[ Zelda sits as directed while Darin pulls up the other chair. The chairs, like the table and the rest of the furniture, are sturdy and well crafted, but worn with age-- all items purchased by a woman with limited funds at her disposal. The nicest things in the apartment are the ones she sewed herself, such as the tablecloth and a throw blanket covering the ugly upholstery of the cushioned chair by the window. Her apartment lacks much of the coziness of the home in Hateno she shared with Link, but it's a start.

She nods as she lifts her right arm for him. The cloth bandage wrapped neatly around her arm from wrist to elbow is still nice and clean, proof that Zelda is being careful not to use this arm very much. ]

I was, yes. [ And he said he was as well, something she'll want to ask him about too. ] The spirit took the form of my father and on the first night it visited me, I thought it was truly him. It looked and sounded just like him... it even had his memories. Even after I realized it was draining my essence, I couldn't bring myself to drive it away.

On the second night that it visited me, a man I met on Naughtilust approached us outside. He saw how the ghost was draining me and intervened to protect me. He did... something, I don't know what, but he forced the ghost to transform and it attacked us. I tried to stay out of the way, but there was another spirit near by, the one that had been haunting him, and it caught me.

[ She leaves her story hanging there as she watches Darin handle her arm. It doesn't feel necessary to trouble him with the rest... ]