I almost couldn't believe it, though the sight before me was as plain as the currently setting sun. We had arrived, and not just anywhere mind you. We had arrived at the location that marked the end of my journey so long ago. Hyrule fields, the place where I had thought my companion slain, where I had felt all encompassing rage for the first time. I saved the kingdom, yes, but as I plunged the sword of evil's bane into my enemy I thought not about the world or the greater conflict. In that moment all other motivations were trivial compared to the revenge I had sought. It felt good. I cannot deny that. My mind simply cannot conjure the words to perfectly describe the intoxicating and sublime feeling of vengeance sated. Nor the internal horror and disgust that welled up within me as realization dawned within my mind. In all the battles I had faced up until that point, never had I felt such gut wrenching pleasure in the act of cutting down my foe. Even now despite it just being memories of a time long since passed, merely thinking back on that moment brings with it a taste of that dark pleasure. A shiver ran up my spine as I closed my eyes in a vain attempt to quell the feeling.

Thankfully a noise caught my attention and offered up a much needed distraction. It was the sound of a heavy pack being dropped to the ground. Odd, he hadn't been carrying one whilst we had been traveling together. Where had he hidden it, and what sort of supplies does such an enigmatic and mysterious individual even need? Was he more akin to a ghost, did he even need to eat and drink? His dress, although somewhat suitable for the weather, wasn't something I'd wish to wander the country side in. Curiosity peaked in me, so naturally I looked. And just in time too, for as soon as I turned my head to look I caught sight of him yanking the cord to a large, overstuffed pack. The bag burst into an all obscuring cloud of thick white smoke. When the dust had finally settled and I could have a decent look at what he had released, I was shocked. I think that I'm am quite used to magic and strange happenings at this point... But it's as if this man is the embodiment of all the strangest parts of magic all in one equally odd package. What stood before me now was the colorful and eye-catching façade to a market side shop. A tall, pale facsimile of a face dominating the design, complete with gaudy blushing makeup and an exaggerated expression. It was then I realized that it wasn't a face at all, not really, it was in fact a mask. A shop specifically for masks. Was that his profession? Some kind of mask trader? Who would operate such a storefront? During a festival or a holiday event maybe, but year round as your main trade? Does he really have nothing better to do with his time than to waste it away with such childish trinkets?

"Childish trinkets. That's rich coming from the one who has yet to remove the crown from upon his brow." His words cut with the ice cold efficiency of a freshly honed razor. In my embarrassment I reached up and tore the fused shadow from my head. I had forgotten his uncanny ability to read my very thoughts and I had been punished for it. In my idle shifting trying to figure out what to do or say I realized that the stone within my hands felt... Lighter. Was that how I was able to simply forget it's presence? Come to think of it when it's previous owner had worn it they seemed none too worried about its perceived weight. Their head didn't wobble awkwardly, they didn't have to readjust it often, nor had it seemed that uncomfortable. Was it the same for me as well? It had simply been on my head. Like any other piece of clothing that fit properly, one's mind simply forgets that it's there after a while. Embarrassment having passed, I slowly placed the object back in its original place, upon my brow.

"My apologies, I should strive-"

"Honestly this back and forth is growing tiresome. First I cause your anger to flare by bringing old wounds to the surface, then its your turn and you insult my passion and trade. This is getting a bit silly at this point. How about we put this all behind us with a nice cup of tea in the warmth of a comfortably lit fireplace, hmm? The sun is setting anyway and unless you are completely against taking advantage of a good night's rest I suggest we head in." He was right of course, this was quite silly. Besides we had much more important things to focus on in the coming days. With a nod I followed the man into his... Well for the lack of a better word, his home.

The inside of the building was a bit disappointing in how normal it all was. Every staple of a merchant's shop was accounted for; a counter to stand behind and lean on, the shelves covered in their wares for easy viewing and themed décor to help tie the store into their specialty. I suppose I should have expected as much, still, the merchandise is quite interesting now that I'm seeing it up close. There were masks of all shapes and sizes, depicting all sorts of emotion and all sorts of creatures. There was the face of a man with a red brimmed hat and a mustachioed face, a strange beaked creature, a mask that appeared like the bandaged gibdo, a misshapen yet wholly unassuming stone, a massive and inquisitive eye, a mask that looked like it was twisted in agony and rage. But the most impressive part of the collection was of course the centerpiece. Said piece was within a thick walled display case made of what appeared to be high quality lead glass. It was a large, impressively carved, heart shaped, purple and red mask rimmed with spikes. The most striking feature were it's large eyes, bright pits of green surrounded by burning fields of orange and yellow. Something in me instinctively wanted to recoil as I examined it at length. Despite all of the creepy and ugly masks on display this example felt like it was the only one that had an aura of inherent threat.

"Ah, I see you've taken a liking to the centerpiece of my grand collection, and my most prized possession. Your predecessor, the Hero of Time, actually helped to return that mask to me after it had been stolen away by some pesky imp. Although in doing so, its latent magic had been drained from it... For a time. But I of course did what I do best; repair, restore and revitalize masks to their former glory. It is my profession after all. This one however, is too valuable, too... Precious to merely sell. No, this one I will not part with, no matter the price. For you see, this mask is alive. Not in the mundane sense of the word, where an object is so life like it seems to possess that vital aspect. No this mask is alive. It houses a living spirit, one whom had been assumed to be a dark and evil force. But as I spent time repairing and restoring this precious artifact, I discovered something. I discovered that this mask wasn't evil. It was a akin to a child; abandoned by those who created it, manipulated and used by those seeking to benefit off of it and when discovered to have grown up without proper guidance or discipline, was simply locked away. After all who has the time or the patience to truly understand what this poor thing had gone through. For isn't that the way of the world? When something seems even remotely dangerous simply lock it away and forget about it. Why else are there so many ancient dungeons and temples, holding powerful artifacts and dark secrets?" He stated all of that so matter-of-factly that I could feel my jaw hang.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

His words set me on edge, though the rational part of my mind found his arguments to be sound. The number of ancient places which were created for the sole purpose of hiding ancient treasures or great evils is simply innumerable. The number that I've personally explored easily numbers in the dozens, let alone the countless hundreds that my entire lineage of reincarnations have explored over the centuries. Despite his argument however I was still unsettled at the thought of something that had been sealed away being allowed to remain free so casually. There were simply too many questions rolling through my mind. Who had made it and for what purpose? How powerful was this spirit and why were people trying to exploit it? Why was this man so willing to advocate for it's freedom despite its track record for evil acts?

"Because the only time anything is considered pure evil, the goddesses are involved somehow. Purest of good, purest of evil. It's funny how those only really come up when it's some ancient prophecy. Who actually can be called truly evil? Ganon? A man and creature so inexplicably bound by the whim's fate and the divine plan set forth by the goddesses? Don't make me laugh, the only reason they return every few hundred years instead of having been wiped clean from the world is because the goddesses lack the ability to do so. They are flawed, ineffective fools who-" His face, which had been so scrunched and twisted in a heated anger, froze. His eyes blinked and suddenly held a look as if his mask had slipped for just a fraction too long. Things were beginning to connect for me and by the look on his face as he looked me in the eye, I was right. Or at least not too far off.

"You wish to enter the twilight realm, you knew my ancestor who lived hundreds of years ago, you know quite potent and forgotten magics, you have an obsession with masks, you clearly dislike the goddesses for some as of yet unrevealed slight... You were one of the Dark Interlopers... And that mask is a relic from before they were banished." My words were like sewing needles being pressed into his skin, he flinched and grimaced again and again. Now incapable at meeting my gaze, my suspicions were confirmed wholly. But that still left me with even more questions that I wanted answers to. Like-

"Answers are earned not simply doled out for free! I refuse to speak any more on the matter until you begin to deliver on your end of the bargain! One answer per objective completed. You can either take it or leave it!" I didn't like potentially crucial information being withheld from me but I had already agreed to help him. Going back on my word was out of the question, because without my word what even am I? Still, I suppose it could be worse. With that the conversation was dropped and he went about preparing us some tea. With nothing for myself to do besides wait I decided to strip off my heavy outermost layers and get comfortable. Of course things didn't go according to even that simple plan as a doleful shriek ripped throughout the small building. Bounding across the room and shouldering open the door to the more livable space within the structure I came upon a very confusing but ultimately anticlimactic scene. There stood the most confounding man I had ever met, a being who seemed in all ways preternatural and otherworldly in his abilities and mannerisms, rendered completely helpless by the most mundane of troubles. He was boiling the water for the tea as of this moment, but judging by the empty bottles with cow's heads printed on the labels that were strewn about the place... he was completely out of milk.

The whiplash produced by the scene before me was unlike anything I had ever experienced in my entire life. It was abjectly absurd and completely dissonant with everything I had come to expect from this person. For the first time in years my face broke into a painfully broad smile, and I laughed. Not some reserved chuckle but an uproarious and boisterous belting of laughter. So thorough was my amusement that my sides had began to ache due to the force. Even when his hands gripped onto my shoulders and began to shake me, his pleas and distress only served to heighten my amusement. Was this the moment I had feared would come for so long now, had I finally broken down and become stark stirring mad? Or had that moment come long ago, but had been subtle enough to convince myself that I was still sane and whole? It mattered not I suppose, for when I finally calmed down and wiped the tears from my eyes I had made up my mind.

"By the Goddesses you are a damned disaster. Powerful beyond mortal comprehension and yet rendered completely infirm by the most minor of inconveniences. Stay here Orin, I'll get your damned milk." Without another word I simply shook my head, turned on my heel, and left into that cold, snowy night. It looks like I'm back to performing eclectic tasks for the odd residents of Hyrule once more. But altruism wasn't my only motivator in all of this, I fully planned to milk this opportunity for more information on his past.