Link came into the cave. It was just early morning and he'd found something special for breakfast: a devilfish. Zelda only tasted it once, but once was all it took to make it her favorite dish. The meat of the devilfish, or octopus, was sweet, chewy and salty. Of course, everything that came from the sea was salty.
"Zel, wake up, love," Link said softly.
"Hmm. Good morning, hero. Impa, sweetness, time to wake up," Zelda yawned widely as she roused herself and her two-year-old daughter. For four years they had lived on the Island, roughly 200 miles from Termina. Zelda had always blamed herself for their misfortune, as it was her who said they should leave the boat unfettered. But she got over her self-loathing days after the accident. She needed her wits about her, and at that point, getting established was the most important thing. Grief was a luxury they could not afford. "I think I'm going swimming this morning. My hair is greasy and Impa had dirt all over her."
"We always have dirt on us, Zelda. In case you haven't noticed, we are living in dirt," Link said jokingly.
"Mamma says you no funny," babbled Impa.
"Oh really? Well did you tell mamma what I think of her?"
"Yes, and I didn't appreciate you teaching our daughter that sort of language."
"Oh, come now Zel. Bitch isn't that bad of a word."
"That's not the word I was talking about. What I meant was, 'kyelv'. You know that I hate slang."
"So sorry, your Highness. Shall I prepare your bath for you?" Link gave an overly florid bow as he escorted his love and child to the spring at the end of the ravine. Zelda slept naked, and only wore clothes out of the cave. Other than that, modesty was non-existent.
Impa jumped into the chilly spring and dunked herself. In such a rough environment, she learned how to speak quite well in so short a time, and with water all around, Impa knew how to swim before she could walk. She was a mildly happy little girl, always with one parent gathering or making something out of mud. Zelda claimed she looked like Link, and he claimed that she was the spitting image of her mother. But with no mirrors, Zelda could not compare herself to her daughter very accurately.
Zelda thought back to her younger days in the castle. It all seemed so long ago. She began to wonder if it were all some odd dream. Thoughts of the cut stone manor were almost alien on the Island. The only thing that kept her from forgetting completely was a pendant she wore always. Impa, her guardian, gave her a gold medallion, two inches in diameter, with the Triforce engraved on its surface, and her birthday on the other side. Link gave something similar to their daughter, but it was carved out of a whale tooth. Link had been careful to count the days as they passed. Every night after the sun set, he would make another mark upon the date wall. He tried using a stick with notches, but the notches soon proved too many to count. So Link switched to a wall. By notching a stick and then hanging it at the end of the month under the according month on the wall, he could keep track flawlessly. Each month had four sticks under it now, and three had five. It was the third month of their fifth year. After winter, it would be five.
Link went back into the cave, leaving Zelda and Impa to their bathing.
"Mamma, look what I can do!" said Impa as she did a handstand in the water.
"That's nice, now come here, you've got more food on your face than I've eaten in my life."
"Have you and pappa always lived here?"
"No, we came her about four years ago."
"Why?"
"It wasn't exactly planned. It just sort of happened." said Zelda, trying to evade talking about their accident.
"Like me?"
"Yes, dear, exactly like you."
Impa had been working her way up to her next question. "Are we the only ones?"
"What?" it wasn't a question Zelda expected.
"Are we the only ones like us?"
"I don't understand what you're asking me."
"Are there other...people? Or are we the only ones?"
Zelda bit her lip. She had dreaded the day when Impa would make the connection. Link had been the one who wanted to explain. But Impa was asking her. "Sweety, I want you to know something. Your papa and I came here four years ago. Before that, I lived in a big house, made of white stone. Link lived in a forest, a place with lots of trees. He convinced me to go on a trip, a journey with him to see a meteor shower. That's when lots of stars fall and make pretty lights in the sky. But we never got to the island where we would see them perfectly. Instead, we arrived on this Island. We had a big boat, but it drifted away. We were stuck here. But no, we are not the only people. Across the ocean, there is a land, a big island, with so many people that you almost want to get away from. And to the east of that land, there is another big island. That is where papa and I came from. It's called Hyrule. And I used to be the Princess, the daughter of the King. The king rules over everyone on that island. I was going to rule that island someday. But now we're hundreds of miles away. We'll probably never get back there."
"That's a good story, Mamma. I wish I were a princess. But you no have to make up stuff. I knew we are only ones. No other people like us. But you make good stories."
"Yes, dear, I do. Now go play, you're clean." Zelda felt the anger welling up inside her as Impa ran down the ravine to the cave. Impa was a princess, and had called her mother a liar. Then the anger was replaced with sadness. Her recount of the past had broken the seal upon the bottled grief she felt so long ago. Why had Impa asked that? Why not sex? It would have been easier. Zelda finally cried. She cried with self-pity, with regret. She cried for her father, who probably was deeply saddened by her absence. She cried for Impa, who would never know the rewards of civilization, and for her old guardian who was also hurt. Why her? Why here? For what purpose did this serve? So she could rid herself of the stuffy stubbornness of her princessy self? Is that why the Goddesses sent them here? So she would learn a lesson? O cruel Goddesses, why?
Link decided to bathe too, or perhaps do something more. But he found Zelda sobbing on the side of the spring, muttering something about her terrible situation. "Zel, what's the matter?"
"Oh, my hero, Impa asked me..." she paused as a shuddering sighing sob wracked her body. "...if we were the only ones! Link, why me? Why here? Why us?"
Link could think of nothing to say, but held his dear love close. Yes, why them? He could fathom no answer to Zelda's question, and only held her closer.