The Grove of Sages was a place of impossible, profound peace. As the small fellowship stepped into the vast, circular clearing, the wary, sorrowful atmosphere of the outer woods fell away, replaced by a feeling of deep, abiding life. The air was warm and hummed with a gentle, silent music. Here, in the heart of the forest, the Great Deku Tree stood, a living mountain of bark and leaf, his colossal form a testament to the enduring power of the natural world. A soft, golden light emanated from within his ancient, gnarled trunk, and hundreds of small, curious Koroks were gathered at his roots, their leafy masks tilted up in silent reverence.
Paya, Ilia, and Link approached, the cart carrying the unconscious hero coming to a stop before the ancient being. The sheer scale of him was humbling, his presence a force that was older than any kingdom, any legend they knew.
A voice, ancient and slow, like the grinding of tectonic plates and the rustle of a million leaves at once, bloomed not in their ears, but in the quiet spaces of their minds.
I have watched you, Guardian of the Sheikah. You carry the weight of a sleeping sword and a broken hero. Your devotion does not waver.
The Tree's immense, unseen gaze seemed to turn to Ilia.
I have felt your song, Shepherdess of Ordon. Grief has not silenced your heart's kindness. It is a rare and gentle light in this growing darkness.
Finally, his ancient consciousness settled upon Link, a feeling of immense, sorrowful empathy that seemed to physically touch the sleeping boy.
And I have seen the storm within the silent hero. The wound that no sacred water can heal.
Paya stepped forward, her warrior's pride giving way to the humility of a supplicant. She bowed her head. "Ancient One," she projected her thoughts, her voice a clear, sharp point in the vast silence. "We come seeking your wisdom. The boy's body has been mended by the Faron Spring, but he does not wake. The Blade of Evil's Bane, which he was found worthy to draw, has fallen into a deep sleep and will not answer him." She looked up, her red eyes filled with a desperate confusion. "We do not understand why. We were told you are the First Elder. We seek your blessing, and your guidance."
The Great Deku Tree was silent for a long, contemplative moment.
The Spring can mend the body and cleanse the blade. But the sword is not merely steel, and the boy is not merely flesh. They are two halves of a single spirit. The blade sleeps because its master's soul is lost in a wilderness of his own making.
His focus shifted, and his next words were a gentle but absolute command. Your paths from here must diverge.
Paya and Ilia exchanged a worried look.
The way to the Spring must be prepared for the hero's arrival, the Tree explained. Its waters have slept for an age, and they must be awakened by a pure heart and a steady hand. You two, the guardian and the shepherdess, must go on ahead. Follow the stream that flows from my roots. It will lead you to the other two Elders: the River Serpent and the Great Owl. Earn their blessing, and they will help you prepare the sacred waters.
"We will not leave him," Paya stated, her protective instinct flaring. "He is helpless. He cannot be left alone."
Alone, he is not, the Tree's voice boomed softly, an irresistible authority in its tone. And helpless, he will not be for long. His path for this next step is his own. A lesson he must learn without you. Go. Trust in the wisdom of the forest.
Paya looked at Ilia, then at Link. Her every instinct screamed at her to stay, to guard him. But she had been trained to recognize and obey a power greater than her own. With a final, worried look at Link, she and Ilia gave a solemn bow. They turned and followed a small, glowing stream that began to flow from the base of the Great Deku Tree, its path leading them away into the twilight of the woods.
Now, Link lay alone before the Lord of the Wood.
We are alone now, child of two worlds, the Tree's thought came, softer now, more intimate. Let us speak of the storm within you.
The Tree's consciousness gently touched Link's sleeping mind, not with a vision, but with a feeling of profound understanding.
Grief is the scar left behind by love. It is a mark of the hero's heart, a testament to what he fights to protect. It will become a part of your strength. But the hatred you feel for the one who caused your pain... that is different. Hatred is a poison, a seed of the shadow planted in the fertile ground of your sorrow. If you allow it to take root, if you water it with your grief, you will grow a dark and tangled forest in your own heart. A forest where the Master Sword's light can never shine.
Even in his deep sleep, Link's spirit seemed to recoil, to clench with a silent, defiant disagreement. His hatred felt pure. It felt justified.
You cannot accept this truth yet, the Tree continued with infinite patience. The wound is too fresh. But the world does not wait for our wounds to heal.
A new, powerful urgency entered the Tree's thoughts. The tides of shadow are rising faster than my deepest roots could have foreseen. The path of your own healing must be changed. There is no more time for you to rest.
A new image filled Link's mind: the serene, otherworldly plain of twin suns, and the calm, wise face of the robed man.
The being who spoke to the mountain... you have felt his presence before, in the dreams of others. It is time for you to meet him in the waking world. He can teach you what I cannot: how to find the path through the wilderness of your own heart.
The Great Deku Tree's final command was absolute, a sacred duty laid upon the sleeping hero.
The shadow prepares to strike the people of the sand. A great tragedy looms, and your path will lead you there, in time. But before you can face that storm, you must be made whole. The girls prepare the Spring for your body. You must now prepare your soul. The sage waits for you.