Visiting the Temple of Time had been a somber affair. Going into the Shrines and completing their trials had been interesting events to say the least, no less so than standing atop the tower that rose up beneath him with little more than a tap of the Sheikah Slate to its once-dormant pedestal.

"Remember," the voice had called, and with it, something had urged him to turn and look to the castle, to Hyrule Castle, somewhere that he was sure he'd been before. "Try... Try to remember. You have been asleep for the past 100 years. The beast..."

With a shudder, all of Hyrule seemed to tremble as a great darkness rose up around the castle, encompassing even its tallest towers and tallest spires. And spiraling upwards was a form dark as it was evil, a blot against the daytime sky behind it. Curled horns, glowing eyes, a terrible maw that now opened... It roared, but a golden glow brighter even than the sun combatted it - and in a moment, it was quelled... for now.

Now that it was gone, he wondered if he had seen it at all, or if that hadn't been some strange hallucination. He made to look around to check, but remembered all at once that he was alone. There was no one with him. There was no way to tell if he could trust his eyes, nor his mind.

"When the beast regains its true power," the voice had continued, "this world will face its end. Now then... You must hurry, Link. Before it's too late..."

That seemed to be his objective. Of course, though it bothered him to no end, he still couldn't quite pin the voice to a person but he trusted it, he did. The voice was familiar, incredibly so... And something in him couldn't turn away from someone who needed help, as she so clearly did.

But to kill that beast, and to have been asleep for a century, and for even a statue of the goddess to tell him to bring peace to Hyrule...

Why? How? Who was he, being asked to do this? Surely the other knights in Hyrule were fighting their hardest, yes? All his brave comrades, his superior officers and those who had so kindly trained him - they were fighting for Hyrule even now, right? But no, because it'd been a century.

A century... How much had he missed, and why was he only just now waking up? Why was he the one being told to do this?

Just who exactly was he?

Even days later, days after getting off the Great Plateau and finding himself in the mainland of Hyrule, that question still burned in his brain. And so too did the words of the old man he'd met, and his true identity. Honestly, learning his identity was nothing less than jarring, and the tale he told was troublesome as it was somber.

The old man - no, King Rhoam's - words echoed in his mind, even now.

"Well done there, young one! Now then... The time has come to show you who I truly am. I was King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. I was... the last leader of Hyrule."

But... wasn't the princess...

"A kingdom which no longer exists," the late monarch continued. With a great flash, the man was no longer as Link had met him, but a king, proud and adorned in riches meant only for a king. "The Great Calamity was merciless... It devastated everything in its path, lo, a century ago. It was then that my life was taken away from me. And since that time , here I have remained, in spirit form."

What the king left out was something that didn't need to be said: he'd been waiting. For him.

"I did not think it wise to overwhelm you while your memory was still fragile," the king went on to say, turning away from him and looking out one of the broken windows of the Temple of Time's spire.

Link figured it wouldn't be wise to tell the king that his memory was still fragile, even now - actually, especially now.

"So rather than that," the king said, "I thought it best to assume a temporary form. Forgive me. I think you are now ready. Ready to hear what happened 100 years ago..."

Needless to say, Link certainly had not been ready to hear the tale of Calamity Ganon's rise, the fall of the Champions, and the fall of Hyrule. And the appointed knight, chosen to protect the princess...

That knight, he who is Hyrule's final hope and he who solely holds its fate... it was him.

And the voice calling to him, pleading him to save her kingdom was Princess Zelda.

Even days later, those words still haunted him, in sleep and in his waking hours. With only the clothes on his back, his collected weapons (shoddy though they were), a paraglider, and the Sheikah Slate, Link was deemed ready, and so he set off.

To Kakariko village he went, not like that was any less somber than where he was before. To have Impa, who was supposedly a close friend of his, say that his eyes lacked the light of familiarity hurt even himself. Impa was of the Sheikah race - so to have her wits about her at that old age was a blessing, but not unheard of. But for any Hylians or other races he knew...

If they were as close as Impa claimed they were, he wondered why she was so surprised when he requested to hear the words Zelda left to him by way of Impa. The fact of the matter was, he was prepared to give his life. Apparently, he had once before. It felt wrong not to do so again.

Something in him gave into that mentality willingly. The other was troubled, but he hushed it for now, and instead listened to Impa as she spoke.

"Not a memory to your name," she said, "yet you are as intent as ever to charge forward with only courage and justice on your side. You have not changed a bit."

No, don't say it.

"Once a hero, always a hero."

He'd feared she would say that.

—

Welcoming the warmth of the day, I continued towards the beach. After a quick bite to eat, I was rejuvenated and able to forget my desire to leave Hateno for a few precious moments, I took advantage of the time while I had it. The sun bore down on my back warmly but not in a way unwanted as I rounded a hill and continued following the path ever closer to the beach.

I was in such a good mood, I began to hum. It was a tune I'd heard people in the village sing on warm nights - nights that hadn't come around in a while, for it'd been a long, hard winter. But with the turn of spring and eventual summer, such warm nights would return and so too would nights gathered around campfires with plentiful food and drink and stories and songs shared all night. The stories were usually of the mundane day-to-day, or whatever interesting moment presented itself, and the songs were typically in praise of the valiant knight who had tried to protect the princess and all of Hyrule, but had fallen - so we knew.

I could hear Leah wanting to berate me from here on my silly theories, so I put that thought to rest for now.

As I walked along, I watched the birds of the nearby forest start to mix with the seabirds that resided here by the sea. Birds with brown plumage looked out of place when flying next to the birds with features as pure white as snow and occasionally dappled with gray. The beautiful songs of the forested birds contrasted richly with the hoarser calls of the gulls, and I found myself smiling at the sounds and the music of the sea. I couldn't see the ocean yet, but I could certainly hear the waves crashing against the rocky cliffs and the sands of the beach.

Still, from here I could still hear the juxtaposed sounds of the farms - very much unlike the sea, yet adding to its melody. There were sheep bleating somewhere, and the shepherd dog guiding them along. There were cows mooing and cuckoos cooing, and someone was calling their children in for lunch.

Further from the town I walked, and the sounds of Hateno faded away to get overcome entirely by the sounds of the beach. The path here was worn, windswept and rockier than the other paths, but comfortably walkable all the same. My gentle footfalls kept the time as I walked on.

After a short few minutes, the trail began to descend slowly, and I picked up my pace, knowing that I was now drawing nearer to the ocean and each passing step brought me closer to seeing it. Finally, I rounded a hill, and there it was. Descending even further without needing to watch my step for my feet knew the path well, I looked ever outward, past the crashing waves on the shore, past the point where the open ocean calmed, past even the horizon. 

I looked to the sky, which was about as infinite as could be and then some and I was only brought back to look at the sand when the path turned from firm soil to packed sand. Though packed, sand was sand, and it was all too easy to fall, so I focused on where I was walking for now.

There was a nearby grouping of trees that were sure to have a plentiful bounty of fruits and because their roots kept the sand firmer, lots of little creatures often sought refuge there. There were certain to be crabs and other odd creatures that had ventured away from the tide pools. I approached those trees, preparing myself to climb and cherishing the sounds of the ocean all the while when something dissonant, something foreign, and something terrible cut through all of it.

I'd never heard such noises at this beach before, and had damn well never heard the noise ever, at all...

Oh no.

I stepped close to the trees, then peeked around them. There, further on, was a camp of sorts. A campfire, scattered tools and foods, and... its inhabitants.

Oh no, indeed.

Here in Hateno, at our very own beach... were monsters.

—

A good knight always followed orders, and always sought to seek the truth and to fight for it. To that end, what kind of knight would he be if he didn't heed Impa's advice and head to Hateno Village? From what he remembered, it was a quaint town, and if Impa was to be trusted (which Link supposed he was in no way able to dispute, considering he didn't remember who she was nor their connection, let alone how trustworthy she was), then there was someone for him to meet there.

"Someone at the research lab," Impa had mentioned, but had not been more specific than that. No, the rest would be up to him, he supposed. So, to Hateno he went.

Among its other uses, the Sheikah Slate contained with it a map, one interactive and really detailed, actually. Though he'd been (apparently) asleep for a century, time could not dull the memory ingrained into his muscles and into his heart of his homeland. He wasn't sure exactly why, but Link recalled visiting Hateno once before, or maybe more. Or maybe... actually, though the whole of Hyrule felt like home to him, Hateno was especially so. 

While he'd have likely visited more than once when he was Zelda's appointed knight, it felt more important to him somehow, as though... as though it was the town in which he had grown up and yet somehow, peculiarly so, he could not quite place it, not determinedly, anyway.

He could only leave it to conjecture and to leave it as a guess - as with everything about his past and who he was. It was troubling, but it was all he could do.

But whether it was because of that past connection to the village, or perhaps because of the promise of meeting someone else of his past, or the simple reassurance for a soldier to have clear orders and a directive, he very much longed to go there, and so he set off right away - after buying a few provisions at one of the storefronts, of course, as well as a hooded cloak that he promptly put on.

Though a trained soldier and a good one at that, he had half a mind not to stick to the roads as would have been done if he was with the royal guard. He knew there was a way everywhere from everywhere else, and from Kakariko, reaching Hateno would be a simple matter of heading southeast. Yes, it would require fording a river or two, but as the crow flies, it would be faster than sticking to the roads for the one from Kakariko curled around the Dueling Peaks.

It would be so easy to- huh.

As he looked over his map, something began to glow. One of the stables? The one at the foothill of the peaks, the very peaks he wished to avoid. But why? Though his heart and his orders told him to go to Hateno, curiosity and his instinct told him to investigate, and so it was to that stable he went first.

—

Alright, so, the worst thing to do would be to panic. So, I resolved not to do that.

Ok, so now what?

Getting my breathing in order seemed to be a good first step, so that's what I did. I drew a deep breath in through my nose, then released it through my mouth slowly - all the while ensuring that I wasn't making too much noise.

After a few more controlled, deep breaths, my head seemed to clear, if only slightly. Summoning up my nerve and steeling my heart, I peeked out from around the grouping of trees. Even with the heightened sense of hearing all Hylians had, I couldn't be sure how many monsters there were, nor what they were doing other than making a mess of our beach.

The bright sun bouncing off the sand made me wince momentarily, but I forced my eyes to narrow and remain open. I may not have had battle sense, but I did have instincts, and they were telling me not to let my guard down or take my focus away from the threats just a few precious meters away from me.

There were three Bokoblins and one Moblin which was still snoozing peacefully. The Bokoblins, though awake and alert, didn't seem to be focused on patrolling or anything other than the crab skittering across the sand between them. They seemed to follow it, and one was even mimicking the movements of the crab's pincers with its fingers.

So, they're stupid, I thought. Good to know. But... why? Why is it good?

...

Oh, that's why. I was thinking of fighting them. As my eyes trailed across their camp, taking in its simple fire, the rocks they were using as seats, and the weapons scattered about in the sand, I could distinctly feel the wheels of my mind starting to generate a plan.

Things could get dangerous, yes, but I didn't think about the danger at the moment. I only thought of my village, of the people I'd known since birth. Though the monotonous nature of the village was draining, it was home, and I wanted to protect it. Leah, her younger brothers, the people I'd grown up alongside and the children I helped teach and the elders that guided me... none among them were swordsmen.

I had no means of escape, nor intimidation, nor anyone to go to for help. Everyone in the village depended on everyone for everything - one painter, one craftsman, one shopkeeper, one carpenter, one innkeeper...

I... I had nothing. I did a little bit of everything, unable to find any one thing that stuck. But this, well... maybe I could do this. Hateno had no swordsman, but maybe it was about time it got one.

—

The Dueling Peaks' stable was like every other stable in Hyrule - that is to say, it had changed a lot since his time. The tent was still crafted to look like a horse, but everything about them had changed, inside and out. He couldn't be sure if new breeds of horses had found Hyrule, but there were several colors and patterns he'd never seen before among the charges grazing in its pasture.

And the people...

Kakariko was a traditional village, and as such, the attire of the folks living there had not changed much, not even in a century's time even if the people had. But the stable, for it was a place where travelers gathered, was full of people dressed differently, who spoke differently, who peddled different wares and bartered differently.

When he ended up paying triple the usual price for a simple prepared meal, Link realized with a start that to survive in this changed world, he'dl likely have to change too. Hell, even the road here wasn't quite as he remembered it. Though details of the past had left him, those of his family and friends and memories of the battle against the Guardians and Calamity Ganon, those of the land were hard-lost, and something about Hyrule just seemed... different.

Was it naïve of him to think it wouldn't change? Was it stupid of him to think that a century would not change the roads, the hills, the trees, and the very nature of Hyrule's habitants? Surely so - he'd always been a little gullible.

Still, something had brought him to this stable, and so he checked his map once more. A new icon was glowing nearby, one insistent even though silent, one compelling even though wordless. It was a short walk from where he was currently, and so he followed it. He realized rather quickly that it was a marker trailing someone - or something, for it moved. Its location would update every few seconds, and so he picked up the pace so that he might not lose them.

Into a grove of tall trees of oak he walked. The sun did its best to breach the canopy of leaves and branches, but they did a damn good job of blocking it out. Only a few precious streams of golden sunlight filtered down through the trees and illuminated his way further into the small wooded area.

Further in he went, until at last he stepped through the underbrush and into a clearing. Having been looking down at his map, he hadn't realized he was in a clearing until he nearly stumbled over a pile of apples.

Blinking rather owlishly, he looked down at them, wondering how they'd gotten there. Had the animals of Hyrule gotten into the habit of collecting them and piling them up? He began to entertain that thought, but then...

He looked up at the first sign of movement, and it was the swishing of something white, startlingly so. There, suspended in a sunbeam, stood a horse. Of a beautiful brown coat, with a tail and mane to match her socks of pure white, a dark muzzle, and intelligent eyes... This was Epona.

She was looking at him knowingly, as though she knew he'd find her.

She nickered quietly, as though teasing him for standing there so shocked. Strangely, she was already tacked - a proud leather saddle, the Hylian crest bound to her chest, a bridle surely made for the charge of a soldier, and a blanket he remembered she loved.

Yes, this was Epona.

Already, the Hyrule he awoke in was proving to be very strange, and though this was the strangest, this was the most welcome surprise yet - aside from waking up, he supposed.

Surely, lots about Hyrule had changed, but his trusted steed somehow had not.

As he approached her, she watched him with those gentle brown eyes she'd always regarded him with, and there was no hesitation in the way she pressed her muzzle to his outstretched palm. For the first time since waking up, he felt as though he knew someone - and for the first time, he no longer felt like he was completely, terribly alone.

—

I weighed my options in my mind. I'd already resolved myself to fight, but to go about doing so, for someone as trained as I was (that is to say, not trained at all), was something I had to tread carefully through, because it could very well cost me my life. But with it now being spring, people were sure to gather on the beach as they did every year. I could not allow myself to go back to the village and relay the news that the beach was no longer safe - that would shake up the village in a way I didn't want, no matter how much I wanted some excitement in my life.

No, how could I live with myself knowing I'd be the bringer of such news? Surely, it would be worse for me to not say anything and allow people to come here and risk themselves, right?

My thoughts - jumbled though they were - came to a screeching halt when two of the monsters began to bicker. Had they gotten bored of the crab, then? Regardless, I watched as one of them picked up a club then promptly had it plucked from its hands by the other. The club was tossed aside, and as though directed by fate itself, it landed in the sand only a few feet away.

It was close - close enough to grab.

My heart hammered against my chest, urging me to choose - and yet contradictorily, it already knew my answer.

—

Epona's strides were, as they always had been, smooth and measured. Hers was a rhythm he was used to, and because she trusted him, she allowed him to guide her along the roads they used to frequent oh so long ago.

They approached Hateno quickly, quicker than Link thought possible. Perhaps over the century away, Epona herself had grown wings for how quickly she galloped, and for how smoothly she rode. The paths were clear, the hills familiar, and Epona's gait true.

Epona slowed easily when Link tugged back on her reins, and through Hateno Village's gate they traveled. At a slow walk, they took in the sights simultaneously familiar yet foreign to them.

He knew they needed to head to the research lab, but as though directed by fate itself, he desired first to stop by the beach; he was sure he had spent many an evening there, and all at once he longed to see it.

It was close - close enough so that it wouldn't take too much time.

His heart hammered against his chest, urging him to choose - and yet contradictorily, it already knew his answer.