Shades of Blue

Discovered

Have to...get out...

What happened?

Can't...remember...

Where are you?

Come back...

Please...

Link jolted back to reality, shaking his head at himself for dozing off. His eyes had somehow drifted westward once more, to the blurry outline of Vah Medoh, which still circled in the distance, dark and gloomy on the horizon. He shook his head again, pressing his hands to his eyes and trying to quiet the thoughts constantly distracting him whenever he let his guard down. Shivering slightly at the harsh wind he only just realized was blowing, he turned away from the view, back toward the east, where Kakariko waited.

He was standing on the summit of the southern half of the Duelling Peaks, having just completed the final of the two shrines hidden there. With the one below him and the one he had found before crossing the river, he had found four since leaving the Great Plateau. His original reason for lingering on the Peaks' summit was to see if he could mark more shrines with the slate. He managed to find a handful that were close by before he caught sight of the Divine Beast, and his thoughts were drawn to the blurry past.

The wind blew harder, and he was once again brought back to the numerous tasks at hand. Wrapping his arms around himself and trying to keep somewhat warm, Link looked around the summit, trying to find the best way down. He had climbed most of the way here, after jumping from the last shrine to the next cliff. But climbing all the way down, even via the more sloping side of the mountain, would be a long and arduous process.

No, he didn't have the time for such things. The sun was already beginning to set. He needed to reach Kakariko by nightfall, hopefully speak to Impa as soon as possible. Besides, he could feel the exhaustion creeping up on him, the fatigue from scaling the mountain coupled with the puzzles of the shrines and all that had happened on the plateau before he even came here. He needed to reach Kakariko as soon as he could—he did not want to be forced to stop before then. He wanted to be done with this, this...arbitrary set of tasks he had to complete just to be strong enough to end this.

He wanted Revali back.

The Sheikah Slate hummed at his side as he walked closer to the edge of the summit, alerting him to a shrine nearby. Frowning, he pulled it out, looking closely at the broken map and trying to determine what direction it wanted him to follow. After some trial and error, he managed to sort out that the slate wanted him to go northeast, blinking insistently at him about it too.

Glancing into the distance, he saw the strange rock formations of what he assumed was Kakariko Village. A few of the tallest structures were poking out above the intermittent peaks, dark wood sharply contrasted to the pale tan rocks surrounding them. There must have been a shrine near Kakariko, or at least along the way.

Sighing, Link put the slate back on his belt and unhooked the paraglider. Another trial to face, another spirit orb to collect, another notch off the list of seemingly endless obstacles. But a step forward was a step forward, he supposed. He couldn't afford to miss any of these things—he couldn't risk the safety of the great deal of people relying on him on his own exhaustion at the thought of all that lay ahead. All he could do was continue.

At least he could fly down to the shrine...

He felt...inexplicably better, having the paraglider in his possession again. True, he hadn't known to miss it just twelve hours ago, but having it back was still an improvement. He felt more...present, more himself. Perhaps it was the memory that had come with it, or the swarm of half founded feelings that surged up when he had jumped off the plateau. Either way, he felt better. More whole. It was almost the same feeling as when he had taken the bokoblin's sword, on the plateau. A feeling of...rightness, of ease in his own self, or confidence in the course of his direction. Only this time, it was stronger, because there was no improper paraglider (like there was an improper sword)—this was his, and only his, as it had been in the past.