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thelastpitchbender · 6 years

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Memory | Chapter 5

Summary: Link must relearn how to be a Champion before he defeats Calamity Ganon – but first, he needs to stop setting fires and backflipping off of cliffs. It’s too bad that his attempts to be a responsible hero keep getting interrupted by dumb things like owing people money, remembering hardly anything about who he is, and Yiga Clan assassins trying to kill him.

Rating: T for language, violence, dark stuff, and dumb, bad humor.

Read on: FanFiction | AO3

Chapter Index here.

Chapter 5

The Noble Pursuit of Something to Drink

It was hot in the Gerudo Desert.

Well, of course it was, Link reflected crankily. He wasn’t stupid. He always knew that the desert was hot. He always tried to steel himself. But somehow, he never quite remembered exactly how terrible the heat was.

Even with the protection of the sapphire circlet or the airy freedom he felt when he wore his Gerudo disguise, sand scoured every exposed inch of his skin. Sweat trickled down his forehead and into the collar of any armor he wore. The glaring sun burned his skin to an angry red crisp.

And then the lizalfos. Always with the Goddess-cursed lizalfos. All he’d wanted was to shoot a voltfruit off the top of a cactus, but suddenly one of the stupid electric ones had exploded out of the sand, disturbed by his arrow. What with the sand constantly shifting under his feet, harsh sunlight glaring off the yellow dunes and into his eyes, and the near-constant electric pulses from the lizalfos, combat was an exercise in frustration.

He trudged away from that fight with little but a lizalfos talon, a broken lizal boomerang, a bruised voltfruit, and a gash on his arm to show for it. He tore a strip from a spare cloth he carried and tied it around the wound as tightly as he could with one hand and his teeth. The adrenaline from combat was wearing off, and the wound was starting to throb in time with his pulse. Link gritted his teeth and looked ahead. He was almost to Gerudo Town. The walls were visible behind the shimmer of a heat wave. He could properly deal with the cut there. He only needed to avoid another fight.

As he made his way through the desert, a large rock caught his eye at the edge of the poorly defined road, if it could even be called a road. He glanced over his shoulder. There was no one within a half-mile of him. It was late afternoon, and most everyone who traveled in the desert did so before noon. Like he should have done instead of riding all night and sleeping at Gerudo Canyon Stable until two in the afternoon, he internally grumbled.

Yet another thing to add to the list of poor decisions Link had made in recent memory.

But at least the emptiness of the desert at this time of day made it easier for him to change into his disguise behind the rock. He stripped off his tunic and greaves and folded them neatly, placing them into his bag of supplies. Out came the Gerudo veil, top, and sirwal. They did feel better, he admitted. The thin silk garments didn’t chafe against his skin with sweat, and the bandage over his arm was less in danger of being pulled at and shifted around. He’d long since gotten past whatever embarrassment he may have initially felt at having to dress as a woman to get into Gerudo Town. These clothes were too comfortable for that.

Finally, finally, he was at the gates of the town. The two guards straightened as he approached. As if he didn’t need a reminder that pretty much every Gerudo was at least a foot taller than him.

“Vasaaq, Zelda,” one of the guards greeted him.

Oh, Goddess. He always forgot that that was the name he had given everyone in Gerudo Town. Someone had asked him on his first day there, he’d panicked and blurted out the first female name that had come to him, and then he’d had to stick with it. It was mortifying.

Still embarrassed, he tried in vain to search through his memory for the proper phrase. “Sav’orr…?” he tried.

“I think you’re looking for sav’saaba,” the other guard informed him in her accented Hylian. “Good evening, not good night.”

“Right,” he muttered, realizing too late that he had to try harder to make his voice higher pitched. He was fortunate that he was small enough to pass as a Hylian woman, but these Gerudo were scary and he didn’t want to get caught…

“Sarqso,” he said with more confidence. That one he remembered.

The Gerudo guards nodded, impassive as ever. What, no appreciation for his attempt to be polite? Typical.

He passed under the arch and into the town. It was like he’d warped to an entirely different place. No longer was he suffocated by the grit and heat in the desert air. He dimly remembered a shopkeeper explaining that Gerudo Town had been built on the site of an oasis, and that water circulating around the city walls kept the area cooler, if still comfortably warm.

The main market of the city had not died down yet; if anything, dinnertime made it busier. The air was filled with shouts, chatter, and laughter, as merchants hawked their wares and women from all over Hyrule came to admire them. Everywhere he looked were splashes of bright color: on tapestries that hung from stone walls, on the awnings over storefronts, in the geometric patterns of the Gerudo clothes everywhere. Somewhere, someone was roasting meat and vegetables with traditional Gerudo spices, and the warm, rich smell made Link’s stomach rumble.

He made a beeline for the communal cooking pots, right across from Spera’s stall. The merchant eyed him with poorly disguised enthusiasm. Oh, great, Link realized with a sinking stomach. He’d sold all of his monster parts to Beedle. He had nothing more than a couple of lizalfos talons left for the Gerudo merchants. They would tear him to shreds.

Link made a point of avoiding eye contact as he rummaged through his bag for something to cook. He pushed aside the bomb arrows, the Korok seeds, the chunk of ore he was saving for one of the fairies. Panic began to set in.

Where was his food? Had he already eaten it all?

Link grimaced, took a deep breath, and turned around. Spera had her chin propped up on her hand.

“Sav’saaba,” she chirped. “My, my, have you not eaten yet today?”

Link sighed, and at length said, “Uh, no.”

Spera’s grin gleamed like the blade of a scimitar. “I always do worry about you tiny vai from other places. Need something to cook with?”

“Stop it, Spera!” someone shouted from behind Link. “We agreed to split the monster parts!”

Link realized too late that his eyes had gone wide. How was he going to tell them? Were they going to convene some sort of war band and go beat up Beedle? Or worse, beat up Link?

He risked a glance over his shoulder to see Ardin, the mushroom seller, with her hands planted on her hips.

“Shut up, Ardin,” Spera snarled. “We all know you lie about where you get your mushrooms.”

“A deal’s a deal,” Ardin retorted. “You have to – wait, what do you mean I’m a liar? I am not!” She shoved past Link so that she could jab a finger in Spera’s face.

“Ladies, please,” Link muttered. As was typical, the Gerudo merchants paid no attention to him.

“I told you that I was going to start a line of skincare products with those parts,” Ardin was shouting. “Let me have this!”

“Oh, sure, you’re going to grind up some mushrooms and lizalfos talons and pray to the Heroines that it doesn’t give you a horrific rash!” Spera flicked her hand dismissively. “And what are you going to do when you run out of mushrooms like you always do, sell lizal powder featuring your rare, mysterious, invisiblemushrooms?”

“Seven sands, Spera, the invisible mushrooms are just a joke, no one actuallybelieves that I sell those – “

Their argument was interrupted by a commotion from the gates of the city. Link heard aggressive shouts and the metallic clanking of weapons and shields. He peered around the merchants, curious.

A group of Gerudo soldiers was pushing their way through the crowd that was quickly forming around them. “Out of the way!” Captain Teake bellowed from the front of the group, pushing unfortunate passersby aside with her shield.

The captain was limping, Link realized. As she passed by him, he could see bloodstained bandages binding her leg. And other soldiers weren’t so lucky. Behind Teake, several of them were being carried on makeshift stretchers.

The soldiers made it to the barracks, and the crowd went back to normal, although a nervous tension still buzzed in the air. He briefly wondered what had happened. The soldiers couldn’t have been fighting a molduga. Their wounds were definitely the result of blades, but lizalfos rarely gave Gerudo soldiers that much trouble. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he could guess exactly what had done so much damage to the soldiers.

Link cast a quizzical glance at Ardin and Spera. Spera muttered, “This has been happening for a while.”

“Those damn bandits,” Ardin added, spitting on the ground.

Of course. It always had to be the Yiga Clan, didn’t it? Because nothing could ever be easy for Link.

While Spera was too distracted by being angry at the Yiga to bug him about his monster parts, Link bought rice and some spices and whipped up a quick, simple meal. He scarfed it down and escaped to the Arrow Specialty Shop, eager to speak to the one merchant who wouldn’t demand he sell things to them.

The elderly Gerudo woman Danda reclined behind the counter of the arrow shop, eyeing him as he approached.

“Sav’saaba…” she grunted as she pushed herself up into a better position. “Your reputation precedes you. I assume you have monster parts to sell me.”

Blunt and to the point. Link couldn’t decide if he liked that or not. “Not so much,” he said, dragging the words out over several seconds. “Don’t tell the others, though.”

Danda raised an eyebrow. “I see,” she said flatly.

“Hey!” a woman shouted from behind him. Link turned to see Isha stalking toward the booth, tailed by a cohort of angry shop owners. Link felt his stomach drop to his feet. This couldn’t possibly end well. He had an informal agreement with the merchants of Gerudo Town: the merchants decided one person Link would sell to, and they would work out any issues about who wanted what amongst themselves. Link racked his brain for what they had agreed on the last time. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he hadn’tmade an agreement with anyone, and now they would all fight about it.

Isha jabbed him in the chest, and he almost wobbled. “I thought you were going to sell your stuff to me!”

“Whoa,” the fruit seller Lorn objected. “I thought we had a deal?”

Estan the butcher shoved her way to the front of the group. “Isha had a deal with me!” She cast a doubtful glance at Isha. “Didn’t we?”

Isha sighed. “Ladies, please.” She thought for a second, then smiled. “I know where we can work this out.” She pointed in the direction of – Oh. Link couldn’t see. Lorn was in the way.

Then Spera grabbed Link by the arm, forcibly dragging him away from Danda and her arrows. Link grumbled. Really? Was it too much to ask for him to buy her entire stock of bomb arrows? He hesitated to resist or even to speak too much, in case they got too handsy and realized that he wasn’t a vai.

“Looks like you lose again, Danda,” Isha teased with a flick of her hand.

Danda grunted, unimpressed. “Who really loses when Zelda will come by later and buy up my entire stock and no one else’s?”

Isha’s smile turned to a scowl for a second, then she was grabbing Link’s other arm and helping Spera pull him away. Link groaned. When had the Gerudo merchants gotten so competitive about his stuff? Weren’t there other adventurers with bones to sell them?

Link eventually realized that they were headed to the Noble Canteen, and his heart sank. There was no way this wouldn’t end badly. He needed to avoid any drinking if he was to get out of this with his dignity intact.

As soon as they entered, the bartender Furosa shouted out a greeting, and the group of Gerudo women surrounding him cheered.

“What do you think, little vai?” Estan asked as she peered down at him, then cracked a grin. “I’ll buy you a drink if you sell me your ore.”

Link did not know how to respond to that. The merchants were all staring at him expectantly, and he was made uncomfortably aware that although his swordsmanship was the stuff of legends, these Gerudo could still beat the living daylights out of him.

“Um,” he began, very ineloquently, “I have some bad news for all of you.”

He had ridden through a vicious sandstorm, withstood the heat of an active volcano, swam through freezing water, and soared thousands of feet above the ground to appease the massive Divine Beasts. He had faced vicious lynels and the deadly beams of the ancient, terrifying Guardians. He had destroyed the corrupted malice of Ganon itself, in the forms of the horrifying Blights. The expressions on the faces of the Gerudo merchants should not have scared him as much as they did.

“I only have, like, three lizalfos talons,” said Link.

Isha’s eyes narrowed. “Total?”

“Total,” Link confirmed, wishing he could sink into the floor.

Isha peered at him for a second, irritated, before she declared, “Well, this has been a waste of time.” Estan rolled her eyes and moved to the bar. The rest of the merchants followed.

Link sagged in relief. It was good to know that they were not as violent as he’d feared.

One of the bar’s patrons was watching him, Link abruptly realized. She was unfamiliar, but clearly a resident of Gerudo Town. “What?” he asked.

She shook her head. “You’re too young for them to be buying you drinks, aren’t you?”

An unexpected burst of indignation erupted in him. Screw not having a drink. This was a matter of principle. “I am one hundred and nineteen years old,” he said defiantly, straining to keep his voice high.

The woman leaned against the wall, nursing her drink. “Sure,” she said with a healthy dose of skepticism.

But he was! It didn’t matter if she thought he was lying. He had been nineteen before Calamity Ganon’s arrival, he knew that. And it was now one hundred years later. Actually, when was his birthday? It had been close to a year since he awoke in the Shrine of Resurrection. He might be twenty by now. Or one hundred and twenty.

After a few seconds of staring at the wall with a frown, he realized that the Gerudo merchants were now entirely leaving him alone, busy drinking their Noble Pursuits. The usual patrons of the bar were busy gossiping in the corner, and Furosa was pouring out more drinks for the merchants. They were all Gerudo, except for one woman at the very end of the bar. She was Hylian, dressed in dull, nondescript traveling clothes, with a sort of fidgety energy about her. Her eyes kept flicking around nervously. Link tilted his head as he watched her.

Then she turned and their eyes met. Link quickly looked away, but her eyes had already narrowed. That was…suspicious. If the Yiga Clan had the daring to attack Gerudo patrols, there was no telling what their spies could be doing.

Come on, Link. Not everyone is Yiga just because every monster in Hyrule wants to kill you.

Link plopped down in a chair. That was true. He needed to relax. But the Hylian woman did not stop acting shifty. She wasn’t drinking anything, either. Despite himself, he almost felt like the air around him was thicker with tension.

After several minutes, the woman got up to leave, but not before shooting a pointed look at him. Did she…want him to follow? Link shrugged. It was probably a bad idea, but he could defend himself.

He waited until she left, then crept out the door after her. None of the Gerudo merchants who had accosted him earlier noticed. The woman was headed for one of the sand seal rental stalls – a good way to leave the town with less scrutiny. There were many more guards at the main entrances than at the stalls.

He knew this lady was bad news. He felt it in his gut. He didn’t think it was heat exhaustion talking. She rounded the corner and walked into the stall, and Link took a step to follow her –

A hand clapped onto his shoulder. Link whirled around, half-formed excuses trying to tumble out of his mouth.

The Gerudo soldier who had stopped him raised her hands in a placating gesture. Link recognized her after a brief second as Captain Teake. “Seven sands, calm down. I’ve been sent by Buliara to find you and bring you to the chief.”

Link groaned. “I was kind of in the middle of something…”

Teake sighed, unconvinced. She only said, “Let’s go.”

After a few tense moments, Link ventured to ask, “It was the Yiga Clan that attacked you today, wasn’t it?”

Teake pursed her lips. The bandages on her leg had been changed recently, but she was still limping. She was paler than usual. At length, she tersely said, “Ask the chief when you speak to her.”

A sore point, then. Link awkwardly dropped the subject.

They reached the steps of the palace after a couple of minutes. The captain halted at the bottom of the steps and said, “You know, little vai, my offer still stands. Come join our forces after you finish that mission of yours.” Her tone was light, but the look in her eyes was strained and almost a little desperate.

Link hesitated for a second before mock saluting with an ironic smile behind his veil. “I’ll consider it, Captain.” Teake only nodded and set out back to the barracks.

Hylia, what was with all these Gerudo calling him little vai? He got that it was probably some endearing nickname, but… He wouldn’t be surprised if there had been people in his past who had teased him for being so short.

He reached the top of the stairs, and Buliara slammed the tip of her golden claymore into the ground, shouting, “Who wishes to speak with Chief Makeela Riju at this hour? Identify yourself!”

Now that Link knew how much Buliara cared for Riju, she was no longer nearly as intimidating. He grinned. “It’s, uh, Zelda.”

Riju shot him a knowing smirk from her place on the throne. “It’s about time,” she said, feigning anger and slamming a fist on the throne’s armrest. “How dare you keep me waiting this long?”

Link laughed, then realized that Riju had probably been in meetings all day due to the attack. The smile dropped off his face. “Look,” he said, “I’ve got some stuff to tell you about the Yiga Clan, and it’s pretty late, so I think we should get down to business first.” His desire to make a stupid seal pun that would make Riju laugh could wait.

Riju’s expression was more serious now as she nodded. “Buliara, I would like to speak with Zelda alone in my quarters.” Her tone of voice brooked no argument.

Buliara looked unhappy, but said nothing. Riju hopped off her throne in an undignified manner that perfectly fit her age. She pointed to her room, and Link followed.

Link cast his gaze around the chief’s room, trying to pretend like he hadn’t been in here before. It was roomy, but still managed to seem cozy and warm. It was probably because of all the stuffed sand seals everywhere.

Riju collapsed onto her bed, letting out a great sigh. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m tired, and I wanted to talk to someone.”

Link raised an eyebrow. “Is that the only reason you had Captain Teake drag me here?”

Riju shot a glance at him. “Of course not,” she replied primly. “I do have important matters to discuss with you. I just already spent the whole day talking about it to Buliara…and you know how she gets.”

Link chuckled. “Yeah.” No matter how much Riju looked up to Buliara, she had done enough complaining about her bodyguard to fill several books. “So what’s up?”

Riju gave him a long, evaluating look. Link stilled under her scrutiny, suddenly suspicious. “The Yiga Clan has been acting up again,” she said after a moment.

“I saw the soldiers earlier today,” Link said, even as his blood ran cold. She knew that they were after him. Did she blame him for the injuries her soldiers had gotten while fighting against the Yiga?

“I don’t blame you,” she said with a sigh, almost as if she read his mind. “I was just wondering if you knew why they’re more active now.”

Link sat down on her bed, then flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling. Something told him Riju wouldn’t mind. He debated how much to tell her for a moment, then realized that Riju was one of the few people in Hyrule he felt comfortable enough around to be honest with. It would be a shame to waste that. “It’s been almost a year since I woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection. I think it’s been about six months since I defeated Master Kohga and freed Vah Naboris. I’ve been taking too long.”

“With what?”

“Defeating Calamity Ganon. If I can just do that, then, you know – “ Link waved his hand in frustration. “They won’t have a reason to exist anymore.”

“Other than to kill you and make my life difficult,” Riju said dryly.

Link let out a faint laugh. “True. What exactly have the Yiga been getting up to, besides today?”

He heard the covers on the bed rustling as the young Gerudo shifted her position. “They’ve been ambushing patrols out in the desert, mostly near the northern ruins. But they haven’t gotten much closer to us than that. I don’t understand it,” she mused. “Buliara thinks they must have a spy in the town that relays troop movements. Why else would they be holding back from attacking the town itself?”

Link nodded, grim. “I think I may have found who it was. She escaped, though.”

Riju sighed. “At least she’s gone. I don’t know what else I could have done. I’m sure that if we had captured her she would have warped away anyway.”

“Maybe not,” Link said, sitting up as he recalled his encounter with the Yiga footsoldier the day before. “I think their masks are what let them disguise their voice and appearance. I broke this one guy’s mask and his voice went all weird. Also, he couldn’t warp away, I don’t think.”

Riju digested this new information, a thoughtful expression on her face. “That’s good to know. Not all of our soldiers made it back, you know. A few of them had to be left at Kara Kara thanks to their injuries.”

Guilt crashed over him like a wave as he flopped back down onto the bed. If only he’d managed to stop the Calamity the first time he’d tried. Or the second. If only… Those thoughts weren’t helpful. They would drag him deep into a mire of shame and sadness.

“The spy I was talking about earlier. She was a Hylian woman at the Noble Canteen,” Link said, trying to be helpful. “She was wearing dark clothes. Too heavy for the desert. She had short, dark hair, but otherwise looked unremarkable. She left the canteen before Teake found me, so I don’t know where she is now.”

He heard the scratching of a quill as Riju wrote his description down. Link turned his head to look at her and noted with some amusement that she was writing it down in her diary. It was a very chief-like thing to write down in a diary, he thought.

Misinterpreting Link’s glance, Riju explained sheepishly, “It’s my diary. It was the paper closest to me.”

Link nodded, hoping against all hope that she wouldn’t realize that he had already read her diary when he’d first snuck into her room. That would be incredibly embarrassing. And would probably get him kicked out of the town for good. He decided to stare at the ceiling again.

Riju sighed beside him. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “I know that I have to keep sending troops out. I’ll look weak otherwise. But it hurts when they come back injured.”

There was a strong undercurrent of despair in her voice now, and Link turned to meet her gaze.

“I don’t have enough troops to challenge the Yiga in their own valley,” she explained. “And no Gerudo soldier gets trained in stealth, so I can’t order good reconnaissance. I’m stuck, and if this keeps going, my people will consider me unfit to be chief.”

“I’m sure they won’t,” Link hastily put in, alarmed at the direction the conversation was taking.

Riju stared down at the blankets. “I know they’ve already been muttering about how I let the Thunder Helm get stolen. Sometimes I feel like a colossal failure.”

“I can sympathize,” Link said honestly. His heart went out to the young chief, who at this moment looked every bit her thirteen years of age. At least you haven’t repeatedly failed to destroy the ancient evil that will destroy your entire world.

Riju clutched a stuffed sand seal to her chest, a small worried frown on her face. Something about it was so painfully familiar. It was right there in his mind, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Then he felt the full weight of memory bear down on him like a pile of boulders, dragging him once again into a vision of a century ago.

“Big brother! Big brother!” A young girl’s insistent cries startled Link awake from his nap. He lay still for a second, trying to reclaim the peace and solitude he’d felt just moments ago.

Then he cracked one eye open to see Aryll before him, clutching her small stuffed horse with a worried frown.

Link decided he did not care. “Go away,” he muttered. He closed his eyes again, basking in the warmth of the spring sunlight.

“Link, no!” Aryll cried. “Dad and his friends got attacked!”

Link bolted upright, all sense of comfort and calm gone. “Where?” he breathed.

Aryll started to run back toward their house, waving him forward. “Follow me!”

Link cast one last longing glance at his nap spot. It was at the corner of their family’s small estate, wedged between a rustic wood fence and a gnarled oak tree, and at this time of day a shaft of sunlight perfectly lit the spot where Link laid down.

But he had a bigger issue to worry about. He ran after Aryll and gasped, “Is he okay?”

Aryll stubbornly shook her head, tears starting to well up in her eyes. Link’s heart jumped in his throat and he surged past her, throwing the door to their house open.

His father was sitting in a chair by the hearth, along with other knights and soldiers of his company. His mother was standing in front of him with her back to Link, blocking the extent of the knight’s injuries from his view. But Link could see his breastplate leaned against the wall. It was caked in dirt and mud and dented all over. Worst of all, there was a jagged slash in the metal, cutting through where his father’s shoulder would have been. The work of a lizal blade, Link realized with a sinking stomach. Hadn’t they escaped the lizalfos when they’d left Zora’s Domain?

Link took a hesitant step forward. Fear gripped him. “Mama – “

His mother whirled around, desperate irritation sparking in her eyes even with the exhausted slump of her shoulders. “Go play with Aryll outside,” she told him tersely. Short and slight as she was, she could still be intimidating.

Link could not think of a single thing to say. He saw the extent of the injuries on the other men in the room, and his throat burned as he tried to hold back tears. He had to be strong. For his father, for Mama, for Aryll.

His mother’s expression softened. “He’ll be alright, Link,” she murmured. “But I have work to do.”

Link heard a weak chuckle from his father. “Ah, leave him alone, Anith,” he said, trying to push himself up. “If he wants to be a knight, he’ll have to get used to seeing this sort of thing.”

His mother scowled and pushed him back down. “Sit down, Rossin. No, I mean it. Sit down.” His father relented after a few seconds of struggle. She slumped into the chair opposite him.

“Link is only twelve,” she told him quietly. “Let him have his last year of freedom before he begins his training.” Then she realized Link was still there, and turned around to fix him with an annoyed glare.

“I get it, Mama,” Link said, backing towards the door. He smacked right into the doorframe, then slipped out and slammed the door before anyone could make fun of him.

Aryll was waiting for him on the other side. She stared up at him expectantly, still clutching that stupid stuffed horse like a lifeline.

“Mama says he’ll be fine,” Link informed her.

Her expression immediately brightened, and she started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “That’s good, big brother!” Then she rummaged around in the pocket of her light blue dress for something. As soon as she pulled out her telescope, Link groaned. That telescope was bad news. It always meant Link would get dragged into a ridiculous scheme where he would help Aryll spy on the villagers and then get into trouble for it.

“I wanna spy on the knights!” she exclaimed.

Link frowned. Knights? Then Aryll pointed behind him, on the other side of their house. He turned around and gaped at the sight.

It seemed like his father’s entire company of knights and soldiers had set up camp in the field next to the house. He hadn’t noticed when he had been napping or so worried about his father, but it was very noisy. The clangs of armor and swords rang out in the air, and there was already smoke rising from between the multicolored tents that had sprung up in a loose block. The smell of roasting meat drifted in the breeze to Link and Aryll. Suddenly, spying on the knights didn’t seem like such a terrible idea to him.

Link heard the sound of crunching dirt behind him, and he spun around. There was a dark-haired man standing behind them, with a sallow face, bags under his eyes, and a well-maintained small moustache. He wore a navy-blue knight’s tunic, but had no weapons on him. Link vaguely recognized him, but couldn’t say whether he was one of his father’s friends or not.

“You’re Sir Rossin’s kids, aren’t you?” he asked without preamble.

Link stared up at him impassively, and Aryll nodded.

“I’ve heard him mention his kids before. Didn’t he say one of them was almost of age to start knight training?” the man continued, nonchalant.

“That’s me,” Link blurted out, unable to resist puffing his chest a little.

The man gave him a critical onceover with one eyebrow raised incredulously. “You? No offense, kid, but you’re a little small.”

Link recoiled, about to give the man a piece of his mind, but someone else beat him to it, shouting, “Linebeck, leave those poor kids alone!”

Linebeck scowled. “Aw, come on, Rusl, I wasn’t being mean!”

Rusl jogged up, soldier’s armor clanking. He had his helmet tucked under his arm. The red royal insignia emblazoned on it marked him as a captain. Link stared at him with wide eyes. Was this the Captain Rusl? Commander of the soldiers of East Necluda Company and his father’s right hand man?

Rusl also had a moustache, but he looked much nicer than Linebeck. “I assume you’ve already checked in on your father. How is he doing?”

Link was too surprised to ask how the captain knew who he and Aryll were. From beside him, Linebeck scoffed, “There’s no way he’s not fine. That man’s a real stubborn bastard.”

“I’ll thank you not to speak of the Knight-Commander that way in front of his children,” Rusl said pointedly.

Linebeck waved him off. “I technically outrank you, old man,” he said, but there was no bite to his tone.

Rusl chuckled. “Don’t let Rossin catch you saying that, Sir Linebeck.”

Link gaped. Sir Linebeck? The man was a knight? Linebeck vaguely saluted Rusl with an eye roll, then jogged off to the camp.

“Dad is fine,” Link blurted out, unsure what else to do.

Rusl grinned. “Good. I’d love to stay and chat more, but duty calls. Take care of your father for me.” Then he left, leaving Link to stare after him. He’d heard so many stories about Rusl’s bravery, leadership, and prowess with the sword. When he was younger, Link had hoped that he would one day be Rusl’s squire, but then he had learned that Rusl had not a single drop of noble blood in him and therefore was ineligible for knighthood.

His thoughts were interrupted by a tug on his sleeve. “Big brother!” Aryll said, smacking her telescope against his arm repeatedly.

“Ow, Aryll, no!” Link slapped her hand away, but the telescope went flying into the dirt a few feet away, and Aryll let out a shriek like she’d been burned. Oh, man.

His sister practically flew to the telescope, scooping it up and inspecting it closely for damage or even the slightest smudge of dirt. “I’m gonna tell Mama!” she cried.

Link froze. “Don’t you dare.”

Aryll shouted, “I will!” and promptly ran off into the soldier’s camp.

Link’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. He didn’t even worry about the fact that she was running in the opposite direction of their house. That crafty girl was probably just trying to dodge him. What – what if she got trampled? Then it would all be his fault! Mama would kill him! Without another thought, he dove between the tents where she had disappeared.

He burst out of the tents into a cacophony of activity. Soldiers were sparring, cooking, and tending to their wounds, all while laughing raucously and telling jokes and stories.

Link paled at the sight of practice swords swinging around. What if they weren’t watching and Aryll got hit? Oh no. No, no, no.

He caught a glimpse of bright blonde hair running in front of a tent across the central clearing of the camp. He sprinted for it, dodging and weaving around soldiers who yelped in surprise.

When he rounded the corner, he almost collided with Aryll. She had come to an abrupt stop, mesmerized by something in front of her. Link was about to start yelling when he realized what she was so enthralled by.

Music. A delicate, simple melody was being plucked from a small harp. The player wasn’t a man but a boy, a Sheikah youth no older than Link himself. As he watched, an older Hylian man seated beside him began to sing.

"The kingdom of Hyrule is a vast and storied land, Oft grasped in the palm of a villainous hand.

A dark force of destruction, many times undone, Rises once again - Ganon, the calamitous one.

But hope survives in Hyrule, for all is not lost, Two brave souls protect it, no matter the cost.

A goddess-blood princess and a fearless knight, They appear in each age to fight the good fight…”

Link had the strangest feeling while listening to the song. He could not place it, but it was as if he were both not him and more him than he had ever been. It was as if he were living countless lives that were not his, all in the blink of an eye – a future him that could exist, a past him who had been snuffed out. Visions of darkness stretched before him. He itched at his hands, breath suddenly short. Was there something on his hands? Dirt? Blood?

When he looked down, his hands were clean. The strange feeling broke. Link shook his head, alarmed. He wasn’t going crazy, was he?

Aryll poked him in the side with her elbow. He realized that the bard had stopped singing, and that everyone was applauding. Link halfheartedly joined them. He had enjoyed the performance, but… He didn’t know how to describe it. He inexplicably felt the urge to whack at something with a sword.

He turned his attention back to the bard, who was grinning and bowing for his appreciative audience. “Thank you, thank you,” he said. Link noted that his right arm was in a sling, and that he was wearing finery that befit Hyrule Castle, not the outskirts of Hateno Village.

“My name is Cassar, and I am Hyrule’s court poet,” the bard continued. “This young gentleman on the harp is Pikango, my apprentice. I cannot thank your wonderful company enough for rescuing us from those terrible lizards!”

The bard continued to speak, but Link turned to Aryll and whispered, “Please don’t run away like that again.”

Aryll grinned mischievously. “Aw, big brother, were you actually worried about me?” Link spluttered a denial, but she shoved her stuffed horse at him and said, “Epona will protect me!”

Link raised an eyebrow. “Epona?”

“Mama told me that Epona is the guardian spirit of horses,” Aryll informed him.

Link grinned despite himself. “Maybe Epona will protect me when I become a knight.”

Aryll said, “I hope so. Otherwise I think you’d get yourself killed really fast.”

Link squawked indignantly and tried to grab the telescope out of his sister’s hands. He never did succeed at that.

Link blinked the memory away. Riju was staring at him, deep concern etched into the lines of her face. He could not care less that she was worried.

He had – a sister?

Aryll. Aryll.

In that moment, a helpless, overflowing rage rushed through his veins, and it was everything he could do not to scream.

Did no one think to tell him that he had a sister? Impa – had she known? Bazz or Kodah? Had Aryll been with him at Zora’s Domain? In all of those images on the Sheikah Slate – had Princess Zelda really been so selfish to leave all memories of her and none of his family?

He clenched his fists, twisting up the bed sheets, and Riju timidly asked, “Link, are you alright?”

Something tried to crawl its way up his throat, halfway between a sob and a scream. He couldn’t breathe. Did Riju seriously think he could even form words right now?

Aryll. She was as bright as the sunlight, inquisitive, likely as he was to get into trouble. She took after their mother – slight, pale blonde hair, sky blue eyes. Just the thought of that brightness getting snuffed out – getting trampled into the dust, buried in an unmarked grave, if even – gone, dead –

Link didn’t know what he was doing, but he was out of Riju’s room, out of the palace, into Hotel Oasis and slapping a red rupee onto the counter, collapsing on a bed. The tears would not come. Why couldn’t he cry for his sister? It was like an endless chasm had opened inside him, swallowing everything until nothing, not even the rage, was left.

He was so tired. He couldn’t sleep, not when blonde hair and a telescope flashed behind his eyelids when he blinked.

How… how had he failed her like this? That was what hurt the most. Until Link had remembered, no one else had. She had been truly gone.

She still is truly gone, an insidious voice whispered in his head. It sounded a lot like how he imagined the Calamity to sound, and it also sounded a lot like Link. He shut the voice out, and shut his eyes.

#fanfic #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #botw #memory #link #riju #buliara #all the gerudo merchants #who i adore btw #gerudo town

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