When Latu turned seven, Mama Jaliro took her past the valley.

"You have ten rupees to spend," Mama Jaliro said. "Get the best deal you can from the traders. And most important of all?"

"Keep them distracted," Latu said.

"Good."

Latu had been practicing hard for this. Her talent was being cute. Watch out for that Latu, everyone always said. You can't ask that face to give back your stuff.

She always gave back the things that were from people she liked. It was just practice when it was her friends, anyway.

Her mothers said she'd be a great thief someday, if only she'd stop giving back what she stole.

Mama Jaliro smudged her with dirt as they got near the traders.

"Look at my poor, dirty Latu," she said. "She must be lost and hungry. If the traders have any heart, they'll feed her."

"I hope it's beef stew."

Mama Jaliro laughed.

"There's my girl."

She squeezed Latu on the shoulder before leaving her there, alone.

Her first REAL thievery. Latu went on toward the traders.

They were pale-skinned and dressed in weird clothes. Who knew how far they'd come from? Maybe they had some interesting stuff with them. They had horses, but not as good as the ones Latu's tribe had. Why would they steal anything but the best?

One of the traders had a bag that clinked. Probably jewelry, or at least money. That's where Mama Jaliro would be going. She should distract that one.

Latu walked straight into the traders' camp.

"It's a Gerudo thief!" somebody shouted. They all looked up and held their stuff closer.

"Aw, relax," somebody else said. "It's just a kid."

"I'm not just a kid," Latu said. "I'm seven."

The traders laughed. Latu got closer to the woman with the sack of treasure, but something made her stop.

There was a different woman at the camp, with hair on her face. It was so beautiful, Latu pretty much forgot why she was there.

She turned to that woman instead.

"How did you get hair on your face?"

The woman laughed. Her voice was so deep.

"It's called a beard, kid. It grows by itself."

"It's so pretty. How come no one else has one?"

"Because only men grow beards."

"What's men?"

She probably should have been working on some sort of trade, but as long as she was distracting them, who really cared? She could keep it up forever, she was cute that way.

"Uh," the trader said. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this to you, kid. Men are just… different from women, is all."

"You mean you're not a woman? Isn't everybody a woman?"

Some of the traders laughed. Latu didn't know why.

"Only where you come from," said the trader with the hair.

There were a lot of grown-ups at the fortress, but not many kids besides Latu. Maybe being a men was like being a grown-up instead of a kid.

"How did you turn into a men?" Latu asked.

"The word is 'man' when it's just one," said the trader. "And I didn't turn into a man, I was born as one."

"Well, that's not fair," Latu said. "What if I want to be a man?"

"Sorry," shrugged the trader, who was a MAN. "That's just how it is."

"But I want pretty hair on my face like that."

Another trader chuckled.

"What a cute little girl."

Latu heard the soft click that meant it was time to go. But she had so many more questions.

"Are there a lot of men where you're from?" she asked.

"As many men as women," said the man with the hair.

As many men as women! That was a BUNCH of men!

"Do all the men have weird voices like yours?"

The traders laughed again.

"She called you OUT, Tarko!"

"Uh…" said the man-person. "It's a normal man voice."

The click came again, a little louder. Mama Jaliro wouldn't be happy that she had to do it twice, but Latu could just cute her way out of that, too.

"Well, I like your weird voice," Latu said. "It's pretty. I guess I'm gonna go home now. Maybe Mama Jaliro will make me some face-hair out of a horse's tail."

The man-person waved goodbye.

"You have fun, kid."

"Oh, I will!"

Men-people. How cool was THAT?

Pidge knew all the fairies by name. They were her friends.

But none of them were HERS.

She hadn't always wondered why. It was just how it was.

But now she was starting to. She was starting to wonder more and more every day.

"Why don't I have a fairy like everybody else?" she asked Bandor.

"You're special," Bandor said. "You don't need a fairy."

"But I WANT a fairy. Everybody is best friends with their fairy."

"I know," he said. "But you know the Great Deku Tree wouldn't do it for no reason."

"So what's the reason?"

"Uh…" Bandor looked away from her, "I don't know." And then he looked back. "But maybe you'll get one someday. I trust whatever the Great Deku Tree wants. Don't you?"

Pidge folded her arms.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I LIKE it."

Bandor laughed.

"Well, maybe not."

Bandor's fairy glowed a soft pink. Pidge liked her, she was curious and visited her a lot. Her name was Romelle.

"Romelle," Pidge said, "are there fairies that only show up at night?"

There are many kinds of fairies, Romelle said. I've never heard of that kind, though.

"Why are you asking?" Bandor said.

"Because sometimes I see something at night," Pidge said. "Like a light near the corner of my eye, but it goes away when I try to look at it."

"Hmm," Bandor said. "Maybe you have a special kind of fairy, then."

"I hope so," Pidge said. "I want to learn her name."

Keith saw things that nobody else did. They didn't see the spiders. They didn't see the ghosts.

They called him "the boy with the strange eyes."

It's a special gift from your mother, his dad used to say. Be patient with the people who can't see like you.

He'd been a lot more patient when his dad was alive.

Sometimes people fed him now. Sometimes he had to steal.

They never wanted to hear about ghosts.

But there were ghosts all across Hyrule, ghosts with their fires and lanterns, all angry about something, all hurting.

And Keith stayed lonely, just him and the ghosts.