Part 3

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   Kakariko Graveyard loomed dismally ahead. Even with his one eye, Shikashi could still read the monument at the entrance from where he stood.

   R.I.P. Here lie the souls of those who swore fealty to the Royal Family of Hyrule The Sheikah, guardians of the Royal Family and founders of Kakariko, watch over these spirits in their eternal slumber.

   Shikashi and Impa approached the monument. Dried flower petals lay scattered in front of it, with melted wax from candles situated on top of it. Beneath the inscription was a list of names, written small to accommodate the hundreds who had died bravely.

   "Can you believe it's already been twelve years?" Shikashi asked.

   Impa shook her head. "Twelve years since that wretched war. I'm shocked I lived through it."

   Her eyes drifted to the names on the monument. A resolute sadness was affixed to them, and her gaze was forlornly in the past.

   "Would've loved it if everyone here survived too," she said. "But thanks to their sacrifice, they helped to free this village and end the war."

   "Yes," Shikashi said. "They were true heroes. Their tales deserve to be sung."

   Impa nodded. "Absolutely. Their surviving family members and friends recently came together to document their lives. I intend to incorporate them into the history books so their sacrifice is never forgotten."

   "That's beautiful, Lady Impa," Shikashi said. "I'll be sure to buy a copy the moment they're released."

   "I commissioned an artisan to create another monument like this one recently, too," Impa continued. "It's to list the victims of the Hyrulean Army's abuses during their occupation here."

   Shikashi nodded solemnly. "Good. I'm glad. When is it to be unveiled?"

   "Next year," Impa said.

   "Well," Shikashi said, "that gives me reason to live another year, at least."

   "Don't say things like that," Impa said, furrowing her brow at him.

   "But-"

   "But nothing," Impa said.

   Shikashi paused at her words, then nodded. "I...see."

   Impa turned her head to the right. "Anyway, Dampé should be getting up for his graveyard shift soon. Let's go meet up with him."

   Shikashi chuckled. "Heh. Graveyard shift."

   Impa regarded him with confusion. "Huh...? Oh. Pun unintended."

   The two walked over to his hut in the corner of the graveyard. It was a small little place, barely enough for one person to live in. Yet somehow, Dampé made it work. No one thought to question how.

   They waited outside for a few moments longer, until the last ray of light darkened. Then, they heard movement inside the hut. Shikashi and Impa readied themselves as the door to the hut swung open.

   "Eh?"

   A short, hunchbacked and muscular man walked out from the hut, carrying a shovel that looked like it had recently been washed and polished. His eyelids were perpetually half closed. No one knew if it was voluntary or not.

   "Dampé," Impa addressed. "I've got urgent business with you."

   "Alright, shoot," Dampé said. "But can we talk while I make my rounds?"

   Impa nodded.

   Dampé walked past them, pressing on into the graveyard. Impa and Shikashi followed behind him along the dirt path, with the headstones of the deceased on either side of them. The dirt beneath them was soft and loose.

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