#calamity's writing

[calamity-unlocked]

It was June, 2002, the day before the FIFA World Cup final, and Nicholas Foster didn’t have any friends.

For Narkmas by @alien-bluez

Day 3: Smoke

[cheercake]

screeeeewwww it... amphibia x MD. its MY autism and I get to choose the AU!!!!

[utilitycaster]

I think the two most obvious foils for Ludinus Da'leth across all of Critical Role are Essek and Keyleth, which is both fascinating given how different those two characters are from each other (Essek being a foil in terms of isolation, single-mindedness, harm in the name of ambition, knowledge, and other such wizard themes; Keyleth being a foil in terms of people who have lost something at a young age to the gods and bear resentment for it, political leadership, belief that the world belongs to mortalkind, and longevity) but also it's extremely funny that they both are the partners of Liam's character.

[perfectquote]

I figure, if a girl wants to be a legend, she should go ahead and be one.

Calamity Jane

[st-hedge]

A quick malice boy to celebrate the end of the calamity au fic 🥂

[quotefeeling]

I figure, if a girl wants to be a legend, she should go ahead and be one.

Calamity Jane

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 11: seeing double

Totally not what this prompt meant, but I don’t care lol. I do care that I keep making Wild cry though, sorry buddy 😬

No clue if anyone cares anymore, but this has some brief age of calamity spoilers in it. Just a heads up.

Warnings: broken bone, discussed past character death

Ao3 link

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Wild had two thoughts as he went plunging through the portal, the others’ frantic cries in his ears:

One, that hopefully Legend wouldn’t give him too smug of an ‘I told you so’ the next time he saw him, since Wild had entirely forgone his advice to stay away from Dark Link and was now plunging rapidly through the air. And two, well, at least I’m going to fall into the water down there.

Which he promptly did with an explosive splash.

It wasn’t so high up that he was badly hurt, but Wild was still thrown for a loop, and found himself crashing down a river with little sense of which way was up.

Water got in his mouth and he spluttered, trying to spit it out and also get his head above the surface so he could breathe. The current was fast here though, and Wild couldn’t do much except flail around like a drunk Zora.

Wait, could Zora get drunk?

He actually had no clue.

The current got suddenly faster, and Wild breathed in some water as he got smacked against the rocks, coughing and hacking as he struggled to get any air. He managed a wet gasp when his head briefly poked up, but then he was pulled under again.

Air wasn’t the only thing Wild had gotten when he went up though— he’d also gotten a sight of the river up ahead. And at the sight of the waterfall rapidly approaching, his struggles grew even more frantic.

I need to reach shore, he thought as he continued to cough and claw his way to the river’s edge in a panic. I need to reach shore now, I need air I need—

The angle of the water shifted, and Wild was shot out of the waterfall, the rapid change in direction making his head spin.

He found himself in open air, water still in his lungs, and he clumsily grabbed for his paraglider as the lake below rapidly approached. Wild managed to snap it open just in time, but he didn’t manage a good grip on the handle.

His arm slipped, and Wild slammed into the sand near the shore, a choked yell escaping him as pain blazed up his shoulder.

All he could do was cough up water for a minute and catch his breath, trying not to wrench his shoulder more. Something was broken in there; he wasn’t sure if it was his shoulder itself or his arm or collarbone, but it hurt. He could barely move without his whole arm lighting up in agony, and hoped blearily that none of the others had suffered the same fate as him.

Then he heard a splash behind him, and his stomach sank.

Had one of the others fallen in the portal already? Or was it something else? That hadn’t sounded big enough to be a splash from something falling from the waterfall, but then again, he could be wrong.

“There, look!”

The voice sounded familiar, but Wild couldn’t place it over the sound of the water behind him and the blood rushing in his ears. He tried to raise himself up, and pain tore across his senses, and for a minute all he could focus on was the fire ripping through his shoulder.

“—know who he is? He looks just like—”

“—in the water, don’t—”

Two voices floated around his head as the fire eased, and Wild took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. His hair had fallen in his face, and between that and his blurry vision he couldn’t see much, especially through the damp strands. Unless he moved again, but that seemed like a bad idea.

Wild groaned, blinking to try and get the hair away from his eyes, but he barely succeeded. His wet hair slipped to the side, but all he could make out were two blobs, silhouetted by the sun shining behind them.

Then he heard a soft gasp, and the sound of a weapon being drawn.

“How is this—”

“This has trap written all over it,” a different voice than the first interrupted, soft, but sharp. Cold steel nudged Wild’s chin, and he stiffened. “Don’t go near him.”

The other voice made a worried noise as Wild weakly coughed. “I don’t think he would have fallen down a waterfall on purpose and hurt himself like this if that were true.”

“It could still be a trick.”

“I know... but we won’t get any answers if he’s too dazed to speak.”

Wild heard a huff, then the sound of footsteps padding towards him in a familiar way. A hand settled over his shoulder, and Wild groaned again, a soothing noise coming from the voice.

“Hold on just a moment.”

Then a feeling like that of a gentle stream swept over his shoulder, quiet and small, but carrying the mighty power of water along with it. Wild automatically relaxed, sinking into the bubbly feeling. A blue light flickered in his vision, healing his shoulder in a familiar way, and Wild relaxed even further before he abruptly stiffened again.

Wait...

The smooth magic trickled into his middle, down to where his lungs were still burning from the water he’d inhaled. It soothed the ache, and though Wild still felt exhausted, he could tell his shoulder had been completely fixed as well. Even the various scrapes and bruises from the fight before the river had been healed.

Which meant...

The bubbly rush of magic faded away, Wild’s vision fully cleared, and his stomach dropped out.

Red scales. Yellow eyes. A petite figure covered in scales that were smooth and shiny in the sunlight, and healing magic that was fading from slender hands.

“M... Mipha?” Wild choked out.

The Zora woman (it couldn’t be Mipha, it couldn’t—) gave him a concerned look, but before Wild could do or say anything further, the steel was back at his neck.

Wild stilled, and followed the blade resting at his neck up to the person holding it. His already fast heartbeat tripled, and he choked for a second time.

The person holding a blade at his throat was himself.

His double’s hair was much shorter, pulled back into a neat ponytail, and instead of the champion’s tunic he was wearing the Zora armor Wild had received. His eyes were steely as he watched Wild, but the most shocking thing about him was the fact that the right side of his face was entirely smooth.

He didn’t have a single one of the scars that had killed Wild.

I’m unconscious. I’m dreaming. I hit my head on a rock and I’m hallucinating—

“Explain yourself. Who are you?” his double demanded, not appearing to notice how Wild’s world was caving in on itself. Wild stared, and coughed once, still feeling tired from his fight with the river, and just... unable to process this. What could he even say?

What was going on?

“I asked you a question, who are you? What are you doing in Zora’s Domain?” his double repeated, voice even sharper.

Mipha sucked in a worried breath as she stared at Wild, and touched the double’s arm. “Oh no, did... did a little guardian bring you?” she asked, and Wild stared at her, her words jumbling in his head as he stared.

Mipha.

Mipha.

Mipha was alive here. Wild was alive here, and missing his scars, and wearing the Zora armor that Mipha had crafted to give to him as a—

“Wh... who are you?” Wild whispered, throat suddenly dry as bone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was just a mistake, a strange coincidence, but he— he had to know. He had to know.

“We asked you first,” Link’s double replied suspiciously, and Mipha set a hand on his shoulder.

“Link, he was just injured and half-drowned, I believe he’s confused. If he were here to kill us, he already would have tried,” she said pointedly, studying Wild with an intent look. “I think he looks too much like you to be a coincidence.”

“It could still be a trick. A Yiga or something,” his double said suspiciously. Wild didn’t blame him. That did sound like something the Yiga would do.

“But why add the scars and long hair?” Mipha countered, and the double looked frustrated.

“To confuse us, I’m sure there’s a motive. He’s probably here for you, you know you’re—”

“If you say “at risk” again Link, I will set Sidon on you,” Mipha said with a little huff, and turned back towards Wild with a kind-if-cautious look. “My apologies. I am Princess Mipha of the Zora, and this is my husband, Link.”

The words were like a slap, even though Wild knew they were coming.

Husband. Mipha. Zora armor.

Husband.

Link.

Wild would have fallen over backwards if he’d been upright in any way, and he stared between Mipha and his double, wondering if he was about to be sick.

They all knew the portals were transporting them through time. Wild had been a part of Time and Wind’s discussion on fractured timelines, and they all knew that there were splits and sections where the history of Hyrule didn’t make sense.

But this...

Was this a timeline where Wild hadn’t failed?

Mipha’s face grew more worried the longer Wild stared at them without speaking, and even his double started to look a little concerned.

“Did I miss an injury?” Mipha asked, scooting closer again, and Wild froze as she approached.

“No, no you got— you got everything,” Wild choked out. He felt perfectly healthy apart from being tired and his falling-apart mental state, just like if he’d used Mipha’s grace. Even though he hadn’t used it in nearly a year because the champions were finally at rest and they’d passed on and Mipha—

Wild lurched to his feet, using a rock for support, and immediately the other Link’s blade was raised again.

“Stay where you are,” he said sharply, and Wild stumbled backwards towards the water. His double’s face grew fierce and he leapt around him and blocked him off from the river. “I said stay where you are! We’ve told you who we are, now tell us your identity or I will treat you as a threat.”

Wild stilled, and swallowed. He might as well explain.

“I’m... well, Link,” he began, and the other Link didn’t move. “You... probably figured that out. I... I don’t know how I got here— I mean, I do, but it wasn’t on purpose, I-I... I don’t know what you mean about a guardian, but one didn’t bring me here.”

Wild looked at Mipha again, and swallowed thickly, his eyes stinging.

“This isn’t a trap. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not here to hurt you,” he croaked, and the other Link pulled his sword back just a hair. “I— my companions and I are traveling through time, but... I think something went wrong,” he finished in a whisper.

We’ve never had anything like this happen with the portals before.

Did the Shadow do this?

“Time travel...” Mipha said thoughtfully, and exchanged a loaded look with the other Link.

His face had creased further, but in a different way, and he finally pulled the sword away from Wild’s neck. He kept it at the ready though, and watched Wild intensely.

“How did you get here?” he asked again, a little less accusatory and a little more curious.

Wild exhaled. “It’s a long story... but it was through a portal,” he said, deciding he would just... ignore what was going on for now. It was that or completely freak out, and he wanted to know more before passing out due to shock. “My group is hunting a Shadow, one ripping holes in time. We’re trying to stop him.”

“So no Terrako then?” Link questioned, and Wild shook his head in confusion.

“No? No... Terrako. Just portals that sometimes spew powerful monsters.”

Link and Mipha both stiffened.

“These monsters, do they have darkened blood?” Mipha asked, and Wild nodded. “Oh my. We’ve seen some up in the highlands, remember that moblin, Link?”

Link grimaced. “Yes. What a disaster. We assumed it was just leftover magic from Astor or something of that nature, not... time travel related. Bazz is still recovering.” He paused for a second, then his eyes went wide and he whipped his head back towards Link. “You said you came through a portal that expels these monsters?”

“Yeah, from upriver somewhere,” Wild nodded. “But it’s not sending out monsters right now. I fell through it, then fell right in the river.”

Link frowned. “So no monsters were coming out when you went through?”

“No, they were all on the other side, my group was fighting their leader. But I don’t know—”

“Papa?”

Link froze, and Mipha looked worried as Wild turned around towards where the voice had come from.

A young, orangey colored Zora was poking his head up from the water, and he looked between Wild and Link, a wide look on his face.

“Papa?” he repeated in a curious voice, and Wild stared, studying the little Zora’s features.

“Stay in the water, Ty,” Link said seriously, and the Zora hesitated, eyes darting between Mipha and Link and Wild. Then he hopped out and scurried over to stand next to Mipha. He hid behind her leg and watched Wild with large blue eyes, and Wild began to shake, recognizing them as his own.

Oh Hylia, haven’t you put me through enough?

Mipha put a hand on Ty’s arm, and he continued to watch Wild, his expression concerned as he studied his face.

“Papa... hurt?” he said worriedly, and Link shifted around so he was standing beside him, and placed a hand on his head.

“No, I’m not hurt,” Link reassured, and Ty switched to clinging to his leg instead, still staring at Wild. His orange scales shone brightly in the sunshine, like the last rays of light before the sun set.

“Wh... who is...?” Wild choked out, and Mipha gave him a look that was as conflicted as he felt.

“This is our son. Tyde,” she explained gently, like she knew the words would hurt.

They did, hitting Wild like a laser, and he felt a mixture of longing and wonder and grief so intense he was nearly sick.

Tyde was small, and as he shifted around the other Link’s leg, Wild saw that his left arm was shorter than it should be, the fins the wrong size. He had Wild— Link’s eyes, and his frame was proportioned more like a Hylian, but he had golden-orange and white scales all along his body, and had the Zora tail on the back of his head.

All in all, he was exactly what Wild would expect a child of his and Mipha’s to look like.

A tear fell down Wild’s cheek without his permission, and he sank back down to his knees, overwhelmed. He was married here. He had a child here.

This was what would have happened if he hadn’t failed?

This was how much Mipha had loved him?

Wild began to shake, and barely even noticed as Mipha approached and knelt beside him, so lost was he in his own mind.

“You’re from the world the older Sidon came from, aren’t you,” Mipha said quietly, and Wild shakily raised his head to look at her. “I... doubt he remembered in order to tell you. Zelda theorized they all wouldn’t recall anything from their time here.”

Wild gave a small shake of his head, and Mipha sighed.

“It’s complicated I’m afraid, but we’ve dealt with time travel before,” she explained. “And me and Sidon, we... we talked a little, about things. He said that in his time the champions were slain, and that you nearly were along with us. But you were placed in a sleep for one hundred years in order to heal, and then you saved the princess.”

Wild nodded mutely, and Mipha’s face turned further grieved. She carefully reached forward, and Link couldn’t help his flinch as her cool palm rested on his cheek, right over his scars.

The other Link behind Mipha had gone white, his sword finally lowered. Tyde tugged at his pant leg, and Link wordlessly picked him up, holding him tightly to his chest as he locked gazes with Wild.

Wild could only imagine what was going through his head.

Mipha wiped the tear off Wild’s cheek then withdrew her hand, giving him the same smile that he barely remembered from a hundred years ago. It almost made Wild fully break down, but he choked back his tears. He didn’t want her to feel like she had to comfort him.

“I’ll h-have to hear about this adventure Sidon had,” he said, managing not to make his voice sound too watery. “Sounds like it w-was something.”

“It was,” Mipha said quietly. “He always spoke so highly of you.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but Wild’s double spoke up then, Tyde still nestled up to his chest.

“In your world, we... lost?” he asked in a quiet voice, and Wild swallowed thickly.

“We... did. I failed,” he whispered, not looking at Mipha. “The champions... our weapons turned against us. Overwhelmed us. I only survived because of a Sheikah invention that took a hundred years to work so I could fix my failure. So many died...”

He took in a shuddering breath, and looked at Mipha and his double again, their child still watching him intently.

“But you won here. You did it, you won—”

Wild’s voice choked off, and he barely noticed Tyde tug on his father’s sleeve, trying to get his attention. He did notice when Tyde pointed at Wild though, his brow scrunched up.

“Hurt,” he said with another tug, and for some reason that one small word made Wild lose the rest of his composure.

Suddenly it was too much, the sight of himself holding his and Mipha’s child, Mipha herself sitting beside him, her hand on her husband’s arm. It was a family Wild never had, never would have, and the fact that there was a timeline somewhere where Wild hadn’t failed them, where they had the opportunity to exist, it was just—

A small sob escaped him, and he pulled back, his shaking starting up again. Before he could bolt though, Tyde suddenly squirmed out of his father’s arms and padded over to Wild. Wild froze as he put a tiny hand on his arm, and when Wild looked down at him, he ran his hand up and down for a moment before nodding.

“Better,” he declared, then scampered back to Wild’s double.

Wild could only stare, tears dripping down his cheeks as Tyde climbed back into his father’s arms.

“He’s seen me heal before, he thinks he can too,” Mipha explained with a faint smile. “He does that whenever anyone cries, he thinks they’re hurt.”

A thick laugh burst from Wild’s throat, and he smiled shakily through the tears only running faster down his face. Tyde kept watching him, and Link swallowed back the gigantic lump in his throat in order to speak.

“Thanks,” he managed through his tears, and Tyde gave him a shy smile before hiding his face in Link’s chest.

Wild breathed out shakily, shuddering with a sob he tried not to let escape, and Mipha and his double stayed quiet as they let him cry, Tyde quietly watching them all. Mipha put her hand on his arm at one point, and Wild only cried harder, wishing he could remember her more, wishing she hadn’t died, wishing he didn’t even know what.

He merely cried, and Mipha let him, a different version of himself watching in pale-faced silence.

That was where Wolfie found them barely a quarter hour later, Wild’s eyes red as he quietly explained more about the infected monsters, Mipha and his double asking worried questions about what was going on, Tyde resting against his knee.

And nine Links became ten.

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Y'all it's here it's finally here! First chapter of my Raised in Amphibia fic, now titled Starry Night Hymnal, is out for everyone to read if you're interested! I hope you guys like it!

[avenin7]

I’ve realized why I hate most fanon interpretations of Revali now. I can’t stand when people make him lie about or brag about things he can’t actually do. I’ve always seen Revali’s character as truthful and honest to a fault. (will insult you to your face if it’s accurate levels of truth) He’s egotistical yes. Because he can actually back up what he says. I find it so annoying irl when someone says they can do something when they can’t or lies about knowing what you’re talking about when they very obviously don’t. And I’ve noticed a lot of fanon takes his character that way because of the common headcanon that he’s insecure. But I find that trait so unbearably annoying and have never headcanoned Revali’s character that way. I’ve always seen him as humble when you know, he actually doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Or being able to acknowledge when someone else has skill higher than him. (the whole POINT with his beef with Link is because he was under the impression Link thought he was better than him. He just wanted a chance to either be proven right or wrong. His dialogue in the dlc implies that even if he lost, he would have been content to just know). That doesn’t sound like someone who can’t acknowledge when they’re wrong.

So when people are out here writing Revali in extreme denial and making him act like a complete asshat who thinks he’s hot shit when he’s very obviously NOT; it rubs me the wrong way. Feels like it does a disservice to his character a lot. and makes him extremely immature & annoying

[supersnaill]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60987136/chapters/163780480#workskin

It wasn't that he couldn't handle a little blood– he was the opposite of squeamish– but the thought of spending hours in a cramped tent full of the dying sent his stomach twisting into knots.

Four and Mipha hang out in the coolest place ever (the emergency medical tent) :^)

[calamity-unlocked]

My Midnight Sun

He wished Nick would leave, would get back to the party. Nick belonged on the other side of the wall, between happy people who were giggling over casual hook-ups and flavored vapes. “You’re getting soaking wet,” Nick said, like it was a funny thing. “Where’s Cass?” Lark shot back, because he was getting sick of Nick’s bullshit.

Narkmas Day 5: Party

Organized by @alien-bluez

[levemetal]

I got Procreate and gave it a test run with some silly AU sketches of course

So have Calamity SJ adopting Hong‘er! Ft. my silly calamity MNQ AU and it’s inevitable conclusion of atticwife Jun Wu in the second pic because I am no longer in control here.

SY tried to be the cool uncle, unfortunately YQY is the cooler uncle so he got the Feng Xin treatment. Binghe about to start beef with a child lmfao.

Ling Wen is new heavenly emperor and I ensure you she is as overworked as ever, but she does not care about heavenly officials marrying calamities anymore. First was YQY, and then Jun Wu. Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan are really not trendstarters here.

[perfectfeelings]

I figure, if a girl wants to be a legend, she should go ahead and be one.

Calamity Jane

[aegon-targaryen]

So Many Eyes

Oneshot | 7.3K words | Pre-Calamity BOTW zelink | read on AO3

Like any good soldier, the first thing he sees is the blade.

He’s not sure what woke him—not even sure he is awake—but a silhouette looms over his bed, and a sliver of moonlight arcs toward his throat. Link rolls off the mattress and hears the strange sigh of steel piercing through his pillow.

Every night for the past five years, he’s gone to sleep within arm’s reach of the Master Sword. This is the first time his hand has closed over empty air instead of its hilt.

A shadow detaches itself from the corner. Link flinches away, right into a sharp jab to the back of his knee, which takes his legs out from under him. A heavy boot connects with his chest and slams him down hard enough to drive the breath from him.

Pain tears at his scalp as a gloved hand seizes his hair and traps his right wrist against the floor. He claws blindly with his left until someone restrains that arm too—that must mean a third assailant, because the first one’s boot is still pinning Link in place. Cold metal touches his throat. His gaze travels up the shining stretch of the blade.

The man towering over him wears the plumed helmet of a Hyrulean soldier.

For a moment, the silence is broken only by Link’s breath wheezing out of his stunned lungs. Then laughter fills the room, cruel and contemptuous, followed by a shiver of magic. Crimson leathers replace the familiar uniform, and three white masks leer down at him with the inverted eye of the Yiga Clan.

“So you aren’t fearless after all,” mocks the blademaster whose boot is crushing down on his ribs.

Link slams his jaw shut, emptying everything from his expression. He should have seen this coming. Safety is never to be taken for granted.

He strains against the hold on his arms and tries to kick at the blademaster, who merely leans into him with crippling weight. Link heaves for air. Black spots invade his peripheral vision, along with a soft glow he passes off as another symptom of suffocation until the silvery chime of his sword’s call reaches that place deep inside him. She’s right there against the wall, where his attackers must have moved her.

“Got any last words?” one of the Yiga sneers. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

The iron grip drags on Link’s hair, pulling his head back to bare his throat. Swathes of darkness drift over him like clouds, obscuring and then revealing the white masks with their bloodred eyes. Terror sluices through his veins. The only word he can think is Zelda.

“Glory to Master Kohga,” the blademaster says, raising the Windcleaver over his head.

That’s his mistake; he can’t lift such a heavy weapon without shifting some weight onto his back foot. The lightened pressure allows Link to wrench himself sideways a split-second before the cleaver whistles past his ears and crashes into the floorboards.

One of the other Yiga locks an arm around his neck from behind. He sinks his teeth into cloth and meat, tasting a flood of copper before the man howls and lets go. Link tears his arms free and rolls to dodge another blow from the cleaver, scrambling over to the wall.

The Master Sword sings beneath his touch. He draws it faster than he ever has, the scabbard clanging to the floor as he rises to his knees and stabs the first Yiga through the chest.

The horror of the desert repeats itself. A warm spatter on his face, the sick slide of steel through flesh, the gasp of a life draining out.

Link whips the sword out to block his second foe’s sickle and takes him down with a slash across the neck, then pivots away from a swing of the Windcleaver, robbing the blademaster of his blade with a brutally quick parry. The floor erupts with a fissure he can hear more than see. He’s thrown back against the wall, legs crumpling beneath him. The blademaster’s huge hands close around Link’s throat, but a moment later, the Master Sword opens his windpipe.

The Yiga staggers back, clawing at his neck, and collapses into a small table by the window. A water pitcher plummets off the edge and shatters against the floor, louder than death. The man gasps and chokes and loses the battle, joining his comrades in silence.

Link presses himself to the wall, chest heaving for air, pulse pounding in his ears at a deafening volume—no, that’s the sound of someone pounding on his door. It slams open before his paralyzed mind can catch up. He scrambles to his feet with sword in hand.

Two knights rush through the doorway in their nightclothes. One holds a candle that spills soft orange light over the spreading pools of blood, the unmoving bodies, the white mask that fell from one of their faces.

Link’s gaze crawls over the blademaster’s prone form, finds a tuft of dark hair and a hooked nose, and skitters away instantly.

“Goddess above,” the first knight says, lifting the candle higher to illuminate Link, standing there with his sword dripping onto the floorboards. The second knight staggers out of the room to call for the captain.

Link lowers the sword but does not sheathe it. The Yiga came in disguise. Could their magic replicate a face as well as a soldier’s armor? Could they be impersonating this man? Link has known him for years, but that proves nothing. Zelda nearly lost her life to the Yiga’s deception.

Zelda.

Doors are opening up and down the hall as sleep-mussed people shuffle out to investigate the commotion. The second knight returns with the captain, and suddenly Link’s room is full of people, all of them talking over each other loudly enough to wake the rest of the barracks.

“Did they injure you?” asks one of the knights, an ordinarily hard-faced man who seemed incapable of smiling until the day Link saw him wandering the town market with a little girl on his shoulders. There’s something of that softness in his gaze right now, and it tightens Link’s throat until speech becomes unfathomable.

The captain turns away from the bodies, his slate-grey eyes scouring Link up and down. “What happened here?”

The air reeks of copper. His breathing sounds ridiculously loud in his ears and he’s trying to get it under control, trying to be who they need him to be, but all he can think is, If they got to me, they can get to Zelda.

“I asked you a question,” the captain growls.

Link turns on his heel and runs.

Shouts follow him out the door and past the gawking faces that line the hallway, but no one pursues. He races up the stairs, down another corridor, and out into the frigid night. The frozen ground sends vague jolts of pain from his bare feet to his calves, but Link charges ceaselessly for the two towers silhouetted against the stars.

His ribs and lungs are screaming by the time he reaches the top floor. The guards on either side of Zelda’s door take far too long to react to his presence. When they do, their jaws drop open. One even takes his spear in both hands before recognition dawns in his eyes. Link can’t really blame them; he’s rarely seen without his blue tunic and the tie that keeps his hair out of his face.

“Er…Champion?” one of them stammers. “You’re—you’re covered in blood?”

 Oh, he thinks blankly, and does not allow himself to look down.

“What are you doing here?”

“You can’t expect to see the princess at this hour,” adds the other man. “Especially not…like that.”

A perfectly reasonable response, but Link has no time for this. He flounders around for the words that will get him into that room, hyperaware of the guards’ gazes and the slick blood between his fingers.

The door swings open all on its own. Zelda blinks owlishly in the torchlight, a messy braid spilling down the shoulder of her pale nightgown, sleepy and confused and alive, alive, alive. He can’t stop a shudder from rattling through his whole frame.

“Link?” she says blearily, her eyes focusing and widening. “You’re bleeding!”

He steps past her into the room. The guards sputter out apologies to Zelda, but she holds up a hand and watches Link scour the shadows behind her changing screen and under her bed. So many possible entrances: the balcony, the windows, the spiral staircase, the bridge connecting this tower to the next.

“What’s going on?” Zelda demands.

“I wish I knew, Princess,” mutters one of the guards.

Warm fingers catch Link’s sword arm. He would know them anywhere, even though touch is a rare and dangerous thing between them, yet he can’t stop himself from flinching violently. Zelda lets go. Of course she does; the blood is already drying on his skin.

“Out. That’s an order.” It’s been months since her voice cut so sharply. Link’s heart slams against his ribcage like a frightened horse kicking at the stall door. He hears the guards retreat and dreads having to follow before she adds quietly, “Not you.”

The door shuts behind them; that’s one entrance secure. All he can see through the windows is black night, interrupted here and there by the watchmen’s torches. Stalking to the balcony, Link flings open the door with his sword raised, checking the platform and the surrounding walls before he closes the door and drags over a small cabinet to act as a barricade.

“Is that your blood?” Zelda is blocking his path when he turns around, arms crossed against the chill he just allowed into the room. “Link. Is that your—”

He shakes his head, sliding around her and taking the stairs two at a time, only slowing when he realizes that she’s coming with him. That’s probably for the best; Link shouldn’t leave her alone right now, though he does hold out a hand to make her wait in the stairwell until he’s certain the second floor is clear.

She follows him across the bridge to check her dark study. There’s nothing here, nothing anywhere, but Link pauses halfway back to her room, listening intently for footsteps, for voices, for the scrape of grappling hooks on the tower walls. The only sounds breaching the deep night are flags snapping in the wind and Zelda shivering in front of him, her nightgown the same color as the quarter-moon that smudges the cloudy sky.

For the moment, they’re safe.

Winter’s bite sinks into him all of a sudden. The flagstones are ice under his feet, the Master Sword so cold it hurts his fingers. Zelda must be worse off without the madness of adrenaline fueling her.

They return to her room in silence. She brushes past him to light a candle on her nightstand. Link is contemplating how to barricade the staircase when she rounds on him, her arms tight around herself and her face half in shadow. “Tell me what happened.”

The old impatience tinges her voice, but it doesn’t hurt the way it used to; he understands now that Zelda’s helplessness always materializes as anger, just as his takes the form of silence. Some knight he is, being the cause of her fear. She’s staring at his clothes, and a vague needle of grief threads through him. He still doesn’t want to look down, but he has a feeling the oversized shirt that once belonged to his father is filthy beyond saving.

There are far bigger concerns, though. His princess is waiting for an answer.

One word. One word to help her understand. As a kid, Link once dropped his wooden sword into the sink-mud bordering the wetlands. Reclaiming it from the thick murk required all his strength. Dredging up his voice feels much the same right now, and all that effort only delivers a thin whisper.

“Yiga.”

“In your bedroom?” Zelda gasps.

He nods.

“Was anyone hurt?”

Link drags in a slow breath through his nose, wishing it wouldn’t tremble so much on the exhale. “Just them.”

Her lips part, but it’s a long time before anything comes out. “You came here,” she manages breathlessly. “Your first thought was to come here.”

He stares at her, his voice drifting away like leaves down a river.

“I…sit down. I’ll be back in a moment.”

She opens the door to speak with the guards. Link stares at a sketch tacked to the wall above her desk, some Sheikah contraption surrounded by scribbly notes, and tries to stop smelling the blood. The sword hilt is sticky with it, but the scabbard is back in his room with the corpses. He should go back—the captain needs his report—but that would mean entrusting Zelda’s safety to that slack-jawed pair at the door when anyone and everyone could be the enemy in disguise.

The castle has never quite felt like somewhere he belongs, but at the very least, it’s always been secure. Now, he can practically feel the Calamity’s fangs at his throat.

“I asked them to check on my father,” Zelda says, stepping back inside and closing the door behind her. “Someone likely woke him with the news already, but I want to make certain he’s safe. Are you sure you’re not injured?”

Link nods.

“But you…are you okay?”

Even beginning to answer that question seems unfathomable. He’s vaguely aware of Zelda rummaging around in her dresser, but he can’t look at her, can’t ground himself, can’t figure out what a hero is supposed to do right now. Stay here? Return to the barracks? Report to the king?

“Here,” she says. Link glances sidelong at the shirt she’s holding out to him. She seems to be struggling to look at him too, her cheeks tinged red with the candle’s glow. “Something clean to wear. I’ve been meaning to return it to you.”

At the Spring of Power, Zelda shook and struggled and eventually clung to him as he drew her out of the dark water and gave her the first dry clothes he found in his pack—the standard-issue black tunic that goes beneath his royal guard uniform and a pair of trousers. Both were frayed and probably smelly, but at the time, Link’s embarrassment was secondary to getting her out of that sodden dress.

There is nothing wrong with you, he told her over and over again, and his voice didn’t tremble once, even with the Goddess’s stone silhouette looming over them.

The strength of that night feels far away. Link wants so badly to accept the shirt, both to free himself of the horrific smell of copper and to avoid snuffing out the hopeful light in Zelda’s eyes. But he has to shake his head.

Her brows knit together. “Why not?”

He glances at the door.

“People will talk?” she guesses, then scowls fearsomely at his nod. “I don’t care.”

Link holds her gaze long enough to see her waver. The rumors are easy to imagine. The swordsman entered the princess’s bedchamber in one shirt and came out in another, all before the bodies were even cold. What does that say about him? About her?

“I don’t care,” Zelda insists, though he can hear how much she does. At the very least, a scandal would infuriate the king, which is the last thing she needs right now.

And he cares desperately. Since he first knelt before the throne with the Master Sword on his back and so many eyes upon him, Link has understood that his strength is Hyrule’s strength. Ignoring his commanding officer and sprinting through the castle like a madman was bad enough. There can be no further cracks in his armor.

He wants to press the shirt back into Zelda’s hands and say, Thank you for trying. Keep it for as long as you want. Keep everything that’s in my power to give.

“I can’t just let you—” she starts, but a knock on the door interrupts her. “Yes?”

“All is well with the king, Your Highness,” one of the guards says through the door. “Sir Link is wanted back in the barracks, though.”

Her spine stiffens. With a swift glance at Link, she wraps a cloak around her shoulders and declares, “I’m coming with you. My authority still counts for something. If there are questions about why you left to come here, I’ll be there to answer them.”

She braces for an argument, her chin raised in that stubborn manner he recalls all too keenly from when they were bound by obligation instead of friendship. Link just shrugs. He’d rather keep her close in case more Yiga are around. Zelda gives him a self-satisfied hmmph as she steps into a pair of slippers.

“Can I at least offer you some shoes?” she asks.

Link looks down at his bare feet, reddened by the cold and starting to ache from the run over, and nods. He’s not expecting her to hand him the traveling boots that have borne her all over Hyrule. They’re a little tight, but wearing something of Zelda’s—feeling the imprints she’s left in the leather—makes him lightheaded for reasons he doesn’t want to examine too closely.

You’ve been a kindness to me, she told him once. And sometimes kindness can hurt.

Not for the first time, Link understands her perfectly.

.

.

.

The barracks are full of his bedraggled comrades, armoring for duty or chattering in low voices. Most fall silent as Link and Zelda pass by. The two soldiers guarding the hallway that leads to his room step aside without a word.

The Yiga lie where they fell—two piled between the bed and the wall, the third near the table. He catches a glimpse of the blademaster’s unmasked face and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from being sick.

“Finally,” the captain sighs when Link crosses the threshold. “Do you think that sword puts you above obeying orders? The next time you—”

“To whom is Link sworn?” Zelda asks mildly, stepping into the torchlight as every soldier in the room snaps to attention. Her gaze flickers over the bodies, and Link sees her swallow hard before she continues. “The duties my father assigned him as my knight supersede any other order. He left only to thwart any potential attempts on my life.”

“Of course, Princess.” The captain has turned red under his helmet. “My apologies. We were not expecting you.”

“Nor was I,” says King Rhoam. If the captain’s face was red before, it’s flaming now. The king fills the doorway, an imposing figure despite his simple robe and absent crown. Link goes down on one knee, along with all the other soldiers.

Through his messy bangs, he watches Zelda’s hands tighten into fists. “Father,” she greets carefully.

“Zelda. My quarters were quiet this evening. Were yours?”

“Yes.”

Such a veiled way to ask if she’s all right. Link has barely seen his family in years, but distance seems more bearable than what Zelda has—her mother cold in a grave, her father not much warmer.

“I had no wish for you to see this carnage,” Rhoam continues.

“An attack on my appointed knight is an attack on me,” Zelda replies. Link’s eyes sting. It’s been a long time since anyone stood at his side instead of expecting him to lead the charge. He wishes they were alone. He wishes he could uncurl her clenched fingers and press a kiss to her palm.

“Rise, all of you,” the king commands. His stony eyes are on Link the moment he straightens, flashing briefly to his borrowed boots before returning to his face. “Well done, sir knight. Both in stopping the Yiga and in ensuring my daughter’s safety.”

The hair on the back of Link’s neck rises as the compliment draws every gaze in the room to him—except for Zelda’s. If only the king would spare an ounce of this praise for his own daughter.

“Tell us what we need to know about this incident,” Rhoam orders him.

Link’s throat is bone-dry. Zelda’s worried eyes find him again, and he looks nowhere but her as he drags out the answer. “They were disguised as guards.”

“They don’t look like guards to me,” the captain mutters, eyeing the crimson-clad corpses. Nausea climbs up Link’s gullet.

“The Yiga can magically shed their disguises at the blink of an eye,” Zelda points out. “I saw them do just that outside Gerudo Town once.” She catches her father’s glance and adds, “Urbosa handled it.”

“Then the enemy may have infiltrated our ranks,” Rhoam says grimly. “We must interview every guard, search their belongings, review service records…the nobility could be compromised as well. Even the servants. Captain, assemble your people in the courtyard. I will issue orders from there.”

“I can help, Father.”

“You have other duties to attend.” He doesn’t watch her wilt, but his tired eyes return to Link. “I would have your knight remain with you until the castle is secure. Captain, find them a space that you are confident can be defended.”

The king sweeps away, his parting words the first indication that after the castle is out of danger, there will be hard questions about how the Yiga got as far as they did. Watching the captain wince is a little satisfying, even under the circumstances. It’s on his orders that Link receives a relentless number of assignments, on the grounds that the Master Sword grants him advantages everyone else lacks.

Zelda rails against his treatment with a passion he finds baffling, but the truth is, he never used to care. The work occupied his hands and his mind, and the captain was right about how badly his skills were needed. But then Zelda tore down the walls between them, and everything changed—because now there’s someone who seeshim, understands him, listens to what he can’t say. These days, when Link is killing things or sparring with soldiers who watch his sword with covetous eyes, all he thinks about is how much he’d rather be with Zelda.

Because of her, time is something to be craved rather than merely endured. So the king’s command is a relief. A gift, even.

The captain’s sour expression makes it clear he’d rather employ the Master Sword elsewhere, but he leads Link and Zelda out of the barracks and down the stone passage that cuts beneath the central castle. Guards flank them on all sides, bearing torches and steel and haggard expressions. Fear must be stalking their thoughts just as it does Link’s. Days will pass before any of his comrades can trust the person next to them again.

But the person next to Link is Zelda, and—Goddess, how he longs to reach out and hold her hand.

The passage opens into the library, an ordinarily cozy space turned cavernously dark and dangerous by this impossibly long night. Link supposes the Yiga are less likely to come looking for him or Zelda here, but it’s so far from being easily defensible that his fingers tighten around the hilt of the sword.

Then the captain trails his hand along the bookshelves that line the western wall, pausing at a case with glass doors and waving over another man to help drag it aside. A narrow passage yawns between the shelves.

“Princess, do you recall where the other entrance is?” the captain asks.

“I do,” Zelda replies briskly. “Let us hope it sees no use tonight.”

“I will station a full unit here. Respond only to this knock.” He raps a four-note pattern against the wall. “Should you need anything, please use the same code.”

He holds out his torch. She lifts her chin without taking it, that stubbornness reemerging in the set of her shoulders, and says firmly, “See that you remember my knight has served your guard and this kingdom better than any other, Captain. He is not a spear to be thrown at the enemy or a shield for others to hide behind. At the very least, he deserves to be safe in his own bed.”

With that, she accepts the torch and slips into the black maw of the passageway between the bookshelves. The captain is turning red again. Link’s been at the receiving end of Zelda’s ire enough to find some sympathy this time, but more than that, her words stir up some unnamable feeling that tightens his throat and sends him scrambling into the darkness after her.

The bookcase slides back in place behind him. He follows Zelda up a short staircase and into a rugged cave of a room. She lights several sconces with her torch, brightening the place one piece at a time: the bunk bed crammed into one corner, the trunks and sealed barrels in another, the water trickling down the wall across from the stairs. Link assumes it’s leaking from the castle’s upper levels until he notices the fountain carved into the stone.

“It’s a safe room,” Zelda explains. “The guards are digging to connect it with the escape tunnels that lead out of the castle. The other side of the library has a passageway down to an underground dock.” She winces. “Royal secrets, technically, but…well, you’ve seen it now.”

The fountain is an ingenious touch. Assuming those barrels contain some kind of food, the royal family could hide here for weeks.

“We’ve used this room twice that I can recall. Once when a Yiga was discovered stealing bananas from the kitchen. And much earlier than that, when they made an attempt on my mother’s life.”

Link feels suddenly foolish for thinking that day in the desert was the first time she’s come under attack. Of course the Yiga have been hounding the princess destined to seal the Calamity for as long as she’s been alive.

He didn’t encounter them until he was fourteen, learning spearwork from an old friend of his father’s at Kara Kara Bazaar, the Master Sword always carefully wrapped to conceal its nature. Word got out somehow, though, because a pair of masked figures found him alone among the dunes one night, wandering to clear the thoughts that were only just beginning to take root back then, thoughts of what the world was asking of him and what it meant to answer.

Link got away mostly unscathed. So did the Yiga. Unlike tonight.

The throbbing pain in his ribs is growing harder to ignore. Zelda leaves her torch in one of the sconces and faces him again.

“Not many people know about this place,” she says quietly. “The guards are right outside; we’ll hear if anything goes wrong. So you can…”

She trails off, waiting for him to say or do something. Link pushes his messy hair out of his eyes in frustration. Maybe tying it back would help him pull himself together, but a glance down at the blue band around his wrist makes him clench his jaw until he hears it creak. For a moment there, he forgot about the blood caking the hairtie to his skin, drying in the lines that cross his palm, probably smearing his face where he just brushed his bangs away. Again, Link feels his blade glide smoothly through muscle and meat. Again, he hears the Yiga fight for their last breaths.

It’s all too much—the memories, the weight of the sword, everything that waits for him outside this room. He takes a step back from Zelda, who watches with wide eyes.

“Link,” she says in a voice that makes him want to flee and fall apart all at once.

He’s suddenly aware that he’s gasping for air, that he’s been shaking this whole time and can’t figure out how to stop. When Zelda’s hands land on his shoulders, Link jolts like a spooked horse. She withdraws, but only to lift the sword from his unresisting fingers. After she lowers it carefully to the floor, her palms come away red.

Never blind yourself to it, his mother told him once, her own hands stained with the deer she was teaching him to butcher. Never let it become easy.

Link wants to be blind so badly it hurts.

“Come here,” Zelda says, gathering him into her arms. He struggles half-heartedly, terrified of ruining her lovely nightgown, but she only strengthens her grip and commands, “Stop. Just stop. You’re allowed to be human for a moment.”

Is he? Three dead people on his floor, and the princess of Hyrule is pressing him close to her heart.

Nothing about this is proper. Zelda spent an awful night at his bedside in the infirmary, holding his hand while the surgeon coaxed an arrow from his flesh. Link carried her out of the Spring of Power when she was half-conscious with fever and despair. But those were emergencies. The rest of the time, touch is restricted to helping her mount her horse, offering his arm when they scramble up a rocky slope, sitting with his shoulder tantalizingly close to hers.

They’ve never held each other. Link can’t even return the embrace without worsening both the stains on her dress and the ache in his ribs. But he also can’t bring himself to pull away.

“I’m grateful that you’re safe,” Zelda says, fingers digging into the back of his shirt. “No matter what. Are you listening to me?”

Link nods against her shoulder. She’s so impossibly warm, and he clings to the sensation of her steady heartbeat, listening to his own pulse slow down from near-hysteria to something resembling normalcy.

“Zelda,” he whispers eventually.

“Yes?”

Even the court poet’s eloquent words would fail to capture what she’s just done for him. Link is starting to realize how much of her bare skin is touching his, and desperate hunger rears its head with the desire to tangle his hands in her hair and show her everything he’s struggling to voice.

Link clears his throat and pulls back. Zelda offers him a small, sad smile and leads him over to the fountain, bringing their joined hands beneath the cold flow of water. He occupies himself with speculating about the engineering. The pipes must be channeling the castle’s moat all the way through the earth to reach them here, and perhaps the grate empties out somewhere near these hidden docks beneath the library.

It’s easier than watching the water run red.

All the while, her hands are on his—turning them this way and that, rubbing carefully at the spots where the blood clings on more stubbornly, guiding his arms under the flow too. Link keeps his thoughts far away and his gaze on the little furrow that forms between Zelda’s brows when she’s concentrating, so it comes as a surprise when he looks down to find his skin nearly as clean as it was when he crawled into bed hours ago, not knowing what was about to happen.

“Almost done,” Zelda says, pushing his hair out of the way, just as she did when he came away from that fight in Eldin with two tiny scratches that still somehow made her worry. Her gentle fingers trail water over his forehead and cheeks, and Link shivers, remembering with foolish longing how her body felt against his.

Her lips part, but then she steps back, digging something out of the pocket of her cloak—the same black tunic she offered him earlier. “Please take it this time.”

This time, he reaches for the hem of his bloodied nightshirt without hesitation. Zelda releases a wordless squeak he finds incredibly endearing, whirling around with her hands over her eyes. Noble propriety will mystify him as long as he lives. Not so long ago, she stood in a room of corpses without turning away.

He pulls the shirt over his head and lets it slip from his fingers. Words follow, dangerous and unbidden. “I don’t mind.”

Zelda lowers her hands, though it’s another second before she turns to face him. At first her gaze warms him better than any fireplace could, but then it snags on his abdomen, noticing the angry splotches around his chest and ribs at the same time he does. She comes forward, lifting his arm to find red fingerprints from where the Yiga restrained him, and then circles around to his back, hissing at whatever evidence she finds there. He’ll be bruised by tomorrow, but it’s her featherlight touch making his legs feel week right now, not the pain.

“Those cowards,” she says in a small voice. “Always striking from the shadows. Always hiding behind masks.”

Link shrugs. “It’s what they do.”

Besides, he paid them back tenfold. Zelda shakes her head, grabbing her torch wordlessly and heading back down the stairs. He hears the knock pattern the captain taught her, hears the bookcase slide aside in response so she can talk to the guards. Too tired to be curious, Link pulls the clean black shirt over his head and uses the soiled one to clean the last of the blood from the Master Sword.

Zelda returns with a handkerchief full of icicles the guards must have gathered at her behest. She orders him to sit down on the bottom bunk and hands him the handkerchief to press to his ribs, then sits beside him to ask questions about his pain and his breathing that he answers as best he can.

“And how is your heart?” she says at the end.

“Seems to be working.”

“Link. You know what I mean.”

His gaze strays back to his bloodied nightshirt, puddled on the floor like a dead thing. His father gave it to him sometime during their travels. It’s not like training with every tribe and facing every threat the wild has to offer was easy, but Link took so many things for granted about those years—most of all, his father being there to make bad coffee over the campfire and give up his shirts to keep Link warm.

His father is stationed at Akkala Citadel now. It’s been a long time since Link went home to see his mother and sister. He sends perfunctory letters once a month so they know he’s alive, but he never really knows what to talk about, or how to bring back the boy they used to know.

“I don’t know,” Link says finally. “I don’t—have space to think about that.”

“I think pain is there whether we think about it or not. Even I was convinced I was holding it together until you showed up and saw right through me.” Zelda smiles at him wearily. “I’ve never excelled at hiding what I feel from anyone, but with you…it was impossible from the start, and it took me a long time to be okay with that. So believe me, I understand how hard it is to look inwards. But you’ve helped me. So let me help you.”

He shifts the ice to the other side of his ribcage, watching shadows dance across the rock walls of their shelter.

“Link, please. I can’t just let you bury yourself.”

Hasn’t Link thought the same thing countless times, watching her shiver in the sacred springs, leave behind the research she loves, hold her head high past the whispers that follow them through every town? He looks down at Zelda’s white-knuckled grip on the edge of the mattress, and he knows that if he buries himself, there will be no one left to dig her out.

“I guess I…” he starts slowly. “I think the enemy gets stronger every day. I think things are going to get worse from here on out.”

“Oh,” Zelda breathes, and her fingers clasp together in a compulsive, familiar gesture that breaks his heart. She’s praying, perhaps subconsciously—for her power to awaken, for his words to be untrue, for them both to have the time that fate has denied them. Regretting his words instantly, Link sets the ice down and pulls her hands into his lap.

“I don’t doubt that we’ll win,” he says, though in his heart of hearts, he carries more doubt than he’ll ever admit.

“But you’re afraid of something.”

If only Link could refute that. His chest aches with every word. “I’ve changed. I don’t—at the end of this, I don’t know if I’ll…if my family will…”

Zelda squeezes his hands like they’re something precious, despite the rust-red stains under his nails. Link bites the inside of his cheek. He’s spent years killing his own voice and past and future without hesitation until she reminded him that life is worth living. Silencing others forever has a different weight. One Yiga in the desert, three in his bedroom, more monsters than he can even begin to count—where does it end? How long can he keep going?

“It doesn’t frighten me,” she says softly. “I won’t pretend to understand how it feels to do what you did tonight, but if the cost of your life is that of our enemies, then Hylia forgive me, I’ll pay it. Do you think that’s wrong?”

“No,” he admits slowly. Any other answer would be a lie. Link has never been so quick to deal out death as he was that day in the desert, with that Vicious Sickle seconds away from cutting the sun from the sky.

“Nor do I. The Yiga hunt us sheerly because of who we were born to be. For the same reason, the whole world has demanded that we change. You aren’t to blame for who you’ve needed to become since you drew the sword. I think everyone else who loves you would say the same thing.”

Everyone else who—

Heat spreads from his neck to the tips of his ears. A sheepish smile crosses Zelda’s face as she absorbs her words. Link has none of his own to offer, so he just pulls her close. She twines her arms around his neck, more careful now that she knows about his damaged ribs, and he closes his eyes to breathe in the smell of nectar and ink. Sometime after entering this quiet sanctuary with her, he finally stopped shaking, and he’s only just realized it.

“I thought of you,” he breathes into her shoulder. “When the Yiga almost—I thought of you.”

“Link,” she says raggedly, and there’s more hope in that one word than any prayer she’s given to the Goddess.

She fits so perfectly against him that it’s hard to believe he’s gone a lifetime without feeling her breath against his neck. He knows with perfect clarity that he would do it all over again if it brought him here into her arms. They don’t cry—they never cry—but they hold each other until she’s heavy with sleep, and even then, Link is reluctant to lay her down on the bunk.

He stays there at the edge of the mattress, alone in the flickering firelight, and allows himself to think of home for the first time in what feels like eons. Insects singing in the summer grass. Sunlight on water. His mother behind him on the back of a horse, her graceful hands showing his small ones how to hold the reins. His father coming home with a worn smile, helmet tucked under his arm. His little sister, all yellow pigtails and muddy legs, running up to give Link a handful of wildflowers and a gap-toothed smile.

Time is impossible to keep track of down here. After some of it trickles by, one of the guards knocks on the door to bring him more ice. There’s something strange in the way he doesn’t make eye contact, something almost ashamed. Link puzzles over that for a while longer, glancing down every so often to watch dreams drift across Zelda’s eyelids. She starts to stir at the second knock, and he trots downstairs just in time for the shelf to slide away, allowing a shaft of near-blinding sun to reach through the gap.

“The castle’s secure,” the captain informs him tiredly. “To an extent, that is. Persons of interest will remain under heavy guard, but the princess can return to her quarters.”

Link nods, surprised he came to deliver the news himself; he’s got bags under his eyes and surely a thousand things to do.

“Sir Link,” the captain says before he can walk back upstairs, and Link freezes, unable to recall a time when the captain used his name. “They’ve moved your things to a spare bunk in the main barracks, the door to which will be guarded at all times. You’re on leave for two weeks unless you receive orders higher than mine.”

Only years of practice keep Link’s jaw from dropping. Two weeks? He’s never gotten more than a few days. Sudden paranoia sparks through him at the memory of the Yiga looming over him in Hyrulean uniforms. At least this time his sword is right in his hand, but—

“The princess had a point,” the captain says impatiently. “We all owe you better. Now go and fetch her, unless you’re planning to ignore orders again.”

This can’t be an imposter; the Yiga wouldn’t know about his insubordinate track record. Link searches the captain’s face for some sign that his sudden generosity is a joke, or somehow a punishment, but the man just holds his gaze impassively. Not wanting to test his luck, Link floats back up the stairs as though in a dream. Two weeks.

Zelda is up and splashing water on her face when Link returns. “Good,” she says when he relays the captain’s decision. “He’s finally come to his senses.”

Link shrugs, still mystified as they emerge blinking against the sunlight to meet her guard escort. For a moment of strange panic, he doesn’t want to watch her go, as though everything he told her and everything she told him will fade with the light of day.

“Get some rest, sir knight,” she orders him. They can’t touch each other again with such an audience, but the fondness is all in her voice and the curl of her lips.

Link nods solemnly, turning in the other direction, then pauses and glances back at her. “Princess?”

Everyone but Zelda twitches at the sound of his voice. She raises her eyebrows in a silent question, and Link nods in response. He’s all right. But without her, that wouldn’t be the case. His life since drawing the sword has made it clear that he can survive anything. But Zelda is the reason an impossible bud of hope still pushes up through the soil at every sunrise.

“Thank you,” Link says, the words clear as a mountain lake, “for lending me your boots.”

The guards all look at his feet in disbelief—him borrowing something from the princess is gossip by itself—but he’s focused on watching the tips of Zelda’s ears grow pink. Link worries that he’s done something wrong until she breathes out a laugh.

“Anytime,” she promises, holding his gaze for one more second before she finally turns away.

He drifts back to the main barracks. A few lower-ranking soldiers are snoring among the rows of bunk beds, but most of the force is out there securing the castle. Link finds his belongings laid out in the quiet corner where he’ll be staying until his room is no longer a crime scene, though the idea of ever sleeping there again is not a welcome one. He slides the Master Sword back into its scabbard, crawls into bed, and closes his aching eyes.

Two weeks, he thinks in amazement, and again his mind fills with the warm memory of home.

Maybe it’s finally time he paid a visit.

.

.

.

[smilesrobotlover]

Chapter 4- Shrines

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AO3

Summary: it’s been three years since Calamity Ganon attacked Hyrule, and everyone was recovering well from it. Until the strange substance gloom appeared, making people sick when they touched it. Wanting to find answers, Zelda and the champions went beneath the castle against her father’s wishes to try to solve the problem. Meanwhile, the King of Hyrule is desperately trying to figure out more about the gloom, though no one knows the true danger lurking beneath Hyrule…

Hey guys! This au is gonna be on hiatus while I wait to see what Age of Imprisonment has to offer. I just want to do what I can to make this how I want it to :) Hope you enjoy this.

Despite the struggle with the ability, ultrahand was a very convenient tool to use as Link traveled across the islands. Ziplines and planks helped him reach areas he couldn’t reach on his own, and so he was moving through obstacles that normally would make him stuck. 

Link kept his eyes peeled for the green shrine, but with the trees and small huts scattered across the island, the next shrine was possibly blocked out of his vision. After wandering around for a while, Link heard a sound, and he turned to see a steward construct cutting down a tree with a familiar ghostly figure watching it. Curious, Link walked over to Rauru, who was sitting on a tree stump with his head resting in his hand. It was an odd position to see him in—Rauru acted very proper and dignified from what he saw, so seeing him so casual was surprising to Link. Though he rarely knew the guy, so who was he to know how Rauru really acted? 

Rauru’s gaze turned to Link, a melancholic look in his eyes. He gestured to the steward construct cutting wood, inviting Link to look as well.

“Steward constructs were made to assist us,” he simply explained, “they gave us time to do things we wanted to do instead of worrying about chores. We were always fond of them.” Rauru smiled slightly, but it quickly dropped. “I’m surprised they’re still working to this day. There’s no one to serve and assist, yet they still work as if there is. It’s disquieting to me.”

Link watched the steward construct, simply cutting wood and tying the bundles together. He could understand why Rauru found it all disquieting, serving with no purpose. His mind went to the steward construct that was cooking food for people to enjoy, only for it to go to waste in the end. It must’ve been a lonely life for the constructs.

“Are you finding the shrines alright?” Rauru suddenly asked, and Link shrugged. “There’s a shrine just up ahead. It shouldn’t take you long to find it.”

Link nodded, grateful to have some direction, and he began his trek to the next shrine while Rauru simply watched. When he reached a small lake, he was able to spot the glowing green swirl above the gray shrine, along with a goron pacing in front of it. Thank Hylia.

Building a boat with his ultrahand, Link sailed across the lake, feeling excitement when Daruk spotted him getting closer. The goron rushed to the shore where Link landed, and Link was quickly scooped into a tight hug.

“Link! You’re alive!” Daruk cheered, setting Link down and looking him over. “Sorry, little guy. Don’t mean to hurt you.”

Link smiled and gave him a reassuring nod. Daruk grinned and reeled back his arm, making Link brace himself as the large hand smacked his back harshly. He nearly fell from the impact, but Daruk caught him before he could hit the ground.

“I’m glad you’re ok, little guy.” Daruk said, holding him close. “We were so worried about you! Revali came by and told me that you were ok, but he didn’t say you were coming here.” Daruk rubbed his nose. “That rito, never telling me anything.”

Link nodded, not wanting to say that Revali actually told him to stay put.

“So why are you here, little guy? You looking for everyone?” Daruk asked, and Link shook his head. It was certainly something he wanted to do, but he needed to focus on getting into the white building. Link pointed to the shrine behind Daruk, and he gave him a knowing nod. “I see. I was wondering what that thing was. I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Link nodded, stepping towards the shrine and staring at the green magic circle that appeared. Touching the circle, the shrine opened up for Link, and Daruk gasped at the newly-made entrance, his eyes wide.

“Woah! How’d you do that?”

Link lifted up his arm to show Daruk, and the Goron champion gasped at the sight.

“Is your… arm ok?” He asked, a hint of timidness in his tone, as if he were afraid to ask. Link simply shrugged again, not knowing how to explain the arm that belonged to Rauru. Daruk stared for a moment, but his concern quickly melted away. “Well, it looks like it’s ok. Sorta.”

Link mustered up a smile and rested his arm to his side. Daruk looked between him and the newly opened shrine and he stepped back, inviting Link inside.

“I couldn’t fit in there if I tried, but I’ll be waiting out here for you!”

Link gave him a grateful nod and walked into the shrine, feeling relieved that Daruk was safe and waiting for him. He was like a rock for him—no pun intended—and Link always enjoyed his presence. Knowing that he was waiting for him outside brought him much comfort, which was exactly what he needed upon stepping into the shrine.

Though he was bracing himself for it, the burning feeling returned to him as soon as he entered, causing him to stumble and gasp in pain once again. This was going to get old real quick.

“Link.”

Rauru’s familiar voice spoke up, and Link stood up shakily, giving Rauru a nod.

“I’m happy you were able to find this shrine. Now, let’s waste no more time. Hold out your hand.”

Link obeyed, extending his right hand and allowing the Zonai magic to absorb into his arm. Curious about the new ability, Link glanced up at Rauru.

“This ability is called fuse. It allows you to… well… fuse something nearby to your weapon or shield, thereby enhancing it.” Rauru turned behind him, pointing at a sword laying on the ground. “Why not pick up that sword just ahead and then fuse a nearby object to it?”

Link swallowed, dragging himself to the sword. He was excited to have a real weapon finally, and he spotted a rock laying nearby which he assumed was the object Rauru wanted him to fuse. Closing his eyes, Link reached out, the familiar feeling of his arm extending to grab the rock, but Rauru let out a hum of disapproval.

“This isn’t ultrahand. This is fuse,” he said. “They’re similar, but where you stick things together temporarily with ultrahand, you permanently seal things together with fuse.”

Link frowned, dropping the rock and staring at the sword. It must’ve been similar to strengthening his swords and weapons, merging the weaker ones into the main one to make it stronger. He looked between the sword and the rock, his eyes narrowed as he tried to think how to awaken the fuse power. 

“Fuse is a bit complicated, but it’s like a very quick way to stick things together with ultrahand,” Rauru explained in an attempt to help Link understand it better.

He nodded, feeling more confident with that comparison—he just needed to be quick. Link stared at the rock again, this time extending the sword, and using the feeling of the blade, the magic, and the rock, he was able to quickly grab the rock and fuse it to the tip of his weapon. 

“My, you picked that up quick!” Rauru exclaimed, walking closer to him. “It’s a powerful ability, perfect for more long term things unlike ultrahand. But because you’re new at this, you may only be able to fuse small things together, like weapons with objects.”

Link tilted his head. If he got stronger, would he be able to fuse bigger things together like buildings? He thought about the buildings scattered across the island and wondered if they were all built by fuse. The Zonai were mysterious indeed, and it was no wonder why Zelda was so obsessed with them. 

“Make sure you think before you fuse, however,” Rauru warned, his turquoise eyes staring at Link, “if you fuse something you don’t want to be fused together, tearing them apart would be hard, and may end up destroying one or both objects. So just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Link nodded, staring at the rock sword in his hand. It not only looked different, but it felt different; it felt stronger. Glancing at the rock wall in front of him, Link confidently moved to it with his weapon raised. In one swing, the wall fell to pieces, crumbling at his feet from the force of his new rock sword. Satisfaction and excitement filled Link as he thought about the possibilities for fuse—the weapons he could create, how each object would strengthen the weapons, the possibilities were endless!

He heard Rauru chuckle behind him, clearly picking up on his excitement. 

“Fuse is a good ability, easily the most useful when you become strong enough. Let me show you something.”

Rauru led Link through the shrine, showing him a bush tucked away in a small room. The bush held glowing red fruit that Link had never seen before, and he stared in amazement while Rauru pointed to it.

“Fuse can work with arrows as well, try it out with the fire fruit.”

Link stared, picking off the fire fruit and observing it. It had dead leaves surrounding a warm, pulsing center. He was careful as he held it, not wanting it to combust, and he pocketed the fruits and looked up at dead leaves surrounding a chest on a wooden shelf. If this was a fire fruit, then maybe he could set the leaves on fire with it.

Using the bow and arrows he got from earlier, he pulled the string back, using the same feeling of fuse to merge the fire fruit and arrow together. The light brightened in front of him, intense heat making him sweat, and he released the arrow to the leaves where it immediately set ablaze. Incredible. Maybe the arm wasn’t such a bad thing after all if it gave him remarkable abilities like this.

When the chest fell, Link was able to open it to receive a key. He didn’t know the door ahead was locked, but he was glad he got the key first. Despite the excitement dulling the pain, he still felt weak and tired, so anything to make this shrine easier for him was appreciated. 

Unlocking the door and climbing a ladder on the other side, Link’s excitement went away when he saw a soldier construct, this one looking far more tough than any he’s fought before. 

“Oh no,” Rauru muttered, giving Link an apologetic look. “I forgot about the soldier constructs in the shrine…”

Link turned to Rauru. He forgot? This was a shrine, not a battle ground! What reason was there to having soldier constructs? The Sheikah shrines at least had small guardians to test him, but why here? 

“I’m so sorry, Link,” Rauru apologized, “I put the soldier constructs in the shrines to keep trespassers away. I didn’t think they’d still be here.”

Link groaned, holding up his rock sword and eyeing the construct as it began moving towards him. He just needed to focus on this battle.

Dodging an attack from the construct, Link swung his sword, his stiff and heavy limbs making him move slower than what he’d like. He landed a few hits on the construct before it swung at him again, and he was barely able to jump away in time. If he was feeling normal this battle would be easy, but he was clumsily moving around, barely dodging each swing his way. Fortunately though, his sword was enhanced and made it strong enough for him to defeat the construct in just a few hits, and it fell to pieces before him, with its own fused weapon falling to the ground. 

Then Link found himself lying face-up, with Rauru watching over him worriedly. Did he… pass out? 

“Are you alright?” Rauru asked, and Link attempted to sit up, his entire body feeling impossibly heavy. Rauru watched him for a moment, his arms out protectively as if he would be able to help him up. “You suddenly collapsed after you defeated the construct, and I got worried.”

Link rubbed his head, feeling nauseous. He needed to leave this place.

“The blessing is just up ahead, you’re almost there,” Rauru said, holding up one finger. “And no more constructs, I promise.”

Link nodded, feeling slightly relieved that there were no more constructs to fight, and he struggled to stand on his feet while Rauru lingered nearby. He was wishing the Zonai wasn’t a ghost so he could help him move to the end, but he couldn’t complain too much. Rauru was very helpful despite his ghostly state, and as long as he was by his side, he’d be able to drag himself to the light blessing.

“Your fighting is impeccable, Link,” Rauru commented as Link stood up, and he simply shrugged. It certainly wasn’t impeccable before with the way he was moving, but Rauru continued. “Despite your state, you fought well. I’m impressed.”

Link nodded, picking up his sword and the soldier construct’s weapon and moving forward, seeing Rauru follow out of the corner of his eye. 

Once Link reached the statue of Rauru and the Hylian woman, the feminine voice once again spoke to him, and the light blessing appeared before him. The fiery sensation of the gloom fighting back against the light flared up again, and he could feel himself threatening to pass out again, black spots pricking at his vision as he desperately reached out to the blessing. Then the pain subsided slightly, and he felt a warmth spread throughout his chest.

“May the light blessing grant you the strength you seek.” The voice said, and once again, Link felt himself leave the shrine, and he was back outside where Daruk patiently waited. As soon as the sun hit his eyes, Link felt himself waver, and he fell right into Daruk’s big hands.

“Woah! Are you ok, little guy?” Daruk asked, holding Link up as he leaned into him. Goddesses he was so tired…

“Ah, you always push yourself too hard,” Daruk muttered, carrying Link over to a tree and setting him down. “So how was the shrine thing? What’s going on with it?”

Link sighed, leaning back against Daruk with relief. He normally could handle overexerting himself, but with the gloom in him and fighting when he was already feeling unwell, he supposed it was too much. Rest was very much needed. Daruk stared at him for a moment while Link pointed to where the white building was, and he hummed.

“I see! With the shrines, we’ll be able to enter that building!”

Link nodded, and Daruk beamed, smiling at the white building.

“I assume the princess is in there; we’ll be able to get to her.”

Link nodded again, closing his eyes and leaning against Daruk. Once he got all the shrines, he and the champions would be reunited with Zelda, and they’d be able to find out what was happening with Hyrule. It’d certainly be nice to move past this island. Daruk pulled him closer, smiling down at him.

“You get some rest then, little guy. I’ll watch over you,” Daruk said softly, and Link took that as permission to fall into a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind blew through his hair, the sky a blood red as rain dripped down his face and into his eyes. He couldn’t see well, his vision blurry with tears as he looked around at the battlefield. The champions laid at his feet, eyes empty and dead, blood covering their lifeless bodies. He felt tears falling as he looked up to see the corpse from below the castle, watching him with hatred in its eyes, gloom pooling around it and facing him. Pain suddenly appeared in his abdomen, and he looked down to see blood pouring out of him, blood mixed with gloom that began to suck the very life out of him. He fell to his knees, watching helplessly as the corpse got closer. A boom was heard with each step, the piercing eyes never looking away from him. Another boom that made him flinch rang out, dread creeping throughout his body and grabbing hold of his very spirit. It was over, Hyrule was lost. The corpse raised the sword in its hand, the eyes never leaving him, and it swung down, making everything go black.

Boom.

Link flinched awake, sitting up and panting heavily from the nightmare. The loud booming sound was heard again, and he spun around to see Daruk fast asleep next to him, his snores sounding louder than thunder. He almost laughed, the snores entering his subconscious, but the way they were used in his nightmare made him unsettled. 

It was horrifying, the sight of the champions dead before him, and it was all due to the corpse they found earlier. Something they weren’t ever supposed to find. Link leaned forward, rubbing his face tiredly. It was dark outside, clearly deep into the night, and it was silent save for Daruk’s snores. Link must’ve been really exhausted to have slept so long. It was almost too long, with another shrine he still needed to find to get in the white building, along with finding Mipha. Every second away from her was agonizing. 

Despite the long rest, he didn’t feel any better; the anxiety from the dream before kept gnawing at him, and his stomach felt tight as he brought his knees to his chest, staring ahead of him blankly. It’d be wise to start moving during the day, especially while Daruk was awake, and he didn’t know where he was going, so he figured he’d have to wait for the morning.

He sat there for a moment, listening to Daruk’s snores that weren’t as distressingly loud now, and he heard a familiar noise to his side. A steward construct was moving towards him, something resting in its large hands.

“Link,” it greeted, bowing slightly and holding out a strange accessory with a capsule in a slot. There were several empty slots beneath it, and Link stood up to grab it. “I failed to give this to you, please take it,” it said, and Link wondered if this was the same construct that gave him the sheikah slate. Link bowed his head slightly in gratitude and the construct copied him, moving away while leaving him confused. What the heck was this thing?

“That’s an energy cell.”

Link spun around to see Rauru watching him. He supposed he should get used to the guy showing up out of nowhere. 

“Us Zonai invented technology that are scattered across this island,” Rauru began to explain, “but it runs off of our magic that we stored inside those energy cells. As long as you have that, you can use the technology whenever. But be cautious, because the energy may run out and will need time to recharge.”

Link hummed, clipping the energy cell on his belt next to the slate. It seemed useful enough, though he doubted he’d need to use it. Ultrahand and fuse were helpful enough already. 

“It looks like you’re feeling better,” Rauru commented, a gentle smile on his face, “I was worried, but with two light blessings, the next shrines should be easier to move through.”

Link smiled, giving Rauru a grateful nod. He hoped it was the case; he didn’t feel any difference with pain in the two shrines, but if he could feel even a little better with the third one, he’d be perfectly fine. 

“Speaking of, where are you headed to next?” Rauru asked, and Link shrugged. The zonai chuckled slightly and pointed to a cave nearby. “There’s a shrine in the colder region around here. If you enter that cave, it’ll put you on a path to it. With three light blessings, you should have enough strength to open the temple.”

Excitement spiked in Link’s chest, and he nodded. He was more than ready to find Zelda and leave. Rauru nodded back, glancing at Daruk and suddenly vanishing. Link stared, slightly confused, until he heard Daruk stir behind him, the goron sitting up with a confused look on his face.

“Who was that?” He asked, and Link held up his new arm. “Oh! Was that the spirit of the arm? Wait a second—” Daruk stood up, staring at the arm and the spot where Rauru was. “Was he the voice that spoke to us earlier?” Link frowned, and Daruk gave him a look. “The arm grabbed you and transported us up here from the castle, and a voice told us that you’d be ok.”

Oh right, Link forgot that Rauru technically spoke to the champions before. Link nodded, confirming Daruk’s suspicions. 

“Huh, well I guess he’s on our side then, yeah?” 

Link nodded again.

“Well good! We’ll need all the help we can get!” Daruk exclaimed, patting Link gently on the back, which he was grateful for. A normal pat from Daruk would’ve knocked Link out in his current state. “Well, I heard him talk about the shrines. The snowy area is where Revali spends a lot of his time. Hopefully he’s over there!”

Link nodded in agreement, though if he saw Revali, he’d definitely get an earful from the rito for not listening to him. Deep down he was hoping Mipha was there instead, but zora didn’t go to colder areas, so he knew it was false hope. Link looked at Daruk and pointed to the white building, deciding to move on and hoping Daruk understood what he was trying to say.

“You want me to go to the white building?” Daruk asked, and Link nodded. It’d be best if all the champions were together when he got strong enough, though Daruk looked uneasy.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok, little guy? You’re clearly not as strong as you were before.”

Link gave him a reassuring nod, giving Daruk a playful punch, which he probably didn’t feel. Now that he had some rest, he figured he’d be well enough to get to the next shrine, as long as it had no constructs. Daruk didn’t look convinced, but he finally accepted.

“I trust you, just be careful, ok?” He said firmly, and Link smiled, patting the goron’s giant arm. Daruk smiled back and watched as Link faced the direction to the cave, walking towards the mouth and standing for a moment. If there was one thing Link wasn’t at all comfortable with, it was caves. Really, any small space, seeing how it was hard to move around and fight enemies in a smaller area. But he needed to move forward. He gave Daruk a wave and headed inside, immediately feeling the cold and damp air hitting his face. The cave wasn’t as dark as he expected it to be, and he noticed some interesting flora in the cave that he’s never seen before. Granted, he was never one to observe plants like Zelda, but he was well familiar with them. These ones, however, were brand new to him. They looked like closed up seeds, around the size of his hand, and light was emanating from them, covered slightly by the leaves. He couldn’t help but pluck the plants from their spots, pocketing them just in case. Maybe they could be useful in a darker area; caves were normally darker than this one. 

Despite his unease, he looked around the cave, curious about other plants that were in there with him, and he spotted a chest against the wall. Opening it with excitement, he found more clothes, this time it being a green and tan sash. Struggling to put it on himself, it seemed to cover half his torso, while his right arm and chest were left bare. It didn’t cover him fully, but it was better than nothing, and the sash was quite comfortable.

Before he could leave the cave, he heard croaking and saw a glowing frog hopping on the ceiling, with it blowing bubbles at Link that pushed him away slightly. He couldn’t help but watch in confusion, curious about what the thing was. He’d never seen anything like it before as it hopped from side to side, blowing bubbles every so often. Deciding not to start a battle, Link held up his hands and backed away, finally leaving the musty cave. Relief swept over him when he felt the fresh air hit him, and he spotted another lake right in front of him. He was going to build another boat like before, but he spotted steward constructs around strange contraptions, and he felt inclined to see what they were up to.

The constructs greeted him and explained zonai technology, which Link remembered for his conversation with Rauru earlier. Deciding to test out the technology, Link built a boat with a supposed fan on the back, and with its activation, strong air blew and sent Link and the boat to the other side with ease. He now understood why Rauru gave him the energy cell, since ultrahand and fuse wouldn’t do much with technology that needed activation.

This journey to the next shrine was going slightly better, with the path being more linear for him as he walked to yet another cave. A minecart rested at the entrance with fans laying beside it, and he immediately used ultrahand to stick the two together. Hopping in the cart, he activated the fan and held tight to the cart as he went flying down the rail. But this cave was much different than the other before, and he was quickly plunged into darkness that sent his heart to his throat. 

A string of curses left his mouth as he clung tightly to the cart, ducking down to protect his head as he went flying through the dark cave. If he had known that it’d get this dark, he wouldn’t have jumped into a cart!

Bracing himself, the cart finally hit something that stopped it, and he opened his eyes to see light shining amongst the darkness, with more stewards working. One noticed him and began to float over to him, bowing its head.

“Hello,” it greeted, and Link bowed his head back, crawling out of the minecart. The steward construct gestured for him to follow it to the fiery furnace, allowing Link to see the glowing green ore in the cave. 

“I hope you have brightbloom seeds with you,” the construct started, “you’d be lost in here without them.”

Link frowned, not knowing what brightbloom seeds were. The construct pointed to a bundle of the seeds he found before, and he pulled out the ones he pocketed.

“Good, you have some,” the construct said. “If you throw it or attach it to an arrow, it will open and light up the surrounding area. Useful for dark areas like this.”

Link’s mouth fell open, looking at the seed in surprise. That was useful. Clutching the seed in his hand, he reeled his arm back and threw it into the darkness, and just like the steward construct said, it exploded into light, revealing the plants on the cave walls and illuminating the ore. That was very nice; he thought he would have to use the limited light from the seed to see, but he supposed there was a lot more to the plant than he realized. Truthfully, there was a lot more to the island in general.

Giving the construct a grateful bow, Link headed off into the dark cave, using the seeds whenever he needed light. The island was big, but soon everything began to repeat itself to Link. Trees, zonai technology, steward constructs, huts, and soldier constructs seemed to repeat themselves wherever Link went. Until he made it to the snowy area on the island, and he realized that he was woefully unprepared for it. The clothes he was wearing were nice but they were not built for colder climates. They barely covered his skin as it was! Looking at the snow, then back at where he came from, he let out a sigh. He was losing his patience, and he didn’t want to go on another fetch quest to find warmer clothes. He was just going to have to bear it. 

Letting out a breath, Link ran into the snow, immediately feeling the frigid cold on his bare skin. His toes went numb immediately as the snow piled onto them, and Link wanted to simply curl up, but he kept going. He couldn’t stop moving, or else he’d freeze to death. Running through the snow, Link avoided constructs and ice chuchus, running into caves that were pleasantly warmer than the outside, and eventually he found himself staring at an ice wall, the shrine sitting right on top of it.

Link was a remarkable climber, but not even he would be able to climb up the icy walls that led to the shrine he needed to get to. He circled the shrine, staring up at it in frustration and trying to think of ways for him to climb up there. Just as he was about to find something to use his ultrahand on, he heard familiar flapping behind him, and a cursing rito landed right next to him. Link turned to him and smiled at Revali, who was glaring back at him with his wings crossed.

“Is that thick skull of yours incapable of listening or something?” He started to shout, getting close to Link and pointing his wings at him. “I told you to stay put! And what do I find when I return to get you? Absolutely nothing!” 

Revali’s wing swung in frustration, his other one resting on his waist. Link simply looked down, expecting this anger from Revali, but he couldn’t sit around no matter how injured he was. The rito had to understand that. 

“And look at you! You’re wearing absolutely nothing!” Revali looked at Link’s clothes, a disgusted look on his face. “You must be stupid or something traveling through here in that!”

Link sighed, already annoyed with the conversation, and he turned to look at the shrine. Revali finally stopped ranting and looked up to where Link stared, and he let out a sigh.

“Do you need to go up there?” He asked, rather begrudgingly, and Link nodded, hoping he’d at least give him a ride. Revali rolled his eyes and let out a groan, crossing his wings and facing away. “Because you almost died before I’ll help you up there. Just this once though, you hear?”

Link gave him a grateful nod, waiting for Revali to kneel down for him to climb onto his back or something, but instead the rito took to the skies, grabbing what little fabric Link had on him in his talons and plopping him right next to the shrine. Link let out a grunt as he fell to his side, his skin going numb from touching the snow, and he scrambled to his feet to give Revali a glare.

“What? I got you up here, didn’t I?” 

Link sighed, moving towards the magic circle, activating it, and entering the shrine, not caring about Revali’s reaction to the sudden opening. Once again, he braced himself for the pain, but to his relief, the pain had subsided a bit, at least a bit more compared to the last two shrines. However, he was still in excruciating pain, and he inhaled sharply.

“This is it, Link.” Rauru appeared before him, holding out his hand. “Just this one and you’ll be able to enter the Temple of Time.”

Motivated to reunite with the princess, Link held out his hand, the dizziness already beginning to overwhelm him, and the magic sunk itself into the palm. Link glanced up at Rauru, waiting for an explanation. He was almost excited to see what this new ability was.

“What you just received is the ascend ability,” Rauru began to explain, “it lets you travel through what’s directly above you—to ascend through it and emerge on top of it. You’ll find it quite useful in all sorts of places and situations.”

Link looked down at his hand. That did sound useful, but he wondered how he’d be able to do it. 

“Come, Link, test it out here,” Rauru invited, guiding him to a low-hanging ceiling. “Jump straight through and you’ll be on top of it. It comes naturally, trust me.”

Link let out a breath, pointed his right arm to the ceiling, and jumped. Landing on his feet, Link looked down at his arm and up at Rauru, confused.

“Make sure you focus magic on yourself and where you’ll want to go,” Rauru added, and he nodded, pointing his arm again and jumping weakly. Once again, he landed on his feet, not ascending through anything. Link gave Rauru a pleading look, having no strength to struggle through this. Rauru nodded and pointed at the ceiling, his tall figure reaching it with ease. “You need the magic to essentially soften the ceiling. It will temporarily turn it into zonai magic, allowing you to travel through. Start by focusing the magic on the ceiling.” 

Link pointed to the ceiling, focusing the familiar magic of the ultrahand and fuse on the spot he was looking up. His arm quickly began to tingle, burning from it being raised, but he tried to focus. The arm glowed, the green magic leaving it and resting on the ceiling. Soon a green circle rippled right above Link, and Rauru let out a hum of approval.

“That’s it. Do you see that circle? That’s the path you will be allowed to travel through. Now ascend.”

Link nodded, letting out a small exhale before imagining the magic reaching down to him, and he suddenly felt himself being pulled up into the green circle. He held his breath instinctively, closing his eyes as if he were jumping into water, but instead he found himself in a strange green world, swirls of zonai magic surrounding him. He was able to breathe normally, but he certainly didn’t feel normal. There was something pressing down on him, making it feel like he was underwater, and he realized he was hanging halfway down the ceiling. With a strong kick, Link was able to fully enter the ceiling, his hand guiding him through the zonai magic. Kicking his legs made the small trip go faster, and soon a bright light appeared from the end of the ceiling, and Link found himself halfway emerged, the magic still rippling through the ceiling. 

“Look at that, you ascended,” Rauru cheered, a small smile on his face. Link smiled back, dragging himself out of the strange dimension below. “Told you it came naturally.”

Link certainly wouldn’t consider it coming natural to him—it felt very odd—but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t find it fascinating. The rest of the shrine was simply jumping through ceilings and getting from place to place, with it being relatively simple for him. Though, unlike ultrahand and fuse, it required a lot of physical effort to successfully travel through, and by the end he was downright exhausted, once again feeling like he was about to pass out. But at least he wasn’t cold anymore.

“Nice work. You have some natural talent to you,” Rauru said, giving Link a proud look. “You’re strong, and it’s no wonder why you’re called the hero.”

Link stared for a moment, his brows furrowed as Rauru looked away. How did he know he was the hero?  Of course, before Link could even attempt in asking him about it, Rauru disappeared before his eyes, as if not wanting to explain his comment, and Link was left alone in front of the statues. He hesitated for a moment in front of the green circle, knowing what was to come once the light blessing appeared, but he pushed forward, knowing that it would do nothing but help him. Touching the magic circle, the statues were once again revealed, the light blessing appearing before him. Not wasting one second, Link reached for the light blessing, gritting his teeth as the gloom within him squirmed and wriggled against it. He grabbed the light blessing finally, the gloom being forced out of him as the light warmed his whole being, and he was sent away out of the shrine. 

The cold shocked him to his core, and he practically crumpled to the ground as his whole body went numb. He made a grave mistake coming here without any winter clothes, that was for sure.

“Well well, look who decided to finally return.”

Link looked up to see Revali simply standing above him, an annoyed look on his face. 

“You could’ve warned me before you decided to march right into that shrine! Honestly, do you know how confused I was standing out here? Not knowing whether to leave or stay? What were you doing in there anyways?”

Link swallowed, standing up slowly and giving him a glare. The last thing he needed was to appear vulnerable in front of Revali, so he attempted to hide his shivering. Which didn’t work. The rito stared at him bemused, looking up and down his frozen figure, and he let out an annoyed sigh. 

“You’re so pathetic, climb on.” Revali turned around and knelt to the ground, inviting Link to climb onto his back. “This is the only time I’m allowing this, you hear?”

Link stared for a moment, debating on actually taking Revali’s offer, but the cold convinced him and he was quickly on the rito’s back. Admittedly, he was a little worried about his weight against him—Revali wasn’t exactly the biggest or strongest rito around, and Link was almost the same size as him. But he took to the skies safely, gliding down to the warmer region in front of the Temple of Time. The two landed, and Link slid off of Revali’s back, giving him a grateful pat while the rito let out a groan.

“Ugh, my back,” he complained, and Link rolled his eyes. 

“Hey!”

The voices of Urbosa and Daruk calling to them drew their attention, and they all met up with each other.

“Did you do it? Did you visit the shrines?” Urbosa asked breathlessly, and Link nodded, holding up his arm.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Revali asked.

“Link needed to visit the shrines of the island to get into the white building,” Urbosa quickly explained, already turning to it.

“Wait, what?” Revali turned to Link. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped out more, you know!” 

“Oh quit your squawking, Revali. Let’s just get into the temple and find Zelda!” 

“Hold on.” Daruk stopped, holding out his hands to stop everyone. “What about little Mipha? She needs to be here too, right?”

It grew silent, and Urbosa turned to Link. “Did you ever see Mipha?”

Link shook his head, and she nodded.

“Alright. Revali, go find Mipha. We’re going to get into the building.”

Revali seemed hesitant, but he knew better than to argue with Urbosa, and he took to the skies once again with the others watching.

“Come on Link, let’s get Zelda,” Urbosa pressed, practically dragging him to the Temple of Time. Once again in front of the large, white doors, Link touched the magic circle gently. He admittedly was feeling anxious—whether it was nervousness or excitement, he didn’t know—and the magic circle giving way made his heartbeat spike. It opened.

The doors shuttered, dust and particles falling into their faces as they moved apart, and finally, they were inside. The lighting was warm, with the sound of wheels turning straight ahead of them, and a glowing stone floating right before them. 

“Zelda? ZELDA!” Daruk called out, moving away in an attempt to find the princess, and Urbosa did the same.

“Zelda! We’re here!” She yelled, but there was no response. While the two scrambled around the temple, Link’s eyes were fixated on the stone, as if it were beckoning for him to come closer, and he reached out to touch it.

Before his very eyes, the room he was in disappeared, replaced by an ethereal plane with fog covering everything, except for him and her—Zelda.

Link’s eyes widened when he saw her, but he didn’t move, for her behavior confused him. She was floating above the ground, her chin pointed high, and her eyes closed. Her hands were clutched at her chest as if holding something, and when he stepped closer, her arm held out to him. Link stared, his brows furrowed as if he’d never seen such a thing before. Cautiously resting the new hand in hers, a golden light appeared from her, traveling from her arm to his. Then she let go, her hand returning to her other one, still not looking at Link to his confusion. Glancing down, Link noticed a symbol appearing on his hand, right in the center within the circular jewelry. He looked back up at Zelda, opening his mouth to ask her what was going on, but instead the world around him vanished, and he found himself back in the Temple of Time, with a baffled looking Urbosa and Daruk watching him.

“What was that? What happened?” Urbosa asked, and Link looked up to find the stone gone. 

“Where is she? I thought she’d be here!” Daruk said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“I thought the same thing, but she’s clearly not.”

“No… no wait, there’s a door up ahead!” Daruk pointed to a large door on the higher level, and he and Urbosa wasted no time in running to it, effortlessly climbing over the wheels and running to it while Link simply stayed behind, his eyes on his hand. It all felt strange to him, the way Zelda acted before, the strange temple, everything. In a way, he almost felt… sad. They weren’t going to find Zelda here.

“Link.”

He turned to see Rauru watching him, a confused expression on his face as he watched Daruk and Urbosa try to open the door.

“It seems you got a new ability,” he muttered, gesturing to his hand. Link looked down again, staring at the strange symbol. “It’s recall: the ability to reverse the movement of an object through time.”

Link watched him, almost desperate for him to answer his questions, but Rauru simply sighed.

“What you just saw before, is a mystery even to me. I was expecting Zelda to be here as well, but it seems that isn’t the case.” He faced where the stone used to be, his eyes narrowed. “Perhaps it was a sort of echo—one that reflects her sheer will.”

Rauru’s voice was low and quiet, almost as if he were speaking out of respect, and he stood motionless for a while. The sounds of Urbosa and Daruk struggling filled the air, and after a long moment, Rauru turned to Link.

“I wish I could teach you how to use recall, but that was an ability I never learned to use. But it no doubt will prove useful to you.”

Link nodded, moving to join Urbosa and Daruk, but Rauru quickly stopped him.

“The door they are trying to open tests your vitality. They cannot open it, but you can. Yet you remain in a weakened state and will fall before you are able to do so.”

Link practically felt himself slump, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. What was the point of everything he just went through? What was the reason he was sent to run across the floating island, if he got nothing out of it? He thought they’d find Zelda, he thought they’d be able to leave and find out what was happening to Hyrule, but were they to remain stuck here? All because Link wasn’t… strong enough?

Rauru picked up on his despair, and he let out a small laugh. “Do not fret, Link. There is one more shrine on this island. I didn’t think it’d be needed, but I see now I was wrong.” Rauru turned to look up into the sky, with Link following his gaze. “The shrine is where you first awoke. I’m sure if you get the light blessing, you may find your way forward. And you may find Zelda.”

Link stared, hope sparking within him once again. It was small, but it was better than nothing. The flapping of wings interrupted them, and Rauru once again vanished before him as Revali landed.

“You got it open!” He exclaimed, his eyes looking around before landing on Link. “Did you find Zelda?”

Link shook his head solemnly, and he looked around Revali to see if he could spot Mipha. He didn’t.

“I searched high and low. I couldn’t find Mipha,” Revali explained as Link searched. “I’m sorry.”

She must be where the last shrine is, Link thought, looking up at the sky. He turned to Revali and pointed at the highest sky island, hoping he’d understand what he was trying to say.

“You… want up?”

Link nodded.

Revali gave him an annoyed look. “I told you, it was a one time thing! I’m not flying you around like some… chauffeur!” 

“What’s going on?”

The two saw Urbosa walking towards them, her brows furrowed as she stared. Link pointed at the sky again, which she looked to.

“Is there another shrine?”

Link nodded.

“Will this get us past that door?”

He nodded again.

Urbosa frowned, looking right at Revali. “You fly him up there, understand? We need to get to Zelda and the only way is for Link to get stronger!”

Revali scoffed, turning away with his wings crossed, but he listened to Urbosa and knelt to the ground.

“Fine! I’m only doing this for Zelda though, so don’t get used to this!”

Link climbed atop Revali once again, giving Urbosa a nod as Revali took to the skies. He could tell the rito was struggling to reach the height they needed to, but with the help of the wind, the two landed back on the island Link first woke up on, right on the platform that he dived off of before. 

“Is this the place?” Revali asked, and Link nodded, heading into the building. “I’ll see you at the temple then.”

Link looked behind him and gave Revali a nod, and he ran, desperate to get to the final shrine. It was much more difficult moving through the place compared to the first time, with him not only having to swim, but also having to climb up walls to reach where he needed to get to. It took a moment, but Link finally found himself in the big room where the gears turned, and right in front of him, he spotted a small, red zora, with her back facing to him.

“Mipha!” Link exclaimed, and she spun around, her mouth agape and her eyes wide. Unable to hold himself back, Link sprinted to her, her meeting him halfway, and he scooped her up into a hug and spun her around. Finally…

“Link! You’re ok!” Mipha cried, her arms tight around his neck as if she were afraid to let him go. The two held each other for a long moment, relishing in each other’s presence, until Link pulled back and pressed his lips against hers. She practically melted into the kiss, the world around them disappearing as they only focused on each other. 

Mipha finally pulled away, her eyes wide and frantically searching his body. “What happened? I saw this building open and I tried to find you, but you weren’t here. I was so worried.”

Link gave her a peck and rested his head against hers. “I’m sorry. I would’ve stayed if I had known.”

Mipha shook her head, a smile on her small lips. “I’m just relieved to see you alright. When we arrived here you…” Mipha sighed, looking down. “You were on the verge of death. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t heal you.”

Link frowned, watching her hands rub against his chest anxiously. It must’ve been the gloom that stopped her magic, which made him nervous. Was light magic the only way to survive the substance?

“Your arm!”

Link looked down at his arm for the millionth time, Mipha tracing her delicate fingers along the markings and jewelry. 

“It’s not mine,” Link explained, “I’m borrowing it.”

Mipha stared, his quick explanation clearly explaining nothing for her. He chuckled slightly, pulling the arm away and taking a small step back. 

“It saved my life. Don’t worry.”

Mipha didn’t look relieved, but she still smiled, her beautiful and small smile. Ever since the Calamity, the two had chosen to spend more time together, knowing that they almost lost the chance to when it first attacked. He was nervous to do so—he didn’t know how he was going to feel, how he was going to be treated by others, and how the friendship between him and Mipha would change. But it changed for the better. Mipha moved things slow, which was exactly what he needed, and her strong, comforting personality made spending time with her incredible. He always felt drained around others, needing alone time whenever he got too fatigued to play the role of the hero, but Mipha took that stress and obligation away from him, almost making him feel refreshed whenever he spent time with her. Safe to say, he’s fallen madly in love with her over the past few months.

“Do the other champions know?” Mipha asked after a moment of silence, and Link nodded.

“I saw them all. I’ve been collecting light blessings to regain my strength that the gloom took from me.”

Mipha frowned. “Is it helping?”

“Yes. The only way to dispel the gloom from me is with these light blessings.” Link shuffled his feet, looking up at the turning gears. “I need to go to one more shrine to get through a door at a white building, where we can hopefully find out about Zelda.”

“Zelda!” Mipha covered her mouth, standing close to Link. “The others theorized that she’d be in the large white building. Do you think she’s there?”

Link sighed, looking down at the ground. It was all so complicated, so much so he couldn’t really understand what was going on. He turned to Mipha after a moment and gestured to the gears.

“Help me up there and I’ll tell you everything,” he said simply, and Mipha nodded, wrapping an arm around Link’s waist and summoning a strong fountain of water, allowing the two to jump onto the tall ledge. And Link explained everything to Mipha as they walked. Rauru, the shrines, the temple, the constructs, and Zelda in the strange realm from earlier. He explained it all while she listened intently, staring straight ahead while they walked. They were able to reach the final shrine, and Mipha finally decided to speak up.

“So… Zelda isn’t here then?” She asked glumly, and Link sighed, shaking his head solemnly. The others still had hope, but the weird vision he had before made him believe otherwise. It was too strange…

Link walked up to the shrine, activating the magic circle and creating an opening. He turned to Mipha, gesturing for her to stay put, and she nodded, though rather reluctantly.

“Please be careful, Link,” she pleaded, and he nodded, smiling at her and heading inside. As much as he’d love to bring her with him, it’d just be too much to worry about. Especially when the familiar pain of the gloom flared up inside him appeared, causing him to waver. Though he didn’t stumble this time around.

“Link.”

He looked up to see Rauru once again watching him, but he didn’t gesture for him to hold up his hand. Instead he turned towards the shrine where many gears and wheels appeared.

“I’m not sure how much help I can be with this new ability of yours,” he muttered, his hands fidgeting with each other. “It was an ability my… my wife had.”

Link stared, immediately thinking back to the Hylian statue that stood next to him at the end of the shrines. This was the first time Rauru mentioned her.

Rauru sucked in a breath and nodded, clearly pushing aside his emotions. “From what I understand, she simply turned the time on an object and returned them to their original place.” He turned to the wheels turning in the shrine, and he pointed at them. “I’m sure you could make them spin the opposite direction to get where you need to go. But, I’m afraid that’s all I can share with you.”

Link nodded, grateful for the advice. He stepped closer to the wheels, staring for a long moment as they turned. If Rauru didn’t have this ability, then it probably wasn’t based on the zonai magic he was becoming used to, which would make things tricky. For a few minutes, Link stood in front of the wheel, trying to connect to it to reverse time, but it wasn’t having it, stubbornly turning the way it was originally intended. Link was growing frustrated at the lack of progress, his body growing weaker and weaker the longer he was in the shrine, all while Rauru watched from the side. He seemed more down this time around, not speaking up or giving any encouragement he gave before. Link did want a little bit more support, but he didn’t want to make Rauru agitated. So he suffered in silence, trying to activate the recall ability. After a moment, he sighed, rubbing his aching head. He was getting nowhere…

“Link…”

Link opened his eyes, looking up and around the shrine. The voice from before, the feminine one, said his name. He strained his long ears, trying to hear the voice again, glancing at Rauru to see if he noticed, but he didn’t.

“Link,” the voice spoke up again, and he looked up at the ceiling of the shrine, listening intently. “Try to connect to the wheel in front of you. Allow it to tell you where it once was…”

Link blinked, once again turning to Rauru to see if he reacted, but he didn’t. Instead the zonai was staring into space. Link turned back to the wheel, taking the voice’s advice to heart, and he held out his hand, closing his eyes. It felt awkward, opening himself up to something speaking to him, but it worked. In his mind, he saw a vision of where the wheel once was, the time reversing for him to see the path it went. As if pressing the screen on the Sheikah slate, Link touched the wheel in the vision, and when he opened his eyes, the world around him was frozen, the wheel beginning to reverse back to its previous state. With a gasp, Link quickly jumped onto it, allowing it to carry him forward. He landed on his feet when he got over the wheel, and Rauru appeared right beside him.

“It looks like you figured it out. Nice work,” he congratulated, a small smile on his face. “It should be easy from here on out.”

Link nodded and began to move through the shrine, using his other abilities and recall to his advantage. Rauru was quiet for most of the shrine, save for the few words of encouragement, but when Link used recall again, he finally spoke up.

“So… you and that zora girl?” he asked, and Link spun around with his face growing warm. Rauru chuckled, raising a hand in defense. “You must forgive me, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. It’s the most I’ve ever heard you speak.”

Link looked down, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Though Link felt rather attached to Mipha, being public with her still made him (and her) feel uneasy. There was a stigma around the races of Hyrule intermingling, and they knew they would be met with scorn if people found out about them. Link especially was anxious over it, with enough eyes already watching and judging him. Rauru picked up on his uneasiness and he looked away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s clear you mean a lot to each other.” Link nodded slightly, still feeling uneasy. Rauru closed his eyes, going silent for a moment. “Keep a watchful eye on her. Keep her safe.”

Link paused, looking up at him. There was pain in his voice, a hurt expression on his face, and he suddenly disappeared before Link, right when they arrived at the end. The more time he spent with Rauru, the more confusing the zonai got for him.

As soon as Link got the light blessing, the gloom was sent out of him and he was taken back to the entrance, where Mipha waited patiently. As soon as she saw him, she rushed to his side, helping him stand as he wavered slightly. 

“Are you alright? You were in there for so long!” Mipha asked, grabbing onto him and pulling him close. Link nodded, too tired to speak, and he began moving to an opening, knowing that it was time to return to the temple. He didn’t think they’d find Zelda, but he knew that they would find something important. Mipha simply followed, not pressing for him to speak further, and they stepped outside to find themselves by strange bird-contraptions. Mipha wasted no time in leading Link to it, and she positioned it against the slope so it would glide off. Link helped her, not knowing what she was doing, and when he gave her a look, she finally explained herself.

“These things glide through the air! I take it we need to go to the white building, yes?” 

Link nodded, understanding now what Mipha was trying to do, and the couple pushed the bird down the slope, both clinging on for dear life as it flew off of the island, and they were airborne. 

“It’s a bit terrifying… I will admit,” Mipha yelled out against the wind, her voice shaking slightly, and Link wrapped his arm around her to keep her more secure. She giggled and rested her head against his shoulder, noticeably relaxing into him. “Thank you.”

Link helped lean the glider forwards so it would reach the temple faster, and soon they landed right in front of the temple, where the rest of the champions waited. They let him walk past him, and he soon began reversing time for the gears on the side, climbing over them and jogging up to a Hylia statue. He was about to move past it until it spoke to him.

“Hero, give me your light blessings, and I will make you stronger.”

Link paused, staring at the statue for a long moment, almost not hearing the words. Unlike the voice from the shrine, there was no voice, but more of a feeling saying things to him. Walking closer to the statue, he bowed his head slightly and prayed to the goddesses, not knowing what he was praying about. A warm feeling enveloped him as he prayed, and he felt the gloom moving in his body once again. But instead of it fighting back against the light, it felt like it was shriveling up, simply not powerful enough to fight back against the divine light. Then the feeling disappeared, and Link watched as more gloom left his body, his entire being feeling stronger than before.

“What was that?” He heard Revali ask from behind him, and Link stared at his hands, walking up to the door and pushing it with all his might. He felt the strength within him beginning to leave, but just as he was about to collapse, the door budged open, and they could see out in front of them.

The champions were all silent as they walked past the large door, the sun setting behind the horizon, giving the sky a beautiful orange hue. A structure stood in front of them with glowing magic swirling on a pedestal, and just as Link expected, there was no Zelda.

“There’s nothing here,” Daruk commented, disappointment in his voice. 

The others remained silent, but Revali flew to the structure, with everyone following closely behind, save for Link.

“I’m glad to see that you were able to open the door,” Rauru’s voice was heard behind him, and Link turned to see him standing against the wall, staring at the newly opened door. He turned back to Link. “Are you feeling better? You seem to have more strength in your step.”

Link nodded, admittedly feeling a little better, though not back to normal. Rauru stared for a moment, then nodded.

“You haven’t fully recovered, but that was to be expected. You were almost beyond saving.” 

Link instinctively looked down at his arm, knowing how the gloom felt within him before. It really didn’t surprise him. 

“The shrines and light blessings were able to remove most of the gloom ailing you, which is a good thing,” Rauru continued, and his gaze softened. “I’m glad to have finally met you. You’re just as Zelda said.”

Link frowned, his curiosity getting the better of him. “How do you know Zelda?” He asked, and Rauru’s eyes widened slightly, but he smiled at him.

“She came into my life when Hyrule was just beginning to grow,” he simply answered, looking out into the dimming orange sky. “The Zelda you know was taken to the past, my era, the founding of Hyrule. But that was a long time ago, I do not know where she is now.”

Link blinked, staring at Rauru for a moment. “In… the past?” He repeated, and Rauru nodded.

“Yes. Zelda has a lot of power within her. Divine light magic, and time magic. She sent herself to the founding of Hyrule when she took my secret stone.” Rauru looked at him, a serious look in his eyes. “Link, listen closely. During my life, I fought the Gerudo King Ganondorf, one who stole power that didn’t belong to him and tried to destroy my kingdom.”

Dread rested within Link’s stomach, immediately thinking about Calamity Ganon, one who nearly destroyed everything he loved.

“I was only able to seal him away,” Rauru continued, “for many centuries it seems, but he broke free, and now your era is danger.” Rauru’s breath hitched, and he looked down in shame. “I am part to blame for it. I have passed on, and I cannot move freely as a spirit, but I am attached to my arm. Please…” Rauru bowed down to Link, and he couldn’t help but step back. “Please, let me fix the mistake I made, let me help you defeat him once and for all.”

Link stared at Rauru for a long moment, in shock from everything he was just told. Zelda was in the past it seemed, but would she be able to return? And the name Ganondorf, was that the corpse from before? From what it sounded like, Rauru was a king, possibly the first king of Hyrule. Ancient history was merging with the present, and Link didn’t feel like he was well enough to deal with it. 

“Ok,” Link finally said, and Rauru looked up at him, a smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and he disappeared before Link’s eyes. Looking down at his arm, Link could practically feel Rauru’s presence in there. It was probably why he was always near Link, finding him whenever he needed to. Turning to the champions, Link jogged to where they were, climbing and jumping over the broken bridge. Using ascend, Link was able to reach the platform the champions stood on, and they all jumped back in surprise.

“Link!” Urbosa yelled, watching as he crawled out of the floor. “Since when could you do that?”

Link pointed to his arm, then stared at the glowing yellow magic before him. The champions decidedly moved past the zonai magic Link now had, and Mipha gestured to it.

“We’re trying to figure out what it is. We can’t help but feel some connection to Zelda with it.”

Link looked over at Mipha, then at the magic, and he suddenly felt the presence of the decayed Master Sword on his back. The sword chimed weakly, matching the pulsing light of the magic, and Link pulled out the sword. The chiming grew stronger, and the magic grew brighter, and when the two touched, the night sky around him faded into a bright blue sky, where Zelda watched with a shocked look on her face. The sword disappeared from Link’s hands, and reappeared into Zelda’s outstretched ones. She gasped when it landed, staring in amazement at the decayed sword, acting like her curious self once again. Her hand traced along the blade, listening to the chiming of the spirit within, and she hugged it, determination on her face. Then she was gone once again, and Link was back with the champions, the sky completely dark now.

“What happened to the sword?” Daruk asked in amazement, and Link looked down to find that indeed, the Master Sword was gone. Before he could even think about what happened, however, a loud boom was heard, along with a loud roar, and the champions all turned to see the white dragon descending to the sky, the clouds parting for it. The clouds all faded away, revealing their land of Hyrule, and the dragon cried out again, diving to the land below as if leading them to it. The champions all watched in amazement, and the familiar sound of the princess’s voice was heard.

“You must find me.”

The dragon flew further and further away from them as the champions stared, and Link turned to look at all of them. His eyes locked with Urbosa’s, and they both nodded in agreement. They could finally leave the island.

“Champions,” Urbosa started, stepping closer to the edge with her hands on her hips. “Let’s get to Hyrule.”

[st-hedge]

Knees are weak hands are sweaty, 30k words and 12 chapters later, I’m at the final section of the fic for these two. I’m very excited to throw it into internet existence very soon