Chapter Text
The house in Hateno had stood for over a hundred years, and from its place on the side of Ebon mountain had seen the Kingdom of Hyrule approach its fall and climb steadily back up again. Ruins gave way to grasslands, which in turn gave way to farmlands again, none as prosperous as the city the small house was built in. It had been saved from desolation long ago when the encroaching army had been stopped in its tracks in a bottleneck battle at Fort Hateno. Their victory, it was told, had been single-handedly won by the former princess of the realm.
But no one came back to claim the house in Hateno, and eventually it became clear that no one ever would. It used to belong to a knight, the villagers said. Though he had not lived there in quite some time, and the house was already in a state of disrepair well before he was pronounced as a casualty in battle. Still, it stood, as the villagers were unwilling to tear down the home of a soldier who had lost his life to the Great Calamity.
One day, a young adventurer found his way to the house. Found his way back, he realized, after a very long, long time.
Its walls were rotted and decrepit and its roof had long since caved in and left its floors open to the elements, but its foundations were solid. With care and time and materials the house in Hateno was rebuilt. There was furniture to fill it, wall mounts to display weaponry, and an upper alcove with a bed to sleep in.
But the house in Hateno was no home, and no amount of fixing would make it so. Not with the ghosts that haunted it, ghosts that were reflected in the young adventurer’s eyes. The house would have to be content with being a waystation—a rest stop for the young adventurer and nothing more. A place to sleep when he was passing through, though never too often. The house stood empty for weeks at a time.
Until the young adventurer brought with him a companion. She was a frail, waif-like thing, battle worn and war weary. The house in Hateno stood still and resolute as the adventurer led the girl inside, and she stepped with dirty, bare feet onto its smooth wooden floors. Too dusty to be welcoming, too small to be a comfort, but a respite nonetheless. The adventurer and the girl slept off their wounds, safely tucked away between four strong walls.
But the house in Hateno was no home.
The girl tried. For weeks, she tried. But she could not escape her ghosts. There was a heaviness in her limbs, as if gravity affected her more than it did everyone else. Like she used to have wings, but they’d since been clipped. She stared with dull eyes at the dusty rafters above her and came to a decision.
The house in Hateno gave no creak of protest as the girl slipped quietly through its doors in the early hours of the morning before the sun rose. It let its hinges swing silently, floorboards unbending, and kept her secret from the young adventurer who slept soundly within.