They did not stop running until the shouts and the smell of smoke from the bridge had faded far behind them. They finally collapsed in a grove of trees a mile into the lands of Lanayru, their lungs burning, their bodies screaming in protest. They had made it. They were across the river. But they were now marked men, fugitives from the very authority they were trying to serve.
Link sat with his back against a tree, the adrenaline of the battle leaving him feeling hollow and shaky. He looked at his hands. They were steady. He had fought trained Hylian soldiers. He had held a captain of the Royal Guard at swordpoint. The boy who had been terrified of the sword his father made was gone forever, replaced by someone he did not yet recognize.
Elwin, his face grim, was inspecting the contents of their satchel, which had been tossed about during the fight. He looked over at Link, his eyes full of a deep, sorrowful understanding.
"Don't you carry that burden, son," the postman said softly, his voice a gentle rumble. "Those men… they may have worn the King's colors, but they did not have the King's heart. They were traitors. What you did back there… that was justice. You fought for the true Hyrule today. Don't ever forget that."
Link looked at his friend. Elwin's words were a balm on the raw, confusing wound in his soul. He gave a small, grateful nod.
"But our path has changed," Elwin continued, pulling out his map. "The main roads are no longer safe for us. The captain will have sent riders to every garrison between here and the capital with our descriptions. We are outlaws now." He pointed to a thin, faint line on the map that branched off from the main road. "We cannot go straight to the heart of Lanayru. We have to disappear. There is an old path, a forgotten one. It follows the Zora River upstream, through the Great Fishback Forest. It is said the woods are always shrouded in mist, a place where it is easy to lose one's way."
He looked at Link, a wry smile touching his lips. "But I imagine a boy who was raised by the Faron Woods will not be troubled by a little mist. It will be a hard journey. But it will keep us hidden."
Their course was set. They could not turn back. They could only go forward, deeper into the unknown.
They rested for an hour, just long enough to catch their breath and clean their wounds. Then, they left the main road behind for good, turning north and following a small tributary that would eventually lead them to the great Zora River. As they walked, the landscape began to change. The open, windy plains gave way to a dense, damp forest. The trees here were different—tall, slender, and pale, with leaves that shimmered with an almost silver light. And with the trees came the mist.
It rolled in silently, a thick, white blanket that clung to the ground and wrapped itself around the tree trunks. The air grew cool and damp, and the world shrank to a small, isolated circle around them. Sounds were muffled, and the path became indistinct, a mere suggestion on the forest floor.
To Elwin, the mist was disorienting, a near-impenetrable wall. But to Link, it was a comfort. It felt like a cloak, a secret. It reminded him of the fog in his own woods, but this mist was not tainted with shadow. It was clean, pure, and ancient. The Sheikah token in his pouch, which had been silent since the fight, began to emit a soft, steady hum, a gentle pulse of reassurance. This was the right way.
The second great arc of their journey had begun. They had crossed the river that divided the kingdom, and in doing so, had crossed a point of no return. They were no longer just messengers; they were fugitives, hunted by a corrupt law and a shadowy enemy. Their only path now lay forward, through the mists of an ancient forest, toward a hidden sanctuary they could only hope to find. Link looked into the swirling white veil ahead, his enchanted shield on his back, his father's steel at his side, and Elwin, his steadfast friend, limping along beside him. He did not know what lay ahead, but he walked into the mist without fear.