Hylia worked quickly when she wanted to. People prayed to her for all sorts of reasons, I was sure, some being incredibly important and others being incredibly mundane, and mine resided... in the middle, I'd say. I didn't think it was asking too much, not really, and especially not for a deity of her caliber.

Certainly, people had asked for much more from her and for much less. If I wanted to make the most of this most precious life that had been granted to me by the almighty golden deities that had presided over Hylia, then surely a sign of what to do wasn't too big of a gift to give, comparatively speaking.

Din had, of course, created the material realm and the world as we knew it. Her sister Nayru gave the land law and order, our logic and our reasoning, our beliefs and our instincts. The third, Farore, had created life - all of it, from the hefty Gorons to the tiniest of bacteria.

When Hylia had been assigned to preside over the land they bestowed, then surely she knew she would have to deal with the stupidity of Hylians, at least partially? She must have known that we would pray to her, to ask for advice and for help and for miracles. She must have known, because the proof of her existence was evident in every blade of grass, in every breath taken, and in even the soil that cultivated our crops.

We'd been gifted this land and a world with endless possibilities and even more choices - so she must have anticipated that we'd need help, sometimes.

...I wonder if ever Hylia asked Nayru why she hadn't given us more sense? Or was that Farore's doing?

Regardless, if this was my sign, then it was a strange one, because it involved none other than the stranger, himself. Maybe it was less of a sign of what to do, and more of a gifted chance to actually do what I wanted - and that was to thank my nameless hero.

Well, I wasn't about to let this chance pass me by, not again. And really, how could I possibly do that, when he was standing in my doorway?

Oh, yes. That's exactly what the situation was at the moment. I had finally mustered up enough focus to offer up some coherent thought on what I wanted to make for dinner, and after gathering the ingredients and looking over what I had, I decided on a stew. I was in the middle of preparing said stew - actually, it was nearly done - when my door opened.

At first, I thought it was Leah, so I didn't even bother to turn towards the door. I figured maybe she hadn't felt like making dinner for herself and her brothers (because honestly, they were picky eaters and who even had the time for that) and decided to stop by for an impromptu visit. It wouldn't surprise me, and it wouldn't upset me, either - though I'd wanted this time to think, I certainly wouldn't have minded the distraction, and Leah and her brothers provided the perfect one.

Leah had a habit of showing up to my house uninvited, but she was my best friend, so it was expected and often wanted. So, I thought nothing of it when my door opened. "Hey," I called in greeting, just barely turning my head to call the simple word over my shoulder.

Only, because I had kept my focus on the foot, what my periphery caught sight of unnerved me, because the figure was so much different than Leah's. And besides, she hadn't said hello back - and if her brothers were here, they'd have run right in and made themselves at home on my couch and looking through my bookshelves to look for their favorite stories for me to tell.

So, when that didn't happen either, it was safe to say my heart leapt into my throat, because who in Hylia's name was in my house?

I turned my head to look, and that led me to where I was now: still looking at the stranger.

If I had to guess, I'd say there was a confused, almost concerned knit in my brows, my lips were parted only slightly yet no words passed through them because I somehow didn't have the breath or the nerve to speak them aloud, and my eyes were narrowed, because honestly, who did he think he was?

As I tried figuring it out, and choosing what to do, it very much seemed like he was having trouble figuring those things out for himself, too.

Realizing I was staring at him, I resolutely shut my mouth, set my jaw, and stood a little taller. Rolling my shoulders back and taking half a step back to pivot towards the door, I hoped I looked as authoritative as I felt. This was my house after all, and I wasn't going to let this... guy think he could just walk in!

Hylia, the audacity of men.

However authoritative I felt in this moment, it likely didn't come across nearly as well as I felt considering I chose to brandish a wooden ladle of all things, but I pointed it at him anyway, too far gone to realize my mistake and too far in to care and even if I did those things, it was far too late to back out of it.

"Do you just walk into everyone's house uninvited like that?"

Well, it seemed my words left him speechless. Good, then, because I had more to say.

"I'm not sure if maybe you thought you'd get lucky and sneak into an empty home, but unluckily for you, I am here," I said sternly.

I waited a moment, just to see if he might speak up for himself, but he didn't. All he did was stare blankly at me some more. Well, even better then, because I had more to say.

"If you're going to rob me, you're sure taking your sweet time."

When he blinked, some of the confusion in his eyes seemed to clear and instead, he looked rather upset, even a bit nervous. Well, intentionally or not, those puppy-dog eyes made me feel bad right away, and after releasing a pent-up breath, my eyes softened and my shoulders relaxed.

"For the record," I said gently, "I didn't really think you were going to rob me. You don't seem the type."

Still, he said nothing. I returned my focus to the stew, but only out of necessity. As soon as I was sure it was fine and wouldn't boil over, I looked back at the stranger. He was still watching me, and I shifted my weight between my feet uncertainly.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit aggressive," I said earnestly. "I was just surprised, that's all. Usually only one person walks into my house uninvited, but you're not her, and so I..." I shook my head, growing more wary by the second. "Sir, are you alright?" I cleared my throat. "Is there something I can help you with?" Thinking he might be mute or something, I added, "you can hear me, can't you?"

He nodded slowly at that, and though that didn't help me figure out if he was mute or not, it was evidence towards it.

Only... no, he's not mute! He spoke to me earlier. He said "thanks" to me, albeit quietly. I guess he was just quiet. But still, to barge into someone's home and not even have the decency to apologize...

With a movement of my head, I gestured to the door. "You forgot to knock. Do you know how?"

Still nothing from him, and I wondered how exactly a brick wall might have saved me from monsters. I cleared my throat.

"I'm (Y/n)," I said in introduction. "You don't need to say anything, but I've been meaning to catch you to say thank you." When his head tilted slightly to one side, I knew that he had heard me, but it didn't seem like he understood. "Thank you," I repeated, "for saving me, yesterday."

"The beach," he finally spoke, and I nodded.

"That's right," I affirmed, and for a moment, only the sound of the food cooking and the stew bubbling answered me. And just as I made to speak further, he spoke once more.

"Link," he said, the single word bringing more confusion than clarity, more questions than answers.

"Link," I echoed, and with the way his eyes lit up upon me stating the simple word, I was left to wonder what he meant by it.

Did he mean link, as in the beach linked us? Yes, I suppose that was true. It did link us, for nothing else at the moment did, save for us both being Hylian. But then again, that couldn't be it. With a reaction like that, like he'd been anticipating me saying it, but yet too like it was so unexpected...

"Is that your name?"

"Yeah," he answered rather breathlessly, and he made to step further into the house, but he hesitated. And that... for some reason, it felt wrong for him to do so.

"It's ok," I said right away, not really knowing what I was saying until the words were up in the air for his ears to catch. "It's fine, you can come in. We know each other, now. We're not strangers anymore."

"I can... I can come in? Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said surely. "You can come in. Just close the door behind you, or else you'll let the cold air in."

He did as instructed, with all the trained movements of a soldier and strangely, I felt that was partly the truth. He was strange, incredibly so. He was clearly not versed in social situations, not in the slightest.

Though he could ask questions and speak well, he seemed, shall I say, unpracticed? It certainly didn't seem to come naturally to him, as it did for so many. Even the most introverted of people knew at least how to say hello, but that's not what this was. He seemed confused, if a bit lost, and... Lonely. He seemed lonely.

A lonely stranger.

This could be dangerous, and yet I felt I could trust him, but I couldn't be sure why.

All thoughts of my prayer to Hylia - my request for a sign - fell away even from the back of my mind as I took the sight of him in, now that he had closed the door and had stepped rather uncertainly into my home, looking around.

He lowered the hood from his head and met my eyes as he approached where I still stood before my stove, ladle in hand and mindlessly stirring the food. I tensed slightly; perhaps I couldn't trust him? But no - all he did once he was a few short feet away from me was bow, as a knight would.

It shouldn't be weird, it shouldn't. I lived in a kingdom. But there were no knights, not anymore. They all gave their lives a century ago.

Maybe this was just someone who picked up a book and decided to train himself to be a knight, to be the first to rekindle the fire and pick up the sword for Hyrule once more..

Maybe this was a poor Hylian who had been abandoned as a baby, taken in by another race - because perhaps the other races had rebuilt their militaries, even if we had not.

Or maybe...

"You don't need to bow," I said, and with that, he stood.

"Don't I?"

"Are you a knight?"

"Yes," he answered right away, only for an intense sort of furrow to form in his brows. "No. I'm... not anymore."

"Are you, or aren't you," I prodded once again.

"Not anymore," he said, more surer now.

"I hope you know that answer is incredibly confusing," I muttered, turning back to the food.

He seemed to find that humorous, because he smiled, and I turned back towards him so I wouldn't miss it. And Hylia, was I glad I did. I found myself smiling at the sight, for it was as contagious a smile as I'd ever seen.

"So, Link," I said. "That's not a very common name."

"Neither is (Y/n)," he said, then looked towards my kitchen counter. "Not around here, anyway. Can I help with anything?"

"The bread needs to be sliced," I said, gesturing towards what he was already looking at. I handed him a knife, and he looked at it confusedly, and then determinedly. Thinking nothing of it, I instead responded to his comment on my name. "Do you get around Hyrule, then?"

"I've traveled all over," he answered as he began slicing the bread. And I eyed him from my periphery as he worked and as I let the stew continue to cook. Right away, he began slicing through the heel of the bread crookedly, but I spoke nothing of it.

"What brings you to Hateno?"

"Orders of mine," he spoke simply, and it seemed that doing anything along with cutting bread was too much for him, because his next slice through the warm loaf was somehow worse than the first. But still, I let him be.

Instead, I ruminated on his statement. He said it was because of his orders. But who would be giving him orders, especially if he only used to be a knight? Certainly no one would say something so formal about an informal request from a friend or family member? Or if it was for a job, he'd likely just say so - right?

Somehow, each word out of his mouth confused me more than the last. With each question, I expected an answer that might clear up his strangeness, but instead, he only revealed the truer, deeper extent of it all.

I continued to gaze sidelong at him, taking in his profile. Standing on my right side, I could see a that in his left ear, at least, was an earring, simple and blue. Those aren't so common anymore, I remarked inwardly. There was an intense focus in his eyes, as they were slightly narrowed yet no less brilliant even in the dim lighting of my home and facing away from any lanterns I'd lit. The tip of his tongue was poked out between his lips, and so intent in his task as he was, I'm not sure if he even noticed or not.

What he did notice was the weight of my gaze on his profile.

"Is something the matter?"

"I should be asking you that," I murmured. "You didn't sound very sure of your name, Link."

He seemed to deflate a little bit at that, and I wondered for a moment if I hurt him. But when his eyes met mine, I could so distinctly tell that whatever had hurt him was so far off, yet so near to his heart, that it weighed on him heavily. It hadn't been me - all I had done was brush against something he didn't want to talk about.

"I'm sorry," I said before he could say anything. "I don't mean to pry."

"I didn't know my name until a few days ago," he told me anyway.

...

Huh?

"You didn't...?"

"I didn't know it, or remember it," he clarified. "But someone... I remembered just recently."

"How long were you without your name?"

"A long time," he answered simply.

Did he have a memory issue? Was he maybe hit in the head or something? How could someone forget their name? And if he had memory issues, then maybe these orders of his were... but no, that made no sense. We haven't had knights in a century. How could memory loss lead to that? Unless he had worse problems than I thought, in which case he was delusional.

It was definitely a possibility. And what he mentioned, even briefly and even if he corrected himself, stopping himself before he could say who the someone was that told him his name... Who was it? If they knew he had to be reminded of his name, then who would let him then travel alone? He was here on someone's orders, and was only just reminded of his name.

As such, how could I dare let him travel alone now that I knew even this much?

"Link," I said unsurely, "are you traveling alone?"

"No," he answered.

Oh, that's a relief.

"I've got my horse."

Oh. Nevermind.

"Listen, I... This is probably going to sound strange, but bear with me. To thank you for saving me yesterday, stay here for the night. You've got nowhere else to stay, right? The innkeeper is out of town."

"That's right, but-"

I shook my head. "If to thank you for saving me isn't enough, then let me thank you for killing the monsters around the village. I heard you went after the ones approaching from the forest."

"I did."

"So, let me thank you with a meal at least," I offered, gesturing to the stew. "Isn't that what travelers do? Tell their stories over a good meal in strange towns to anyone willing to listen?"

"I suppose so," he murmured.

"Then stay for dinner, Link," I said, smiling now. "Allow me to pay you back for saving Hateno Village, my home."

He took a moment to consider it, and then another as his eyes searched my own for... something, I wasn't sure what. Perhaps he was looking for any sign of a lie in my eyes, any dishonesty or disingenuous intentions. But he wouldn't find any. This I knew for sure, and I smiled a little wider, now.

At long last, he seemed to come to a decision, because he nodded - slowly at first, then more surely. "Ok," he breathed out. "Sure. I'll stay."

"Great," I said, more relieved than I thought I would be. Honestly, why did I feel that way? Sure, I knew his name, but he was still, at heart, a stranger. This might offer me the chance to get to know him better, if nothing else.

But still, all my mother's words on stranger danger weren't ringing any bells at the moment, which should have been unnerving, but it wasn't.

When Link finished slicing the bread, I instructed him to bring it to the table, and he did exactly as told. In a comfortable sort of silence I continued to work, and he waited at the table, looking around my home curiously. I'd peek at him over my shoulder every so often, noting how innocently he sat there, as though he wasn't somehow a trained monster-killer.

He was an interesting boy, to be sure.

When the meal was ready, I made to lift the pot and set it on the table to make it easier to serve, but Link was there in a moment, replacing my hands with his own and hefting up the pot to carry it instead.

Wordlessly, I followed after him, and when we were both seated at the table, I portioned some of the stew for each of us. After handing him his bowl, he didn't seem to know about the unspoken rule of waiting until everyone at the table had their food to start eating (so, maybe it was just my family, then?), because he began scarfing his food down right away.

Yeah, this boy was interesting, and that was putting it lightly, because who else had the ease of fighting and diligent mannerisms of a knight, being both chivalrous and selfless, yet became so incredibly ill-mannered as soon as food was set before him?

I suppose I just had to be content with not understanding him - if not now which was for certain, then maybe never at all, either.

A few near-silent minutes passed as we enjoyed our meal. As I started to butter a slice of uneven bread, I looked at Link, still seated on the other end of the table and scarfing down his second helping with just as much vigor as he'd eaten the first.

"So," I began, not believing his previous answer, "what actually brings you to Hateno?"

"Hm? My horse."

"No, I mean..." I sighed almost indulgently and smiled. "Not familiar with my phrasing? I mean, what business do you have here?"

"Oh," he said, swallowing down a mouthful of food before continuing, wiping at his chin absently with his wrist to wipe some of the broth away. "I'm here to meet the lab director."

"Strange," I mused. "She doesn't invite guests up there often. Are you related to her at all?"

"No," he answered. "At least... That I know of."

"You mentioned you had orders to go there," I reminded him.

"Right," he said sheepishly. "I'm doing some things for Purah, but with the rain, I can't finish them."

"That's unfortunate," I commented. "I'm sure an adventurer like you doesn't want to spend any more time here in Hateno than you need to, right?"

"Actually," he said, reaching up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck in a sheepish manner, "I kinda like it."

Well, that caught me by surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answered, smiling now. "I love exploring Hyrule, but I never really got to experience this kind of life."

"Slow and boring?"

"Predictable, too." I nodded slowly, considering his words. Before I could dive too far into them, Link spoke. "You sound... like you don't like it here."

"Ah, well," I muttered, glancing away briefly. "I just... I've been here my whole life and haven't ever left. I don't know what's out there. I know it's dangerous, but I..."

"Wonder what it's like to be out there, even if just for a day?"

"Yeah," I said, surprised he understood. "Exactly."

Link smiled. "I kinda got to experience the same feeling today. I know I'm an outsider, but... being in the village today was nice."

"Huh," I breathed out, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Oh, anyway, I'm really sorry for just barging in," Link said seriously.

"Oh, that? Don't worry about it. Though I have to ask: why did you wander your way all the way up here?"

"I... got bored."

That made me laugh. "I see. Well, I'm happy I could offer some entertainment."

"And a delicious meal."

"That too." Just not recognizing it as a compliment, I laughed lightly and shook my head indulgently. "Thanks. And... thanks for staying."

Link smiled at that, a boyish sort of grin that looked so terribly natural that suddenly, the thought of seeing him with anything else seemed strange.

Strange... now that was a recurring word, wasn't it? It was a good kind of strange, though. He went from a stranger... to a strange sort of friend. I wasn't complaining, not at all - actually, I found I quite enjoyed the company and all the strangeness he brought.