Triforce of the Gods

By: Frances

folder Zelda › General

Rating: Adult +

Chapters: 8

Views: 2,099

Reviews: 6

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 1

Category: Zelda › General

Rating: Adult +

Chapters: 8

Views: 2,099

Reviews: 6

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Legend of Zelda, nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Legend of Zelda, nor do I make any money from these
writings.

Triforce of the Gods

Chapter Two: The Sheikah

Zanna had just stepped into the entryway when Helyn grabbed her by the hood of her coat and
yanked her into the kitchen.

“Ouch, Helyn!” Zanna hissed. “How long were you waiting there to jump me?”

“I could hear your voice when you were talking to Rowan and Resha,” Helyn answered simply.
Zanna scowled and felt a chill go up her spine, ceaselessly disturbed by Helyn’s extraordinary
hearing.

“Well, what’s up?” Zanna asked. “Is the Hero really in there with Grandmother?”

Helyn nodded solemnly, her unseeing gaze drifting toward the doorway that led to the parlor.
“He hasn’t been here too long... she’s telling him a little bit about the village, and her term as
Village Elder. There’s a boy with the Hero also, who sounds about my age. He said his name
was... Colin. He kind of talks like the Hero; I think he might be from Ordona too. It’s a very
nice accent, the way it rises and falls....” she trailed off, clearly listening. “Oh! I almost forgot
to tell you, Grandmother wanted me to send you in as soon as you returned. As soon as you
were decent, anyway.”

Zanna rolled her eyes and sighed. “She’s such a stickler about the whole head covering
business. I just don’t see the point....” Still muttering, she turned to go upstairs, but Helyn
grabbed her arm.

“Wait, I brought your scarf down. Here.” She pulled a soft white scarf from where it had been
hanging on the wall, and traded it for the coat Zanna shrugged off.

“Thanks, Hel,” Zanna said as she hastily wrapped the scarf across her head and her lower face in
the traditional fashion. She went to go check her reflection in the frosty window, making sure it
was tied correctly.

It was; nothing but her large, dark eyes was visible. Zanna carefully tucked the ends of the scarf
beneath the white parka she wore over her purple leggings. She peered into the glass, and the
Sheikah eye embroidered on her chest stared unflinchingly back at her. As much as she hated
her Grandmother’s unyielding orthodoxy, Zanna could not deny that the symbol filled her with
pride and courage. Set aglow by the dying fire and what little sunlight there was outside, her
traditional silhouette was truly as old as the Sheikah themselves. Taking a deep breath, Zanna
patted Helyn on the shoulder and then left the kitchen.

When she entered the parlor, her grandmother was laughing heartily at something the Hero had
apparently said. The old woman turned and gestured for Zanna to come closer, so Zanna went to
stand somewhat awkwardly by her grandmother’s side. The Hero and his young traveling
companion– Colin, as Helyn called him-- were comfortably seated on the sofa across from
Cedra’s customary high-backed chair, and they stared politely at Zanna as Cedra took her arm
affectionately and introduced her.

“This is my other granddaughter, Zanna. She’s the elder of the two, and studies sorcery, as is the
custom in our village. Zanna, this is the Hero of Hyrule and his counterpart, Colin.”

Zanna was keenly aware of her Grandmother’s vicelike grip. It was obviously the old woman’s
way of saying: Be polite, or there will be dire consequences! Grimacing (and thankful no one
could see it,) Zanna gracefully dropped to one knee and bowed as she had been taught when she
was younger. This was the first time she’d ever had to actually perform the courtesy.

“We are honored by your presence, Sir,” Zanna said stiffly. There was a brief pause during
which she did not dare look up to see whether or not the young man was smiling. Cedra’s eyes
were boring holes into the back of Zanna’s head.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality,” the Hero said. Tentatively, Zanna rose. She wasn’t
entirely sure how long she was supposed to kneel, but Cedra seemed satisfied. The old woman
gestured for Zanna to take a seat by the fire, which Zanna did gratefully.

“Do you have any questions about our village, Link?” Cedra asked, folding her hands and
smiling with a very sage-like expression. She was so happy to have a royal visitor that she was
practically beaming. It was all Zanna could do to keep herself from giggling aloud.

“As a matter of fact,” the Hero said, sending a quick glance in Colin’s direction, “I do.”

Cedra’s old eyes crinkled into what was doubtlessly a wide, bright smile. “Please, do not
hesitate to ask them.”

The Hero nodded thankfully, with a warmth that suggested he already liked the old Sheikah quite
a bit. Most people fell in love with Cedra very quickly; she was the quintessential matron.
Zanna’s fingers traced swirling patterns into the arms of her chair as she curiously studied the
young man across from her. He was, as Rowan said, dressed in the legendary garb, and he had
skin that was tanned by many afternoons outdoors. His eyes were an incredibly clear blue– not
sick, like Helyn’s, but crisp like the autumn sky and alight with courage. Something about him
seemed incredibly earnest, which unsettled Zanna slightly. Such sincerity in strangers always
made her feel... untrusting. Dishonest people, at least, were easy to predict. And yet she could
not take her eyes off the young man. He was exactly as she pictured the Hero would be (except
a bit shorter, maybe,) and that made it almost impossible for Zanna to believe that he was really
here. A strange, wonderful opportunity it was to meet such a legend... in her own home, no less!

“I was hoping to ask you about the history of this settlement, and see if you knew of any others
like it. This was the only Sheikah village I was able to locate,” Link explained. Hearing the
Hero’s words, the boy next to him nodded in agreement. The two looked much alike, and it was
with hawk-like concentration that the boy watched Link’s every move. Zanna wondered if they
could be brothers.

Sighing, Cedra leaned back in her chair and tilted her head in remembrance. “No, I don’t
suppose you would be able to find any other active villages such as this one. We are an older
settlement, founded little more than a decade after the first Great Hero mastered the sands of
time in order to deliver Hyrule from evil. At our peak, we had roughly a thousand Sheikah– all
of them skilled magicians. I was not alive to see such things, of course,” she smiled kindly. “At
the time of our founding, we were but one of many Sheikah training grounds, positioned all
throughout Hyrule in order to better serve the royal family. There were many individual clans
within the Sheikah tribe, unique and fierce and specialized. All of us served our country
passionately.”

Though Zanna had heard the story many times before, there was something particularly moving
about the way Cedra recalled the former glory of her people. At any moment it seemed her
withered body would be swallowed by the enormous chair she sat in, and the pride in her
clouding grey eyes could not hide her exhaustion. The old woman’s words reminded Zanna of
the Sheikah’s inevitable extinction, which struck a fresh vein of anger within her. Link and
Colin seemed spellbound by Cedra’s tale, which at least assuaged Zanna a little bit. It was a
relief to not have to hate the messengers. They clearly did not share responsibility for the
travesties that belonged to the royal family and the Goddesses.

“However, the royal family soon began dismissing us,” Cedra continued. “Our services, in their
eyes, had become a hindrance as opposed to a blessing. They did not release us at once, of
course, but over the course of the next few centuries our culture began to dissolve. Many
Sheikah abandoned their lives in shadow to take up as farmers and ranch hands, or to be healers
in Hylian villages. But you see, because of our extraordinary secrecy, our rise and our descent
were both carried out in silence. Indeed, few Hylians know any true Sheikah history beyond
fleeting snippets they catch like smoke on the wind. For the most part, our suffering has been
successfully cloaked in shadow. Our lives are silence. We protect that silence, for it is the
ancient way of our people.”

A spark of annoyance ignited in Zanna’s chest, and she grit her teeth to suppress a sigh This was
the primary disagreement she had with her grandmother and with her culture. Because of their
bullheaded refusal to abandon the old ways, they would die out. The thought nearly killed
Zanna, who loved the Sheikah dearly despite their faults. If only they had stood up for
themselves, instead of trying to fade away with dignity. If only they had stepped out of the
shadows, and unified their highly diversified culture while they had the chance. But her anger
was long displaced. There was no hope for such things anymore.... This village was all there
was.

“I’m sure you understand, Great Hero, that much has changed in Hyrule over the past two
centuries. The last of the forest children disappeared first. How or why, no living soul can truly
say– the shy creatures were always disconnected from the rest of the land. You have probably
heard the speculation that they were swallowed by the mystic forest at last, absorbed into the
trees themselves or transported to a realm sweeter and more nourishing than this one. Either
way, they are no more.” The words were grim and regretful. Sighing, the old Sheikah pressed
on.

“The Gerudo empire fell shortly after the Kokiri left the forest. The mighty thieves now rove the
country in bands of petty criminals– colorful but homeless wanderers, they are. Clever as foxes!
Their caravans carry dazzling performers, but their genius is manifested in their exceptional
pickpockets.” Cedra chuckled here, shaking her head. “Beautiful but tragic– their cruel empire
paid dearly for its extremism. The desert is empty. And in light of these events, Hero, I imagine
you can well understand that we have reached an era of decline. The smaller cultures of Hyrule
are chipping off, as is nature’s way. The weak are absorbed by the strong, so that we may go
forward and grow as a whole.

“Because of the secrecy of our people, I understand that it is easy to think that perhaps we are an
exception to the rule, or that there are more of us hiding in the shadows somewhere, waiting to
be called forth. Sometimes, even I think this is true.” Cedra’s voice was thick and low, like the
groan of an ancient tree in the wind. She chuckled sadly and sighed. “Oh, but this is just our
illusion, as it has always been. The truth is that the Sheikah exhausted their purpose ages ago,
and our flame will soon extinguish. When I became the head Village Elder forty years ago, I
was determined to preserve a place in which the last of our kind could gather in dignity. Most of
the residents here are descendants of Sheikah displaced from other villages. Even so, we lose
villagers every year who choose to abandon the ancient ways and seize an ordinary life. If there
are other communities like this one, I would be very surprised. I keep a very keen eye on the
happenings of our kind. We are the last Sheikah village, and the last there will ever be.”

There was a brief silence as the Hero– Link, Cedra had called him– seemed to digest the
information he had just received. He frowned deeply, rubbing his chin. Zanna had a thousand
questions about why such a story would be important to the Great Hero of Hyrule, but in her
polite silence she felt as though she were not actually in the room. It was more like she was a
ghost in the wall, greedily eavesdropping on the conversations of the living.

“I met a woman in a small, abandoned town once,” Link said finally. “She was of Sheikah
descent, but she was the only one left. Is it possible that there are... little bands of Sheikah much
smaller than this village, perhaps living in normal Hylian cities?” His golden eyebrows were
knit and he seemed to be calculating something in his thoughts. Zanna could not help but feel he
was highly suspicious.

“Oh yes,” Cedra said certainly, nodding for emphasis. “Yes, there undoubtedly are handfuls of
us scattered about, here and there. If that is your interest, Zanna would be far more helpful than
this old busybody,” Cedra laughed, laying her hand on Zanna’s arm again.

“Really?” the Hero asked with interest, clearly surprised that the younger Sheikah could be a
more valuable historian than the old sage beside her.

There was an awkward beat as Zanna realized everyone was waiting for her to speak. “Oh!
Well, yes. I could certainly give you tips on where to look. I am well-acquainted with our
library.”

Cedra was smiling wryly. “My granddaughter is very modest. She has spent most of her life
poring over the historical texts of our people. All information I receive I pass to her, and she
catalogues it faithfully. She takes a keen interest in her heritage.”

Zanna rolled her eyes, desperately trying not to laugh. If only she knew! Zanna thought bitterly.
Most of the stories were too grim or too boring to be stomached for pure enjoyment! Once,
Zanna scoured texts for the sake of finding answers. Now faithless, she maintained them only
because she was afraid that if she did not do it then no one else would, and the library she had
collected would be a waste. It was the only really productive thing she’d ever done.

“I can write everything down for you, and mark it on your map if you have one,” Zanna offered
reluctantly, feeling her grandmother’s gaze. “The only problem is that there are very few
consistencies in what I know about the current Sheikah. I know many different things about
different people of Sheikah descent. I don’t know what will be useful in finding a particular
person. I’ve never really tried to condense my information into something useful. I would need
time...” she trailed off uncertainly, staring at the hero expectantly.

He did not look particularly pleased. “I... am not sure how much time I have.” An apologetic
smile lit his face. “I’m sorry, I guess I should explain why I’m here, hounding you for
information.”

“Please, do not apologize!” Cedra insisted. “We are honored to have you in our home.”

“Still,” Link said stubbornly. “It’s not right to receive so much and not offer something in
return. I’m actually here for Princess Zelda, as I’m sure you know. I don’t really keep in regular
contact with the princess– I live in Ordona– but she recently wrote me because of a reoccurring
dream she’d been having. She doesn’t know what it means, but she knows it revolves around
one of the forgotten Sheikah who once served the royal family. The princess says the dream is a
warning, and that it urges her to find the Sheikah at once. All of Hyrule is at stake. The problem
is that even though I have to hurry, I have practically nothing to go on. All I really know about
the person is that they’ll have wings.”

“Wings?” Zanna scoffed incredulously. Her grandmother glared at her so sharply that Zanna
literally winced.

“That certainly is strange,” Cedra amended diplomatically, still scowling at her granddaughter.

“I know,” Link sighed. “They don’t have to be real wings. At least, I don’t think they do.
Maybe they’re symbolic or something, I don’t know. All I can really do is talk to as many
Sheikah as I possibly can, and hope that something turns up.”

“Hmm... That is not an easy task,” Cedra said thoughtfully. “I can’t think of anyone in this
village who has any association with flight or birds. We actually don’t have many birds here,
and we certainly don’t have winged insects...”

“I thought maybe it could be a family crest with wings, or a surname having to do with flying,”
Link offered helpfully.

“That’s rather clever,” Cedra remarked. “And it’s something that Zanna can certainly research.”

Truthfully, Zanna was a little surprised. The idea of a winged family crest was actually quite
feasible, considering the Sheikah were infamous for their tribal tattooing. Every clan had
particular characteristics, and every family within a clan was unique.

“The Yerlli clan were royal messengers, long ago. Over the years, their tattoos would frequently
contain wings to represent their speed. And then there were a few particularly acrobatic clans
who adopted predatory birds in their tattooing to symbolize swooping in on their prey. I can
think of a few other possibilities off the top of my head. I’ll have to do a quick double-check
and then see if there are any living descendants of these clans. It won’t be a problem. Except...
I’m not sure how quickly I could compile this information legibly. A few weeks, at least, or a
month if you want something really useful.”

The hopeful and determined expression Link had been wearing seemed to falter slightly when
Zanna told him how long the process would take.

“Even then, there’s no guaranteeing that the princess’s dream is referring to a family crest,” she
added skeptically. “Dreams can be fickle.”

“This is true,” Cedra conceded gravely. “If time is so important, perhaps it would be wiser to
take Zanna with you.”

Zanna’s jaw dropped. What in Hyrule was the old coot trying to pull? “W-well, I could hur–“

“That would work,” Link smiled, relieved. “It would be much easier to just take a guide.
You’re sure you don’t mind?”

Cedra interrupted before Zanna could even open her mouth. “Of course she doesn’t mind. It is
her duty to serve the royal family.”

Exasperated, Zanna just nodded and sunk into her chair.

“Great. Then we’ll leave tomorrow afternoon. Is that enough time to review your sources...?”
he asked tentatively, but with just a hint of desperation.

Cedra did not answer for Zanna, but she did give her a very long, cold look. “Erm... yes. That’s
plenty of time. We can leave after lunch. Except... one question...” Zanna squirmed a bit,
uncomfortably finding herself under both the hero and her grandmother’s probing gaze. “How
are we to know if we’ve correctly identified the person? What I mean is, what if there are three
living descendants of Yerlli?” Zanna wasn’t sure which embarrassed Cedra more– the fact that
Zanna was being cynical or the fact that Zanna was doing a very good job of being cynical.

Link, however, just smiled and raised his index finger. “Now that is actually a hurdle I am
prepared to tackle. Zelda gave me a very specific indicator. Unfortunately I can’t tell you what
it is, but rest assured there will be no doubt whatsoever when we find the right man.”

Cedra beamed, shakily lifting her old body from her chair. “Well, splendid! It’s settled, then.
Link, you can stay in our spare room tonight; I’ll have your things brought in at once.” She gave
a lovely, blushing giggle. “Our accommodations are not as fine as the palace’s, I’m sure, but I
hope you will find them comfortable, at least! If you’ll just follow me...” Cedra began leading
the boys into the kitchen. “Would either of you care for some cookies? My Helyn is quite the
baker, despite her blindness...”

Zanna watched them go, breathing a sigh of relief. She settled into her chair and tugged hotly on
her stupid scarf, which was itching something awful. Just what had Grams gotten her into,
anyway? A wild goose chase for a winged Sheikah? Zanna knew all about prophecies, but this
certainly seemed silly. At least the hero was... well, everything she’d thought he’d be, to say the
least. It might be fun to travel with a legend, just for a little while...

XoXoXoXoX

“Well, I don’t believe it,” Resha said for about the millionth time. The three friends were in
Zanna’s library, slowly shifting through the family trees and plucking out anything that might
prove useful.

“You didn’t believe it was him in the first place, either,” Rowan smirked.

Zanna chuckled, re-shelving a book of Sheikah lore. “I can hardly fathom it myself,” she
admitted. “It’s like he stepped out of a storybook, right into my parlor.”

“He practically did,” Rowan observed. His dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he pored over a
genealogy scroll, and his face was hidden. Zanna liked him best that way, with his bangs so
prominent. Caell had possessed shoulder-length hair– no bangs, just a single braid on the left
side of his face, against which he always wore a hawk feather. Long, chestnut hair that had
become red with blood one horrific afternoon four years ago....

“What about this one, Zanna?” Resha asked, unaware that she was interrupting her friend’s
reverie.

Zanna jumped a little. “Uh... which?” She turned around so that she could see Resha on the
other side of the room. It was a simple study, containing nothing more than a rug, a doorway,
and four walls covered in shelving– all of which was packed with tomes. There were even some
books stacked in one of the corners, piled nearly four feet high.

Resha double-checked the volume she was holding. “It looks like... the Tsimez tribe. They were
messengers, right?”

“Oh them,” Zanna said with a dismissive nod. “Yeah, they were messengers, but only between
the palace and the Zora. They used waterways most of the time, and used a fish crest more often
than not.”

Resha sighed. “Well, what a pity. They’ve got quite a few survivors listed.”

Zanna laughed. “I bet they do, and I bet they’re all Zora. The Tsimez interbred with them, even
before the Sheikah started disappearing.”

“You’re kidding,” Rowan balked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “That’s awful!”

“Don’t be a racist, Rowan,” Resha chided teasingly.

“I’m not being a racist!” he protested. “But... come on! I mean, where— how did they— and
the Zora lay eggs....”

Both girls burst out laughing as Rowan blushed profusely. “We’ll explain it when you’re older,”
Zanna giggled.

“It’s not that I don’t know about– you know! It’s just that fish are not exactly my specialty and I
just don’t understand...” Zanna and Resha started laughing again, shaking their heads. “Oh, just
shove off,” Rowan muttered finally, smiling a little despite himself. “I’m not embarrassed for
not knowing all about the little fishies. You two look like a bunch of perverts, from where I’m
sitting.”

“Stop looking at your perverted friends then and get back to that genealogy,” Zanna chuckled.
“Just pick out the lines with descendants and I can easily identify the ones that are associated
with wings...”

“You know,” Resha said suddenly. “It’s a shame we can’t go with you, isn’t it?”

Rowan looked up from his lap, eyes widening a little. Zanna frowned.

Resha continued. “I just mean, you’ll probably get lonely. And it’ll be awkward to be all alone
with the hero. Not to mention the fact that if you’re leading him on the backroads, you’re bound
to run into a Gerudo caravan eventually.”

Zanna wavered slightly. Resha had a point. If they came across a Gerudo caravan, Resha would
be a very useful counterpart to have. Even though she was Sheikah, her obvious Gerudo blood
allowed her to negotiate with the wandering gypsies. Resha could procure information, secret
routes, special goods, and helped to protect against fraudulent deals. The Gerudo never swindled
one of their own kind. “That’s actually a very astute observation...” Zanna admitted grudgingly.

“I know!” Resha exclaimed. “It most definitely is. And of course if you take me you’ll just
have to take Rowan, too because... er... you know. He’s good at...” she trailed off, wrinkling her
brow. “He’s very useful for... Well he’s cute, anyway. Maybe he can seduce a village girl or
two for information.”

“HEY!” Rowan exclaimed, slamming his scroll shut in irritation. “I am not just some– some
whore for you to barter off!”

Resha smacked him on the back of the head. “Do you want to come along, or what?!”

Rowan looked at Resha, then at Zanna and sighed. “Okay. I’m a whore.”

Zanna snickered, running a hand through her sheets of ebony hair. “Well... I guess if Grams is
making me take this trip, the least she can do is let me take a few companions, right?”

Resha began jumping up and down, clinging to Rowan excitedly.

“BUT–“ Zanna interrupted with one hand held up authoritatively. “You’ll have to share a horse.
We can’t take three horses from the village; it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Oh sure,” Resha said, waving away the request. “We can share no problem, right Rowan?”
Before he could answer, she squeezed him into a lung-crushing hug and began jumping up and
down again. “Ah!! I can’t believe it; we’re going on a mission with the Hero!!”

Zanna looked from Resha’s glowing brown face to Rowan’s suffocating blue one and smiled.
Maybe this journey would be fun, after all.

XoXoXoXoX

She remained in the study long after her friends had gone home for the night, and the lamp light
had whittled down to a single candle. Zanna rubbed her eyes wearily as she discarded the last
book. That was it, then. All the Sheikah descendants. Though she’d put the ones with wing
crests on top, she’d included every Sheikah who may be alive– and the stack of family trees was
still only as high as the width of her pinky. One glance out the window at the luminous half-moon told Zanna that it was quite late, but she gathered her stack of parchment and decided she
could at least condense the names into a list that would help her access information more
quickly. She wanted to finish the job tonight.

She crept down the stairs quietly, her scarf haphazardly tossed over one shoulder. Zanna headed
toward the parlor, where the writing desk was. As she stalked down the hall, she noticed with
some satisfaction that the fire was still crackling in the fireplace, which meant she would only
have to stoke it a little.

Zanna stepped through the doorway– and screamed.

Her papers flew up in a shower as she ducked out again, snatching her scarf and anxiously trying
to fit it over her face. There, on the couch, calmly watching the fireplace as if he lived there,
was the Hero of Hyrule. He had immediately jumped up, rushing to ease Zanna’s discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” he appeased, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Zanna waved her hands, backing up, noticing the way the Hero was staring at her waist-length
tresses. “Oh please,” she begged, “get back. You can’t see–“

He moved forward, shaking his head. “I promise I won’t hurt you; it’s all right. I was just
watching the fire...”

“Please, turn around! It’s not that I’m afraid it’s just–“ Zanna stopped and sighed when the Hero
put his hands on her shoulders, smiling down at her serenely.

“There, see? No harm done. I’m sorry I caught you off guard; I didn’t think anyone was still up.
I hope you don’t mind me being here...” he trailed off politely, removing his hands.

“It’s not that,” Zanna said resignedly, giving up on her scarf. “It’s just... you aren’t supposed to
see my face.”

Link laughed, tickled by her genuine disappointment. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised,
stooping to collect her papers.

“Oh, it wouldn’t matter if you did,” Zanna mused, relaxing a little as she used the time to
properly tie her headdress. “It’s a pointless tradition these days... there’s so little interest in the
Sheikah that we’d be anonymous even if we took off all our clothes and screamed our names in
the middle of the Castle Town marketplace,” Zanna chuckled darkly. “Thank you,” she added as
he placed the stack of parchment on the desk and turned back to look more closely at the young
sorceress. A brief flicker of disappointment crossed his face when he realized she’d covered up
already.

“Tradition isn’t always a bad thing,” he smiled. “Although it’s too bad you have to hide that
magnificent hair. I didn’t even get a good look at it.”

Zanna grinned. “Grandmother would kill me if she knew you’d gotten a look at all. I’m just the
worst about this scarf...” she sighed. “I’m always forgetting to put it on when I leave the house
and it drives Grams absolutely nuts.”

“Your grandmother seems like a very wise woman,” Link observed, leaning on the writing desk.
His sapphire eyes danced in the flickering light of the fire.

“Oh sure,” Zanna smiled. “She’s ancient all right, but it’s not without its payoffs. She’s made
the most of her years.” Despite her characteristic irreverence, Zanna’s voice was warm. After a
moment of silence, her attention snapped back to the desk. “Well,” she began awkwardly, “I
suppose I should...”

“Oh, sorry!” Link said, moving away from the desk. “I won’t be in your way.” After examining
the thin stack of parchment for a moment, his face fell. “Is this...?”

Zanna felt genuinely sorry for him for a minute, briefly forgetting her own travesties. “Yep.
Unfortunately, this is all that’s left of us. I’m going to make a list with only names. Once I do
that, it’ll be down to about a page. One page of Sheikah.” She sighed sadly, sitting down at the
desk and pulling out a clean sheet of parchment. “Sometimes even I can’t believe how near we
are to extinction,” Zanna admitted.

There was a short pause, as Link watched her begin the list. “I hope we find this... winged
Sheikah Zelda is so concerned about,” he said after awhile. “I’ll feel awful if I drag you on some
wild goose chase... Er– not that I doubt the princess. Not for a minute. It’s just that...”

Zanna looked up at him, and saw him staring at the list doubtfully. “I know,” she said gently.
“It’s a very small number of people. I can’t say that I know much about our Princess, but I can
say that I know a thing or two about prophecy, and if this winged Sheikah exists... he’s definitely
on this list. Look at it this way– a smaller list means fewer people to interview,” she concluded,
smiling crookedly despite the grim circumstances of her people.

Link seemed surprised for a moment, but then he chuckled. “I guess that’s true. Thanks, Zanna.
And thank you for agreeing to come along with us. I know you were probably reluctant, but it’s
actually a great service to Hyrule.”

Zanna looked suddenly stricken, but Link did not notice.

“Well, I won’t keep you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She was numb for a moment, but then realized he was leaving and dropped her quill. “Link!”

He turned, mildly surprised. “Yes?”

“Is she... kind?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

“The Princess. Is she a compassionate person?”

Link smiled with a bit of amusement, rubbing his chin. “Well... yes, I’d say so. She’d die
before she let harm come to Hyrule, anyway.”

Zanna nodded slowly.

“Good night, Zanna,” Link said, giving a little wave.

“Good night,” she whispered.

Zanna’s brow creased against a barrage of constrained emotion, her fists curling and uncurling at
her sides. She did not immediately return to her list, but spent several hours staring into the fire,
watching it crackle and whip until it exhausted itself into languid glow and lingered– too
stubborn to extinguish completely.

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