#shrine of resurrection

[kokiriofthevalley]

Rating how comfortable all the beds in botw look

PART ONE

Quick side note - tysm for all the likes, I appreciate it very much. To put how I feel right now into words, I would say that I feel like a silly little court jester who has done a silly little dance and now people like me

Shrine Of Resurrection

2/10 - would NOT recommend

◍All that fog in the beginning of the game is just condensation

◍looks like it's made for one specific height

◍ain't nobody over 5'3 fitting in there

◍no way that water isn't FREEZING cold after 100 years

◍how am I supposed to be the Hero Of Hyrule™ if I'm sleeping in cold water??

Uh oh hero of Hyrule caught a cold better tell ganon to take a week off terrorising everyone ig

◍at least the coldness would wake me up

Old Man's House

1/10 - would NEVER recommend

◍Lumpy "mattress"

◍the blanket looks so thin that an A4 piece of paper would be more warm

◍At least rhoam tried

But tbh the tried and fell like a cartoon character slipping on a comically placed banana peel

Hateno Village Bed

8/10 - would recommend

◍Looks like it would keep me warm on a cold rainy day

◍Sturdy and reliable bedframe

◍Cute and fresh bedsheets

Link's House Bed

5/10 - would recommend but at your own risk

◍cozy looking

◍Does not smell the best

You gotta think about how many times link has gone to bed without taking a bath (if he even does) and if he takes his dirty and/or sweaty armour off when he goes to bed (which I don't think he does tbh)

◍Cute bedsheets

◍Again, sturdy and reliable bedframe

◍Link might kill you if he catches you tho

Purah's Bed

7/10 -would recommend if you're small

◍Extra bouncy and fluffy bedsheets

◍tbh I really like the frilly edges

◍comfy as hell

◍Will have Purah asking you to leave tho

Goron City Bed

2/10 - wouldn't recommend

◍this looks like it's the root cause of back problems

◍yk that goron that has u get his ibuprofen bc of his back?? This is why

◍Can't smell bad cause the only thing u would be able to smell is ur burning nose hair

Tarrey Town Bed

7/10 - would recommend

◍Comfortable? Yes. Cozy? Not so much

I know that they're the same word but in my mind, there's a clear distinction between comfortable and cozy

◍cool and fresh bedsheets

◍bed would move if you did something tho, so not sturdy or reliable, it's literally just stacked planks of wood

[deuynndoodles]

[id: a colored, digital drawing of the shrine of resurrection from breath of the wild. it is overtaken by plants. vines drape along the walls and the fixture overhead the bed. the vines are peppered with small flowers. some grass and ferns grow through the floor.

warm light pours in through the open doorframe. silent princesses sprout from the guidance stone and the bed of resurrection. end id]

what it SHOULD have been in totk

[y0sei-g4rden]

Shrine Of Resurrection Head-cannon!

(sorry if I end up repeating myself)

It Heals an injury like it never happened, so much so it removes the memory of it ever occurring in the first place.

For example if you use it to heal a papercut, the memory of receiving it is also gone, thus removing the knowledge of "if you are not mindful of the way one holds paper, you can get cut." Since this is gone, there is no mental note helping to prevent such a thing to happen again.

Of course the paper cut example doesn't really showcase the problem this can cause. What if you are walking into an underpass blindly, get shot at, and a arrow is lodged in your shoulder, so you decide to go and get healed by the shrine. Then you return to where you were, without the memory, the knowledge, you end up in the same position as before, walking blindly in. You might not be so lucky next time.

As to say, what do you think would happen if you were to die? Every event in your life leads to eventual death. Therefore your life (reason) is the cause of your death (injury). So the shrine removes the memory of it.

To fully heal something, you need to never have experienced it at all.

[atlas7seo]

Really dumb question. Shrine of resurrection. Why?

Genuinely, why? Who were they resurrecting? How did it work? Why? What in this ancient Hyrule made them make a shrine of resurrection? What was the motive? Besides just wanting to resurrect someone, ya know? What compelled someone to make it?

I feel like it'd make an interesting story.

[jaynopoly]

Okay okay but hear me out. They both lose their memory. That’s about it..

But also like, they both lose their memory and are also like pure embodiments of chaos pretty much. (This is just me forcing my two favorite fandoms together)

Anywho, enjoy shrine of resurrection Jay teehee

It’s just a lil sketch so yeah I hope other people in ninjago community get it

[breannasfluff]

Wild turns back to the path ahead just as his foot meets open air. For a split second, he’s frozen somewhere between surprise and horror before his foot continues down, down, down and he tips directly into a pond.

His squeal of surprise is cut off as he faceplants the water, sinking with the momentum of his sprint. It’s not deep; the sunlight cutting through the trees shows weeds growing on the bottom. A fish darts away in a flicker of motion. While it’s deep enough for him to sink, he can easily push off the bottom and rise to the surface.

There’s a multitude of differences that he catalogs between one blink and the next. It’s just a pond in the woods, like the ones he’s swum in plenty of times.

Yet something about the situation; the adrenalin of the run, the earlier exhaustion, or perhaps just the surprise wipes away every mundane detail.

Wild isn’t playing chase with Wolfie and falling into a pond, he’s in the Shrine again.

The water is clear and it covers his head, flooding his throat. He chokes on it but someone is yelling at him to breathe. He can’t, though, it’s liquid. Don’t they know he’ll drown? Someone pulls at him—or pushes him deeper.

His legs, his side, his arm, his face. All of it burns. More than burns. There’s acid eating away at his flesh and he can feel it sinking through layers of muscle, intent on consuming his bones.

Before, protecting Zelda, the adrenaline covered it all. He just—kept going because he had to. It was his duty and he needed to protect the princess. The Guardians existed only to be cut down; to deflect bolts with his shield. To take the hits when he couldn’t deflect them.

Zelda’s screams still echo in his ears, yanking at him as she tries to get him to leave. But he can’t leave her to face these monsters alone. Link drew the Master Sword, so his duty is to save Hyrule. The princess deserves to live a life free of training and prayers. She should be at home with her research and books, working alongside Purah. She should be buying dresses and putting ribbons in her hair, giggling with girls her age. Zelda should be doing whatever teenage girls wanted to do. Not trying to save an entire kingdom.

She didn’t ask for this burden, just as Link never asked to become her knight. Or draw the sword. Or train from a young age. All of it—none of it—

This isn’t the future he dreamed of.

If nothing else, he’ll make sure Zelda lives. He is disposable; someone else can pull the Master Sword if needed. But divine power from Hylia? She is their only chance.

So Link ignores the blasts from the Guardians that fill the air with the scent of cooking meat. The wounds are cauterized immediately, so he won’t bleed to death. Pain is a far-off entity. He watches it fly by like a puffseed on the wind; noting it and discarding it.

Keep going. Running, tripping, falling. Pushing Zelda up again while she sobs. Grabbing her when she trips and throwing himself between her and the ground—between her and the malice.

She screams, but she’s not hurt. He’s the one who landed on the brunt of it. It’s on his face and he wipes distractedly. He needs to keep his eyes clear if nothing else. So much for good looks, comes the wry thought.

Link knows, at some level, that his body won’t be able to keep up with the abuse it’s taking. It just keeps him pushing forward faster. Harder. If he can just get Zelda to Hateno—or at least the fort. Somewhere others can help protect her. Somewhere safe.

“Link! Link!” Zelda’s voice wobbles in and out of hearing. He flicks an ear, but it doesn’t move right. It only makes her sob harder.

“Keep going,” he grits out. His throat is raw, but he’s gripping the Master Sword too hard to sign. When she doesn’t move he jerks toward her, uncoordinated. “Go!”

Zelda runs. Link follows.

It’s too late and the Guardians are descending upon them. He’s taken too many hits and the body he knew was fading refuses to respond. If he can just—stand. Push himself in front of Zelda again; death a few seconds faster is worth it if he saves her.

Just—a few steps.

Why…why is the earth tilting? Oh…did he fall over?

Well, that’s okay. He can just. Get back up. He always gets back up. Yet his legs won’t respond; his vision is graying out. Darkness eats away at the scene and he struggles hard. He has to save Zelda!

Through slitted eyes, he sees her step forward—fearless, strong, and oh-so brave. Then his view is cut off as his eyes slide shut without his volition.

There’s sound—

Noise—

Nothing.

Read the rest here!

[faroreskiss]

Resurrection Gone Wrong Read on Ao3

Next Chapter >>

Summary: What if the price of a 100 years of Slumber of Restoration was more than just his memories? A couple of short fics about what would happen if Link's resurrection took more of a twisted turn. A/N: Just had to get it out of my brain, just a few chapters and I'll be done, I promise.

Chapter 1 - Parched

"Although the Slumber of Restoration will certainly deprive him of his memories, please trust me when I say that he will arrive before you yet again," the maiden spoke affectionately to the now brittled sword, almost in a state of decay.

"If I may be so bold, what is it that you are planning to do next, Princess?" the Great Deku Tree inquired, observing the exchange between the sword and the maiden.

"The Master Sword, I heard it speak to me. It seems that my role is unfinished. There is still something I must do," she replied to him.

"I sense there is great strength in your dedication," the Deku Tree paused as he replied. "May your readiness match the challenges that lie ahead, no matter the outcomes that may unfurl as a result of your choices..."

This caused Zelda to purse her lips for a fleeting moment. Yet, what alternative did she possess, apart from making an attempt to revive her champion? She was already torn about it… But if there is even a slight chance that he could come back… It would be worth it.

Wouldn’t it? Would he hate her for it? She decided to not think about that now. Instead she started with, "Great Deku Tree, I ask of you, when he returns, can you please relay this message, tell him I–"

“Now then, words intended for him would sound much better in the tones of your voice, don’t you think?” The ancient tree interjected.

“Yes," said Zelda, as she bittersweetly smiled and placed the Master Sword back on its pedestal once again.

100 years later

A feeling, a hue of light appeared in his vision, so bright yet gentle. A voice accompanied it, though he could not make out what it was trying to say.

“...”

“...k”

"Link."

Did he know the voice? It was so familiar, yet so foreign… So warm, yet so far away. It was speaking to him. Urging him to… do something, coaxing him to take action. Link? That was his name. At least he believed it was.

“Open your eyes…”

“Wake up, Link.”

As he started to lift his eyelids, everything was blurry at first. Then, he had the sensation of floating in some type of liquid, slowly leaving him. Finally opening his eyes, he saw the ornate roof, and the overall blue hue around his vision cleared. He tried wiggling his toes, fingers, and slowly rose up from wherever he was laying down. It was really cold, yet it did not startle him one bit, for some reason. Just his throat felt a bit dry…

Where was this place? He was also familiar with the structure, yet… His body felt a bit off. It felt strong, too strong for someone who just woke up from what felt like a long slumber. No grogginess at all. He composed himself and got out of the “bed” he had been in and took a look at it. 

That’s when an overwhelming sensation came over him again, forming like a knot in his throat. Dry, so dry… He was so thirsty… parched, exceedingly. He took a deep breath, which made it even worse initially, but at least helped him calm down. He stretched his limbs, they felt sturdy. As he turned and walked around, he saw a pedestal with some type of device on it, reacting to him as he went near. He was startled for a moment.

“That is a Sheikah Slate, take it. It will help guide you after your long slumber.”

That, that voice again. He thought he knew the voice now, but any memory he had was so hazy, as if covered with an extremely thick fog that prevented him from being able to identify it. His thirst was not helping either. He noticed a wooden door opening now, right after he took the device. Behind the door were a set of clothes in a chest, along with five bottles of water and some… red potions? He wasn’t sure. He gulped down the water immediately. When he wasn’t satisfied, he finished another bottle. And then another one. In the end, he drank all of them.

But he was still thirsty. He groaned. His dry throat was throbbing with thirst. He was still able to function, but the sensation wasn’t getting any better. Giving up for now, as it was still manageable to an extent, he wore the clothes he found, took the ‘potions’, and made his way outside, as he heard the voice again.

“Link, you are the light, our light. You must shine upon Hyrule once again. Now go…”

The voice continued, with a bittersweet tone. “…and I’m sorry”

As the doors creaked open before him, the sunlight washed over his body, slowly warming him up. He stepped toward the cliff's edge, a bit too fast for his comfort, a panoramic view laid out before his eyes. His homeland stretched beneath him, no doubt about it – he was in Hyrule, he remembered that much. But something was different, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

The scene unfolded like a painting of extraordinary detail. Colors popped, sharper than they had any right to be. The leaves on trees danced with a kind of intensity, their whispers reaching his ears like secrets carried by the wind. The very ground beneath his feet felt alive, thrumming with a rhythm that resonated through him. Birds serenaded him from afar, their songs hitting his ears with crystal clarity, each note a distinct brushstroke in the canvas of sound. Was it always like this? Was everything always this sharp? He wasn’t sure.

He took another breath. His damned throat. It was making itself known again. Why was he still thirsty? He felt, dare he say, amazing in every other way, at least physically.

As he grabbed the Slate again, wanting to at least take a look at it once more, he initially saw and was able to study his blurred reflection on the black screen, a split second before it lit up. He looked… ordinary?

He fiddled around with the Slate a bit, discovering its capability of acting as an adventurer’s bag. Neat. But then he noticed his hands holding it, and then his arms. His memories were a haze, but he was certain his complexion wasn't meant to be so pale, his hands so devoid of their usual hue, looking like white porcelain with subtle cracks on it.

“What the hell is going on…” he muttered to himself, only to realize that the air passing through his throat was just making the bad feeling worse.

For a moment, it made sense. Maybe he was just sick after all? That wouldn’t explain how he was feeling almost amazing in every other way, but the combination of pale skin and a burning throat? Surely, he could very well be sick. He took that red potion out of his inventory, for some reason instinctively expecting a grimacing bitter, vile taste. As he popped the cork open, however, an almost sweet, delicious smell wafted out of it, making the ache in his throat even worse.

Huh?

He hesitantly brought it to his lips, unable to stop himself from savoring the taste. He twirled his tongue as the contents of the bottle swished in his mouth and slowly made its way down his throat, creating a soothing sensation. It was… delicious. With a sigh of relief, he thought to himself that he must have been a bit ill after all. He supposedly slept a long time, didn’t he?

The burning feeling in his throat was not gone, but it was reduced enough to not distract him as much anymore. That's when he noticed a small fire and an old man near it. Deciding to investigate, he made his way toward the fire.

Next Chapter >>

[werewolfsister]

The Shrine of Resurrection

Uhoh

[championsoftheforcecomic]

266

~If you like this comic, give it a like and reblog!~

[bladeofthebookworms]

Under the Shrine of Resurrection in the Depths...

So I noticed that, more or less beneath the Shrine of Resurrection in TotK, there's a location called "Secret Spring of Revival" that heals half a heart at a time instead of just a quarter of a heart. I thought that was super cool!!! Was that how the Shrine of Resurrection worked maybe?

[notthedictionary]

"you have been asleep for the past 100 years"

[aikoiya]

... Wait... Do you think what actually happened was that Link DID die & that the damage was too much to fix?

Do you think that what actually happened was that... they all thought he was simply being revived & healed, but in actuality, when he was placed in the waters, the Shrine of Resurrection basically rebuilt him from the ground up around his own soul & that's why it took so long???

I... I think that it's still him. Still the Link that died, but... in, like, a new body. But, at the same time, also his own reincarnation.

did i die then?

[blueskittlesart]

Open your eyes...

[daeyumi]

Resuscitate.

[2022]

[kittykatninja321]

Thinking about how Bruce treated Jason’s legacy after his death is kinda pissing me off and the only consolation is knowing that whatever peace Bruce created for himself by warping his memory and telling himself that Jason’s death was due to his own recklessness and anger in order to cope was greatly disturbed and shaken by Jason’s return. Pain and suffering on planet earth <3

[faroreskiss]

Resurrection Gone Wrong

Read on Ao3

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Summary: Link finally arrives at Kakariko Village for some answers, yet ends up even more frustrated.

Chapter 3 - Frustration

And thus, he confirmed what he was afraid of… The delicious smell wasn’t coming from the cooked food.

It was coming from people. 

—

He wanted to drink in that smell, bathe in it. Savor every single taste of it. The need, the need for it was so strong, so primal. The body close to him was not making it any easier. He closed his eyes, tried to calm himself, and stayed perfectly still. Too perfect. Too still.

“Hey… is he, is he dead? He isn’t moving!” A voice rose from the crowd.

“He doesn’t look very well… Look at this hair and clothes! Is he okay?”

“Oh my…”

 The overall rising anxiety (and the pity) of the “public” of a few people, was not helping. Their blood pressures were rising ever so slightly, blood pumping in their veins ever so faster, and faster. He could feel it, sense it, his mouth was watering. He didn’t know what to do. The proximity of the warm body beside him was akin to a scorching fire, searing his senses and igniting an almost feverish anticipation.

Suddenly, he jerked his arm off from the woman who was trying to help, and put quite the distance between them, almost in a flash. Gasps escaped from the crowd. It was so sudden, so strong that the woman lost her balance as she was squatting down to help him, falling a bit too strong to the dirt floor of the stable yard, scraping one of her elbows slightly.

As if a switch had been flipped inside him, a surge of internal chaos erupted, drowning out reason and control. The need, raw and instinctual, seized him in its grip, demanding to be satisfied. The tantalizing aroma enveloping him wasn't just a scent; it was a siren's call, a symphony of an ancient desire that resonated through his every fiber.

His senses whirled, torn between the primal yearning and the faint whisper of the Goddess's words. In that precarious moment, he found himself teetering on the edge of something he couldn't quite comprehend. Suddenly, his body seemingly moving on its own accord, he found himself on top of the woman with the scraped elbow, pinning her down to the floor, staring at the cut at her arm, just wanting to lick it. The woman screamed, there were people behind him trying to get him off of her.

“What is he doing?!” 

“Help!”

“He is so heavy, doesn’t even budge!”

The voices were just white noise in his disheveled, hungry mind. He traced one of his fingers idly from the woman’s cut to her neck, hearing and also feeling on his fingertips how the blood passes through her jugular. Then he saw her eyes, filled with fear, with terror. He saw his own reflection in the horror of her eyes. Everything was so hazy. All he could think about was how he could reach the source… How he can drink it all. 

Was he the reason for this? Was it him? 

An ephemeral echo of divine guidance surfaced in the recesses of his mind. He froze, realization hitting him once again. …uphold your strength of will, the words were.

It was like a lifeline, a fragile thread of sanity woven into the tumult. Her voice, a calming breeze amid the storm, reminded him of his resolve. Now he was the one who was horrified.

Drawing in a deep, ragged breath thanks to his old reflexes, he pushed himself up from the floor, disoriented and yet strangely awakened.

He was propelled by a newfound urgency, a need to escape the allure that had nearly trapped him. With an unsteady but determined gait, he made his way out of the stable area, the voices of the crowd echoing in his ears as they faded into the distance. The words of the Goddess remained a distant but steadfast beacon. He licked the almost dried blood on his fingers, it was delicious, divine. He was disgusted by himself. 

—

The village of Kakariko beckoned on the horizon, its hazy outlines gradually taking form as he trudged forward. Each step was a battle, not against the physical exertion, but against the war within himself. Trying to avoid any person he felt like he was going to see soon. The memories of his near transgression replayed in his mind like a haunting refrain, a stark reminder of the abyss that lurked within him.

The sun, casting long shadows across the path, seemed to offer a semblance of comfort amidst his internal turmoil. He could still hear their voices, those innocent voices that had questioned his well-being, voices that had unwittingly threatened to unveil his hidden nature. It was the kind concern in their words that fueled his disgust even more – their genuine worry stood in stark contrast to the darkness he had almost unleashed.

As he approached the village's outskirts, the bustling sounds and vibrant sights of Kakariko Village greeted him. The ordinary routines of daily life – merchants hawking their wares, children playing by the fountain – seemed to cast a veil over the primal struggle that had unfolded just moments ago. He couldn't help but feel like an imposter, a creature shrouded in a veneer of humanity that masked the tempest brewing within. And the smells, oh the smells… 

He saw the big building with little Goddesses statues lined up in front. A woman with a long white and intricate hairstyle was putting some apples… offerings for them. Very carefully he approached her, trying to talk to her but also keeping his distance. He was holding his breath, he wasn't sure if he could bear it, keeping his resolve even more if he opened his mouth once again. Guilt was eating at him already, but thirst even more. He stood still, too still. Somebody could mistake him for a statue.

The woman made eye contact with him, then blushed.

"H-hello!"

Then she seemed to have realized what he is, her eyes widened, the curls of her mouth dropped. She backed off a little bit, was it also fear in her eyes…? No, it was… something else. She seemed to have taken a deep breath, and it looked as if she was reaching for something behind her back… Her eyes then fell to his hips, where the Slate was hanging, then she spoke.

"C-come with me please…"

Link was still holding his breath, he didn't dare to open his mouth, lest he take more air into his throat. At this point, he most likely hasn't realized yet how many hours has it been since he took a breath. He just nodded and followed her through the stairs, passing by two guards with spears that had some type of an understanding between them and the woman. He could tell, because the hearts of the two guards were beating like crazy as he was passing by, despite their calm appearance. They were.. scared. He could feel his teeth touching his inner lip, they were aching.

As they went inside, he saw a very old lady sitting at the center of the room. It was a cozy place, and something was oddly familiar about this old woman as well. She was alert as she saw him, but calm. Truly calm. There was a glint of recognition so clear as she stared at him that it was unmistakable. She knew him. 

"Oh, so you are finally awake… It has been a long time, Link," she smiled at him. Smiled!

There was also… concern? She looked up back at the other woman that brought him.

"Paya, can you bring me the little chest we have up here? Yes, yes that one…"

As Paya, apparently the young woman was called, brought the chest, the old lady opened it and revealed its crimson contents. The bottles. Link knew right away what they were, his face constricted in what he assumed was pain, guilt and thirst as he looked at them, barely containing himself as he felt his fangs touching his inner lip. He squeezed his knuckles and gulped. 

The old woman popped one big bottle open, and the aroma filling his nostrils made him groan. He looked away, embarrassed. She extended her hand with the bottle to him.

"Drink. Then we shall talk."

Link couldn't make eye contact with the old woman as he hastily took the big bottle and started gulping it down, like a wanderer who has lost their way in a scorching desert without water for days. He didn't waste a single drop, even licking the rim of the bottle after he was done. He didn't care, he was so parched. He tried not to think about what's in the bottle, just focused on the sensation.

The horrible feeling in his throat finally settled down, reduced to a mere annoying ache. He felt calmer, more in control. He saw that Paya was smiling now, handing him a towel, as she pointed towards his mouth. And the guilt and the embarrassment… They also came back tenfold. He mumbled thanks and took the towel, wiping his mouth off, seeing the red stains on it. He was feeling mortified. 

"I am much older now… But you remember me, don’t you?" she started again, he didn’t think she was expecting him to answer. He was still staring at the towel with stains, clearly expecting answers. She noticed it as well. 

"I… shall explain everything about that too. But first, let me tell you what happened and what is happening right now."

Link was annoyed as he nodded, but now at least he felt rational enough to listen to Impa, as she introduced herself again. 

Paya closed the door behind them, she prepared some type of incense, which somehow succeeded in masking all the smell of delicious— Oh no… he sighed internally. No, no, no… 

—

After Impa explained about the legends of the hero with the courageous spirit and the maiden with the blood of the Goddess reincarnating the primal evil again and again, he did have a sense of familiarity with it, especially after remembering the words of the voice. He didn’t understand why she was telling him this, but he did not interrupt. She kept talking about the technological advancements, how the people of Hyrule prepared for it, Guardians and Divine Beasts…

But then his ears perked up, when she started talking about the events of 100 years ago… Though he did not remember exactly how or why, Link felt immense pangs of guilt and regret. So he failed his kingdom, and everybody who depended on him? Lovely.

His face probably reflected that as well, as Impa’s voice softened as she kept talking to him, even though her words were still stinging as she said ‘It did not end well for you last time.’.

He couldn’t focus on that at that moment, though he was willing to do what was necessary now for a reason he could not explain, he did not want to deal with this guilt and regret. His head was spinning with all this knowledge all at once, yet he wanted to know. Instead, he just nodded and acknowledged what she explained to him and tried to stir the subject once again, to him. 

“I won’t fail,” he said in the end, decidedly. After a little pause, he stared Impa right in the eyes, and asked once again.

“What happened to me, Impa?” his voice was almost trembling, a stark contrast to mere moments ago. Impa had a sad yet concerned glint in her eyes.

"I cannot provide you with a definitive explanation, Link, as it lies beyond my expertise. However, within our Sheikah traditions, there exist legends and folktales that speak of individuals in circumstances akin to yours,” she started. Link was annoyed, but did not protest for now.

"They speak of formidable, frigid beings dwelling in the deepest, darkest recesses of the earth. Their icy, fear-inducing gaze has the power to paralyze their prey. These are undead entities with an insatiable, eternal hunger."

Link was pondering the similarity between Impa's description and his own condition, though it wasn't an exact match. His confusion deepened.

"We continue to share these tales with children, warning them not to linger in the woods after nightfall, for fear that these creatures might emerge from the shadows and whisk them away. You see, they are said to abhor the sun's rays, as they scorch their very beings."

Link maintained his silence, observing as Impa raised the teacup that Paya had just delivered to her and took a sip.

"Indeed," Impa began, her gaze settling back on Link. "While you appear unaffected by the sun, undeniable parallels exist, wouldn't you agree, Link? You've barely shifted a millimeter since your arrival; one might easily mistake you for a statue. Your eyes remain unblinking, your complexion as pale as delicate porcelain. I assume you're well aware of the profound thirst you demonstrated when you first arrived, and we couldn't help but notice your… elongated canines, whenever you spoke," she pursed her lips. It wasn’t unfriendly, yet her concern has returned. She had more to tell, however.

He became hyper-aware of his own movements, or rather, the lack thereof. Tentatively, he allowed himself to blink a few times, though he still didn't dare to take a breath.

Impa's voice continued, recounting the shrine's discovery and its healing properties, thanks to the Slate on Link's hip and the Castle's research efforts. She mentioned the ancient texts that cautioned against using the shrine for fatal injuries, warning of the potential consequences on the person's memories, or outright failure. She explained how after the Calamity happened, there were suspicions that this shrine might have been affected as well. 

Link silently acknowledged that the shrine wasn't intended for those on the brink of death.

"But as for what you've become and how it happened," Impa added, "you'll need to journey to Hateno Village for answers, I'm afraid, Link. That's what I've been told. After you were taken to the shrine 100 years ago, I was charged with safeguarding this chest and leaving some of its contents in the chamber for you to discover."

Impa couldn’t bring herself to say exactly what was in them, and where they came from.

“And as for your memories… the Slate once again will be the key. Journey to the lab in the village of Hateno. They will know more about how and why this happened. Take the contents of the chest with you, and go.” 

Link nodded in understanding, his determination solidifying and his frustration increasing with every word Impa spoke. The weight of his forgotten past and the enigma of his present condition pressed upon him, but he knew he couldn't afford to falter.

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