[ She knows that spirit well, the form something she cobbled together herself in another time, another life. As Zelda stands, away from Fi, she knows one thing: The Master Sword may slumber forever now, but her dreams will always be vividly that of giving aid to her Master, her Mistress, and those held dearly by them. It's what she molded Fi to be.

Zelda adjusts in her white gown, looking small and not very divine at all. ]

You've awoken at the right time. [ Just like you were made to. ] I'm well, but the city is not. An help signal came through on the journals, but we lost it quickly. Can you dowse the location of people under snow for me?

[ Hopefully, they aren't too late. ]