Felicia felt almost tempted to smile at Jira’s ridiculous eyebrow waggling. She felt that it may be a gateway to hysterical laughter, however, as the situation seemed to be growing more ludicrous by the second. What she assumed to be a father and his child had entered the graveyard and stood apart from her and the others. Most likely not involved with whatever was going on, she figured. She was just thinking them lucky before the child threw something at the ground and Cain’s shadow appeared before them, speaking loudly of destiny and whispers in the night. Her heart froze. 

[i]Destiny? Whispers?[/i] Her mind repeated the words just as the lumbering blacksmith said them aloud. Could this really be…?

"I know about the voice because I heard it too, as my friend did. In fact, everyone standing near the graveyard's center heard it. We've been summoned here for a special purpose by a fairy called Lethe," Cain explained.

“A fairy,” Felicia breathed inaudibly, furrowing her brow. Was that who Cain had been talking about-- the owner of the voice in her head? The voice that had replaced her nightmares and spoke to her even when she would lay awake in bed?

"Have we rounded everybody up yet for the angry fairy? Didn't want to keep wandering around if we had," a voice called from the graveyard's entrance. Felicia turned her head to see a young girl standing before the gate. From her clothes, she appeared to be a Shiekah, but her features suggested Gerudo. The trait that most held her attention, however, was that she looked to be no older than 10. Perhaps she’d gotten caught up in a game? Or some silly childish prank? Or maybe this was a sort of service project and this had been their funny way of advertising and gathering volunteers? 

She thought of the Hero of Time and how the legends said he’d began his quest when he was merely 10. She didn’t want to think whatever she was here for could be dangerous. Who would willfully involve children in such a thing?

[i]Go to the Hero of Time Festival. The fate of all life in Hyrule depends on it.[/i]

That’s what the voice had said. A humanitarian project. Please, somebody tell her this was just a humanitarian project. Or a charity event, maybe. Were they going to sew winter clothes for orphans? Or serve soup to the homeless? Somehow, looking between the heavily armored man and almost equally huge blacksmith-- she didn't think so.... 

"He who dares wins after all,” she heard the blacksmith say as three more entered the graveyard behind the child, who was now talking to the blacksmith’s little one. Two of the new comers were obviously shiekah, but what were they doing here? The unsettling feeling in her stomach lurched. Although logic screamed within her skull, begging her to leave-- she felt inexplicably compelled to stay. The strength of her conviction scared her. Was this the power of mortal curiosity or was something else at work here? Being one who was often berated for being a superstitious worry wart, she decided to give it all the benefit of the doubt. 

She wanted to tell herself not to panic, but given the circumstances she couldn’t come up with a more appropriate response. As the dread inside her festered, she scratched her shoulder and took a deep breath. “Is it really true that we’ve all been hearing the same voice? The voice that told me to come here? That[i] all life in Hyrule depended on it?”[/i]