When the three golden goddesses were tasked with creating Hyrule, they had their work cut out for them. They had a blank slate, yet immense power; a mold with no direction, a realm with which they chose to craft into their own. There was a lot to do - yet they delegated their tasks, and got to work.

Their names, as the mortals know them, are as follows: powerful Din, she who created the material realm; clever Nayru, she who gave the realm law and order; and courageous Farore, she who created all life forms that would follow the order her sister wrote out and inhabit the world the eldest created.

Only when their work was complete, the world they created beautiful and vast, their peoples bountiful and lively, their boons plentiful and varied, did they depart for the heavens. Their gifts were, quite literally, divine; and yet, even the world they created for as beautiful that it was, paled in comparison to their final gift, the one they left in parting, a final afterthought at the end and beginning of it all: the Triforce.

It was a wonderful gift, a powerful gift, a perfect gift. And that was where the trouble came.

The power of the Triforce, those three sacred, equilateral triangles crafted of gold, was so great that it could be entrusted only to the goddess Hylia. For as sacred as it was, it could not have been granted anything less than that, for simply put, it was but a small portion of the golden goddesses' essence - explaining its holy strength.

As such...

The races Farore created were beautiful. There are songbirds spreading their tunes to the farthest corners of the land, antlered beasts that patrolled the forests, horses that galloped the plains, hogs and chickens and bovines, and beings so strong they normally lie dormant, and beings so small they cannot stop moving, beings that cannot be eaten and those that live only to kill, and more, so much more.

Of bipedal forms specifically, there were races plentiful and varied even amongst themselves: forms with skin smooth, colors varied, and ears pointed; larger forms with skins hardened like rock, unable to feel even the sharpest of pricks; forms smooth and dynamic, crafted for life on land and in the water; feathered forms capable of flight.

But for as beautiful as many of the forms Farore created were, she could not account for the darkness that dwelled in the hearts of a certain few among them. No one could.

The Triforce is powerful, incredibly so. As such, there were beings that would misuse its almighty power, but within Hylia's steady hands, the Triforce remained safe... for a time.

Throughout Hyrule's history, many have tried to steal the Triforce from her. The Goddesses enlisted the help of spirits, fairies, and lesser deities under Hylia's jurisdiction to hide - and protect - the divine gift.

But Hylia seemed always to employ another line of defense: a hero.

As time passed terrible beings of great evil and terrible darkness rose up to take the Triforce for themselves, but a chosen few heroes were granted the Triforce of Courage, emboldening them. When coupled with the courage of their own heart, these heroes would defeat their adversaries and restore peace to Hyrule, but never for long, and never for good.

—

"As for us," I continued to read aloud, "and our blessed land Hyrule, we are but one more war, one more hero, and one more greedy fool who wished to take the Triforce for himself. But very much unlike the others... our hero has failed."

Though my eyes were trained to the page before me, I did not miss the way that many of the kids before me gasped, and several sets of eyes widened rather dramatically at my words. I also did not miss the way Leah, seated beside me turned her gaze from my profile to the kids, a smile growing on her face. This was a story she and I had heard a hundred times before, and particularly a story I had read to her several dozen more times, through perhaps it was a sum far more than that, but for these kids, this would be their first time hearing the tale of our fallen hero.

"Alongside the four Champions chosen to pilot the Divine Beasts and Princess Zelda, the appointed knight fought bravely but ultimately fell in battle protecting her - as far as we know."

"Oh, come on," Leah said, clearly biting back a disappointed sigh. "The kids don't need to hear about this, especially not now..."

As ripples of questions rose up amongst the kids anyway, asking what I meant and starting to ask about anything and everything that I'd said, even nonsensical questions about theoreticals I didn't care to address at the moment, I looked at my best friend.

"What do you mean?"

"Your conspiracy theories, I mean," she clarified simply.

"They're not conspiracy theories," I said, shaking my head at her. "I'm not pulling my ideas out of nowhere."

"Yes, you are," she argued. "You're about the only girl in Hyrule who thinks the story is incomplete. I know them as well as you do - you made sure of that - and I think it's obvious that there's nothing missing, (Y/n)."

"So you want me to just take the word of a bunch of old bags who weren't even at the battle?"

"One of those old bags lives at the top of the hill," Leah reminded me. "You can go ask her."

"She's crazy," I said right away. "No way. If there's anything worse than an eyewitness report, it's an eyewitness report one from a century ago."

"So, what then?" Leah asked, keeping her voice low to avoid drawing the attention of the kids as they all started off on their own conversations and as others got up to play. "It's not like there's anyone around to ask other than her, right? She's old as dirt but as far as we know, she was there when it happened. If you want the truth, that's probably as good as you're going to get. I don't even know where this is all coming from."

"Of the stories passed down, they all say that the hero fell but no one ever said they saw his body. His body was not recovered, and his body was never found. That entire battlefield has been investigated-"

"As best they can with the Guardians walking around," Leah cut in. "Actually, maybe they're why no one can find the body. Aren't their main weapons like, lasers or explosions or something? Maybe his body got blown up. No one can find him because there's a little bit of him over here, a little over there..."

"Morbid," I said, considering it anyway, "but fair. I don't know, Leah. I just don't buy it. If the heroes really are blessed by the goddesses, then how could they let him fall?"

"I don't know," Leah said honestly. "Maybe it was fate. Maybe they were just waiting for a different hero."

I looked away from her as I mulled over her words. My eyes once more found the book I was reading from, one of Hyrule's history as though the answer would be written there now, but I knew better than that. This book was useless to me now. I knew it inside and out, and it could offer me no new information. And perhaps the full truth would never be known, not with Ganon still in control of the castle and no hero to rise up to fell him.

The book... it was useless. Where there should have been diagrams and portraits and drawings of our monuments and landmarks, there were only renditions - for no one knew what they looked like. No, our Hyrule was not the Hyrule of the past with a bustling castletown, diverse centers of trade, people of all kinds traveling the roads of our fair lands.

No, our Hyrule was the Hyrule of wartime. Monsters lurked in the shadows, ambushing the few courageous souls who did dare walk the land. Guardians patrolled the kingdom's center dutifully, as Zelda's knights once surely had.

People stayed home, and stayed within their villages, and traveled only if necessary. People knew the dangers that lurked outside their homes but dared not pick up a sword. We talked of things we would never get out to see: the Great Plateau, Gerudo Desert, the Zora's Domain, Rito Village, the Temple of Time, Hyrule Castle...

And for as far as we knew, within our lifetimes peace would never come and we would never see the land crafted for us by the goddesses.

The fate of our fallen hero, he who was supposed to save us all... I don't know why, but the burden of the missing truth weighed down on my shoulders like a physical weight and grasped my heart in a grip too painful to be made up. Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was the goddesses waiting for a different hero...

I didn't know for sure. And maybe I never would, but... I wanted to try to find the truth, if only because no one else would.

—

It started with a glow.

That was all - nothing more, nothing less, just a simple glow from somewhere far from here. Or maybe it was emanating from somewhere incredibly close to him. He couldn't be sure, and maybe he never would be. But that was alright. He cared less about where the glow was coming from and more about what it meant and more than anything else, he wanted to know who was speaking to him.

Well, more like who was speaking at him, because his throat was dry and even if he did want to speak, he could not.

"Open your eyes," someone seemed to say. The glow got brighter, brighter, and brighter still until it was nearly unbearable. No matter what the voice said, he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed, but he had the sudden urge to squeeze them shut and turn away.

But again... he could not.

"Open your eyes," the voice called once more.

He certainly hadn't moved, so perhaps the voice really was speaking with him. Who else could be nearby and refusing to open their eyes?

If nothing else, he remembered his training. He was a knight through and through, and knights followed orders. The voice seemed familiar anyway, and if that was one of his superior officers, it wouldn't do him well to ignore their orders any longer.

Only... the voice was familiar, and yet... any name, title, or face was eluding him, slipping by like a fish in a river that one might try to catch with only their hands. It didn't feel impossible, nor should it have been, but it was incredibly difficult. And whenever he seemed to grasp it, onto the identity of this voice, it slipped by him.

Who was it?

No - that doesn't matter right now. Only their orders did. So, to that end... he opened his eyes.

The golden light, blinding and ethereal, was chased away by a stark, blue glow coming from above him. There was a structure there, and the structure was solid and glowing and - yes, he was lying on his back. It was above him.

"Open your eyes," said the voice a third time. But wasn't the figure watching? Couldn't it see that he had?

His vision was blurry, incredibly so. He had heightened senses even for a Hylian so for his eyesight to be failing him so right now was jarring at best and terrifying at worst. He blinked once and then again in hopes that it would clear his vision. Fortunately, it worked. His eyes fluttered open the rest of the way, clear of all bleariness and heaviness now in favor of unbridled curiosity.

"Wake up, Link."

Link...? 

Ah, that was his name. Link, the knight. Link, the knight appointed to personally guard Princess Zelda. Link, who...

Wait.

Oh, wait, something else was happening now. The fluid that he'd been resting within, which was warm and comforting, drained away with hardly a whisper of sound. Though he was sure it had been water or some other liquid that he'd been resting in for some reason, now that it drained away, it seemed to take all moisture with it. His skin was dry, though incredibly chilled because he was...

Yep, he was naked, save for thin underwear.

How nice.

Definitely chilly and definitely uncomfortable, he sat up. After their lack of use for however long he'd been here, his bones nearly audibly creaked and he nearly groaned with the effort it took to sit up. After so long being idle, his limbs protested their every movement in one way or another, but he muscled through it.

With his hands supporting him, he relaxed for a moment now that he was sitting up. Even the single movement alone seemed to take a lot out of him, but why? He was a knight, wasn't he? That's what he knew himself to be, and yet...

He looked around, and after deciding he wasn't in immediate danger, heaved himself to his feet and hefted himself out of the pool, now completely dry. Though slightly wary of the thought of walking so soon when his body nearly didn't even let him sit up without immeasurable amounts of effort, he took the risk anyway.

One tentative step was taken, and then another.

Well, those weren't so bad.

With a third step, he nearly stumbled, yet caught himself before he could fall. Only after rebalancing did he chance another step. This time, his body obeyed, and he directed himself to the only other distinguishable outlier in the room aside from the pool he'd just vacated. To the pedestal he went.

Though unassuming in nature at first, it glowed from within with that same eerie blue light. As he approached, it remained still, but when he came to a stop before it, the glow about its veins increased as though it had been waiting for him. A circular tablet rose in the center, and out of it sprang a tablet of sorts. It looked to be of stone, or whatever material made the room he was in, and it had an eye inscribed into it. The eye's iris glowed blue, yet the veins around it glowed orange like fire and against all the striking blue surrounding it, the warm color was welcome.

"That is a Sheikah Slate," the voice spoke once more. If he wasn't a trained soldier, he'd have yelled out or reacted similarly to the surprise, but his training was instinctual and he managed to bite his tongue. "Take it."

What if he didn't want to?

No matter, came the rational part of his mind, the part that remembered his training.

"It will help guide you after your long slumber," so said the voice.

It wasn't like he had anything else to do, so he took it. Within his hands it lit up, that same eye symbol illuminating its smooth face. There was something familiar about it, the same way there was something familiar about the voice.

Interesting indeed, and mysterious too.

Without its tablet, the pedestal closed up and the door to the room opened. Link waited for a moment before going any closer. The opening of a door usually meant someone opened it. He waited for another stifling, silent moment, but no one stepped through the now-open doorway. No noises came from within that adjacent room, so going against his instincts and letting his curiosity take over, he entered the room.

In built, it was similar to the first. It utilized the same materials, with pillars and veins of orange light and even what looked like lanterns, but with blue flames further in. Before him, though, was rubble. There were old barrels, large crates, and even chests.

Well, if nothing else, his adventuring heart told him what to do.

He approached the nearest chest to find... ah! Well-worn trousers! They were better than nothing, and were seemingly his size or at least something close to it (honestly, the legs on them were a bit short), so he put them on. Goodness, though threadbare, at least they were comfortable.

When the leather belt that had been set atop the pair of pants was looped comfortably yet securely around him, to the next chest he went, though not without chucking the barrel before it against a wall to shatter satisfactorily. He waited for a moment in case the voice returned and would chastise him. That kind of behavior was decidedly not knightly, but he wanted to do it anyway. The voice said nothing, so he crouched down, set his hands against the lid, and found an old shirt.

He was starting to sense a pattern, here. The shirt was pale, clearly old, with seams weak and thread thin, but he pulled it on all the same. Once again, it was roughly his size, but not quite. It was wearable though, and he had no right to complain. He was dressed and warm, and the shirt even had with it a leather strap that he wore now over his shoulder and across his body. Though makeshift, and not a set of scabbards granted to him by the royal guard's armory, it would do. If he could just find himself a weapon, he'd have a place to store it.

He had that to be grateful for, anyway.

A pedestal sat at the end of the room, unassuming as the first, yet by now, Link knew better. He approached it, hooking the slate to the belt about his waist for now. He had nowhere else to put it, so it was as good a place as any (and honestly, he was getting tired of having such a linear way of doing things, for he very much disliked not having a choice).

"Hold the Sheikah Slate up to the pedestal," the voice ordered once the pedestal before him lit up. Unlike the first, it had a flat surface with nothing to produce, so because he was once more without other options, Link did as told. "That will show you the way."

Upon contact, the pedestal shone with a bright burst of blue that soon settled. "Authenticating," came a voice not quite Hylian. "Sheikah Slate confirmed."

Only, if it wasn't Hylian, was it another race? Perhaps the Sheikah? He leaned this way and that, looking about the pedestal and even walking around it to look for any indication it opened up to let someone inside. Was someone trapped in there?

Though he wanted to investigate further, a loud shudder passed through the room. A door began to pull upwards, and the light that broke into the room through even the smallest of spaces was blinding, dizzying, dazzling - everything all at once.

Distracted from what he was doing, he stood and walked as though possessed towards the source of the light. Standing squarely before the door, Link stood witness as more light poured into the room, chasing the dark away and dulling even the unnatural light emanating from the pedestal and the veins in the walls.

The door came to a stop with a thud that shook the entire structure down to the floor, but Link stood firm. That was sunlight. It was warm, inviting, bringing with it a rush of air clean and pure and fresh, and the smells...

"Link," the voice called again. "You are the light - our light - that must shine upon Hyrule once again. Now, go..."

The voice didn't need to tell him twice. Hylia, the voice didn't even need to tell him once. Emboldened by the feeling of such warmth, Link was off running. Up a short flight of stairs he ran, across a shallow puddle he leapt, and he didn't slow even as he approached a flat rockface. He'd have to climb, but that would be no problem for him, and it wasn't. He jumped, and he'd have cleared it entirely if he was perhaps not as unaccustomed to his limbs as he was now.

Still, his fingers found purchase against the rock, and though his body strained to pull him up, that part wasn't new - no, that was a familiar strain, the strain of climbing but it was a strain he welcomed, and hell, even a strain he missed. As soon as he could, he pressed his palms flat against the top of the rock and pulled himself upwards. He hooked a leg over the top of it, and then he was off running once more, as though he'd never stopped.

That's what he was made to do - the run, the thrill, the climb and the chase for something unseen...

His body had long woken up by now, as had his mind. But now, as he passed through the archway that ended the cave-like structure and out into the wild, his heart seemed at last to wake up.

Were those birds? Yes, and that there that his feet padded against was grass. Those were boulders, those were trees, that was a squirrel. He came to a stop at the edge of a clifftop and found himself looking towards a world both unfamiliar and familiar. There was a castle, Hyrule Castle, and there was Death Mountain and that, was that river there the one leading to Lake Hylia? Perhaps so, perhaps his geography was a bit off, but there was no denying it.

His heart thumped a little more surely within his chest.

Oh, yes, his heart knew this to be true - he was home.