts one of those melancholy smiles.

  "Maybe you have a little of Wisdom in you, too."

  He's right, in other words.

  Lifting her harp, she skims her fingers over the strings before curling them, plucking at them more decisively.

  It's a lullaby, or so it sounds, with gentle cadences that sound both melancholy and yet hopeful. She plays with finesse, with not a single note fouled; with a familiarity that suggests this is a song very dear and familiar to her, one she knows like the back of her own hand... and the crest that lies on it.

  For a moment she almost seems to lose her careworn exhaustion. The fatigue and worry lifts from her, expression peaceful, eyes closed, as she concentrates on her playing. This is the princess as she should be -- calm, serene, gentle -- if only for a few moments.

  It probably won't sound familiar to the wolf at all, but if he's lurking about, the Hero's Shade might well recognise the strains of Zelda's Lullaby. It's an old song, an ancient song, as thoroughly intertwined with Hyrule's royal women as the Triforce of Wisdom is. Besides, Link might find it an easy tune to mimic, its long notes and sustains well-suited to his howling.

Well now don't get me wrong. I get along fine with most folks, 'til they sour on me. Takes a good long while though, and I don't have a problem with most types of folk either. Just take Midna for instance, it ain't too hard to take her for a shadow beast herself, but we get on pretty good. Seems like all the people around me are defined by somebody turnin' them upside down and shakin' everything up 'til they didn't have a choice but to do something or die. Link looks up towards the stars in answer to Zelda's statements, and replies, Don't rightly think it can, but I couldn't tell ya why. This place has some right funny stars, though. And two moons is strange.

A snorting bark follows. Ain't nothin' witchier than auguries and seein' things, Zelda. There ain't nothin' wrong with bein' witchy though. Just another thing that people happen to do. D'you know, a lot of witches sell beer? Got a lot of time on their hands, so they brew it up alongside whatever else they've got in hand. There's one what lives out in the woods, comes around every now and again.

You wanna know what a potion usually is? He runs a circle 'round Zelda excitedly, screeches to a dust-flinging halt and finishes, Just somethin' to make you stop thinkin' so hard and do whatever it is you don't think you oughta do. Ain't nothing but water, or beer, or what-have-you and somethin' that sounds impressive. You think it can do somethin' for you, so you carry on with it.

Naw.

I know. Might be herdin' people is harder than herdin' goats, but I've got people to herd back myself. Sittin' around feelin' sad about it don't do no good, and thinkin' only one person's gotta do it is silly. I couldn'ta gotten free without Midna, and I wouldn't know shit if you weren't around. Prob'ly just stumble around until I hit my head on something important.

The Divine Beast settles back in again as Zelda prepares to play her harp. He lets her play a little bit before he can quite follow the tune. His process of figuring it out isn't as pretty as what she heard the other night-- it's very, very trial and error. Might be she's hearing what happens at the start every time.

After a bit though, he gets it. Insofar as his voice can in fact get it.

There is a distant rattle of armor, but the Hero's Shade doesn't materialize.

  "Midna is a complicated person," Zelda observes mildly. "I do not know all of her motivations, or her secrets, and I would not presume to guess. I believe that she can be trusted, though. I know it with certainty, even if her methods might seem callous, or even cruel."

  She keeps her eyes lidded, focused on the harp. The light of the inn's lamps plays through her hair; casts light in her lashes, but she's patient as she leads him through the song, gentle and patient as the goddess whose blood she carries, for a flicker of an instant. Music seems to soothe her anxieties and her worries.

  ...Even if he keeps getting it wrong. But she takes the time, correcting him gently when he fouls a note here or doesn't hold it long enough there. "This way. Yes, like that. No, not so long, with that note; there is a timing, even if it may be difficult to hear. Yes. Splendid. Like that."

  One eye half-opens as she hears something behind the howling. A clanking, a rattle. Armour.

  Zelda smiles to herself, and the expression is reminiscent not of her grandmother, whom the Shade may well remember, but of someone much older; an impression of golden hair, white robes, and timeless benevolence.

  She does not fear that spirit, no matter his fearful appearance. The Triforce has already told her she can trust in him absolutely, just as she should trust in this monstrous Divine Beast.

  Even so, she doesn't call out to him. He'll speak if he's ready to. One does not force a spirit.

Wasn't sayin' she wasn't. Just sayin' she's shifty as hell, and I trusted her anyway. Not like we got a lot of choosin' that's actually reasonable to do though, y'know? Link points out, with a toss of his head. Don't really think she's cruel, just a bit of a spitfire. Knows what she wants and knows which lever to apply to get it done. Ain't bad, but I do wish she hadn't shapeshifted into Illia to get me on-board. Didn't really need to do that, woulda done it anyway. Eventually.

On the whole, the Divine Beast is... okay. His voice isn't meant for this at all, and even though he can sort of kind of get it right, it's never quite in tune with a harp. Or an ocarina, were one at all present. Once they're done with the song he meanders off to the edge of the water.

This is the exact moment at which the world dissolves for Zelda, fading way to an empty plane of white. There is a rattle at Zelda's back, but when she inevitably turns around it is merely a golden wolf. It shares Link's markings, but one eye has been put out and one eye is brilliant red.

Though it is trustworthy, and conceivably it is a spirit in service to the Triforce, it feels no more safe than a lion or a bear. It is not wise to touch it.

One question. The Shade's voice rumbles.

  Link's commentary on Midna is taken in with a slight shrug, chestnut hair spilling out from her hood and over one shoulder. The imp knows what she wants. There's no arguing with that. She also knows how to go about getting it. That directness is admirable, in its own way... even if her methods are a little too direct, sometimes.

  In a way, Midna reminds her of her own royal grandmother, with some of the more rough edges sanded off. The onetime Princess of Destiny could also be direct, and knew how to encourage others to cooperate. That ability of hers had always impressed Zelda. She'd gotten even the most haughty aristocrats to shut up and listen to her.

  She looks as Link meanders off toward the oasis when she finishes, leaving her to clutch her harp and tilt her face up to the light of the stars--

  Her eyes snap open when the darkness is replaced with a strange kind of light, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Clouds of mist or fog roll in the near distance, so thick that she can't even see where they might happen to be. Despite her initial flutter of panic, she relaxes, carefully studying the details of this new unreality.

  It's then that she hears the rattle, turning, still clutching her harp. It's the golden wolf; the exact same shade as that flicker of gold she had seen near Link at the foot of her bed.

  Zelda studies the spirit cautiously, but not fearfully. There's a respect in her posture that suggests she's not going to approach any closer, unless the spirit chooses to close the distance. One normally does not touch a wild beast, let alone approach it; she had only rubbed at Link's head in the depths of her own exhaustion and worry, mistakenly seeking comfort. A momentary slip.

  It speaks to her, and she lifts her eyes, summer-blue meeting lurid red. The line of her shoulders and the upward turn of her face is humble; not the pride of royalty, but the understanding of a young woman in tune with the world of the spirits. There's still a faint sliver in her eyes; a whisper of the Goddess in the way her fingers brush the frame of the harp.

  One question, he tells her. She tilts her head a little, considering, ignoring the potential rudeness of such a curt greeting. Spirits are excused from the usual nonsense of social niceties, and this one is important.

  "Thank you, Spirit." Zelda's voice is hushed, as though she's reluctant to break the silence of this place. It feels like a temple, even if it's just a spirit realm. She looks around at the rolling clouds of nothingness, as though searching for words, and then looks back up to him; to go by the look in her eyes, the sheer scale of him is enough to make her feel a little fragile. "The Sages... I have not heard of them since my grandmother's day. I have no direction to search. Is there anything that you know, Spirit, that may help us?" The next statement is no more than a breath, but no less urgent for its quiet. "We must save Hyrule. I will do anything."

The Golden Wolf doesn't close the distance. He is happy -- perhaps insistent on -- being at greater than arm's length. He doesn't wish to tolerate pawing or undue familiarity. His face betrays no expression, and neither does his posture. He listens and waits patiently for Zelda to ask her question, and for a moment seems to be looking past her. But whatever he sees beyond her shadow, he doesn't comment upon.

Six Sages, of Light and Forest, Fire and Water, Shadow and Spirit. The old Temples are broken and gone, and three peoples from whom the Sages were drawn are gone now. The girl that you found could be the Sage of Forest's sister, were she a being that could have such a thing. It is possible that you are meant to collect still further others from these strange and foreign lands.

But I, like he, am no seer or soothsayer.

The pure white environment fades away, yielding back to the cool Kaipo night.

The Divine Beast is sitting around watching Zelda like he expects her to fall over any moment. Once she's recovered her awareness of her true surroundings he insists -- rather forcefully, by tugging on the sleeve of her ragged dress if need be -- that if she's spacing out like that, she probably needs to rest.

He shows no sign that he was ever aware of the Shade's presence at all.

  One does not discomfort a wild beast without repercussion. Touched by Farore he may be, but that does not make him familiar to her, and she still doesn't know who he is. So the princess, in her wisdom, takes another half-step back and away, her movements as calm and peaceable as she can make them.

  She could have asked him his identity, the name and face that the rest of the world has forgotten. He would have answered her.

  But the Triforce demanded a different sort of answer, and Zelda knew in her heart that where to begin was the correct question; the wisest question.

  Clutching her harp, she brings her hands close, absently rubbing at the crest on her right hand.

  Six Sages, and three of their people extinct. She holds her head high as she listens to the answer, but the light dims in her eyes at that disheartening news. No matter. If this spirit is to be believed, it may be that she finds them elsewhere, beyond Hyrule's reach. The Goddesses in their divine wisdom may be open to the possibility of looking beyond for Hyrule's salvation. Or perhaps they could not have foreseen this.

  "No. You are not. That is why I--"

  The spirit realm dissolves around her. Wind from the dunes carries fine grains, and with it the chill of night. Deserts can be frigid once the light of the sun forsakes them. Kaipo's surrounding dunes are no exception... but their skies are beautiful, the wide sweep of the void spangled with bright stars.

  Zelda inhales sharply through her nose, eyes snapping open. It takes her a few seconds to realise where she is, putting the events of the last few minutes back in order in her mind; lending herself some kind of context. She frowns, because there's a persistent tugging at her arm--

  Her eyes flick down. To her credit she makes not a sound as she startles and jerks her arm away from him, tugging her sleeve free of his teeth. His wolf-instinct doesn't like people too close, and her people-instinct says don't get chummy with apex predators that can snap her in half. "I--I am sorry, I did not expect..." For him to get that close. "I am fine. It was only..."

  He seems unaware of the spirit. In fact he looks like he's been trying to shake her awake.

  "It was nothing." Zelda shakes her head and pulls herself to her feet, free hand dusting the sand off the robe. "I have the beginnings of a plan, if we are to save Hyrule, and we will have much work ahead of us. I have no right to ask, but I must depend on your courage in the days to come."

  From behind the inn it's a small matter to circle back in and open the window for Link. By the time they bang open, the princess has changed into a nightdress as simple as what she's been wearing, and sits near the head of the bed, patiently combing out her hair.

  "I saw him. Your spirit friend. He suggested that I seek out the Six Sages, and he also suggested that perhaps they might be found... beyond Hyrule. That that girl he bade you treat well may be rather like one of them." Those blue eyes linger on him, seriously. The solemnity is spoiled somewhat as she cants her head to gather her hair to comb it. "I was not going to trouble you with it, at first, but... it sounds as though enough of that has happened to you already."

You didn't ask, I offered. Well, okay, y'asked but I was gonna do it anyway, so quit yammerin' on about it like you're imposin' anything. Ain't it a bit contradictory to worry so much about somethin' you think is prophetic? Link replies, but he promptly ceases to broadcast any thoughts to be picked up. When the window opens he climbs inside with nary a thought, and sprawls across the foot of the bed. Though she speaks to him, and his ears twitch and swivel to indicate that he is listening, he remains silent. In all likelihood he's simply tired. He's been on the road for two or three days.

Or maybe he took offense at her reaction earlier. It doesn't seem very likely, Link hasn't conveyed himself as anything but perfectly reasonable. But it's not inconceivable.

He lifts his head, briefly, in answer to Zelda speaking about the Shade. The Divine Beast tilts his head sharply to one side in answer to what she says about it, but offers no answer or explanation for what he's thinking. After a moment or two of observing her in silence he sets his head down again.

Link closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep.