#lu yiga

[unexpectedstormy]

Stew Pot Plot pt 4

Alternate Whumptober prompt #9: Drugging -- Time, Everyone

TW -- drugging, unconsciousness

733 words

Read it here or on AO3!

******

Time brought the ocarina to his lips and played the Sonata of Awakening.

“THAT ONE’S AWAKE!” One of the Yiga yelled shrilly. “STOP HIM!”

As Time let the ocarina fall away from his lips and come to rest on his chest, the magic of the song swirled around the camp repeating and echoing in the wind, rousing the sleeping heroes.

“Uh oh, what’s going on? What kind of magic is that?!” The other Yiga exclaimed as all around them, the heroes stirred and opened their eyes.

Time himself felt his strength return in a wave and his mind cleared. He pushed himself up as the last of the tiredness vanished. He swiftly lit a lantern and illuminated the sleepy camp and the red-clad invaders.

“What’s going on?” Hyrule asked stretching.

“Who are you?” Wind asked the stranger in red backing away from the camp.

“That’s a Yiga!” Wild exclaimed, suddenly very alert. “Asssassins!”

“Everyone up on your feet!” Time ordered. Legend was on his feet firing off an arrow before Time even finished his sentence. One of the Yiga grunted and clutched at the arrow protruding from their shoulder.

“Abort! Abort! Mission abort!” The Yiga yelled.

“I told you this wouldn’t work!” The other shouted in reply and fired an arrow back at Legend. Warriors lifted his shield just in time to save Legend from getting skewered and the arrow thudded embedded into it.

Thunder rumbled louder and louder and had the heroes and Yiga alike looking up into the sky above and the dark cliffsides searching for whatever storm or landslide or earthquake was the source of the noise.

A fierce and angry neighing and the pounding of hooves startled the heroes and Yiga and Epona charged into the camp leading a herd of wild horses, galloped straight at the Yiga with righteous fury.

“You haven’t seen the last of us! We’ll get you, Hero!” The Yiga screamed and vanished into the cloud of kicked-up dust and stampeding horses. The horses continued to circle and stamp and make angry horse noises for another minute as the rest of the heroes got to their feet, weapons in hand, searching for the enemy looking confused.

“What just happened?” Sky asked when the dust and the horses settled.

“I found a packet of sleeping herbs in the stew: we were unknowingly drugged and the Yiga tried to capture us,” Time explained and motioned to the herd of horses that now encircled the camp. “I told Epona to go get help, and she did.”

“If we were drugged unconscious, how are we awake now?” Warriors asked.

“I played the Sonata of Awakening” Time said holding up his ocarina. “You can stand down now, the danger has passed.”

“That explains why I fell asleep in the middle of cooking last night,” Wild said. “I kept tasting the stew as I went along to make sure everything was cooking alright.”

“You must have tasted a LOT of it to get knocked out like you did,” Hyrule said.

“Uhh maybe??” Wild grinned sheepishly. “What? I was hungry.”

“I don’t feel sleepy anymore, not even a little bit,” Wind said. “Which is weird because I was suuuuper tired earlier and it’s still the middle of the night.”

“That’s a side effect of the song; no one is going to get any more sleep tonight,” Time admitted.

“Strangely, I’m not even upset about it,” Sky said. “I’m completely wide awake… you should play that song more often.”

“What do you guys think about leaving and heading on to the stable now?” Four asked.

“Thanks to Epona, we now have enough horses for all of us to ride,” Twilight said rubbing Epona’s nose and slipping her a little treat from his pocket.

“We can make it to Gerudo Canyon Stable in no time at all on horseback,” Wild said. “As long as you guys can tame the wild horses.”

“Shouldn’t be any trouble at all,” Twilight said, already trying to pet and befriend the blue spotted horse, much to Epona’s annoyance.

“Breakfast at the stable?” Wind suggested. “A biiig breakfast? I’m hungry again.”

“Again? Already?” Legend said.

“Yep, growth spurt for sure,” Warriors laughed.

“I’m just glad we didn’t get captured and no one got hurt,” Sky said. “Thank you, Time.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Epona,” Time said. “Shall we get ready to go?”

“Breakfast! Breakfast! Breakfast!” Wind chanted and everyone laughed.

The End.

[paquerette-san]

I love the fact that Link is such a gremlin.

So much that he ends up being an important figure of the Yiga clan, knowing their secret techniques and everything.

I see him travelling, disguising himself as a Yiga and going to chat with them, even after the end of Ganondorf. He would be that supportive figure in the clan, not always there but listening to their struggles.

He would keep the charade up, much to Zelda's annoyance. (After all this time, he's gotten attached to them and their weekly assassination attempts).

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And then, one day, the chain gets on this new Hyrule. It's vast, wild and destroyed but the people are welcoming and warm.

The groups gets into a stabble that have a bar. And while waiting for their drinks, they hear this group chatting (loudly complaining) about the hero.

After closer inspection, they hear them talking about killing the hero and how hard and difficult it is. They're whinning and crying in their drinks, recounting their attempts to another guy who seems sympathetic and give them advice between rounds of drinking.

It's a deeply uncomfortable conversation to witness for the heroes. Even more so because the guy gives good advice.

They see the conversation unfold with growing horror, until the assassins finish their drinks and leave the place, sure that they will get the hero next time.

The (very well informed) advisor remains and the chain is half tempted to go talk to him about the hero.

But before they can make up their mind, a charismatic woman enters.

She's blonde, with emerald eyes that blaze with fire, and brimming with exasperation as she approach the advisor at a brisk pace. He's unbothered, waving a hand and offering her a dumb grin as she gets near "Hey Zel'-"

"Don't 'Hey Zel' me you idiot. What were you thinking?!"

"I-"

"You have to stop encouraging those Yigas. They want to kill you !"

"Nah, they want to kill the hero. They like me, they look up to me for advice and everything. And they're nice drinking buddies."

"Link, the only reason they drink with you is because they haven't realised you're the hero they're trying to kill. One day, your luck will run out and you will get killed."

"But Zel, how can I leave them so sad and depressed ?"

The chain is dumbstruck.

That's their hero ? That guy that was giving assassination advice ?? For himself ???

They look as the Zelda and Link bicker like an old married couple while they ask themselves what kind of madman Hylia sent them.

(It turns out that that Wild is a wild, trigger-happy, bored gremlin that will launch itself at chaos.)

(The yigas are just entertainment. He's part of their clan and one of their best member)

Zelda is not amused

[estelian-01]

Whoooo! I’m back! Not dead, just busy with studies. Finished my drawing for the next chapter of “Blood and Blade” by @needfantasticstories! Skip I love your series so much!!!! Oh my gosh this scene was amazing!!

[libr-0-cubicularist]

So how y'all coping with chapter 59?

I am incredibly normal about This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja (lies)

[wilds-ponytail]

Sky: We might have gotten in a bar room brawl back in Wild's Hyrule

Time: Well, that was entirely predictable

Sky: Someone - not Wild, surprisingly - punched a member of the Yiga Clan

Time: Twilight?

Sky: Wind, actually

Time: *deep sigh* he was going to be my second guess

[alonelystaccato]

reading linked universe fics can be funny, cus like, taking into account canon ability? those bitches could overthrow any hyrule by themselves no sweat thats how broken they are. wild BY HIMSELF is a terrifying force of nature who beat grown men up when he was a tot, can fire 5 arrows in the breadth of a second, and killed a lynel when he was a kid.

[quartzlightz]

Yiga

Wild, pinching the bridge of his nose: y’all are fucking idiots.

The other heroes, who are all battered up from just falling for another one the yiga’s tricks and summoning a whole band of yiga even after learning their lesson the first time.

The chain, groaning: We know.

[taddy-cat]

So I was letting my brain wander the other day and came up with the thought "A group of incompetent henchpeople, who are obsessed with bananas, are surprisingly good at engineering, and work for a guy who rarely (if ever) wins. Is this describing the Minions or the Yiga?"

This was the result

Special thanks to @breannasfluff for encouraging this cursed (affectionate) crossover

[lu-fic-recommendation-of-the-day]

By @needfantasticstories

Summary:

The Chain discovers Ghirahim is continuing the quest to revive Demise. Now, in Wild’s era, he’s found others with the same goal.

(Feb 1, 2024: split ch 1 into two, and added chapter 3) (March 21, 2024: Prologue #1 added to beginning)

Tags:

Sky/Sun

Flora/Wild

Malon/Time

Sky-centric

Hyrule Needs a Hug

Sky Has a Bad Time

BAMF Legend

Ghirahim being Ghirahim

Hyrule Has a Bad Time

Hyrule Has a Blood Curse

Good Older Sibling Warriors

Mentioned Cia

Giant Spiders

Wind Swears

Legend Swears

Panic Attacks

Past Sexual Assault

Past Violence

Human Sacrifice

Monsters

Finished: No

Word count: 19,468

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 3: "Make it stop"

Read it on Ao3

- Wild & the Chain

- Summary: When Wild is captured by the Yiga Clan, Master Kohga decides to get his revenge

CW for graphic depictions of violence, torture, blood and injury, vomiting, and a character briefly wishing for death

----------------------

“Get up!”

Wild pries open his eyes just as a boot connects with his side. He jerks away with a hiss of pain. 

Of all the horrible ways to wake up…

The face of a Yiga assassin comes into view as his vision clears and he groans. 

Even better.

“I said, get up!”

Another kick that takes Wild’s breath away.

“Yeah that’s not the best way to get me off the floor,” he remarks, dragging himself into a seated position.

That earns him a sharp smack across the face. Wincing, he watches as the assassin bends down, unlocking his chains. They fall to the floor with a clatter. But Wild hardly has time to breathe a sigh of relief, or rub his wrists, or even to plan a quick escape. Almost immediately, the Yiga yanks his hands behind his back, then ties them tightly with a thick rope.

The coarse material rubs at his already raw wrists. It only adds to the cacophony of aches that have begun to arise now that he’s conscious. Wild blows out an annoyed sigh. As if he could forget how sorely he had lost his last fight.

Rough hands haul him to his feet and he stumbles. His surroundings go fuzzy and dim and for a moment he is certain he’s going to faint. But then it passes. And not a moment too soon. The Yiga shoves him forward and wrenches open the cell door.

The same one they’d thrown Barta into, Wild realizes dazedly. The thought doesn’t make him feel any more comfortable.

“Walk,” comes the sharp order, accompanied by another, hearty push. Stumbling on achingly numb legs, Wild starts forward.

He falls more than walks down the stairs. Between the Yiga’s forceful movements and the haze he has yet to pull himself out of, he can hardly keep himself upright. Even the journey across the main room is difficult.

Especially once he realizes where they’re headed.

“Master Kohga will be so pleased to see you,” his captor hisses, no doubt noticing the sudden increased tension in Wild’s shoulders.

“Didn’t I kill him?” Wild asks, with a forced chuckle. Maybe if he feigns nonchalance it will mask the thundering of his heart. He sends a furtive glance around the space, looking for anything that could possibly allow for a quick escape. But there is nothing.

…and no one. Save for the few assassins who leer at him from beneath their masks.

He swallows, hard. “I think I remember dropping his own weapon onto his head.”

That garners him a swift kick to the shins. He trips, only saved from face planting by the Yiga’s tight grip.

“You are a fool to think our master is so easily defeated. You on the other hand…”

The hallway narrows, then widens into a familiar room. He forces himself to take a deep breath.

“…you will meet your end today.”

Wild lifts his head as he walks through the doorway, heart situated painfully in his throat. Master Kohga sits before him, looking very much alive.

“You,” he snarls as soon as he lays eyes on the champion. “You cocky, undying little punk! You thought you had seen the end of the Great Master Kohga, didn’t you?”

Wild shrugs, a slight smirk on his lips. “I did drop a boulder on your head.”

The Yiga restraining him kicks his legs out from under him. He hits the ground with an “oof.”

“That-that is inconsequential!” Kohga replies, huffily. “I am more powerful than death! But for the pain you caused my beloved, loyal followers” – He rises now, stomping his foot along with every word– “You. Are. Going. To. Die!”

His captor’s grip tightens and he yanks on Wild’s hands. Wild falls back, head bumping against the assassin's hip.

“Shall I take him outside, Master Kohga?” A sadistic sort of excitement colors his voice. It makes Wild’s blood run cold.

Kohga nods. “Yes, take him. I do not wish to ruin my furniture with his blood.”

Again, Wild is hauled upward, though this time a vicious sickle finds its way into his back. It bites into his flesh and he fights not to let out a hiss of pain.

“Move,” the Yiga snaps and Wild stumbles out into the sun.

Kohga sits cross-legged over the crater Wild had been so certain he had plummeted into, hovering serenely just above it.

“Come forward, hero,” he sneers as Wild is shoved toward the gaping hole. “You will be pleased to find that I have perfected my art more than ever!”

With a snap of his fingers, a massive boulder appears above his head. Dozens of tiny spikes protrude from its smooth surface. Wild’s blood runs cold. Abandoning his more measured, methodical tugs of before, he begins yanking ferociously at his bonds.

But then, the Yiga drives his sickle into the back of his leg and all thoughts of an escape vanish. He chokes on a cry. His vision bleeds white. It’s all he can do not to pass out.

One, swift movement and the weapon is out of him, tearing through his flesh as easily as fingers through tissue paper. This time he screams.

He hardly registers it when the Yiga backs away, barely realizes that a large, stone door is sliding over the opening behind him, blocking any exit.

But Kohga’s shrill laughter pierces his ears like knives and he drags his head up to look at him.

“If I were you I would run,” he says, voice nearly brimming with excitement. “Because the time for vengeance has come!”

He begins to swing the boulder over his head. With each trip around it gains momentum, growing closer and closer to the moment when it will break free and careen straight at Wild.

Come on, get up. You’ve got to move.

Gritting his teeth, Wild forces himself to his feet. Pain shoots through his leg anew, like a thousand tiny shards of glass have entered his wound. A scream breaks through his parched lips. His lungs burn, breath coming too fast, heart beating erratically. Stars explode before his eyes.

And still the boulder spins. The motion makes him dizzy.

On trembling limbs he stumbles forward, bile rising in his throat. But each step is sheer agony and he’s slow.

…much too slow.

When the boulder flies free, he can’t evade it. It collides with his body and he goes flying. Pain erupts within him. It steals his breath, propels forth a shout of shock and agony, makes his extremities go numb. He can hear his bones cracking even over the rushing in his ears. His vision goes blindingly white, then spotty, then dangerously dark.

He hits the ground, crying out at the agony of the impact. And the boulder comes down with him, crushing his prone body.

Somewhere, Kohga is laughing. The boulder disappears, retreating back to its owner to prepare for another round. Wild knows he should get up, knows he should at least attempt to run. But all he can do is lie there, trying to breathe. Trying to stay awake.

Blood gurgles in his throat and he pitches sideways, gagging on it. Against the blurred sand, the liquid looks far darker than usual. Almost black.

Like the blood of the Shadow, he thinks dazedly.

He doesn’t get much farther than that thought. Because once more the boulder shoots forward. This time it rolls into him more than flies, shoving him against the far wall and pinning him there.

He doesn’t have the strength to scream, even as the spikes tear out chunks of his flesh and his shattered bones protest this newest assault. He yearns for oblivion that refuses to come.

“So, hero, how do you like it?”

It hits him again, smashing him against the cool stone. He gags on blood once more. It drips into his eyes, runs in rivulets down his face, pools in the gashes that run along his body. 

“Painful, isn’t it? Well, that is what you did to me!”

Wild teeters on the edge. Of death or unconsciousness, though, he isn’t sure. Death, he hopes.

(Though at the same time, he doesn’t, because that means he has lost the battle again, failed everyone again, but sweet Hylia he just wants this to stop. Please make this stop.)

And it’s clear now that there will be no other escape.

Your brothers aren’t coming for you. Even if they are, they’ll be too late.

It’s already too late.

“But the mighty Master Kogha prevails over pain and death! You, however, are weak! Weak, weak, weak!”

The boulder retracts and Wild watches it dimly. One more hit is all it will take. He is certain.

So much for coming back to life.

He can see bone, he realizes, shining gorily from his left arm. It is at a strange angle too.

Must be broken. 

It certainly isn’t the only thing. But somehow, that hardly seems important at the moment. 

His eyes slip closed. Everything hurts. The only other time he felt like this was when he collapsed on Blatchery Plain.

I’m sorry, Zelda, for putting you through this again.

I’m sorry…

“Champion!”

A shout rings out across the space, protectively furious and wonderfully familiar. There’s a scream and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. But the blow he expects doesn’t fall on him.

Instead, gentle hands lift his head, cradling it. He blinks open swollen eyes to see the blurred face of Twilight hovering just above him. Legend and Sky appear over his shoulder, seconds later.

“Twi.”

Clumsily, he tries to reach out with his less injured arm, eager to touch him, to prove that he is real. But his body refuses to follow his commands. He doesn’t have to worry, though. The rancher’s hand easily finds its way into his.

“I’ve got you, Wild,” he says, and there is pure fire in his tone. “You’re safe now.”

A head of familiar pink hair leans over him. Gentle, trembling hands nudge his chin upward. 

“Here, you’ve gotta drink this.”

Potion is poured down his throat, lukewarm and burning. But the magic of it begins its work immediately, zipping purposefully toward the worst of his wounds.

Wild swallows it with an effort. Then, he drags his eyes back up to meet Twilight’s. “Kohga?”

It is hardly a whisper, yet they hear it anyway.

“Dead.” He thinks it’s Sky who answers, though his voice doesn’t quite have its usual tone. It is a brittle thing. Dangerous. “For good this time.”

Wild tries to grin, but finds he isn’t quite up to it. “Good,” he mumbles instead. “Tired of his dumb belly.”

Twilight’s lips quirk the slightest bit. Gently, he brushes aside Wild’s bangs, wet with blood and sweat.

“Well, he’s never gonna touch you again.”

“Now, rest up,” Legend says, shakily. “We’ve got this handled. You focus on not dying.”

Any other time Wild would laugh and tease the vet about his blatant caring. But all he can focus on is the pleasantly numb feeling that has begun to spread throughout his body, and how warm Twilight’s embrace is as he scoops him carefully off of the ground. His eyes slip closed of their own accord. Before he even realizes what is happening, the darkness swallows him and he is gone.

[unexpectedstormy]

Stew Pot Plot pt 3

Alternate Prompt #9 Drugging -- Time, Everyone

TW -- nonconsensual drugging, unconsciousness

1009 words

******

Time gently lowered Warriors until he was sitting slouched in the ground and hurried to Epona.

“Up on your feet girl,” he urged. Epona grumbled and got up. Time threw the saddle blanket over her and picked up the saddle, surprised by its weight. When had it gotten so heavy? He heaved it onto her back and went to work on the buckles.

Time heard his name whispered and he turned around, blinking to try and force his eyes to focus and find the source of the call.

“Time…” Warriors said again, he lay down, his eyes barely open. Time knelt next to him, fighting the overwhelming urge to continue the motion and lay down.

“Warriors?” Time shook his shoulder, but Warriors eyes closed and he didn’t respond.

Time was alone.

He returned to Epona’s side. She watched him, dark eyes wide open and knowing something was awry. He put one foot in the stirrup and clutching the saddle horn, tried to haul himself up, but the world spun and he found himself laying on the ground with his ankle caught in the stirrup. He untangled his foot and his leg flopped to the ground as the drugs in his system stole the last of his strength. He tried desperately to force himself up again but he only succeeded in raising his head and shoulders off the ground by a few inches. He tried again, but he could barely move. Epona whinnied in alarm and nuzzled his hair with her lips.

“Old girl,” he raised his hand to pet her nose. “I need you to run. Run for help. I can’t make it… I need you to… run to the stable.” Epona whinnied again and shook her mane.

“Go!” Time said as loudly as he could manage. He slapped her leg and she grunted and jumped back a step in surprise.

“GO!” Time called and slapped her leg again. Epona neighed in distress and turned away. She cantered off saddled, unbridled, and riderless. Once she was out of sight, Time sighed and let his eyes close. He started to drift off, but the sound of footsteps pulled him out of oblivion.

“Are they all out?” A hushed and unfamiliar voice asked. Time cracked one of his eyes open just enough to see through his eyelashes. A pair of red-clad Yiga tiptoed between the sleeping heroes and the mess of their camp.

One of them kicked Sky’s leg but Sky didn’t flinch.

“Out cold,” the Yiga confirmed. “I told ya it would work. You owe me money.”

“Shut up. Let’s just grab the hero and get out of here before anyone sees.”

“Which one is it? They’re all blond.”

“That one’s not blond. His hair’s brown.” One of the Yiga pointed to Hyrule.

“Nah, it’s blond too. Trick of the light.”

“It is too brown! Light brown. Like the color of your underwear, hahaha!”

“You shut your mouth. My underwear is pristine. Unlike yours!”

“Hey!”

“Back to business. One o’ these unlucky bastards is the hero, we just gotta figure out which—ooh! Nice pocketbook! I’ll just take that off you, hehehe.” The Yiga bent down, collected Warriors’ wallet and pocketed it.

“How’re we supposed to do that? They all look like the hero!”

“What do you mean? Surely one of them is the hero! Do you not know what the hero looks like?”

“Why would I know? I’ve never seen him! Haven’t you seen him?”

“How could I have seen him? I’ve been on storeroom duty since I joined! This is my first mission!”

Time was incredulous. These two inept fools were the assassins after Wild and Flora? Sure they’d managed to drug all the heroes to sleep, but they seemed ill-prepared to carry out the rest of their task.

Strangely though, Time suddenly realized, he hadn’t passed out yet. Sure he was exhausted, weak, and groggy but he was awake and aware. Perhaps he hadn’t had enough of a dose…? Whatever the reason, he had to take advantage of it to stop the Yiga… but how? He knew he couldn’t take the Yiga in a fight in his current condition, but maybe one of his magical items or masks…? Time struggled to remember what equipment he had on his person and formulate a plan.

“Do you think Master Khoga would be mad if we brought all of them back?” One of the Yiga asked.

“Of course he would! We don’t have enough bananas to be feeding… 1, 2, 3… 8 more mouths!”

“Can’t you count? There’s nine of them here.”

“Yes I know, but once we figure out which one is the hero, he won’t be around long enough to eat any bananas.”

“You got a point. But what about the extras?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. They’ll probably push them down the bottomless pit.”

A spike of worry lanced through Time’s gut. Epona hadn’t returned with help yet—how long had it been since he sent her off? It was up to him to stop the capture and murder of the youth he held dear. He didn’t have his bag of items on him nor his armor or weapons and he didn’t think he could retrieve any of them from his pile of possessions without being stopped by the Yiga. So what could he do??

“I like the way you think sometimes. Alright then, we’ll take all of them, teleporting them out two by twos.”

“There’s an odd number of them… one of us is goin’ to have to make an extra trip and it ain’t gonna be me.”

Time surreptitiously moved his hand to his belt and felt around for—yes! His ocarina! But what to play? He could summon a storm or… no! He knew exactly which song to play.

“What if the extra is the hero? Wouldn’t you want to be the one to bring him in?”

“… you got me. I think… that one’s the hero. The shrimp in blue with the scruffy hair. Save him for last.” The Yiga pointed at Wind.

“Fine. Now let’s get cracking.”

(To be continued tomorrow...)

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

Afternoon one of (y/n)‘s modern fandom 101 classes

Hyrule, who was having some trouble with the concept: Oh! They call them “ships” cause of relation-ships!

Four, who got it almost immediately: What did you think it meant???

Hyrule:

Hyrule: boat

For context:

[needfantasticstories]

Read here below:

Summary:

Legend is not happy with the Yiga who captured him.

Notes:

Trigger Warnings: Canon-typical violence Spiders Cursing/foul language

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Furious

They had teleported. Even as the Yiga blademasters wrestled Legend’s hands behind him, the veteran found muddy ground replaced with solid, reliable stone underfoot. Supplanting the damp forest was a musty cavern full of crates and vender’s stalls. 

“Astor needs the vials! Hurry up with him!” yelled a reedy voice outside the circle of giant red soldiers crushing him. 

With the benefit of solid ground, Legend planted his feet and wrenched his arm forward enough to break loose and shove a hand into his bag. Before they could stop him, the veteran’s fingers closed on a well-worn, familiar handle. 

Legend ignited the brilliant red gem. 

The swarm of Yiga reeled back as he swung the flaming rod. He aimed fiery orbs that rocketed into the nearest one’s mask. The Yiga had reached for their blades too late; the reek of singed hair and burnt flesh remained in the wake of their retreat. 

They gave him room to breathe, room to think, to look. 

“ HYRULE !” Legend shouted, and the word echoed in the cave amid shouts and grunts as they lunged for him again. But he fired volley after volley, pressing them forward and carefully scanning the room. Tapestries with the inverted Sheikah eye in red and black glared down at him, but he found no sign of Hyrule nor the pale white demon here. But he did find a hoard of bananas: in boxes, on market-like stalls, and in barrels. 

Puffs of smoke around the room revealed a wave of six scrawny footsoldiers along the walls and atop crates, aiming scythes and a pair of drawn bows in his direction. Their clothes were muddy and torn, some bleeding from wounds his brothers had given them. 

The archers fired. 

Legend rolled and dodged the shots, rising again with a shout and a fresh wave of fire from his weapon. “WHERE DID YOU TAKE HIM?” Legend roared, panting, sweeping his fire rod across the Yiga soldiers like a scythe. Alone within the enemy’s stronghold, he found no reason to hold back. He could handle the heat, his rings already pulsing with protective magic. Dark scorch marks painted the walls, and high-pitched screams reverberated as orbs hit their targets.

Waves of heat radiated over the back of Legend’s hands as he aimed and released, but it was gentle compared to the scorching gales he invoked on them. 

“Stop, you idiot!” one footsoldier shouted as she fumbled to lose an arrow. She missed him entirely when, with a squeal, she dove to avoid a fireball. She jumped back up, crouched low, and panted, “Yield… and I’ll… make sure… that you…will see him!” Her voice was mockingly kind, a honey laced with poison.  

Legend responded without words, and she danced away to dodge a fiery end, disappearing to the smell of burnt hair. He sent a matching attack to the other archer, who dropped his bow as he shrieked and vanished. 

“You’re going to die here if you keep this up!” yelled a deep-voiced  blademaster as he hurled forward to strike Legend, but the veteran adventurer leapt high, feet far above the blade’s path, and sent an attack of his own toward the man, forcing him away. They did not know about his rings that would keep him safe from the heat. They didn’t know he’d already sworn to burn this whole place down—for Hyrule, for Wild, for his own satisfaction—it would be wiped from the map.

They were starting to keep out of range, but they’d also blocked the door. Hyrule could be in there. 

Another pair of bulky soldiers slammed their palms to the ground, and Legend felt the earth rumble. From the impact points sped circles of burning red light, the air above whistling up from the heat. Magic , tapping into the powers of Din, he guessed. They rushed at him. Legend leapt aside, but the glowing heat followed. Heat scorched his legs, despite his numerous protective enchantments, as he was forced to run, his boots moving him beyond the soldiers that lurched to catch him. 

Behind him, the red glows finally burst, pebbles pelting his back. Legend turned only to see another pair of the red spells giving chase, their creators laughing. 

Legend grinned at the Blademasters and made a rude gesture, letting the lights come closer. At the last moment, he flipped backward and let the lights pass under him. They burrowed under a pillar of stacked banana crates. 

The crates exploded. 

The Yiga shrieked and wailed in horror.  

This could keep them busy.

Legend dodged between shrieking Yiga soldiers as they rushed to put out the fire. Aided by the pegasus boots, he sent blast after blast of fire into the other crates and barrels, and scorched the bunches lying on the tables.

Like a nest of ants, the Yiga scrambled in vain to put out the flames as the whole supply caught fire. More importantly, they left a clear path to the doorway. Scorched bananas landed in the frame, and without thinking Legend scooped them into his bag. He sent back a few more blasts, just in case, as he left the room only to collapse against the stone hallway. 

He could not afford to rest long, not until he found Rule. Soldiers could appear at any moment. But sweat dripped from his face, his hands shook, and the places where his magic usually pooled ached with an emptiness as sharp as hunger. 

Legend hadn’t eaten in hours. He reached for a potion when his hand brushed something warm. He grabbed it too only to find one blackened banana. Shrugging, he ate it quickly, the flesh surprisingly soft and sweet. He’d eaten bananas before, but not like this one. Far more strength than he was expecting fueled him, even replenishing a small portion of his magic. He retreated into the shadows cast by the door, hoping no one saw him beyond the blaze within.

He sipped half of his last magic potion as he scrounged in his pack again. He needed to hide, and fast. And just a moment to rest. Ravio’s bracelet? No paintings here, and he didn’t have a direction. Ice rod? No... His cape! He’d discovered it within a tomb underneath the graveyard just outside Hyrule Castle, long ago. He avoided using it often since it drained his magic quickly; it was difficult enough keeping reserves up before meeting Hyrule, but the fire rod drained him already, despite the thrill of the fight.

 Legend pulled out the heavy garment, dark red with gold trim. He threw it on and hurried into a far corner of the hall, magic fueling the cape. His body faded out of sight. And just in time. Shouts erupted as red lights revealed new soldiers in the hall. Legend pressed into the corner as a half dozen soldiers hurried past into the blazing room.  

“Where is he?” the newcomers demanded. Each voice fought to be heard over the others. “Put that out!”—“The whole place is burning!”---“Sooga is going to kill us!” “He ran that way!”--“Where’s the other one?”---“The Demon Lord said –-”

They don’t know where Rule is? His successor had been limp and unconscious when he last saw him, a sight the veteran wished he could forget. His successor wasn’t brawny or one to pick fights, but he was scrappy, determined,and powerful in magic. And they couldn’t find him! He escaped! For all his confidence in the kid, he could have cried in relief. Sure, the kid could take down a lynel, and could make anything into a weapon. But they both needed to get out of here fast, and the kid might not know he had an ally in here. But how to tell him?

“We need the mage!” one shrieked loudly as he streaked past Legend down the echoing hall. 

Mage? Could that be the pale demon?

“Go! Find them! Now!” a deeper voice roared from inside, drowning out the rest of the yelling.  

Soldiers ran from the room. Legend followed, then passed by on his boots, looking for the soldier who mentioned the mage. 

The cape and pegasus boots were draining what little magic he’d recovered with worrying speed, but he could hold on a bit longer. He had to. Catching up to the soldier who’d run for the mage, he followed close. It was as good a clue as any. He memorized the switchbacking tunnels as he chased after the soldier. How big is this place? They ran for what Legend could only assume was several miles, though it was probably just exhaustion dulling his senses. They passed room after room in quick succession: storerooms, living quarters, mess halls, a smith’s forge.

At last, the soldier ran through a set of double doors. 

Yiga fighters scrambled everywhere. With all the yelling and commotion inside, Rule had to be inside! Legend hurried to follow. 

But the commotion within was not Hyrule. Instead, he entered a foreboding armory: racks of blades and bows covered the left half; three giant, spiked balls too big for a hinox to carry provided the centerpieces dead ahead, a painted, glowing red eye on the largest glared at him, as if alive; ot the right, towers of ghostly white masks filled the wall. Fresh fighters scrambled to arm themselves and receive orders.

Legend stuck to the wall and carefully tracked the soldier he’d been following. The figure dashed past the other Yiga, hurrying behind the dais with the spiked spheres.

Legend followed quickly, catching bits of banter: colorful complaints over and over that neither the Heroes called Legend nor Hyrule could be found.

How do they know us? How does Ghirahim know about Hyrule’s curse? Why take me too?

With a muffled grunt of pain, Legend hid behind the giant metal ball just as his magic ran out. His chest ached, and his blood felt cold and slow, but he forced his eyes to take in the narrow, secluded area in the back of the armory. He was visible now, but the soldier leading him to the mage was already halfway through a hidden doorway. 

Legend ducked low, and followed. 

The Veteran caught the door before it closed. He shoved it open just enough to slip inside, noting how the torch nearby slid down as he did. 

A massive table stood in the center, surrounded by stiff-back but elegantly carved chairs. A symbol had been scratched out and recarved on each – an eye poorly covering the triforce. 

A war room. Schematics and charts and maps covered the wall, from strange looking helmets decorated with lightning bolts to designs for flying platforms (manned by what he guessed were bokos), to poorly drawn maps of Wild’s Hyrule.

Including a map of the caves. 

Another door on the far wall stood ajar. “Your Eminence?” a voice called from inside. 

Legend snatched the map and ducked under the table. It wasn’t the safest place, but it would have to do. 

A grumble preceded the soldier’s return from the mysterious room beyond. He passed Legend’s hiding place, muttering, “where in the shadow realms is he? Sooga is going to kill us!” as he returned to the armory. 

The mage wasn’t in the room? Perfect. Legend rolled out and forged ahead, eating another banana as he went. 

Licking his fingers, he entered a large study and immediately gagged. It reeked of foul body odor and wet dog hair and rotten fruit. He covered his nose and mouth, and looked around. Shelves overburdened with books lined the walls, the tomes crammed mercilessly and coated in dust, veiled in cobwebs. One book lay open with obvious care on the central table, perched atop an elegantly carved stand and flanked by tall glass oil lamps, glowing orange.

His stomach growled. Two bananas wasn’t nearly enough.

Fumbling in his bag, the veteran snatched the last banana and glared at it as he peeled. Stupid Yiga and their inexcusably delicious fruit. It refreshed him more than he cared to admit. Unfortunately, it still did little for his dwindling reserves of magic. Between the firerod, boots, and cape, he barely had enough magic left to hide for a few seconds, and his quick glance at the map revealed a sprawling dungeon complex. 

Moving carefully around the crowded table, Legend looked around for something useful. It was quiet enough he could hear the rustle of his clothes, completely immune to the chaos and shouting two rooms away. A silencing spell? The room pulsed with enchantments, spells, and curses, their auras tangling and mixing to the point that he could not identify most of them. Each had a sort of flavor or sense to them, but one dominated the rest: a sense of endless hunger mixed with anger, glowing magenta and tasting like wine and ashes. It was hard to pin down, but it made his throat burn.   

On a shelf beside a crowded desk stood a battalion of bottled potions in rows. Legend hurried to read the labels. He blew dust off of the corks and fluted shoulders, and then smiled. Healing, stamina, magic, and electricity resistance. Legend uncorked a green one and smelled it. Dancing Din! A Magic potion!  

He dumped the whole stock into his pouch save the one he’d smelled, which he guzzled, the liquid tickling his dry throat. It tasted like spring sunshine in a bottle. It soothed and filled and spread from throat to chest to arms and legs to toes and fingers. His boots hummed with power, as did the firerod sheathed on his hip. Legend smiled and sighed at the tingle of magic racing down his veins.  

This was going to work. He had enough potions to search the caves for days. Weeks! No one would see him, and nothing would stop him. 

Legend grabbed the whole stock of healing potions and, after removing a bit of firewood he had been storing for Wild, he had plenty of room for all of them. Legend dumped the whole supply in his pouch. With a satisfied grin, he replaced his cape and disappeared once more. 

Legend pushed back the bookstand and set the pilfered cave map on the table. The layout was strange, with zigging, zagging, and curving halls, but he could see the layout. He’d need to search every room, and leave a trail to make sure Rulie could find him as he went. 

Course now set, Legend glanced again at the massive book.  

Browned pages, cracked with age, showed a heavily stylized ink drawing, angular and ugly: a tripod lashing dominated the page: three logs tied securely into a triangular structure. A Hylian in a pale tunic dangled by the wrists under it. Dark red ink trailed down the arms and chest and dripped into a wide stone basin. Red ink flowed down a channel within the basin into a large clay pot. A beastly, tusked shadow sat inside it.

Shit shit shit shit!

Legend slammed the book closed and shoved it in his bag. He had to get Rulie out of here. Now . Who the hell was this mage? 

Cape and fire rod at the ready, Legend left two bombs on the floor atop the firewood, and ran back the way he came. He barely closed the door to the war room when the explosion shook the cave.

Soldiers in the armory shouted in response. He hurried along the wall to avoid detection. 

He paused beside the door as a group of footsolders ran into the armory. 

“They blew it up!” one shouted, his voice high-pitched with incredulity.

“Where the hell are they!”

“Damned heroes!”

“I’m gonna gut every last one of them when he’s finished with them!” The others yelled in agreement, surveying the damage from the side while others ran to put out the flames. 

And Legend knew that, given a chance, they would. He stopped feeding magic to the cape.

The Yiga soldiers startled when they saw him, then crouched and raised their weapons.

“Where is the Hero of Hyrule?” Legend demanded.

“We’ve got one!” a soldier shouted into the hall behind Legend. The Veteran grinned. Good. Let them come. 

“Surrender, Hylian filth!” one laughed. “You’re outmatched! There’s no escape!”

“WHERE? IS? HE?” Legend demanded again, voice echoing down the hall as he adjusted the grip on his fire rod.  

The five soldiers moved fast, but not one reached him. 

Legend left the blazing room behind, and no longer bothered with the cape. Hyrule can find me better this way. I’ll mark a trail for him. 

As if in a trance, he slashed and burned hallway traps, footsoldiers, blademasters, stockpiles, and weapons racks. Scorches, ash, and embers trailed in his wake. Passing an underwater canal and a hoard of bokoblins hiding there, he cleared every room he found, sweating and panting, but he downed one of the stolen potions and forged on. Yiga popped away almost as soon as they appeared.

He blazed through a sort of court, empty but for a few sleepers rudely awakened. He let them vanish. 

There was a crease in the wall behind them, marking a hidden passage. He used his power bracelets, their hum familiar and soothing, and he shoved the wall open.

Snow and sand drifted in on the wind. It was strangely dark. 

“HYRULE!” He screamed, and immediately regretted it.

He took it in rapidly: Sand. Snow. Webs. Skultulas.  

The spiders stopped their slow creeping and turned to face him. A multitude of eyes locked onto the hero. They began chittering and clacking. 

Fuck! He wasn’t expecting that.  

He sent out a barrage of fireballs, then slammed the door on them and leaned against it, just to be sure it stayed put. He breathed hard, his body begging for rest and his legs trembling, his mind reeling at the new enemy. 

This was not on the map.

Notes:

Writers block was HORRIBLE, so thank you HotCheetoHatred for your patience, and Estelian for your amazing art that broke me out of it. I have been DYING to get this chapter out ever since I wrote it. It feels great to finally set it free! I hope you enjoyed the update! There's so much more to come!

(@la-sera I updated the fic! I hope it entertains!)

[estelian-01]

ALRIGHT! New art for @needfantasticstories series “Blood and Blade” for chapter 7!! If you haven’t gone and read this series yet I highly recommend it!!!

[beesandhoney1219]

Anyways hi uhhh

What if I started a hyrule warriors fanfic between all the villains while I work on A Confusing Heritage chapters?

And if so, should Ganon be good towards the villains or bad towards them? I have ideas for both, but I wanna know what you guys think.

And yes, the Chain will appear now and again throughout the fanfic. Probably getting their ass beat LMAO

[wilds-ponytail]

Master Kohga, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha

Wild: Do you think other people can’t hear you?