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Chapter Text

The cold winds of Hebra seemed to pick up whenever Link took a step forward. His clothes were soaked, the thin fabric doing nothing to protect against the harsh weather. Of course the Queen couldn’t give him anything warmer, she had to save those resources for the soldiers - those who actually needed it. She had always been like that: unreasonable. Surely the soldiers who were patrolling around the temperate forests around Hyrule Castle didn’t need full on jackets. Surely she could have spared one for her Alchemist who was going into the Hebra Mountains to fight a Lynel to get ingredients for her potions for her soldiers. Yes, it was winter, but the field never dropped too low below freezing. Up in the Hebra Mountains, Link was surprised he was still alive.

He shook his head and rubbed his arms, hoping and praying that some form of warmth would arrive soon. His teeth were chattering so hard that he was surprised that they weren’t broken. He was shaking so much that he was surprised that he could still walk.

All of this to go and fight a Lynel.

Link wasn’t even too sure if he was still on the right path - the blizzard having picked up a while ago, forcing Link to slow his steps should he not want to accidentally fall down a cliff. Because of the almost white-out conditions, Link wasn’t too sure if he had started going in circles or not. He had no map to speak of, and even if he did, it would have been completely ruined by the snow, frost, ice, and the wind.

The fucking wind.

Link used to love the wind when he was a child. He loved climbing up trees in the summer and feeling the wind swirl around him when he got to the top. Now, that didn’t happen very often as the Queen rarely let anyone out of Castle Town unless they had a reason, but Link sometimes managed to sneak out at night to feel the wind and watch the stars.

That love of the wind had dwindled very quickly as he got older. Now, the wind was nothing more than a nuisance: something that made his arrows go off course, something that tried to blow him off the side of a cliff he was climbing, and something that made the cold of the mountains even fucking worse! There was little use complaining though, there was nothing that he could do to make his situation any better.

Only worse.

Link felt the arrow before he registered anything else. A sharp pain embedding into his shoulder that caused him to fall backwards, landing in the snow, slightly dazed and wondering what was going on. He managed to sit up and inspect his shoulder- a regular arrow. Strange. What in the name of Hylia would use arrows in a white-out blizzard on the top of a mountain range. What would have been able to even see him well enough to hit him with an arrow? How had the wind not made this arrow go off course? Was it shot that way? What in the world had such amazing shooting skills.

Lynels.

Fuck.

Link managed to roll out of the way of another incoming arrow, accidentally giving himself a face-full of snow in the process. Where was it? Link had to locate it quickly before the Lynel got even better at shooting or decided to launch a surprise attack…

Another arrow, coming from his left. Link dodged again and grabbed out his sword, running blind as quickly as he could across to where he hoped the Lynel still was. He heard a grunt to his right and swung at it, his sword hitting home on something. Link turned and saw the form of a Lynel: big, tall, towering over Link with an expression that was not normal for a Lynel. There was more murderous intent than usual, more malice and hate in its eyes.

Link’s eyes widened as he took in the form of the giant beast before him, his sword stuck in the leg of the Lynel. This was not an ordinary Lynel, this was not any kind of Lynel that Link had ever seen before. What was wrong with it? Why was it just standing there, staring at him? Link pulled hard on his sword, trying to dislodge it from the leg of the Lynel. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong! His sword wasn’t coming out, it almost seemed stuck. Stealing a glance down to the leg from where Link maintained eye-contact, he saw that the Lynel’s skin had grown around the sword, trapping it inside the leg. The purple blood that would usually be staining the snow was slowly making its way up the length of the sword, bubbling and burning. A metallic scent filled the air as Link saw the blood eat away at the metal of the sword, breaking it a couple centimetres away from where the sword was embedded, leaving Link with a much shorter, jagged edged sword that did not look helpful in this situation.

There was something wrong with this Lynel, and Link did not want to stick around to find out. Yes, he needed Lynel horns for the potions that he was tasked with making. Yes, this was one of the only places that Link was allowed that housed a Lynel, and yes, Link would probably be executed or banished should the Queen find out that he ran from this fight, but the survival instincts that Link had managed to obtain over his years of living in Castle Town, avoiding guards and the ever-seeing eye of the Queen, told him to run.

Link took one last look up at the face of the Lynel before backing away slowing, his sword held out in front of him in a defensive measure. He knew better than to turn his back on an enemy, even if it meant he would be able to escape faster or actually know where he was going. This time, it didn’t matter. Link could barely see around him and he needed to know if/when the Lynel was going to strike again.

The Lynel just stood there, staring at him, unmoving as if a statue. Link continued to back up slowly, putting one foot behind the other and slowly making distance. The Lynel was almost out of Link’s seeing range when something strange happened.

The Lynel smiled a wicked smile.

What. The. Fuck.

The Lynel then slowly, as if not to scare Link, took the spear from off it’s back and held it at its side. Link stopped moving at this point. The adrenaline that had been fading spiked back up again, warning him of danger. The only sounds heard were the howling wind as the two figures stood stock still and looked at each other.

It was almost an art piece; a strange recreation of David and Goliath, a story told to young Hylian soldiers to keep up their courage and have them believe that they could fight and win against anyone and everything. Link loved listening in on the storytimes when he was younger, but he didn’t believe any of the mumbo-jumbo being fed to the minds of his peers. His Alchemist-Master told him everything he needed to know, even that it was okay to run from fights if they were too much. Link took that advice to heart, turned, and started running.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to beat the Lynel, he didn’t even know if he could injure it enough for it to stop attacking him. He was scared, even though he didn’t want to admit it. Link heard the Lynel let out an ear-piercing roar before galloping towards him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!

Link tried to run faster but the deep snow wasn’t helping any. It came up to his knees and trudging through the snow at a slow pace was difficult enough, let alone running for his life. The Lynel caught up easily, swinging his spear in a way that would have cleaved Link’s head off his shoulders had he not ducked. It stormed past Link, it’s thundering hooves almost as loud as the roar it had let off earlier. It’s movement was in no way impeded by the snow, easily and gracefully moving through it like an arrow without any resistance.

Link got up quickly and ran towards where the Lynel was, hoping to pull off something similar to what just happened, or maybe just sprint past it while it was attacking. The beast gave another ear-splitting roar and ran at Link as well, closing the distance a lot faster than Link could ever hope to manage. Link was expecting another cleaving swing that he could dodge under, he expected another swing that would kill him if he didn’t move fast enough. Link had not expected the Lynel to anticipate what he was going to do. Usually it took two or three times of Link using one strategy before he would have to move to a different one.

This Lynel learnt fast.

Link waited until the Lynel swing at him before ducking down and rolling away. It seemed to have anticipated the movement because before Link could stand back up and keep running, a sharp pain stabbed him on the left part of his lower back. He let out a yelp from surprise, the pain not taking full effect because of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, probably keeping him alive at this rate. Link glanced over his shoulder and saw the Lynel, the same terrifying smirk on its face as it leaned down on the spear. More pain flourished from the small of Link’s back where the spear had impaled him. He tried to crawl away but the spear embedded in his gut kept him in place. The Lynel gave one final press on the spear, sticking Link’s impaled body into the frozen ground and ice below the snow.

Link tried to get up but failed, the spear was all the way through his torso and stuck into the ground. The red of his blood was quickly staining the snow and Link was beginning to feel dizzy.

The Lynel, the ever kind fellow, decided that it shouldn’t leave Link stuck to the ground and grabbed onto the spear with both hands. It then pulled up with such force, pulling the spear cleanly out of Link, making his already bad wound more and more fatal by the second. Link could almost swear that the entirety of the Hebra Mountain Range could hear his screams over the howling wind of the blizzard.

He was bleeding faster now, his winter tunic slowly getting more and more wet with blood, the snow getting more and more saturated. Link knew that if he stayed here, he would die. If he got out of range of the Lynel, then maybe, maybe he would have a chance at survival. It was a slim chance with the way his injury was, but it was a chance that Link was willing to take.

He got up as quick as he could, ignoring the way that his vision clouded with black spots for a second, ignoring the way the ground seemed to be tilting this way and that, and started walking away as quickly as he could. His hands were at his wound, putting pressure on it the best he could. The arrow was still in his shoulder making it a bit difficult to move his right arm, but he would deal with that later, if he survived. He left a blood trail behind him as well as footprints that were close together and went all over the place as Link stumbled and tried to keep his balance. The Lynel walked behind Link, taking pleasure in the way that Link was stumbling around, close to death, but not too close. He would last a few more minutes.

With a final ear-piercing roar, the Lynel galloped in front of Link and grabbed him by the neck, hoisting him up so that they saw eye-to-eye.

“Kill.. the.. Hylian,” the Lynel growled, its voice not used to making words, only growls and guttural sounds. “Let.. the.. Malice.. consume!”

Link was choking, the hand around his throat tightening with every word until he couldn’t breathe. His vision was clouding faster than before as he tried, in vain, to breathe through the grip on his throat. The grip suddenly let go and Link dropped to the ground, one hand putting pressure on his even more aggravated wound, and the other one lightly touching his own neck as he gasped and wheezed in the cold air of the mountains. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to be awake, everything hurt.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sharp pain that irradiated from his torso, just by his lungs, and suddenly he was flying through the air. Link didn’t know what to do as he spun through the air. He had no wings, he couldn’t fly! He also didn’t have anything that would break his fall or slow his decent. Link did what he thought best in this situation: curl up into a tiny ball, legs protecting his torso, his arms protecting his head, and pray.

A few more seconds of flying through the air later, and Link didn’t get the hard landing that he thought that he would have gotten- slamming into the side of a mountain or splatting onto the ice covered ground, or getting impaled by a tree, or landing in the range of a different Lynel. All of those had been real possibilities, all of those probably had a higher probability than what had happened to Link.

He landed in a snowbank.

Granted, there was still a jarring force from stopping after flying through the air, but he managed to land somewhat softly in a snowbank, rolling a bit along it before coming to a stop. Had Hylia heard his prayers? Was he just that lucky? Was this even lucky? Now that Link was no longer around the strange Lynel (what was even up with that thing? It spoke! To him… about Malice? Who was Malice?), Link now had to deal with his injuries.

That was the big ‘if’ factor in him getting off the Hebra Mountains or not… the injuries. The arrow wasn’t that bad, Link just had to either push it through or pull it out of his shoulder (depending on how deep it was) and then cauterize the wound with a red-hot sword or dagger. The wound in his stomach was going to be a different story altogether. The black spots that had been slowly invading his vision completely took it over when Link tried to push himself to sit up and inspect his injuries. Ringing took over his ears as well, blocking out the roaring wind and Link’s harsh breathing. It hadn’t pierced a lung, but it had still scrambled Link’s insides like they were eggs.

How the fuck was he going to fix this? Was he even able to fix this? Maybe dying in the mountains will be more merciful than dying in front of the Queen, Link thought. At least now I’ll be able to keep my dignity and not be offered up to the Dungeon Master.

Sidon loved the cold. He loved it when winter fell on Zora’s Domain, when snow covered the landscape, when the top layer of the water turned to ice. He loved how quiet everything became- how he could just step outside while the Domain slept and not hear anything except his own footsteps and breaths if he allowed.

The Hebra Mountains, however, were a little much, even for him.

Sure, everything was covered in snow and ice, sure there were no sounds except for footsteps and breathing, but the wind messed everything up by making it just a bit too cold (read: really cold). Sidon and his party continued to move through the Hebra mountains despite the blizzard telling them to stop and make camp. The party of four had been coming back from a meeting with the Rito at their perch, exchanging information and reaffirming their alliances.

The information shared mostly revolved around how more and more monsters seemed to be being infected with Malice, how the Hylian reach was getting further and further away from the borders that had been established multiple generations ago, and how everyone needed to bulk up their military because soon they could be facing a war. No one wanted to go to war, no one wanted to face whatever was creating the Malice. No one wanted to kill anyone. Everyone was fine with the fact that they may have to kill Hylians as no one had been in contact with them for a couple centuries, the Royal family closing off the borders and trade long before that. No longer was anyone familiar with the way Hylians looked, sounded, or acted- the only affirmation that they were not all dead were the sightings of roaming soldiers in Hyrule Field once or twice a year.

Yes, no one had any trouble sleeping over the fact that Hylian blood would be spilled if a war was started, what no one wanted to find out was how easily Malice spread and if they would have to kill friends, family, loved ones if they became infected.

Sidon himself had never seen a Hylian before, but he was told that they were a lot like the Sheikah, only shorter and with darker hair. Sidon had once seen a photo of a Hylian (though he didn’t count this as seeing an actual Hylian) that Laflat had once taken. It was a picture of a singular Hylian (which was strange because they mostly travelled in pairs or small groups) climbing a tree to grab what looked like an apple.

Laflat had explained that once the Hylian saw that she was there, they took off running in the opposite direction, scared. Sidon had formed his opinion of Hylains right then and there: they were adorable.

They reminded him of ducklings.

“Sidon!” Bazz’s voice sounded in front of him. Everyone drew their weapons as an instinct, no one wanted to be caught off guard. “Listen,”

Sidon strained his ears to hear anything over the howling winds of Hebra, but he thought he heard something though he wasn’t too sure what it was. It was high-pitched and reminded him of the playful shouts that the Zora children made when playing, but this one sounded more pained.

“Do you know what it is?” Sidon asked. Bazz shook his head and looked towards Dunma and Gaddison to see if they knew. He got two headshakes as a reply. No one knew what made that sound.

“Maybe a Lynel infected by Malice?” Gaddison offered.

“But we know what a Lynel sounds like,” Dunma pointed out gently, “We hear it all the time on Ploymus.”

“Wouldn’t it be deeper if it were a Lynel?” Bazz asked, turning around and making a circle. It wasn’t a good move on a defensive point of view, but it made it easier to discuss and brainstorm what they had just heard.

“Doesn’t Malice make voices higher though?” Gaddision questioned.

“No,” Dunma said, again gently. “Remember all the Bokoblins and Moblins that were infected? If anything, their voices got deeper.”

“I wasn’t there on that mission.” Gaddision replied, “ I was defending the bridge.”

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to show you next time we see one.” Dunma said with an inviting smile.

“I think that it would be a good idea to have more people on that patrol,” Sidon interjected, turning into the circle from where he was looking, trying to find out just where that sound came from so that they could inspect it. “They’re quite difficult to kill.”

“If you don’t hit them with some kind of Elemental weapon, their ability to heal will make them heal around your weapon.” Bazz instructed.

“I mean, generally, the weaker the monsters are around them, the weaker they themselves are,” Dunma explained further, “I mean, an infected Bokoblin won’t nearly be able to heal as fast as a Lynel.”

Something landed in the snow near them. It rolled for a little bit before coming to a stop, barely moving. Red stained its path and made the four Zora stare in curiosity.

Sidon, his weapon still drawn, instructed the others to stay back a couple of steps and act as back-up as he went to investigate. Everyone agreed to this plan, readying their weapons as Sidon slowly crept forward. The thing was badly injured, bleeding profusely from a wound in its lower torso. It tried to move, to sit up, but a pained yelp escaped from it before it fell into the snow again and stopped moving.

The Zora party crept forward, keeping a careful eye on the thing- they couldn’t tell what it was because of the clothing it had on, some kind of tunic with a hood which obstructed its face. It was almost completely covered in snow as well. Sidon felt a wave of pity for the creature the closer he got. He slowly knelt down next to the lump of creature and put his hand on its shoulder, slowly flipping it over onto its back in order to see just what it was.

“A Hylian!” Dunma gasped when the creature settled onto its back. It was a Hylian- darker hair than the Sheikah (this one’s looking the colour of straw), and (when pulled out of the snow) definitely shorter than the average Sheikah. A Hylian! The first one that Sidon had seen in his entire life! But the Royal family (presumably) kept them under tight lock and key, so why was this one in the Hebra Mountains?

“Do we save it?” Bazz looked like he wanted to poke the Hylian with his spear.

“Yes! You buffoon!” Dunma exclaimed. “They could tell us the best way to defeat them in combat should it come to war! Or the best way to sneak into their towns! Or a more effective way to defeat the Malice!”

Sidon nodded, “Dunma’s right. They could have a lot of information for us.”

“We just have to stop them from bleeding out!” Gaddison basically shouted, running forward and putting pressure on the Hylian’s wound. “We won’t be able to get any information out of them should they die!” To prove his point, he lifted the tunic of the Hylian just enough so that the wound was on full display: dark blood, almost black, was seeping out of the wound at a steady pace. Sidon could almost swear that he could see through the wound as well.

That image spurred Sidon into action. Sure, they could get a lot of information out of the Hylian, but they were also very cute (again, like a duckling) and Sidon wanted to have a conversation with the Hylian- compare lives. He could show them around Zora’s Domain, he could learn how to fight like a Hylian, he could have a friend.

“Mipha, don’t fail me now.” Sidon muttered as he put one hand over the other and placed both above the wound. He wasn’t as powerful as his sister when it came to healing others (or himself for that matter), but as a member of the Zora Royal Family, he possessed some capability for healing. It was never perfect, unlike Mipha’s, but it worked for battlefield wounds, closing them up and making them not fatal anymore.

The three other Zora stood around the Hylian and watched Sidon work, not really having anything to do until most of the bleeding stopped. Dunma had bandages ready and Bazz and Gaddison were keeping watch for whatever could have caused the Hylian this much damage. If Sidon wasn’t concentrating so hard on healing the Hylian, he would have wondered where they came from because the blood trail that they left just suddenly appeared a couple metres away.

Slowly but surely, the wound began to close, the blood began to flow slower, and the Hylian started to breathe easier. When Sidon pulled away (as per the request of everyone around him, saying that he shouldn’t over exert himself because they still had more travelling to go before they thought themselves safe), the wound was still there, it was still bleeding, but it could heal on its own now and the Hylian was no longer in the state of going-to-die-soon, so Sidon agreed. Dunma quickly knelt down and, with the help of Sidon picking the Hylian up, wrapped the bandages around their torso.

There was still an arrow in their shoulder, but Bazz (being the one least concerned about hurting the Hylian) quickly pulled it out and threw it off to the side, allowing Dunma to cover that wound in bandages as well.

“Their ribs are broken.” she said to no one in particular. She quickly lifted up the rest of the tunic and wrapped more bandages around the chest of the Hylian, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Dunma was an amazing Medic, the head of the Medic Team back at Zora’s Domain and loved trading tips, tricks, and information with the Rito Medic’s because “They are the most advanced Medics besides us. We need to make sure that our techniques are kept up to date!”

Sidon watched in awe (even though he was supposed to be following Gaddison and Bazz away towards the designated camp for travellers) at how carefully Dunma handled the Hylian. He knew that it wasn’t because they were injured- he had seen Dunma handle Zora, Rito, and Gerudo alike with more force when they had much more grave injuries than the Hylian. Was it because they were a Hylian and not much was known about Hylians? Sidon shook his head slightly and turned around to follow Bazz and Gaddison; he could think about this when everyone was out of danger. He could ask these questions when everyone was back at Zora’s Domain.

He could use his energy to think about these things when everyone was safe.

Camp was put up at the camping spot: a cabin of sorts, only stocked with an axe, a fireplace, some wood, and something to light the entire contraption with. There wouldn’t be any volunteers for restocking cabins that might go unused for months at a time with food, water, and medical supplies. It was pointless.

Bazz managed to get the fire started while Gaddison kept watch outside and Sidon and Dunma set up the sleeping bags. They usually slept in water pods, but with the cold of the Hebra mountains and no feasible way of transporting that amount of water safely without being bogged down or it all freezing (and subsequently taking forever to unthaw so that they could sleep), any Zora traveller slept in sleeping bags, the design of which was shared with them by the Rito.

Sidon offered his up to the Hylian when he noticed them shaking and shivering. Everyone agreed (even though Dunma seemed a little hesitant to) as all of them had been travelling all day and didn’t really want to give up that extra piece of comfort. Everyone then ate a small dinner and headed to sleep, Gaddison staying up for first watch because he wasn’t even that tired, I swear! Sidon didn’t believe him, but all the walking, the cold, and the healing for the Hylian had really taken his energy out of him, so he didn’t argue. He did say, however, that he would take second watch.

“He’s only a Hylian!” Gaddison whispered harshly.

“Yeah. Keyword: Hylian! They haven’t been seen around for centuries! When they have, they’re on military patrols!” Bazz spat back.

“This one was alone though, didn’t even have a sword on them.”

“That would make it more dangerous, wouldn’t you think? If a warrior is alone, that means that they are trained and well.”

“They look about as strong as a frog. I think that one of us, let alone four could easily take them down if need be.”

“Would you stop humanizing that thing? They are where the Malice is coming from!”

“You don’t know that!”

“My theory hasn’t been proven wrong yet. Hylians are dangerous, and Sidon was a fool for healing it. Mark my words, that thing is going to be our downfall!”

Chapter Text

Soldiers broke into houses as an ear-splintering roar sounded over Castle Town. The streets themselves shook as the Dungeon Master made it known that he requires more- that the offering for the night of the Blood Moon would not be enough.

Screams shook the houses and made themselves known as the call from the Dungeon Master faded. Hylians were dragged out of their homes, family members trying and failing to pull them back in, yelling and screaming that they had done nothing wrong, that they were all paid up.

There was no pattern as to who got taken that night, no rhyme or reason- young children, strong factory people, the weak and the ill - seventeen were taken. Much more than the offerings to the Dungeon Master usually were- usually only five or six- a total of twenty-six were in the dungeon, waiting for the Blood Moon in five days to claim their lives.

Snow started to fall as the Hylians were dragged into the castle and thrown down into the dungeon. It covered the ground and the small spots of blood that came from those who resisted- almost washing away the memories by the time the sun rose. Tears still stained the faces of the families of those who were taken, their hearts still ached with the knowledge of their deaths. But they knew there was nothing that they could do, nothing that they could say to bring their loved ones back- they just had to start preparing an empty grave for them.

“I am almost free,” the Dungeon Master creaned in the Queen's ear. “Only a little more and my power shall be yours. All of the far reaches of this land shall be yours. No one shall stop you.”

The Queen nodded as she walked further through the dungeon, looking in at all of the sacrifices that had broken a law.

“We're innocent!”

“I can still work in the fields!”

“He's just a child! An innocent child!”

“How can a child be guilty?!”

“Take more of the ill- not me!”

Their screams merged together into one as the Queen slowly walked through the dungeon. Their words were not true, however. Each one was guilty in one way or another. The child was caught outside Castle Town. The one worker was caught taking more rations. The old, ill man was guilty of passing his medications to the small child in there with him- one that caught a small fever that was of no concern to anyone. They had all broken the law- they had all betrayed the trust that the Queen put in them.

In five days, their last breaths would be taken as the Blood Moon rose. The ground would be stained in more blood, the stones would receive a fresh coat and be further stained. The guillotine needed to be sharpened now that the Queen had the thought in her mind: the Dungeon Master preferred sacrifices that had not suffered in death.

“Their screams are louder. Their blood is fresher. They still have some fight in them.” It explained once when the Queen received the throne from her father. “The more fight they have in them, the more that I can take from them, and the more power I can obtain- the more power I can give you.”

The Queen smiled as she walked past the prisoners, a slight spring in her step as she almost skipped. She hummed a little song under her breath when she remembered the smell of the blood after last month's ceremony. She loved the smell, the colour; it was an art piece that got erased and redone every single month, and it never got old as the art work was never the same. There was always differences in the colour of the blood, slight differences of shade and hue, which made delightful swirls if one looked closely enough.

“Let us out!”

“I don't want to die!”

“I'm too young!” The screams spurred the Queen on further through the dungeon, her singing becoming louder and her skip becoming more prominent.

“I will cut your head clean off, and grind your bones to dust! Don't think that you can escape, for there is no one you can trust!”

A bastardization of a nursery rhyme sung by the Hylian children about Spring overtaking Winter. She continued until she reached the stairs out of the dungeon.

“Soon,” The Dungeon Master reassured. “Soon everything will be yours, and everyone will shake in your presence, at the mere mention of your name.”

“Everyone shall fear Queen Zelda.” the Queen answered the voice of the Dungeon Master before taking one last look back at the sacrifices, a smile still playing on her lips, and ascended the stairs.

The Hylian was awake.

Sidon had been keeping watch, the sun beginning to rise over the Hebra mountains, the blizzard having died down a couple hours ago. The sky was beautiful: golds and rose pinks blending together and painting the sky. Everything outside looked like a dream, the untrodden snow reflecting the sky and giving the world a magical glow.

Sidon had been so busy being mesmerized by outside that he didn't notice the Hylian awaken. They didn't give any sign that they were awake either, no noises exited them in the form of a sleep-filled groan or a pain-induced whimper. The only sound that informed Sidon of the Hylian awaking was the slight ruffle of the sleeping bag.

Looking back, Sidon expected to see Dunma or Gaddison walking up as they had always been early risers, but he instead saw the Hylian. Their eyes were wide in fear, staring at Sidon, only breaking eye contact to look around the room for an escape.

Dunma, Gaddison, and Bazz were still asleep, the Hylian seeming to not notice them yet, their eyes staring stock straight at Sidon. Their breathing quickened, eyes barely glancing away from Sidon. Sidon didn't know what to do. Should he try to approach the Hylian? Start a conversation? Block the exits? He decided that he should put his hands up in the air to show that he had no ill will towards them, to show that he won't attack them.

It was a good idea, but when Sidon started to slowly move, the Hylian launched themselves out of the sleeping bag, trying to get to the window. They didn't get very far though, their wounds still not healed fully and still painful. They fell down after two steps, backing themselves against a wall and scrounging the ground for any available weapon. Their hands found the axe for the wood and held it up as if it were a sword pointed straight at Sidon. Their expression pained as they did this, however, the action putting unneeded pressure on their wounds.

The scuffle woke everyone else up, reaching for their weapons as they rose to see what was going on. Sidon, hands in the air at this point, looked back and forth between the Hylian and his friends.

Bazz glanced between Sidon and the axe held in the Hylain's hands. He made a quick decision and, before anyone could tell him not to or for Sidon to explain the situation, he ran, sword drawn, at the Hylian. The Hylian couldn't react quick enough, swiping with the axe but missing entirely and giving Bazz a giant opening to stab the Hylian through the shoulder.

Link was pinned again. Link was again with monsters, but these ones he couldn't recognize. They were giant fish almost, looking a bit like how his Potions Master had described a shark- at least that's what Link thought they were called. What were giant fish-sharks doing in Hebra? And why were they so aggressive?

Why was Link alive? He had been dying! Why wasn't he dead? He had lost so much blood! He was unable to tend to his wounds before he passed out. Had they saved him?

“Sidon!” the one who stabbed him yelled at the red one. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.” the red one- Sidon?- answered.

“Bazz!” another one of the fish-sharks yelped after a couple seconds- everyone needing a bit of time to process what just happened. “My patient!”

“Your patient tried to kill the prince!” the one who stabbed Link through the shoulder refuted. He (their voice was low, so Link could only assume) gave one last shove at his sword, making sure that it was fully pinning Link to the wall (Just like the Lynel) and briskly walked the few steps to the fish-shark he was arguing with.

“My patient did nothing! You stabbed them before they could do anything!”

“It swung at me with an axe! It tried to take my head off!”

“Will you stop referring to the Hylian as ‘it’! They are a person! They are alive! And they should be treated with respect!”

“The day that I respect a Hylian is the day that I die.”

The argument was about to continue further, but the red fish-shark that was awake when Link awoke stood up. “Woah. Woah. Woah. Everyone needs to stop yelling at each other and talk it out like the civilized Zora we are!”

The room went quiet, the tension thick. Link tried to keep his breathing quiet but the adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins was slowly wearing thin, making the new wound (and the old ones) much more known to Link whenever he so much as breathed.

“Sidon, why don’t you tell us what happened before we all woke up?” There was another one?! How many were there?! Link thought that there had been only three before, but now a fourth one just showed up out of nowhere! Where did they come from? Did they teleport? All of them spoke, some more nicely than others, and their voices didn’t seem warped like the Lynel’s had been- but what if their voices were warped and Link just didn’t know because he had never encountered this type of monster before.

Should he try to run? Attack? It was four against one. Four very tall, unharmed fish-sharks with weapons, and one tired, injured Hylian who- if he was lucky- could snag the sword in his shoulder or the axe a couple feet away from him.

The odds did not look good.

“They did nothing wrong!” the red fish-shark explained. “They woke up and was afraid, so I put my hands up to show that I’m not going to hurt them. They’re scared, Bazz! And you made them even more scared.” The four fish-sharks turned to look at Link in unison. Three of the four eyes were sympathetic in some way, but one pair only held hatred. And they looked a lot like the Lynel’s did: hatred- pure hatred.

“Permission to help the Hylian!” one of the fish-sharks squeaked. They had a higher pitched voice and was slightly (only slightly) shorter than the other three. Female? A she? The red fish-shark sighed, putting his head in his hands.

“Dunma, you don’t need to ask stuff like that. I’m not the king.” The female one- Dunma?- only looked at the not-king with pleading eyes. He sighed, “Permission granted. But please stop speaking like that.”

Dunma (definitely Dunma, Link decided) took careful steps towards a pack on the floor, reaching in and bringing out a smaller satchel with a small red cross on it. She made direct eye contact with Link and slowly, ever so slowly and carefully, walked towards him. She made no sudden movements and kept her eyes and demeanor soft the entire time. The one with hatred-filled eyes scoffed and stalked out of the cabin- a blast of cold air rushing into the cabin and settling on and around everything like a fine dust. Link shivered but kept eye-contact with Dunma. He didn’t trust her too much, but she hadn’t attacked him yet. She slowly knelt beside Link.

“May I remove the sword from your shoulder?” she asked. Link blinked. She was asking his permission? The healers back in Castle Town would just waltz up to Link, rip the sword out, pour some ale on the wound, and then burn it back together with a red hot sword. Link nodded silently. It was a strange concept to him- being asked if he was okay with something being done to him. It felt nice though? Link wasn’t too sure. Maybe this was just this monster’s way of getting Link’s guard down so that they could murder him in cold blood.

So why did they save him then?

The Hylian was so small.

When Bazz stormed out and the cold air blew in, the Hylian shivered. Sidon had only ever seen the Rito do that when they were drying their feathers off after they got wet. They were so cute! Exactly like a duckling- a duckling that got hurt under Sidon’s protection.

They never let their gaze fall from where Dunma was slowly approaching. The only sign that they might be in distress was the tighter gripping of the tunic that they wore where their uninjured arm was held.

After Dunma asked permission to remove the sword, a look of confusion swept over the Hylian’s face. Why was that so confusing? Dunma just didn’t want to go too far out of the Hylian’s comfort range. So why did they look even more scared?

They nodded slowly- their eyes glancing between the sword and Dunma. Were they planning on attacking? Bazz would think that they were and proceed to grab a weapon (probably Gaddison’s spear) and ram in through the head of the Hylian and making sure that they were dead.

“This is going to hurt so…” Dunma looked around for something. She dug around in her medical bag and produced a bottle wrapped in leather. Quickly unwrapping the leather from the bottle (a small one which contained a green, shiny-ish liquid that was probably from the Rito), Dunma motioned for the Hylian to open their mouth and bite down on the leather. “So that you don’t bite your tongue off.”

The Hylian (probably just wanting to get the sword out of their shoulder) barely hesitated before nodding and opening their mouth a tiny bit. Dunma asked if they could open a little wider so that she could ensure that the leather wouldn’t slip, and also, “To protect your teeth so that none of them get chipped or broken. Trust me. It hurts.” The Hylian did as they were told, allowing Dunma to position the leather in their mouth before clamping down on it. Dunma had given a little gasp when the Hylian obeyed the instructions- a shudder running through her as she grabbed the hilt of the sword.

“Sidon? Gaddison?” Dunma asked the two other Zora. Slowly they approached. “This is Sidon, and this is Gaddison. They’re nice and they’re not going to hurt you. They’re just going to help me remove this sword, is that okay?”

A few moments of hesitation later and the Hylian nodded again. Dunma instructed Sidon to push the Hylian into the wall while Dunma and Gaddison made sure that the sword came out as smoothly as possible. Everyone got into position (Sidon making sure that he had permission to do his part from the Hylian) and pulled.

A scream tore its way through the throat of the Hylian- their back arching from pain, their jaw clamping hard on the leather. The scream was exactly like the one that Sidon and his group had heard back before they found the Hylian. He wasn’t surprised that the Hylian had made that noise- they had been injured quite gravely beforehand.

The sword was out.

The Hylian sagged forward, their jaw still clenched but clearly very tired and in pain from everything that just happened. Sidon kept his arms around the Hylian, making sure that they didn’t fall over- and relishing in the fact that he was having contact with a Hylian- an actual Hylian. A little baby duckling that was now going to be in his care because Sidon decided that he didn’t like it when the Hylian was hurt. They were so small, they seemed so delicate. They shouldn’t be hurt.

Blood poured forth from the wound as Dunma quickly began to stitch together the cut. She apologized every single time she drew the needle through skin, every single time she pulled string through that. Her apologies and the harsh breathing of the Hylian filled the room- the previous tension left behind by Bazz was no longer present- the cold chill that replaced his presence no longer lingered as the air warmed up.

The Hylian had done nothing wrong, they were hurt, scared, and confused, and Bazz hurt them quite terribly. Sidon had offered to use his healing powers, but Dunma shot him down, reminding him that they needed to be on the road to the Domain soon should they want to make it out of the mountains by nightfall. “And the last thing that we need is an exhausted prince. You can carry the Hylian if you wish, but that’s it.” she had said in a stern tone.

By the time that she was finished, the Hylian had lost consciousness, falling limp in Sidon’s arms, breathing evening out ever so slightly. Dunma quickly checked on their other wounds, made sure that everything was healing nice and properly (and that nothing else required stitches) before instructing Sidon to start packing things up and for Gaddison to go and fetch Bazz. “He may hate the Hylian, but he’s a part of this team and we need him.”

In twenty minutes everyone was ready to go. Everyone had quickly shoved some food down their throats and bundled up whilst getting everything together. The Hylian was put into two sleeping bags that were wrapped around them in a way so that nothing would fall off. They were cradled in Sidon’s arms almost like a child- they were only slightly larger than a Zora child, so the comparison was quite apt. Bazz took up the front (as per his request), Dunma walked behind him, Sidon behind her, and Gaddison bringing up the rear.

The sky was still a painting when they set off for the base of the Hebra mountains.

Light conversation flooded the air the closer that the group got to the base of the mountains.

They were almost to a stable where they could rent beds and sleep in a warm room- have warm food! The formation broke some (see: entirely) when Dunma dropped behind to walk beside Sidon and check up on the Hylian. Gaddison shrugged and ran to the front in order to walk beside Bazz- the two having seemingly random conversations about the weirdest things (Sidon heard conversations about how the Rito are able to braid their feathers, if the Goron are all one sex or not, the best way to skewer a bokoblin, and how to make flower crowns).

“They don’t have a tongue.” Dunma said once the conversation between her and Sidon about Hylian health died off.

Sidon was taken aback. “Is that normal?”

Dunma shook her head, “It can’t be. All other Hylians witnessed are capable of complex speech- they have tongues.” She looked solemnly over at the Hylian in Sidon’s arms, “Theirs looked cut off.”

Sidon looked down at the small Hylian. Their nose and cheeks were red from the cold- their eyes still shut and their breaths deep. Someone had hurt this Hylian- taking away the ability of speech. Sidon had heard about how corrupt their Queen was, but going this far? Was it even done by the Queen? If not, then who? It had to have been another Hylian. A few moments of silence passed, the whispered chatter of Bazz and Gaddison slightly filling up the air.

“I don’t know how we’ll get information now,” Dunma closed her eyes and sighed, “I don’t know if they have a way of communicating outside of ‘Yes or No’ questions. If that’s the case, I don’t know what the King is going to do with them.”

“I’m sure that they have some way of communicating. It’ll be fine.” Sidon tried to sound reassuring- he wasn’t sure how reassuring he sounded though. He was trying to convince both himself and Dunma that this precious Hylian would be safe.

Sidon then made the decision that, with him, they would be.

Chapter Text

Link was forced to his knees, soldiers restrained him by the shoulders as he fought to remain calm, still, and silent. The Queen walked towards him, the sharp knife catching the subtle lighting of the candles lining the walls. The only sounds heard were her loud footsteps as each shoe clanged against the stone floor.

Link swallowed his fear and kept looking down, eye-contact would get him hit again. His Potions Master stood to the side, watching as his Apprentice was accepted by the Queen as the new Potions Master.

The Queen leaned down in front of Link, toying with the knife as she spoke. “Repeat to me why I’m doing this. Permission to speak.”

Link answered quickly, “To ensure none of Castle Town’s secrets are stolen.” He tried not to flinch at the end of his answer when he saw the knife move towards him. It cradled his chin and forced his face upwards where he was suddenly looking at the face of the Queen. He wanted desperately to put his head back down, but the knife, sharpened so that it sliced through an apple like it were goat butter, was barely touching his skin. Any small movement would draw blood.

“Look me in the eyes. That is an order.” the Queen said in a calm manner. Link, terrified, obeyed.

Her eyes were striking, but not in the way that Link thought that they would be. He thought that they would be a rich brown like the soil in the crop fields, maybe a vibrant blue like the river that ran around Castle Town, or maybe a light green like tree leaves in spring. He was wrong. Dead wrong. Her eyes swirled with purples and reds, the colours fighting one another as they mixed and separated. Her entire eyes glowed as she stared down Link.

“Not many people get to look the Queen in the eyes.” she signaled one of the guards to grab Link’s tongue and hold it out. “Many of those who do are sacrifices, for the Dungeon Master wants them to be afraid as they die. You, however,” she laughed to herself as she stood, taking aim at Link’s tongue with the knife. “I want fear in your soul so that you don’t disobey your Queen!” she swung down and hit true.

Link’s tongue tumbled to the floor, his ability to speak forever muted, and the secrets of Castle Town forever enclosed in his mind, never to see the light of day.

“The Blood Moon will pass before we reach the Domain,” Bazz said from where he stood just outside their camp.

“How do you know this?” Gaddison didn’t even look up from what he was cooking to ask his question; just kept on stirring the soup over the fire.

Bazz pointed up towards the night sky, “See the moon?”

“Uh-huh.” Gaddison didn’t look up.

“See how it’s almost full?”

“Yep.”

“See the stars?”

A hum of approval was the only response given.

Bazz quickly re-entered the camp and stood beside the other Zora, arms crossed. “You weren’t looking! There aren’t any stars out this early in the morning!”

Gaddison sighed and looked at his friend, “Look, not all of us are huge astrology buffs, okay?” he turned back to the soup, “And besides,” he continued, “why worry about it? Monsters are going to reappear, I’m so scared!” he feigned terror and went back to stirring.

Bazz scoffed. “Hylians get possessed by Malice during the Blood Moon.”

A snort, “That can’t be true. Who’d you hear that from?”

“Muzu”

Gaddison stifled his laughter, careful not to wake Sidon or Dunma up. “You actually believe what that old guy says?”

“He speaks the truth! The Hylians are connected to the Malice and let it consume them during Blood Moons!”

“Is that why you hate the Hylian?” Gaddison expected an answer right away, a confirmation of his beliefs and then a further explanation. But none of that ever came. Gaddison stopped stirring the soup and slowly turned to face his friend. He looked sad, troubled. He poured salt in some kind of wound. He didn’t know what to say.

“Kodah,” Bazz said softly.

Gaddison became more confused. “He got lost in the Gerudo Desert and got dehydrated.”

Bazz shook his head. “Kodah never got close to the Desert. A group of Hylian soldiers ambushed him on the road, ripped him up, and infected him with Malice. Fronk and I were the ones who found him clinging to life and sanity on the side of the path. He begged us to kill him.

“We buried him in the nearby river and brought the news back to the King. He created the cover story so as not to elicit panic amongst everyone when they figured out Kodah was gone.” Bazz looked back up at the moon, “I still hear him sometimes, his voice begging to be killed as he choked on his own blood.”

Silence enveloped the campsite, nothing moved, sadness emitting like an aura from Bazz. Gaddison looked at the Hylian that Sidon was curled around protectively; they looked so innocent and fragile- how could someone like that be capable of taking down an entire Zora? How could someone like that be evil? Sidon had taken to being quite fond of the Hylian, so could they- or at least, that particular one- be all that bad?

Wood creaked and stone groaned as the guillotine was set up in the middle of Castle Town. The Blood Moon would appear in a couple of hours and everything needed to be perfect! Blacksmiths sharpened the blade, builders reinforced the structure, and the soldiers stood guard around it all, threatening those who ventured too close with a sharp sword and a shout. The Queen stood watching from her chambers as maids made adjustments and touch-ups to her ceremonial dress.

The Dungeon Master helped design it in his image: a deep burgundy interwoven with fiery reds and oranges and hemmed with thick black. It was stained with the blood of sacrifices previous when the Queen got too close when the blade flew down and splattered blood everywhere. Those stains became a permanent feature of the dress as the Dungeon Master said that it added an element that could not be replicated with fabric or paints.

The Queen could barely contain her excitement as the night drew nearer and the moon started to rise. Soon, unlimited power would be hers and not just Castle Town would quake in fear at the mere mention of her name. Soon everyone would fall to their knees at her presence. A terrifying force of power with nothing to stop it! Soon, the Malice would consume everything and the entire world would be under her rule!

Once the sun was completely gone, the Queen made her way out of the castle and into the town proper. Followed closely behind her was many guards and a long line of her prisoners ready for sacrifice to the Dungeon Master.

The stone was painted with red before any stars twinkled into the sky. All of Castle Town was gathered around the centre of town, a small perimeter set up around the stage where the blood would spill. The Queen wanted every drop of blood to be untouched as she wanted to see the final art piece as it was painted by the guillotine.

Twenty-six heads would be separated from bodies, and those twenty-six bodies would be strung up by the ankles to bleed out onto the stone before being burned: their souls taken by the Dungeon Master as soon as the guillotine met flesh.

The Queen let out a squeak of joy every time the blade rushed down and beheaded the prisoners. She stared at them, making constant eye-contact throughout the entire process. The heads tumbled into her lap where the blood soaked into her dress and created new art. The heads were burned right away as the body was strung up and another prisoner was placed in the guillotine.

The blood flowed freely onto the stones below, mixing and swirling, bubbling and frothing, drying and coagulating. It steamed in the cold winter air, melting any snow and creating even more swirls and other strange effects. The art piece was revived again, more and more beautiful with each and every passing second.

The Blood Moon slowly made its presence known as everything began to take on a red hue. The air stunk of metal as the last prisoner was hoisted onto the stage and seated in the guillotine. A young boy in the soldier training programme found sneaking out of Castle Town with a small bag of rations: running away from the safety of the kingdom and into the wild unknowns at only twelve.

“He’s the last one,” the Dungeon Master whispered into the Queen’s ear. “One more and my power shall be yours, and everyone…”

The Queen smirked, “Will fear Queen Zelda.” Such a momentous occasion. Her goal that her family line had been fighting for for years was almost complete. She was the one to complete it!

This called for a speech! Or, if not a speech proper, some kind of announcement.

“Citizens of Castle Town!” the Queen bellowed as she stood up and addressed everyone. “It is my pleasure to relay the information bestowed upon me by the Dungeon Master himself!”

A small murmur ran through the crowd before dying off as quickly as it appeared. Everyone’s attention was on the Queen, fear evident in their eyes and stature.

“The Dungeon Master is almost free! The goal to which all of us have been working towards for years is almost upon us. Soon, all the far reaches of this land will be under our rule! Soon, everyone shall obey us as unlimited power will be ours!” the Queen exclaimed following many excited hand gestures. “All that’s left is one more soul of a traitor and all that shall be ours! Riches and land beyond our wildest dreams will belong to us!”

The crowd cheered in response. Only one more and they would be free and have more land to their names. They could expand and the Queen would let them as there’d be no more need for constant surveillance.

A chant started as the Queen knelt back down to the eye-level of the traitor, tears gathering in his eyes as the chant of “Spill his blood! Spill his blood!” grew louder and more demanding. The Queen grabbed hold of his chin and yanked his head upwards to meet his eyes with hers.

His tear-filled eyes were stern, terrified, and pissed-off at the same time. His voice trembled but held a firm resolve as he managed to spit out, “Death to the Crown.” before the blade came rushing down and the boy’s head tumbled into the lap of the Queen.

She smiled triumphantly and held the head by the hair. Standing up, she thrust her fist in the hair, the head swinging from side to side, fresh blood dripping hot from the stump. The crowd’s cheers became almost deafening.

“We have done it, Citizens of Castle Town! The Dungeon Master is now free and shall-”the Queen cut off as a sharp pain cut through her skull.

Everything became too loud.

Too bright.

Too much.

She dropped the head, letting it tumble off the stage as she gripped her ears to try and stop the loud ringing that filled her ears. Her face scrunched in pain, the Queen stumbled to get off the stage and back into the silence of the castle. She failed in this endeavor though as she couldn’t find her footing and toppled off the stage like the head she dropped.

Landing in the pool of drying blood, the Queen screamed as the pain in her head started getting stronger. Something was pounding on the inside of her skull, wanting to be let out. The cheering of the crowd stopped as everyone watched their Queen writhe in pain on the blood-covered ground. Her guards started rushing forward to help her but before they could reach her a pulse of energy radiated out from her. The Queen stilled on the ground, her back arched and her mouth open in a silent scream as the whole world stopped for a second.

Then chaos erupted.

Red and black fire erupted out of the Queen’s eyes, spewing into the sky and plunging everything into a darker shade of red. The fire turned into smoke, blotting out the stars and only letting the Blood Moon shine through. A creature then erupted out of the Queen a few seconds later, spurring those who hadn’t run away from fear yet to snap to their senses and follow their neighbors to safety.

The glowing, flaming head of a boar emerged, flying up into the sky and circling around the castle, letting out a giant roar of terror as it did so.

Citizens were running around, screaming. Some were quickly packing as much as they could into bags before trying to escape the town. Not many got far. The red and black fire landed on the ground, on houses, on people, and started burning. Some tried to put it out to save their homes and friends but the flames just grew bigger and bigger, taller and taller, with more and more intensity.

The boar kept on circling the castle, letting out roars and depositing red and black swirling piles of goop everywhere. Said goop started emitting some kind of fumes that left anyone nearby coughing and sputtering, gasping for air as they clawed at their own necks.

Sections of the castle started collapsing onto the town; giant boulder-sized chunks landing near or on top of civilians, causing even more panic.

But, as the Blood Moon waned, the screams of the Citizens of Castle Town grew fewer. The smoke started to clear and the red light of the Blood Moon turned back into the white light of the normal moon. Not many survived, but those that did had wishes that they were with their families in death. Their entire livelihoods were gone, all their life’s work destroyed. Houses were nothing more than a few semi-collapsed walls, the fields were burnt to ash, the castle looked as if half of it was completely destroyed.

Blood painted the landscape as the surviving citizens looked on as large snowflakes began to fall from the sky, attempting to cover up all that had transpired. The boar in the sky was gone, but replacing it was the Queen swirling in the same red and black smoke from earlier, skipping around the destruction from earlier with a wicked smile on her face and yellow glowing eyes.

Chapter Text

“That’s the Blood Moon,” Gaddison said as he looked up at the sky. The rest of the group followed his eyes, their own landing on the bright moon hanging innocently in the sky: its colour slowly shifting from a pure white to a deep blood red. The pinpricks of starlight had begun to fade as well as dark clouds rolled in to cover them.

“That’s not good,” Dunma commented before returning her attention to the now awake Hylian. Said Hylian had woken up a couple hours before, nearly making Sidon drop them in their scuffle to get free of any and all constriction. They had been scared at first, rightfully so, seeing as their possible last clear memory had been Bazz running them through with a sword. It had taken some coaxing from both Dunma and Sidon for the Hylian to calm enough to have their injuries looked at; at which point, the group decided that setting up camp would be easier than continuing to move towards the Domain.

“Y’know what they say the Blood Moon is caused by?” Bazz asked everyone, his eyes on the fire where a couple of fish were staked into the ground and roasting. No one wanted to humour him. “Hylians.” He completed after a couple of seconds in silence, sending a glare to the Hylian sitting off to his side.

“Bazz…” Gaddison said in a disapproving tone.

Bazz scoffed before picking up his sword and moving to the perimeter of the camp. He took some swings at an innocent tree. Poor tree hadn’t done anything to offend him.

“Just ignore him, Gaddison.” Dunma said as she re-wrapped the Hylian’s shoulder in bandages. The wound had begun to heal nicely, though a bit slower than she would have liked. Then again, she was comparing it to Zora healing rates, so maybe Hylian’s just healed slower? Or maybe this Hylian was just unlucky? It wasn’t exactly like she could ask them.

She had been right, however, about the Hylian not being able to speak. Sidon had asked them their name and they made a gesture with their hands. It hadn’t looked rude or unfriendly, so the group continued to wait until the Hylian spoke.

The Hylian, in turn, looked at them, confusion marring their features, before making the same gesture again. It had taken the group a couple seconds to realize that that was the Hylian’s name, that gesture.

“It’s sign,” Bazz grumbled, refusing to look at the Hylian more than he had to, “And a gross bastardization of it too.” He spat angrily, the grip on his sword hilt tightening.

The Hylian made more signs directed at Bazz, said signs looking a bit angrier than their name had been.

“Do you understand sign?” Sidon had asked.

Bazz nodded, “Though not this. Those signs have no meaning. The ones we use are for communicating in high stress situations when we can’t speak. I have no idea what it’s trying to say when it moves its hands around like that.”

“Stop calling them an ‘it!’” Dunma practically growled, moving closer to the Hylian to shield them from Bazz’s view. “They have a name, even if we can’t pronounce it yet!”

The two had been at a stalemate for the past hour, each refusing to speak directly to the other. Gaddison, having been left behind by Sidon who was off doing who knows what, had been forced to play mitigator. He had tried many topics to try and get the two to speak to the other, if only to alleviate some of the tension in the air.

Nothing had worked.

Minutes passed by, the only sounds heard were the crackling of the fire and the quiet words of comfort that Dunma was saying to the Hylian. Said Hylian was nodding attentively at whatever Dunma was talking about, grimacing every once in a while when their wounds irritated themselves. They also kept glancing up at the forming Blood Moon, fear lacing their expression every time they did so. The tense atmosphere did not dissipate, not even when Sidon came back a couple minutes later, arms full of firewood and sap-covered tree bark. He deposited them a good distance away from the fire and sat down beside Gaddison on the log.

“What’s got Bazz in such a tizzy?” Sidon asked, his voice low so not to be heard by Bazz.

“We ignored his comment about the Blood Moon being caused by Hylians,” Gaddison explained, tone matching the Prince’s. They looked over at Bazz, still continuing to slash at the innocent tree. “You’re going to severely dull your blade!” Gaddison called out. His words were met by a deadly glare and a rude gesture before Bazz went back to swinging.

The two shared a look and shrugged. There wasn’t exactly anything they could do about Bazz now that his anger had gotten this bad. But then again, he had made a pretty rude comment, so maybe he deserved a dull sword, even though it meant that their next encounter with enemies would be that much more difficult.

“How’s the Hylian?” Sidon asked, turning to Dunma and said Hylian. They two were sat on the ground beside the fire, the Hylian’s tunic stripped off to give Dunma better access to all their wounds; though, the wounds were not the only things to be seen on the Hylian’s torso. Multiple scars marred their skin, all different shapes, thicknesses, and lengths. Some were so old that they were nothing but discoloured flesh, others were white and raised up, and others still were angry and concave as if not fully healed.

“He’s doing well,” Dunma supplied.

Sidon noticed the difference in the address, “He?” he asked.

Dunma nodded, “It took some charades, but he got across that he takes the same pronouns as you three.”

Sidon looked at the Hylian, “Anyway we can charade your name?” he asked.

The Hylian seemed to consider this for a moment. He signed his name and then stopped in thought. A few concentrated seconds later, he nodded and held up a new sign. His thumb and forefinger were pressed together on each hand, the loops of the two intertwining with each other. He pulled his hands apart some, but the finger loops stopped them from going far. His two hands were securely linked together.

Sidon blinked in confusion, not quite understanding what the Hylian was trying to say. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one with a braincell in their group.

“Link?” Gaddison asked, head tilting to the side.

The Hylian – Link – nodded. Link was his name. A strange name, Sidon thought, though, he was being a bit hypocritical. Sidon, Dunma, Gaddison, and Bazz weren’t the most creative names either. Besides, Link fit the duckling Hylian.

“That’s a very nice name.” Dunma commented, “Suits you somehow.”

Gaddison reintroduced the group to Link, citing that, “If we did it before, you might not remember it, because I sure don’t.”

Bazz had come back to brooding on his side of the log once the fish had been thoroughly cooked. He still refused to make any eye-contact with Link, still calling him ‘it’ whenever Bazz mentioned him.

The night was going peacefully, though a constant feeling of anxiety put everyone off of truly relaxing. The moon continued to turn more and more red as time slowly passed. The dark clouds had started swarming in faster and faster. They didn’t look particularly thunderous, though they did look like they were packing a precipitation of some kind.

The group eventually decided to at least try to sleep, or at the very least, rest their eyes. The Domain was close, but it was still a half-days journey from where they were now, and they needed to get some kind of rest in order to travel. Sidon decided to take first watch for everyone, letting Link use his sleeping roll to keep warm. The poor Hylian kept shivering even in his tunic, swathed in a bed roll, and as close to the fire that he could get without actually being in said fire.

Sidon stole glances every now again, pulling his attention away from the moon. Everyone seemed to have fallen into a light sleep of some kind, just enough that they weren’t fully asleep, but would still take a bit of rousing to fully awake. Sidon looked back up at the moon, then at the forest surrounding them, then back to the group. Moon, forest, group. Moon, forest, group. Moon, forest, group. He nearly made himself dizzy with the repetitive eye motions.

The clouds moving faster in the sky caught his attention and made his eyes linger on the moon. It was bright red, reminding Sidon of the way Link’s blood had stained the snow back on Hebra mountain. It stood out, a stark contrast to everything else around it. The air began to tint to the same red, black and red pieces of something started swirling around. They looked and acted exactly as paper did when thrown into a fire – festering and burning before being launched into the sky to slowly swirl around and fall to the ground, completely at the mercy of the wind.
The air became harder to breathe as it thickened with an almost imperceptible smoke. The clouds began to race by, the red and black paper-like pieces began to swirl more violently. The moon turned a deeper and thicker shade of red, becoming harder and harder for Sidon to tear his eyes away from.

He heard the rest of his group stir and sit up in their bedrolls. The fire had long since gone out, replaced only by barely burning coals that only served to darken the area and ramp up the anxiety of the group.

They had experienced many Blood Moons before, but this one seemed… off. There was something about it that wasn’t sitting quite right with Sidon. He never remembered the Blood Moon turning such a sickening shade of red, nor did he remember the air getting thick with a smoke-like substance. It also seemed to be building up for a lot longer than usual as well. Normally, there would be a minute of buildup before midnight, then a minute afterwards as everything slowed down and went back to normal.

Something wasn’t right.

Something was very, very wrong.

Link knew this feeling – he knew this feeling all too well. He stared at the sky, the Blood Moon turning more and more red by the second. The swirling pieces of red and black were as prevalent as they were in the dungeons of the castle. The smoke was the same as the dungeons as well, the overwhelming pressure and anxiety feeding off of it was reminiscent as well.

Had the Queen actually…? No, certainly not. Link had never really listened when the Queen rambled on about the Dungeon Master, nor did he ever really care to learn more about it. He just wanted to drop his potions off and receive his next assignment so that he could escape the torturous atmosphere of the castle and surrounding town as soon as he possible could.

But now, sitting here, middle of the woods, surrounded by strangers, and wrapped up in another being’s bedroll, Link could only manage to stare at the Blood Moon in disbelief, refusing to think of what was happening at the castle at that exact moment. He knew that the Queen would be performing her sacrifice to the Dungeon Master, but did that have an effect on the Blood Moon? If so… this wasn’t good.

It wasn’t like he could warn his newfound groupmates about what was going on anyway, none of them speaking sign enough to allow them to communicate easily. He and Dunma had also found that, though their spoken speech was nearly identical (Link being able to understand Dunma perfectly), their written languages were just off enough that it would take some serious leaps in logic for one to understand the other.

He felt the Blood Moon reach it’s most intense; the air growing so thick it was almost impossible to breathe, the red and black swirled around so quickly they looked like Hot-Footed frogs, the clouds moving almost imperceptibly fast, and the moon turning a violent, bloody red.

A high pitched, shrill scream sounded through the air, causing Link to cover his ears and curl in on himself. It dug into his ears with a vengeance no matter how hard he pressed his hands to them. It dug and dug and swirled in his mind. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t hear. The smoke was so thick, Link could almost swear that he was sitting in the middle of a bonfire, the screaming so loud it almost sounded like it was coming from inside his head.

And all at once, as suddenly as it came, the screaming stopped. The silence rang in Link’s ears as he slowly opened his eyes to look at everyone else. No one else had their hands covering their ears, though they were all looking in the direction of the castle.

Link followed their eyes, lucky that they were on a hill and had a clear vision to the castle.

He wished they didn’t though.

Red and black fire swirled around the castle, growing higher and higher in the air, almost as if sentient. Piercing yellow eyes formed on the fire, a mouth full of teeth following suit. It looked like some kind of boar, though Link was unable to dwell on that fact for long.

The boar opened it’s mouth and a deep, animalistic growl escaped from it’s mouth, reaching the group where they camped a good dozen kilometers away. The distance did nothing to damper the sound as it tore through everyone, each member of the group wincing and clutching at their ears, praying desperately for it to stop.

Link, through his pained grimace, noticed some red and black fire falling from the sky and landing near them. As soon as the fire touched ground, it started spreading, burning everything it touched to a crisp. The fire wasn’t the only thing landing from the sky. Link noticed some swirling balls of red, black, and purple goop fall and take hold of anything it landed on. The group was lucky to not get hit, as far as Link noted anyhow.

Soon, the low-pitched growling stopped, the red and black fire-boar slowly dissipating from around the castle, though some of the fire remained burning on some areas of the castle. Link slowly uncovered his ears and looked around. Dunma, Gaddison, and Sidon also uncovered their ears, glancing around at the swirling piles of goop and slowly dissipating fires.

All around the camp, grass and other plants were burnt to a crisp, an entire tree was blackened by soot, and part of the path discoloured and uneven. Soon, the fire stopped completely, though the goop stubbornly refused to do anything but sit menacingly wherever it had landed. The smoke in the air cleared and breathing became easier. The red tint of the air persisted until the moon became a pearly white once again. The clouds began dropping snow. Thick snowflakes dropped down from the sky, sticking to everything as the goop had done.

“Is it over?” Gaddison asked quietly, though in the silence following what had just assaulted everyone’s eardrums, it sounded like the boar was growling again.

“I think so,” Dunma looked around cautiously. “I’ve never seen it that bad before. Is everyone alright?”

“Good here,” Sidon nodded. He looked to Link, who nodded and held a thumbs up. “Gaddison?”

“In one piece,” he answered. “Bazz?” Gaddison looked to where Bazz had been, his breath catching in his throat.

Bazz was hunched over in pain, some of the swirling goop attached to his shoulder and refusing to let go. He was clawing at it viciously, though his movements were beginning to slow. His eyes were panicked as he looked at the group. His voice strained, “Get… it… off of… me…” as he desperately sought help, standing up and stumbling over to Sidon. He didn’t get very far, only a couple steps before his legs gave out on him. He fell to the ground in a heap, his body shaking and convulsing in pain.

Link felt a sudden burning pain on the back of his left hand that called his attention away from the suffering Zora on the ground – the other three hovering cautiously, unsure of what to do. He grabbed his left hand and squeezed it tight with the other, hoping that the pressure would help alleviate the pain.

It only made it worse.

Link curled in on himself, his hand feeling as if he had dunked it into the lava on Death Mountain. He had done that once, though it was with his boot covered foot after he slipped trying to catch a salamander. This had nothing on that as the burning turned into a blinding pulse in sync with his rapidly beating heart.

His ears started ringing, his vision darkening and clouding at the edges, his nerves so fried with pain that he couldn’t tell where the pain started, nor where it ended. He stumbled up to his feet, swaying dangerously as he got there. There was some force driving him to do this, though he couldn’t explain it; it was like he was watching someone else control his body for him and having no input on the matter.

His vision blurred and spun as he found himself walking towards the writhing Zora. Link couldn’t tell if the screams he was hearing over the ringing in his ears belonged to Bazz or himself. There was too much going on, his senses getting too much information. The air was too cold, the moon was too bright, everything hurt too much, there was too much sound.

Link fell to his knees beside Bazz whose clawing had turned into barely any movement as he begged for help. Link, out of his own control, held out his left hand over the Zora’s body, his own shaking uncontrollably. The ringing, the blinding light, the searing pain, everything was slowly clearing up.

As Link’s vision cleared, he saw that there was some kind of glowing, golden symbol on the back of his hand, though everything was still too blurry to make it out properly. The pain began subsiding gradually, as if it were a raging inferno slowly being doused by water. His shaking slowly stopped as well. Everything became peaceful as silence took over the ringing from his ears.

A golden light was dancing around Bazz, originating from Link’s hand. The light grew brighter over the areas that the swirling goo had latched hold and refused to let go of. Bazz gradually stopped writhing in pain, his features softening as the light continued to dance around him.

Slowly, the light began to fade, Link’s entire body shaking like a leaf. He slowly removed his arm from over Bazz and felt himself pitch towards the side, his vision darkening quickly, his consciousness escaping him before he could even hit the ground.

Sidon hadn’t been fast enough to catch Link as he pitched and fell onto his injured shoulder. He just couldn’t seem to catch a break. He rushed to Link’s side as Dunma rushed to Bazz’s, both making sure that the other was okay.

Sidon gingerly picked up Link who was shivering violently, though from the cold or from exertion, Sidon couldn’t tell. To be on the safe side, however, Sidon gently tucked Link into the bedroll and held him in his arms, hoping that the action would help to warm the Hylian up faster.

Dunma was looking over Bazz with cautious eyes, not exactly sure what to do. No one had known what to do when they first saw him clawing violently at his shoulder, desperate to get the swirling goop off. Then Link had stumbled over, some kind of light coming out of his hand, possibly originating from the glowing triangle-symbol on the back of his hand, and magically healed Bazz.
Bazz though, like Link, was unconscious, though did seem to be completely healed.

“Nothing’s left on him as far as I can tell,” Dunma reported. “Gaddison, can you help me put him in his bedroll?”

Gaddison, who had been standing off to the side, still in shock at what he had just witnessed, jumped into action once he had proper instructions. He and Dunma carefully placed Bazz in his bedroll, the sleeping Zora not stirring once throughout the ordeal.

Sidon managed to put Link down long enough to get the fire started again, the snow not dampening the wood too badly. The three awake members of the group sat around it, staring into the orange and yellow flames, listening to the occasional crack as the fire ate at the wood and tree sap.

No one said anything. No one really knew what to say. What was there to say after witnessing something like that?

“Is he okay? Link?” Gaddison asked, uncomfortable by the silence.

Sidon nodded, the Hylian back in his arms as he held Link as close to the fire as he dared. Thankfully, most of Link’s shaking had stopped, now only small tremors ran through his body occasionally, causing him to take in sharper breaths.

Silence enveloped the group once more, the sound of a crackling fire soothing to the ears that just heard their friend scream in agony not fifteen minutes prior.

“Is that symbol still on his hand?” Gaddison tore his gaze from the fire to look at Sidon. “I don’t know what it was, but doesn’t it look familiar?”

Dunma nodded as she too looked over at Sidon, awaiting an answer. Sidon was curious as well. He hadn’t gotten too good of a look at it from where he was standing – all he could make out was that it was a glowing triangle of some kind. He gently dug Link’s left arm out of the bedroll and held it out for them all to look at.

Sure enough, the symbol was still there, though it was no longer glowing and seemed almost dull because of it. Three triangles stacked in a way to form one larger triangle, with the bottom left portion darkened more so than the rest.

“It does look familiar,” Dunma muttered, “Though I can’t put my finger on why.”

“Maybe it was something we saw back in Rito Village?” Sidon suggested as he carefully put Link’s arm back in the bedroll.

Gaddison shrugged, “Could be a possibility, but it seems more familiar than that.” He scratched his head in frustration. “Argh! It’s going to be bugging me all day now!”

“Maybe Mipha will know?” Sidon suggested, “She’s always reading about random stuff, so she’s probably come across it in her studies at least once.” He looked down at Link, a puzzled expression taking over his face as he pondered the symbol.

“Where did it come from though?” Dunma asked, “It wasn’t there the last time I checked over him.”

Gaddison shrugged, “Maybe it was brought about by stress? Or something?” he suggested.

No one had any clear idea about what the symbol was, where it had come from, or why it had suddenly popped up on Links hand. They weren’t sure what to make of it, though it did seem beneficial in a way.

“Whatever it is,” Gaddison said sternly, “It managed to save Bazz, as far as we know.”

Dunma nodded in agreeance, “Who knows what would have happened to him if that goop-stuff had stayed on him.”

The two Zora looked over to their Prince who was still looking down at Link with a puzzled expression on his face. Just what was their little Hylian hiding?

Chapter Text

Bazz woke to the sun rising above the horizon, bathing the area in dim, cool morning light. His hand immediately went to his shoulder, expecting the goop to still be stuck there. It had latched onto him with a vengeance and started to make its way under his skin, into his veins. He had felt his mind start to collapse as searing pain took over. Whatever the goop was, it was trying to take over as it dug itself deeper and deeper into Bazz’s body.

He paused, his hand poised just over where he had been clawing, trying to desperately dislodge the stuff from his shoulder. Was it still there? Surely not, he wasn’t in any pain. Summoning the courage that he possessed only when fighting electric monsters, Bazz placed his hand on his shoulder…

…Nothing?

There was nothing. No pain, no lump of whatever the goop stuff was, nothing trying to claw itself into his veins. He looked down, thinking that maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, either that or he was dead.

Nothing still.

He sat up and rolled his shoulder around, testing its flexibility.

No pain, no nothing.

Strange.

Bazz, thoroughly confused as to what had happened, looked around the camp for answers. Gaddison was leaning up against a tree, spear balanced on his shoulder as he looked to be sleeping. Dunma lay beside a now dead fire, curled up in her bedroll. She had a worried look on her face and didn’t seem to be sleeping well. Sidon wasn’t in his bedroll; he was instead curled up protectively around a small figure nestled securely in his bedroll.

The Hylian.

Bazz felt a wave of anger wash over him, his face contorting into a scowl. That… thing had brought about the Blood Moon and had specifically targeted Bazz with the goop, trying to take his mind over so that he would attack his friends. It probably did so out of revenge after Bazz ran its shoulder through with his sword.

Yes, it would take no greater pleasure than to force Bazz to murder his own friends in cold blood, laughing all the while as it watched. The Hylian would then cut off Sidon’s head and bring it back to its goddess-damned Queen as proof that the Zora’s had been conquered.

Bazz could see it now, the entire Hylian civilization clamouring around the ‘hero who slayed the mighty beast,’ as the Queen personally added the head to its collection.

Bazz almost threw up at the thought of it. No, he couldn’t let that happen. He had to protect his friends. He had been brought along on this mission, along with Gaddison, specifically to protect the Prince and Dunma. This Hylian was a threat to their lives, whether that be through killing them by itself, or forcing Bazz to do it for the slimy bastard.

Slowly, Bazz reached for his sword laying on the ground next to it. He tightened his grip around it as he carefully stood up, not wanting to make a noise to alert the rest of the group. The other three had seemed to grow some kind of attachment to the Hylian; it had lulled them into a false sense of security so they would be easier to kill.

Bazz had to strike first.

Creeping ever so cautiously across the camp, Bazz’s eyes were locked on the Hylian’s face, looking peaceful as it slept. Another surge of anger caused Bazz to put his foot down too hard on the ground, making a dull sound as it impacted. After all the destruction that Hylian had caused, how could it sleep so peacefully? Or maybe this was a ruse too. Maybe it was trying to get Bazz close enough to control again. Maybe the goop stuff wasn’t really gone, but just hidden away in his veins, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take control of his mind.

Bazz found himself standing over the Prince and the Hylian. How could Sidon be so naïve that he couldn’t even see that he was protecting a monster? Bazz would have to be careful where he aimed his sword as Sidon was covering most of the disgusting Hylian, but there was a space where its neck was exposed some. If he angled it just right, he’d be able to hit true and Sidon would be none the wiser.

Carefully, Bazz positioned his sword over the Hylian’s neck, preparing himself to stab down and impale the bastard. With a heave, Bazz plunged the sword down.

Gaddison wasn’t too sure what stirred him awake, though he knew that he wasn’t supposed to be asleep. He had decided to take over watch from Sidon after the whole fiasco with Link and the symbol thing. He had thought hard, racking his brain for an answer that he knew was in there somewhere, collecting dust in a corner, though no matter how hard he thought, absolutely nothing solid came to mind. At one point, he did have it on the tip of his tongue, but it annoyed him that he could only remember it started with a T.

Looking around, a bit sheepish and hoping that Sidon wasn’t awake to see Gaddison actively shirking his watch duty, he saw that Bazz was awake.

That was a good sign. Dunma had been scared that he wouldn’t wake up seeing as she knew neither what the goop stuff did, nor what Link’s magic glowy hand did to heal it. Seeing him up and awake with a murderous look in his eye and an angry scowl on his face had Gaddison breathing in a sigh of relief. Bazz was going to be okay.

Wait a minute.

Gaddison’s sleepy mind took a second to catch up with what he was actually seeing. Bazz had crept over to where the Prince was sleeping curled around Link (Sidon saying that it was because Link was shivering so much, he must be freezing – but Gaddison knew it was because Sidon wanted to protect his newfound friend) and had his sword raised in the air. Gaddison couldn’t see where he was aiming, but he knew that it couldn’t be good.

Gaddison’s body moved before his mind could, picking up his spear and throwing it straight at Bazz. He knew that he was too far away to tackle Bazz away, so Gaddison sent up a small prayer to the Goddesses that Bazz wouldn’t come out of this incident too injured.

Thankfully, his aim was true as his spear hit and successfully knocked Bazz’s sword out of his hands just as he began plunging it down. Without thinking, Gaddison ran over and tackled Bazz to the ground.

The ensuing scuffle woke Sidon, Dunma, and Link up as Gaddison and Bazz rolled around on the ground, both trying their hardest to come out on top. The two rolled and rolled like Lizalfos locked in a battle of life or death. At one point, Gaddison felt his back make contact with the coals of the fire, the pain barely registering as he focused on trying to subdue Bazz.

Unfortunately, Bazz had always been bigger and stronger than Gaddison; even when they were children, Bazz would always come out on top of their scuffles.

This time was no different.

Gaddison found himself pinned under Bazz, Bazz’s hands wrapped around his throat and squeezing slightly to keep him there. Gaddison’s hands were wrapped around Bazz’s wrists, gripping tightly as he tried, in vain, to pry Bazz’s hands off him.

“So it’s controlling you!” Bazz spat as his grip tightened.

Gaddison gasped as the pressure on his neck increased. He could still breathe, yes, his gills located on the sides of his chest, but the pressure that Bazz was putting on his veins and arteries leading to his brain… well, that was a big problem.

Gaddison tried, with renewed vigor, to reverse their positions, or at least push Bazz off of him. His struggling was in vain, however, as Bazz responded by clamping down on Gaddison’s neck harder. Black spots danced in Gaddison’s vision, his blood not being able to make it to his brain.

“You’re protecting it!” Bazz yelled, “It’s in your mind! Dunma!” Bazz called for his friend, eyes still locked with Gaddison’s, “Kill it before it can control anyone else!” Bazz’s eyes were furious, his face etched in a scowl as he stared at Gaddison like he didn’t know who he was. No recognition, all anger.

Suddenly, his expression shifted, anger and hate turned into surprise and resentment as Gaddison saw Dunma hold a sword to Bazz’s throat.

“Let. Gaddison. Go.” She growled, her voice deep and angry.

Bazz slowly removed his hands from Gaddison’s throat and put them up in the air in surrender. Gaddison felt the blood painfully return to his head, a headache forming instantly as he curled up on his side to try and mitigate the pain.

Bazz stepped away from Gaddison, sword still held to this throat. Dunma saw hurt in his expression as he faced her, like she was betraying him.

“You’re being controlled by it too,” he said in a low, slow voice. “Dunma, listen to me. Listen to my words. It’s controlling you, you’re not yourself right now. Let me go and I can free you from it.”

Dunma was confused. Controlled? What? By ‘it?’ What was…?

Oh.

Oh no.

“Bazz,” she said, sword still against Bazz’s throat, “No one is being controlled. Link is not controlling anyone. No one is in another’s head right now. You’re the one that’s acting strange.”

It was Bazz’s turn to be confused, “Gaddison attacked me when I tried to kill it! He’s obviously under it’s control! And you’re protecting him, so that also makes you a culprit!”

“I thought you were trying to kill the Prince,” Gaddison said from his place on the floor. He was still curled up into a ball.

Bazz looked shocked, “What? No! Why would I…?” he wasn’t able to finish. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the words “kill” and “Prince” in the same sentence. Why would he ever do that? “I was protecting Sidon,” he explained.

Dunma shook her head and sighed as she lowered the sword slightly, “Do you remember what happened last night?” she asked as she stared directly into Bazz’s eyes, daring him to move to attack anyone else.

“Some of that… goop stuff landed on me. I tried clawing it off. I must have been successful because it’s gone now.” Bazz explained, tearing his gaze from Dunma to look at his shoulder to confirm that it was, indeed, free of the goop.

“Bazz, that’s not what happened,” Dunma said slowly, lowering her sword completely. “Yes, the goop stuff did land on you… but you weren’t able to get it off.” She lowered her gaze, “I don’t know if you were dying or being taken over by the… by the pig thing in the sky, but it wasn’t looking good.”

“You weren’t able to get it off,” repeated Gaddison as he stood up slowly.

“Link saved you,” Sidon finished from where he stood by the treeline, Link protectively hidden behind him. “If it weren’t for him…” he trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. Like Dunma had said, they weren’t sure if he was dying or what.

“The Hylian?” Bazz asked, turning around fully to face the two. “The Hylian save me? Why in the fuck would a fucking Hylian save me?! It’s the cause of all of this mess! It wanted to take over my body and make me watch as I killed all of you! It wanted to bring Sidon’s head back to its Queen to be herald as a hero!” Bazz yelled as he advanced threateningly towards the Hylian hiding behind Sidon.

“Bazz, stop!” Sidon commanded, placing an arm on Link’s chest to further push him behind him.

Bazz kept advancing, stopping right in front of Sidon, “You, my dear prince, are blind if you think that a Hylian could have a heart! It has no soul! It’s a bringer of destruction! You trust it?” Bazz poked a finger at Sidon’s chest, “Hylian’s have done nothing but be a blight on Hyrule ever since they came into existence! Pray tell, your majesty, pray tell if you remember Kodah!”

“Bazz, that is enough!” Sidon shouted, grabbing Bazz’s wrist and leaning in close, “Link saved you. I don’t understand how you can’t get that fact through your head, but he saved you from death. You should be thanking him and praising the ground he walks on, yet you continue to spout racist, xenophobic insults as truths.”

Bazz was taken aback, never having heard Sidon speak in such a serious and, frankly, pissed off tone. “Don’t understand?” he asked, standing his ground, “You don’t understand? And what do you mean, racist and xenophobic?! Everything I’ve said is a fact! Hylians caused the giant pig thing in the sky, Hylians killed Kodah, and that Hylian was trying to kill you!” he shouted, pointing at Link.

Sidon’s face darkened as anger made itself clear on his features. He leveled his gaze with Bazz, the tension in the air growing thick with every passing second. “We are done having this conversation. If you can’t get it through your goddamn head that Link saved you and that he is a good person, then I have nothing left to say to you.” He turned around, “We’re heading off at once. The Domain isn’t much further.” He put a hand on Link’s back and guided him forward.

Dunma and Gaddison quickly grabbed everything that was still laid out around the camp – only a couple of bed rolls – and quickly followed after Sidon. Bazz, however, stood motionless, feeling a mixture of emotion that he couldn’t quite process. Anger, confusion, and hate swirled in his chest and refused to settle, only growing stronger and stronger by the second.

Taking a few deep breaths – and trying desperately hard to ignore the urge to throw something – Bazz walked over and picked up his discarded sword. He looked at the retreating forms of his friends and the Hylian. How were they able to be so happy around something as dangerous as a Hylian? They saw what it had tried to do to him, hadn’t they?

He shook his head and started walking after them. At this rate, Sidon was going to get himself killed; by who, however, was yet to be determined.

To say that the troops were rattled would be akin to saying that Lynels were a tad aggressive: an understatement.

Mipha had tried to soothe them best she could, but only had mild success with a few. Being the Captain, she was expected to have answers to almost everything: where’s the best strategic attack point? What’s the best weapon to stab a Lizalfos with? How many Bokoblins are usually in a camp? Those? All those she had answers for, but she didn’t have an answer as to what happened last night.

The sky went red and then screamed. A scout went up to Shatterback Point to try and figure out what was going on and came back shell-shocked.

“A giant, fiery boar in the sky above Hyrule Field.” He explained after Mipha had managed to settle him.

The fire started only seconds afterwards. A strange material, akin to a Chu-Chu in consistency, fell from the sky and stuck to anything it managed to touch. The fire started to spread from that, but thankfully didn’t seem to go far or do much to the marble and stone of the Domain. The trees, grasses, and bushes outside the Domain, however, did not fair well. Once everyone had emerged from where they sheltered indoors, there were too many patch fires to count. Double-thankfully, the strange red and black fire did not seem to spread as well as normal fire. This still left many burnt patches though.

Muzu then started spouting that, “This is all the fault of the Hylians, they want to kill us all! This is an attack on us, to weaken us so that they can launch an attack and take us over! Imprison us! Enslave us!” and the such-and-such.

So, yeah. The troops were rattled.

Mipha tried to calm their nerves by rebutting Muzu’s claims, reminding her soldiers that, “Muzu is an old, racist goot and you can’t take everything he says seriously,” but to little effect. She loved Muzu, she really did, but when things like this happened… some days she wanted to clobber him upside the head.

Thankfully, Sidon returned by the evening of the next day.

Mipha had been running through some training drills with the soldiers, trying to burn off some of their nervous energy and – if they believed Muzu’s words – show them that they were more than prepared to handle an attack. She was in the middle of giving pointers on spears to one of the newer troops when Ledo ran up to her and gave her the news. She immediately dropped what she was doing, apologized to the soldier, and ran with Ledo back to the Domain proper.

She had been worried when Sidon had left for Rito Village. Yes, she knew that it had been an important opportunity to strengthen the bonds between the two, but still. Her little brother was travelling to the other side of Hyrule! She felt she had the right to be worried.

Running across the bridge, she could easily spot her brother in the middle of the plaza, staring at the statue of the Guardian of the Domain: Vah Ruta. She slowed down as she got closer, hearing Sidon talking to someone – though she couldn’t see anyone else – about the Guardian.

“…. has ever actually seen the Guardian, though there have been legends that Vah Ruta can be seen in the Reservoir on a night with a particularly bright moon.” Sidon explained to no one.

“And sometimes,” Mipha continued as she walked closer, “You can even hear Vah Ruta cry, if the night is quiet enough, and the water is still enough.” Sidon turned towards her, surprise evident on his face, “It’s seen as a blessing, if you’re able to hear her cry, promising safety and security.”

“Mipha!” Sidon smiled and scooped her up in a big hug, spinning her around as he did so. “I’ve missed you!”

Mipha could only laugh as her brother continued to spin her. She used to do this exact thing when Sidon was younger and smaller than her, but as soon as he hit his growth spurt, the tables turned.

After Sidon was sure that Mipha was good and dizzy, he set her down and steadied her so that she didn’t fall. “I’ve missed you too, Sidon. How was your trip?” she asked, trying to make the world stop spinning.

“The bonds have been strengthened, but that’s not the point!” Sidon said quickly, “I would like to introduce you to someone!” he sounded excited.

“Did you bring someone back from Rito Village?” she asked, finally getting the world to stop moving and her feet steady under herself. She looked around for a Rito but couldn’t find one. It wasn’t too far of a stretch for Dunma to have picked up an apprentice while over there, right? So, where were they?

Sidon shook his head, “I’d like you to meet Link,” he said gesturing to his side.

Mipha looked but saw nothing. She glanced down and was surprised to see, “A Hylian?”

“Shhhh!” Sidon hissed, “Not so loud! It’s enough that we have Bazz yelling racist remarks, don’t need half of the Domain to as well.” He whisper-yelled.

Mipha covered her mouth, “Sorry,” she whispered.

Sidon nodded, “This is Link,” he started over, gesturing to his new friend, “He needed some help on Hebra mountain, and then I got attached. He’s very friendly and even helped Bazz!”

“Sidon,” Mipha looked between her brother and Link, “You’re describing him like he’s one of the dogs at a stable.”

“No no nonono,” Sidon waved his hands in front of him. Backtracking, he said, “It’s just that… well… Link, can’t really talk, so I don’t know much about him minus a few charades we’ve done.”

Mipha, puzzled, directed her attention to Link, “You can’t speak?”

A headshake.

“Can you sign?”

A head nod followed by signs she couldn’t recognize.

“Can you write down what you want to say?” she asked.

“We tried that,” Sidon interjected, “His writing is too different for us to read.”

“But you can understand everything we say, right?” Mipha asked, turning her attention back to Link.

He nodded and then moved his hand, palm-down, left and right a few times.

Mipha nodded, “Okay, mostly is better than not at all.” She stood up straight and looked her brother in the eye, “How have you been communicating? Wait, how’d you find out his name?” she asked.

“Charades.” Sidon answered shortly. “Link is quite good at them.”

Mipha tilted her head to the side, “Well, we need to get an interpreter ASAP. Charades isn’t the best way to communicate.”

Link and Sidon looked at each other, and then back at Mipha, “Where are we going to find an interpreter?” Sidon asked, Link’s face sharing the question.

Mipha was at a loss of words for a moment. Firstly, her brother and his new friend seemed to have some kind of telepathic link of some kind, that or they just became really good friends really quickly. Secondly, she had no idea where to get an interpreter for Hylian Sign. Thirdly… there was no third point.

“Maybe,” she ventured after a couple of seconds, “maybe, Dad would know? Or Muzu? I’d recommend Dad, though,” Muzu’s rant still fresh in her brain.

Sidon nodded. “That would be a good idea.” He didn’t want to deal with Muzu either.

Link was terrified.

He thought that Sidon was just tall for his species, but then he met Dunma and Gaddison and Bazz and decided that the Zora were just a tall race. When he saw everyone in Zora’s Domain, that fact solidified, becoming even stronger when he was introduced to Mipha and she didn’t even see him until Sidon pointed him out.

Seeing King Dorephan had him wondering if the Zora were a race of giants, though. He was huge, had a booming voice, and a presence to match it. He reminded Link of a Hinox, if a Hinox had scales and was friendly. And could talk. And royalty. Maybe he just reminded Link of a Hinox because of his size.

Introductions were quick, the King seeming to be a straight-forward kind of Zora. The fact that he didn’t start yelling at Link the way Bazz did had Link feeling somewhat safe – he couldn’t imagine getting yelled at in that voice.

“Link,” the King said, his focus all on him, “I don’t mean to pry, but do you know what happened in the sky last night?”

It took ten minutes of Link signing and charading for the name ‘Dungeon Master’ to finally be understood by at least one of the parties present. Everyone was surprised, including Link, when Mipha yelled out the name.

“Dungeon Master?” the King asked, “That is a strange name indeed. Is this Dungeon Master dangerous?”

Link nodded solemnly. He couldn’t tell them about the Queen’s bloodthirsty executions and sacrifices every Blood Moon. He couldn’t tell them about all the Hylians locked in the Dungeon, left there to either rot forever or be sacrificed without fair trial. He couldn’t tell them about anything that the Queen did to her people, couldn’t tell them about the horrors within the castle.

A nod didn’t seem like enough.

“Very dangerous, I’m assuming?” the King asked.

Link paused. He wasn’t actually sure what it was the Dungeon Master and the Queen were going to do. Yes, he and everyone in Castle Town had heard the speeches about taking over all of Hyrule and ruling every race in the land, but he wasn’t sure how they’d be able to accomplish that. What even were the Dungeon Master’s powers, par stealing the lives of so many innocent people?

He nodded.

Silence filled the high-arched auditorium as everyone processed what Link just revealed. There was a very dangerous threat, and the only one that had any information on it couldn’t tell them anything about it.

Fuck.

Mipha cleared her throat to try and dissipate some tension. Quickly changing the subject, she said “We were thinking that we should find an interpreter for Link, so that he can actually tell us what he’s thinking,”

“Oh!” Sidon’s eyes lit up, “I just remembered! Link, show them your hand,”

Oh, right. That. Link looked down at the back of his left hand, having completely forgotten about the strange triangle mark after it stopped hurting. He showed it to Mipha first, who asked permission to hold it closer to get a better look.

She gasped,

“The Triforce?!”

“Triforce?” Sidon asked at the same time that King Dorephan exclaimed, “Triforce!”

“He has the mark of the Triforce!” Mipha angled Link’s hand so the King could see, “I’m not sure which one, but I’ve read books about myths and legends that mentioned the Triforce. Three people sharing three pieces being granted strange powers.”

“Courage, Power, and Wisdom,” the King filled in, “and I’m fairly certain that the bottom left is the Triforce of Wisdom.”

“Gah! I wish I paid more attention to those ones! I can’t remember what each one does,” Mipha hit her forehead with her palm in an attempt to jumpstart her brain.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah. Triforce? Myths? Wisdom?” Sidon sounded confused. Link was confused too. “Just what is going on here?”

“My boy,” the King sighed, “I’m not certain. The knowledge of the Triforce is sparse as everyone thought it to be a Legend. I for one thought it only to be a part of a creation myth.” He admitted.

“So, where do we find more information? This ‘Triforce’ thing seems to be pretty important,” Sidon pinched the bridge of his nose.

Silence once again blanketed the auditorium. Everyone was thinking about where to find answers, but all Link could do was stare at his hand. The Triforce of Wisdom? What did that even mean? He was certain that his non-existent understanding hadn’t come from the strange language barrier between him and everyone else. No, he had heard the term ‘Triforce’ before, but where? And why did the symbol look so familiar as well?

“Maybe Impa of Kakariko?” Sidon suggested, “I’ve visited her a couple of times and she seems quite knowledgeable when it comes to myths, legends, and just anything really.”

Mipha and the King nodded, “That would probably be best. The Sheikah are quite adept at preserving information, even that of legends.” The King said.

“She also might know something about Hylian Sign,” Mipha added. “She may know where to find an interpreter for Link.”

Link nodded. It would be nice to be able to speak so that he could warn everyone about what was probably happening at Castle Town. Honestly, it would be nice to just be understood in general. The Queen had certainly done a good job in making sure that the one citizen she kept on the longest leash couldn’t tell anyone anything about her plans.

“If everyone is in agreeance,” Sidon said, “Link and I will leave in the morning for Kakariko.”

Hopefully, their journey there would be less exciting than the one to the Domain.

Chapter Text

“Link? What are you doing?”

Link looked up from where he had been smashing some leaves into a paste. In front of him was a small fire, a small bowl full of Hylia-knows what nestled within the coals. He smiled and motioned Sidon to come closer to see what he was doing.

The two had set off from Zora’s Domain that morning, coming to a stop to rest for the night before they made their way through the Lanayru Wetlands. Link had started a fire almost right away, pulling out some seemingly random things out of his bag that he had been collecting all day. Sidon had left him to his business, not sure whether to ask what he was doing, or assume it was some Hylian-specific eating ritual.

He had left to go and gather some more wood that would make a more substantial fire than a couple of sticks and a bit of dried moss. Which led him to where he was now, staring at Link as he added the mashed up leaves into the boiling substance on the fire.

Sidon was confused. “What is it?” he asked. Was it food? Certainly not. Though, maybe it was some kind of Hylian soup? Link had been eating only what the Zora had provided him, so maybe he was missing some of his own cuisine?

Oh Goddesses. Would he try and make Sidon eat it?

Link smiled again and made a series of signs with one hand, folding his fingers one on top of the other in a sequence that Sidon could only assume was a spelling of something or a sentence of some kind. He then made one sign coming off of his forehead with his thumb tucked in and other fingers splayed.

It meant nothing to Sidon and both of them knew it. “Okay, so this…” Sidon attempted to recreate the forehead finger-splayed one, deeming it the easier one, “Is it food?”

Link shook his head, made his hand like he was holding a cup, and mimed drinking.

“Not food, but you do drink it?” Sidon interpreted.

Link nodded, snapping his fingers into a point. He grabbed a nearby stick and stirred the not-food drink.

“What’s it for then?” Sidon asked. He didn’t mean to be nosy, but he was genuinely interested into what his little friend was doing. He hadn’t seen anything like it before so any of his guesses would almost certainly be incorrect.

Link pointed out into the Wetlands, turning his face into a scowl, sticking out his tongue and making his hands resemble a horn on his head.

“Lizalfos.”

Another snapped point and nod.

“Does it harm them?”

Link shook his head and took the small bowl off of the fire. It had a yellow colour to it and, despite having so many solids go into it, swirled as a thin liquid. He set it aside, presumably to cool, and turned his attention back on Sidon. A finger pointed between them and then his two arms crossed in an X over his chest, tapping them together twice.

“Us…?” Sidon tried. He needed to learn Hylian sign and fast if he wanted to keep having conversations with Link. Some things you just couldn’t convey with charades like… whatever Link had been trying to tell him the strange not-food drink was called.

Link’s face scrunched up in mild frustration (Sidon didn’t blame him in the slightest). He stayed still for a few seconds, trying to think of a way to convey his message in a clearer way. His face lit up with an idea, his attention fully back on Sidon.

He did the same two signs again, only slower, and also moving his mouth to form… words! Mouthing words!

“Us,” Link mouthed slowly and deliberately as he motioned between Sidon and himself. “Pro-tect.” He crossed his arms in an X, tapping them together with each syllable. His face lit up with happiness as Sidon understood.

“It’ll protect us!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in victory. “Link! You’re a genius! I could hug you! Can I hug you?”

Link nodded, opening his arms for the Zora Prince who rushed forward, picking Link up and swinging him around a couple of times. Sidon knew it was probably a bit excessive, but he felt that it was needed. They were one step closer to communicating fully with one another! It was so exciting!

Link tapped Sidon’s arm a couple of times, asking to be let down. Sidon obliged after one more swing, setting Link safely on the ground and holding onto his uninjured shoulder when he pitched sideways, eyes swirling rapidly.

Sidon grimaced, “Sorry, Link. Didn’t mean to swing you that hard.” Hylians were fragile, he had to keep reminding himself, it took a lot less to make them dizzy or sick or injured than it did a Zora.

Link waved him off, his eyes steadying and his balance centering. Sidon kept his hand there until he was sure that Link was 100% okay, not wanting him to accidently crack his skull open on the nearby stump. Link just smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

Sidon sat back and looked at his friend as Link checked the temperature of the bottom of the stone bowl. Nodding to himself, he reached into his bag and rummaged a little.

“I never thought to mouth words,” Sidon sat back, eyes still on Link as he produced two small, corked, glass vials from his bag. They had little tags around their necks and, after checking them and nodding, Link opened them and slowly poured the not-food drink into both.

“Really. I meant it when I said you were a genius,” Sidon continued, “I mean, it’ll only be useful in calm situations, but that’ll hopefully be most of the time, yeah?”

Link nodded as he capped the vials, putting one in the small pouch on his waist, and giving the other one to Sidon. He made the ‘protect’ sign again when Sidon took it, nodding and placing it in his own travel pouch. He still wasn’t sure how it would protect them, but he wasn’t about to question Link.

Link, seemingly satisfied, wiped out the stone bowl with a leaf and placed it back on the coals. He added some water from his canteen and rummaged in his bag some more.

Sidon decided to leave him to his devices, thinking that he was probably making some more not-food drink of some kind. Sidon got to work himself, piling the larger wood pieces he collected together (separate from Link’s, as per his instructions) to make the fire to cook their food. They had left Zora’s Domain with many dried provisions, as well as some semi-dried fish wrapped in leaves, ready to be cooked over a fire. Seeing as the Lanayru Wetlands would be the most difficult part of their journey, it would do to have a more substantial meal than fully dried fish or fruit-leather.

Sidon skewered them onto sticks, leaving them to roast over the fire, before turning his attention back to Link who was grinding up something red in his wooden bowl. He had a small pile of things by his side, adding one in at a time to grind properly. They turned to dust almost immediately, covering the bowl in a rusty-red coating.

“Link, are those dried lizard tails?” Sidon asked in morbid fascination. Surely, this was another not-food drink and not an actual-food soup.

Link nodded, making the same sign as before, confirming that it was a not-food drink.

“Is that one also for protection?”

Link shook his head, putting his bowl safely on the ground before signing a new sign. He put his hands on his shoulders, dragging them forwards and turning them into fists at the end. “E-th.” He mouthed.

“Eth?” Sidon asked. Goddesses-damnit! Mouthing words was failing them already!

Link shook his head, doing the sign again, but exhaling heavily on the first syllable. “He-l-th.” He mouthed, overexaggerating the L.

“Helth. Hea-lth. Health!” Sidon exclaimed, gaining him a smile and a head nod from Link. He then pointed to his injured shoulder. “Health for your shoulder.” Sidon concluded.

Another nod and Link returned to his bowl, adding in a third lizard tail, wrapping the rest up and putting them back in his bag. He pulled out a few more things and set to work again, grinding the different ingredients together.

Mipha had managed to heal Link’s shoulder mostly back to where it had been before it had been stabbed at least twice. The stiches that Dunma had put in had kept most of the wound together, but Bazz’s penchant for stabbing the Hylian any chance he got had done the shoulder absolutely no favours. With all the trauma it had sustained, Mipha had been surprised that Link could still move the darn thing! She was able to heal most his other wounds into scars, save for the one from when he was impaled, but his shoulder was being stubborn.

“Try not to move it all too much. I’ve done all I can, you’re just going to have to let it heal on its own now,” Mipha had told them. Link was trying to follow her advice as well as he could, Sidon helping by reminding him every now and then.

Sidon just watched Link (occasionally checking the fish) as he grinded up a few more things before dumping them into the boiling water. After a bit of stirring, the water turned a rusty red colour and thickened considerably. Link brought out a couple more leaves, grinding them lightly before adding them to the mixture. Stirring a few times made the concoction become a paste.

He took the paste off the fire (it didn’t smell the greatest – a mixture of crushed red berry and dried meat) and reached into his bag once again. He brought out a couple short strips of bandage, laid them in his lap, and began to weave them together. Sidon just watched as Link’s nimble fingers wound the fabric around itself, creating a sturdy, lattice-like design.

It was interesting watching Link work like this. It was nothing like what the healers back at the Domain would do. He was certain he had never seen any of them make a health-paste like this before. They did have salves, yes, but they were smooth, almost cream-like, and would be applied directly to the skin; not red and chunky and being smeared over a lattice of bandages.

Sidon tried not to stare as Link pulled his tunic over his head to remove his (slightly blood stained) bandages. He knew it was rude to stare, and also that staring at someone while they changed was embarrassing on their end, but Sidon couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that Link’s torso was completely free of gills! He knew that Hylians weren’t a water-based species (just based on where they lived), but still! It was truly fascinating!

Link applied the paste-smeared bandage-lattice directly onto his shoulder wound, wincing in pain as the still-hot mixture touched his skin. He kept it there with one hand, the other reaching for the roll of bandages in his bag.

“Do you need help?” Sidon asked when Link stilled for a moment, pondering how he was going to rewrap his shoulder. He had done it many times before, but a little help was going to make it so much easier.

With Link’s shoulder wrapped, the health-paste doing its job, and his tunic back on, Sidon handed him a fish. The two ate in comfortable silence, enjoying their meal and the stars above them. Fireflies were beginning to make themselves known as the sun fully set and night crept in. It was peaceful, Sidon’s heart warming as he realized that he had made a new friend. A Hylian friend at that! It was like a dream come true!

Sidon smiled into his fish, absolute glee filling his chest. It had been a rocky start, but now, as the birdsong quieted and grasshopper’s filled their place, Sidon couldn’t help but be happy. He could only hope that Link felt the same, though, looking over and seeing the small Hylian happily eating his fish as he stared at the stars, Sidon knew that he did.

Link was grateful that he had made those electric-resistant potions for him and Sidon. He knew from personal experience that Electric Lizalfos made their home in certain parts of the Lanayru Wetlands, though he hadn’t remembered which ones. For once, his over-cautionary ways actually helped instead of hindered him.

They had accidently stumbled directly into the path of a few Electric Lizalfos that had camouflaged themselves for the night. Sidon had, thankfully, seen Link’s frantic signs telling him to “Drink the potion!” and drank it quickly.

Not a moment too soon as he then got hit directly with a ball of lightning. His muscles still froze up, his breath stolen from his lungs, but, as Sidon had informed him after the fight, Zora were particularly vulnerable to electricity, usually having a lot more happen to them than a few minutes of muscle weakness.

Link had prepped more that night when they stopped and set up camp.

Thankfully, they made it to Kakariko three days later, mostly unscathed and without any big incident like that happening again (though, Link did get picked up and thrown by a Moblin, crashing into Sidon and knocking the both of them over, but Link didn’t count that as a big incident).

They were greeted by a guard standing under a tree by a campfire. He pointed his spear at the two and demanded to know who they were. His expression softed when he found out that he was in the presence of Zora royalty, his cheeks lighting up when he realised that he had uncouthly pointed his weapon at Zora royalty, and he let the two into the village proper.

The houses and shops were unlike anything that Link had ever seen before. Stilted foundations, white wooden walls with brown accents, and sloped roofs that ended in curls that extended past the walls. It was early morning though, so not many people were out and about. A couple of lights illuminated some windows, and a man was sitting in a pen and petting some cuccos, but that was the extent of people that they saw.

Two guards were stationed on either side of a stairway up to a large house in the same style as the rest of the village, only looking grander. Frog statues lay off to one side, wooden bowls with an apple in each stood in front of them. Just across the way was a small pond with a statue in the middle that Link vaguely recognized but couldn’t put his finger on where he had seen it before.

“Halt!” one of the guards yelled as Link and Sidon approached the large house. Two spears crossed over the entrance to the stairs, effectively blocking them. “State your name and business.”

“Sidon, prince of the Zora,” Sidon bowed, remembering Mipha telling him something about it when she read up on Sheikah culture. “This is Link,” he motioned to his friend who mirrored his gesture. “We’re here seeking an audience with Impa.”

“A Hylian?” the other guard questioned, “What would a Hylian want with Impa?”

“More importantly,” the first guard said in a louder tone, “why do you seek an audience with Impa?”

Link stepped closer to the two guards, holding his hands in the air to show he was unarmed before tugging his left glove off. There, clear as day, was that weird triangle symbol on the back of his hands.

The two guards took a look at Link’s outstretched hand before looking at each other in confusion. “That’s not…?” the one guard questioned.

“It couldn’t be.” the other guard shook his head, “But if it isn’t, then what else could it be?”

The two bickered back and forth for a few moments, their voices turning into aggressive whispers. They turned to Link and Sidon, still just standing there, and uncrossed their weapons. “We will permit you audience with Impa. However, we do ask you leave your weapons with us.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you, it’s just precautionary. You can retrieve them when you leave.”

Sidon and Link looked at each other, silent understanding passing between them. Sidon shrugged and Link nodded, both taking their swords off their persons and handing them to the guards. They stood to the side and Link and Sidon ascended the stairs up to Impa’s house.

Sidon knocked quietly on the door. Hopefully Impa would be awake at this time of morning.

“Yes? Who is it? Come in, come in!” an old voice called from within. Sidon carefully pushed the door open, letting himself and his friend inside.

Impa’s eyes were assessing and analytical – she looked like she knew far more about them in a single glance than they could tell her in an hour. She was short in stature, sitting atop a considerably sized stack of pillows, a wide-brimmed hat perched on her head. She broke into a toothy grin when she saw the two, beckoning them in further.

“Sit, sit.” She waved them towards the two pillows laying on the ground in front of her, “Let me have a look at’cha.” She leaned forward, eyes squinting as she took in the two people in front of her. She nodded, seemingly satisfied, and sat back again. “Names?”

“Sidon, prince of the Zora,” Sidon introduced again, bowing as he did so. “Link,” he gestured to Link who, once again, mirrored his action.

“Impa, leader of the Sheikah.” She bowed from atop her pillows. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being in such company. I don’t think I’ve interacted with a Hylian in years!”

Link, who hadn’t put his glove back on, held up hand up for Impa to see. She told him to come closer, that her eyesight wasn’t what it used to be, and Link obliged. Impa took his hand in her own, rubbing at the mark with her thumb as if trying to dislodge it. When it didn’t work, she hummed and nodded to herself, “The Triforce.”

“Triforce?” Sidon asked as Link sat back down.

Impa nodded again, “Yes. The Triforce. An old legend passed down through our tribe for generations, though the last time it was seen had been millennia ago. I myself thought it just a myth but seeing it here with my own eyes…” she trailed off.

Sidon gulped, “Is it a bad thing?” he really hoped that Link wasn’t in danger because of it.

“Oh, no no! It’s not bad. In fact,” she leaned forward as if divulging a secret, “it’s said to be a blessing from the Goddesses.”

“A blessing?” Sidon looked at Link in shock, Link mirroring his expression exactly as he stared at the back of his hand. A blessing would make sense, seeing as it cleared away the weird goop that had attached itself to Bazz all those night ago.

“Yes! A blessing. And, if memory serves correctly, that one, specifically, is the Triforce of Wisdom, a blessing from Nayru herself.” Impa sat back, folding her hands and beginning the tale of the three Golden Goddesses: Din, Nayru, and Farore. She told of how they had bestowed the Triforce unto the people of Hyrule before they departed from it. She told of the ancient hero who possessed the Triforce of Courage and managed to save Hyrule with the help of its princess in possession of the Triforce of Wisdom. She told of their plight with the owner of the Triforce of Power and how they managed to seal him away with the sealing powers of the Triforce of Wisdom, how it bathed the Malice in a golden wash of light, making it disappear.

“Link did something like that,” Sidon interjected. “After that giant pig-thing appeared in the sky and all that weird goop-stuff crashed to the ground, he saved one of my friends with a ‘golden wash of light.’”

Impa nodded, “That ‘goop-stuff’ is similar to what the legends refer to as Malice. And it’s another nail in the coffin, as far as I’m concerned, that Link, indeed, possesses a part of the Triforce of Legend.”

Link was shocked – flabbergasted even. He possessed a part of a legend? Him? Where did he even find it? He couldn’t remember ever picking something like it up, let alone something fusing into his skin. Why him, of all people? What was he supposed to even do with it? Probably something similar to what he did to Bazz. But wasn’t this only a part of the Triforce? Did he have to find the others? Would he also come into possession of them? What would he do then?

Oh, he had so many questions and no way to ask them. It was frustrating, not being able to communicate with the others the way he did back in Castletown. Yes, he vastly preferred Sidon’s company to anyone in that town, but he wasn’t able to say anything easily. Everything had to go through a game of charades and confusion first.

“Link?” Impa asked, tilting her head to one side.

Link’s head shot up from where he was staring at his hand. When had he stopped listening? What had they been saying? Great, more questions that he couldn’t answer.

“You haven’t said anything this whole time. I’m sure you have questions.” Impa ventured.

Link gave an awkward smile, glancing sideways at Sidon to explain. He placed a comforting hand on Link’s shoulder, a sad smile creeping onto his face. “He can’t talk, Impa,” Sidon sighed, keeping his hand on his friend’s shoulder and turning to face Impa. “He doesn’t have a tongue.”

Impa reeled back in shock, a look of horror briefly flashing across her face. “How…?”

“Well, you see,” Link signed knowing full well that no one could understand him, finding himself not caring in that moment, “The Queen cut off my tongue so that I could go out into the vast world of Hyrule to collect ingredients for potions. She did this for the express purpose of making sure that I couldn’t tell anyone about what was going on in Castletown. She also forbade me from going near any settlements of any kind while also providing very little in terms of equipment. She’s not all there and wants unlimited power but, oh, you can’t understand me so I guess her secrets are still safe!” Was he being bitter? Probably. Did he care at all? Not in the slightest.

Impa, to her credit, didn’t look all that surprised. She hummed contemplatively and folded her hands together, “Hylian sign. I’m sorry, I can’t say that I’m particularly well-versed in it.”

Sidon, after getting over his shock at how fast Link could sign, turned to Impa, “That’s the other reason why we’re here. Do you know anyone who could translate or teach me Hylian sign?” he asked, tone hopeful. Link nodded in agreeance.

Impa pinched her chin in thought. After a few seconds, she hummed and nodded. “I do believe that there is someone who can help you. I do have to warn you, she is a bit eccentric.”

Sheik glared at the slate, the lines of code he was attempting to decipher blurring together into one illegible mess. He rubbed at his eyes, the bright blue code lines appearing on his eyelids. He sometimes wondered if Purah had gone too realistic when it came to certain aspects of himself. Yes, he himself had wanted to experience life as a normal Sheikah would, but Goddesses did he regret it sometimes!

Time like now, when his eyes started to hurt after staring at the code for too long. Or how he jumped when Purah slammed the door open with a loud cry of, “Sheiky!”

“Yes, Purah?” Sheik grumbled, returning his attention back to the slate.

“No need to be so grumpy,” she pouted, hopping up on the bench beside Sheik, “we have very happy news, snappity snap!”

Sheik rolled his eyes, “What, did Symin finally manage to grow domestic Sunshrooms?” he asked, his tone sarcastic and uninterested.

Purah gave him a light slap on his arm, soft flesh hitting solid metal. “No, no. Now you’re just being rude!” she scolded.

Sheik sighed, turning his attention away from the slate to look Purah in the eye. “Sorry, Purah. What’s the ‘happy news’?” he asked.

Purah lit up, clapping her hands together in an excited manner. “Your expertise is needed in Kakariko!”

Sheik was confused, “My expertise?” he asked incredulously, “My expertise in what?”

“You’ve studied Hylian sign, yes?” Purah asked, knowing full well that Sheik was, in fact, fluent in it. She had programmed him after all.

“What about it?”

“They need you to translate! Also to teach.” Purah explained.

Sheik’s face scrunched in confusion (another aspect that he sometimes regretted), “Have they captured a Hylian or something?”

“Snap snap! You’re getting close!”

Sheik leaned back, crossing his arms as he thought. “Do they have a guest?” he ventured, not able to think of any other reason a Hylian would be in Kakariko.

“Ding ding! You got it correct!” Purah threw her hands up in celebration, “So you need to go over there and translate for them!”

Goddesses, Purah could be so condescending at times. Sheik sighed, hanging his head, “You want me to be a translator.” He muttered.

“Yes yes. Now, go go! They’re expecting you by tomorrow!” the small scientist hopped off the bench, scurrying her way towards the back of the lab. “You’ll be bringing a bag with some self-repair components and tools. Don’t want you losing an arm accidently!”

“You’re not coming with?” Sheik asked, standing up and making his way over to where Purah was shoving things in a bag at lightning speed.

She stopped and looked up at Sheik, “Aww. Is someone going to miss me?” she cooed.

Hardly, Sheik thought. “I just thought that you’d want to see your sister, is all.”

Purah shook her head, “I can communicate with her fine through couriers. Now,” she ungracefully shoved the bag at Sheik, too short to plop it into his arms, “Go go! You’re already behind schedule!”

“Got it, got it.” Sheik mumbled, picking up the bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Bring your slate as well! I want all the information you can get on the Hylian! Oh! See if you can get some information on the Malice spreading as well. I want detailed reports, snap!” Purah rambled, her words picking up speed and ramming into each other as she got more and more excited.

“Okay, okay. I’m going.” Sheik defended as Purah pushed on the back of his legs, forcing him towards the door. He barely managed to grab his slate before reaching the door (thankfully, it was not the one currently having a bluescreen of code).

Unceremoniously, he was pushed out of the lab, the door shutting definitively behind him, effectively muffling Purah’s excited ramblings. He had made the trip between the Hateno lab and Kakariko before, that wasn’t what was bothering him. No, what was bothering him was the fact that there was a Hylian in Kakariko. He knew about Hylians, he had been programmed with all relevant information on them, but he also knew that they were rarely seen outside of Hyrule field. If they were seen anywhere else, it usually wasn’t for peaceful reasons.

So then why…?

He shook his head. He couldn’t let himself dwell on questions like that. He could answer them all in due time, he just had to get to Kakariko first. The Hylian was considered a guest, after all, so they probably weren’t going to try anything nefarious, right?

Right?

Sheik could only hope so.

Chapter Text

Castletown was a mess from most people’s perspectives. Ask Tilly who ran the bakery by the square and he would say that, in his fifty years of life, he had never seen it this bad before. Ask Marie down the street and she would compare it to the mass fire that burned down half the town ten or so years back. Ask Opal and she would say that the giant pig in the sky scared her and her mom was acting strangely but other than that, everything was normal.

As it seemed, the closer that people were to the guillotine on that fateful day, the stranger they seemed to be acting. Those in attendance of the ceremony could be seen zoning out for minutes or hours at a time, experiencing uncharacteristic fits of anger and rage, or complaining about some strange bruising that wasn’t going away. There were outliers, of course. Ritchy, who had been working in the fields during the ceremony, had been hit by a strange ball of flaming goo when the Dungeon Master had appeared and could be witnessed to having those same symptoms as those in attendance.

Yes, no matter how it was looked at, the summoning of the Dungeon Master had affected everyone in Castletown to some degree – some more strongly than others. Most saw it as a negative: all their crops had been torn from the ground, the topsoil blown away, their houses collapsed, their friends and neighbors either killed or not acting like themselves. Some, as in the case of the Queen, saw everything that happened as a positive, a step in the right direction.

The Queen smiled to herself as she watched the rebuilding efforts of the town from one of the many balconies of the castle. Workers carried logs and lumber around the square, stonemasons worked to rebuild the stone stage in the center of the square, guards barked orders, threatening people when they weren’t moving fast enough or getting in their way.

Exactly the way she liked it.

“Is it all you expected?” came the voice of the Dungeon Master from behind her.

Zelda shrugged, turning, and walking back into the throne room as she refused to make eye contact. “You could say that I suppose.” She looked out over the throne room, servants and guards bustling around like ants in a colony that was just kicked.

The Dungeon Master laughed, “You suppose? You were expecting more?”

She turned and looked at him, trying to suppress the urge to look away once more. The Dungeon Master was a sight that both commanded eyes to its form and threatened those same eyes should they dare land on it. It was taller than Zelda was by a good meter or so, towering over her and everyone else in Castletown in a way that even the tallest Hylian couldn’t. Its body was a swirling mass of black and red, though she couldn’t tell if it was that goo-like substance, the fire, a mixture of both, or some kind of trick of the light. Its hair only worked to further the illusion, should it turn out to be one, as it swirled high and bright like an actual fire – bright orange and everything. Its face was hard to discern from the rest of the Dungeon Master. Yes, it was shaped like a very tall, very muscular Hylian, but Zelda couldn’t make out any fine features of its face; the only thing standing out in the area being the blood red eyes that seemed to always be trained on her no matter where she went.

Just being in the presence of the Dungeon Master made her want to run. After initially summoning it, the high of the power rush eventually went away, leaving her in the constant presence of something that was ancient, dangerous, and that she didn’t quite understand.

She took a deep breath in, squared her shoulders, and met the Dungeon Master’s blood red gaze with a steel one of her own. She was a Queen and a scholar. It was her job to understand this beast and make sure that it knew who was in charge. “Yes, actually,” her voice came out strong and commanding, “I distinctly remember you saying that I should have received the Mark of Power by now.”

The Dungeon Master, looking ever-so casual, crossed its arms and leaned against the pillar, tilting its head to one side as it looked on at Zelda, reminding her of the look her father would give her when she threw a tantrum. “It still hasn’t appeared?” it shrugged, “Guess you’re not worthy.”

Zelda’s blood boiled at those words. Not worthy? Not worthy? She stalked forward, her presence and confidence growing with each step. She stopped just short of the Dungeon Master and pointed a finger in its face. “Do you have any idea how much work it took to summon you? How much blood was spilled, how many sacrifices there were? Do you have any inkling as to how difficult it was to, not only find where you were locked away, but to bring you here as well?

“Any idea how much I sacrificed? How many sleepless nights it took to find out just how to summon you and this is what I get?” she stands on her tiptoes in an attempt to get closer to its face, her words sharp and her expression seething. “I do all this work to get you here and you have the gall to tell me that I’m not worthy of your power because I have yet to receive the Mark?! You have the audacity to tell me that, after everything I did to summon you, you’ll just wander off to find someone who does have the Mark and give them your power!?” She’s surprised she isn’t yelling.

It’s a conversation that they’ve had a couple of times over the past couple of days. The Dungeon Master saying that it’ll give Zelda more than just a taste of its power should she receive the Mark on the back of her hand. Should she not receive it, however, the Dungeon Master would simply abandon her and go off to find someone who does possess the Mark and give them all of its power instead. It’s been quite the point of contention between the two.

“My, my. Someone’s feisty today.” It hadn’t even flinched. “Should you keep up this attitude, maybe I won’t wait to see if the Mark will develop. I’ll just go right now and find them. It’ll save me valuable time.”

Zelda’s face scrunched up in fury and she lowered herself and backed away a few steps. She may be the Queen, but in this situation, no matter how much control she had over the Dungeon Master, until she received its full power, it would always have one up on her.

“That’s better.” The vague shapes on its face curled up in a smirk.

“How would you even find them anyway?” Zelda crossed her arms and turned away with a huff, desperate to change the topic away from how little power she actually held. “Can you track them or something?”

The Dungeon Master paused for a few seconds, tilting its head side to side and it considered the question. “In a sense, I guess you could call it tracking.”

“So, you know where the Mark of Power is?” Zelda tried to stop her voice from sounding so tiny in that moment. Should someone else already possess the Mark of Power, it would be difficult to convince the Dungeon Master to give its power to her and not them.

“If the Mark was out there on a person, then yes. However, the Mark hasn’t found a host yet. You still have a chance.” The smirk did not disappear, only grew.

“And the other Marks?” Zelda asked, stealing a side glance at the Dungeon Master.

It nodded, “I can sense two Marks already formed, though one is far, let’s say, dimmer than the other.”

“Courage and Wisdom,” Zelda muttered. What was she to do with them? “Would you lend those Marks your power?”

“Depends on if I thought they could handle it. Those Marks are much less equipped to deal with everything that my power entails.”

“So I still have a chance,” Zelda felt her mind light up with an idea.

The Dungeon Master nodded, “Yes. You still have a chance.”

Zelda felt herself smile as she quickly walked towards the study to her right. She heard the Dungeon Master following after her, as it usually did, its footsteps simultaneously heavy and silent against the carpeted flooring.

“Just what do you think you’re doing? I was enjoying the suffering on display.” The Dungeon Master chuckled. Zelda couldn’t tell if it was being sarcastic or if it genuinely just wanted to watch the misery of Castletown all day.

No matter to her though. “I have a job for you to do.”

“So, you think that you can order me around now, huh?”

Zelda shook her head as she entered the study. It wasn’t large by any sense of the imagination, and all of the books, scrolls, desks, and chairs did not make it any more spacious. It was dark, though lit up a little when Zelda snapped her fingers, sending a small ball of black and red flame towards a candle on one of the tables. She turned her attention towards one of the bookshelves, searching for the scroll that she knew was in here somewhere.

“And now you think you can ignore me?” The Dungeon Master sounded more amused than it did angry.

“Not at all,” Zelda responded as she checked the contents of the scroll she picked up. A map of Hyrule field. Useful, but not in this situation. She rolled it back up and placed it back on the shelf. After a few minutes and some more grumbling from the Dungeon Master, Zelda found the scroll she was looking for, letting out a small victory noise as she held it up in the air.

She quickly made her way towards the table with the candle on it – the fire burning black and red still – and swept all of the other papers and books off to the side. A few fell onto the floor, making a clattering sound as they hit and damaged their spines. Zelda couldn’t bring herself to care in this moment. She had a plan and she had to make sure that it went through.

She opened the scroll, finding a few pins stabbed into the wood of the desk, and pinned the map open on its four corners. In front of her was one of the only complete maps of Hyrule in Castletown. It was a century or so out of date, her cartographers hadn’t been able to go out and document anything for the past couple decades, but it would have to do.

She turned towards the Dungeon Master, smiling triumphantly as she gestured towards the map. “Tell me where they are, the other marks.”

The Dungeon Master gave her a look, though it was difficult to determine what it was with the mixture of the dim lighting and the general lack-of-face that it had.

“Go on,” she impatiently gestured towards the map again.

“Just what is your plan?” it asked, sounding curious.

“I need to make sure that I receive your power. You said so yourself that there is a chance that you could give it to one of the other Marks. Therefore, no other Marks, a highly decreased chance on me not receiving your full power. It also buys me more time to acquire the Mark of Power myself.” Zelda explained, all the while continuing to gesture vaguely towards the map.

“You wish to be rid of them?” Zelda could hear the Dungeon Master smirking. “Hunt them down and kill them?”

“No other Marks, no competition.”

“Hylians can be so interesting when they want to be,” The Dungeon Master chuckled and shook its head, “And here I thought that I would grow bored of them eventually.”

Sheik, though not sure what he had been expecting upon entering Kakariko Village, was positive that the Zora Prince himself getting his ass handed to him by a small Hylian in a sword fight would not have been one of his guesses. The Hylian picking apples? Sure. The Hylian getting accosted by guards? That was high up on the list. The Hylian standing in the middle of town with a torch, laughing maniacally and drenched in blood as the village burned around him? Also very likely.

This, however, was not.

Sheik stood in confusion at the bottom of the hill as he watched the two fight in front of Impa’s house. Spar. Well, he hoped that they were sparring. Though, seeing as no guards were stopping them and a couple of children were watching on in fascination, it seemed that the context clues checked out.

The Hylian gave a yell of effort as they grabbed the Zora’s arm, kicked off the ground, and flipped themselves around using the momentum to land on the Prince’s back. The sword, it appeared to be wooden now that Sheik had a better look at it, was positioned to be stabbed directly into the side of the Zora’s neck. The Zora dropped his own sword, arms going up to show that he was unarmed as he gave the verbal cue that the Hylian had won.

A few of the children cheered as the Hylian gracefully hopped off of the Zora’s back (a few, Sheik noticed, were digging around in their pockets, presumably for Rupees). Sheik took the opportunity to go up and introduce himself. He was here to be a translator after all (thanks, Purah).

“You must be the Hylian I was sent to translate for,” Sheik called when he got close enough to the pair.

“Ah, yes,” the Zora Prince’s face lit up in a smile, “Impa was telling us about that.” He looked to the Hylian who nodded.

“My name is Sheik,” Sheik held out his hand.

“Sidon,” the Prince shook it, his large hand encompassing Sheik’s own. “And this is Link.”

Link didn’t shake Sheik’s hand, instead giving a polite smile and a sign of, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Sheik returned the smile.

“You understand Hylian sign?” Sidon sounded excited, his expression matching his zone exactly.

“Yes, I was sent here to-“

“Link! This is great news!” Sidon turned to Link, hands moving vaguely as though he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “No more charades!”

“No more charades,” Link agreed, Sheik about to translate when Sidon picked up Link in a hug and spun him around a few times.

“What is all this commotion?” an older voice yelled from the top of the stairs. Sheik turned and saw Impa, in all her glory, standing and glaring down at the three as she leaned heavily on a cane, Paya hovering around her nervously. “I let them spar outside once and it leads to this,” he heard her mutter. Super hearing had its advantages sometimes, though Sheik wasn’t sure if he liked being able to hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Impa! The translator is here!” Sidon called up, finally releasing Link from his spinning prison. The small Hylian was having a hard time keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground, stumbling every so often and having to grab onto Sidon’s arm for support. Sheik, in that moment, was grateful that Purah never programmed him to be able to become dizzy – it did not look fun.

“Yes, yes. I can see that. I could also hear it from in my house!” her voice sounded amused as she shook her cane at them slightly. “Now get up here, we don’t have all day!” she called as she slowly made her way back into the house, Paya continuing to hover just in case her grandmother fell.

The three climbed the stairs and followed her into the house, Sidon practically vibrating with excitement the entire way. Link was more subdued, though his excitement shone clearly on his face. Sheik could understand, finally being able to be understood after so long? It was like being confined for your whole life in a cell only to be released into an open field: exciting, but also terrifying.

Impa was already on her pillows when the three made it indoors. She motioned for them to sit down before sending Paya off to grab them some tea. “I assume your travels were well, Sheik?”

Sheik nodded, finding himself a little annoyed that they were starting with small talk. As much as Purah was excited to learn more about Hylians, Sheik found himself sharing that excitement over his two and a half days of travel. He wondered why the Hylian couldn’t speak, why he was here in the first place, the circumstances that led to this meeting happening in the first place, as well as if there were any ulterior motives that the Hylian was hiding.

He wanted answers to those questions and he wanted them now, Goddesses-dammit! He didn’t want to be wasting his time on small talk. He took a deep breath in and sighed, indulging Impa in her small talk while Paya made the tea. His travels were fine, no he didn’t get into any trouble on the way, the weather was lovely. Purah was still as Purah as ever, no, Symin hadn’t domesticated Sunshrooms yet, much to his disappointment.

Sheik had to hold back a yell of “Fucking finally!” when Paya came in with the tea. She set down a cup in front of everyone (sans Sheik because of all his robotic parts that would clash with the tea) and excused herself upstairs. Impa took a long sip of her tea, seeming to drag the moment on on purpose. Taking a glance over at Sidon and Link, it seemed that they shared his impatience.

Finally, after another long few seconds, Impa set her tea down and turned her attention towards the three sat on her floor. “Sheik, come over here so you can see better,” she gestured to an area on the floor in front of Link, “and then we can start.”

Sheik complied, moving to where he was supposed to, eyes trained on Link as he prepared to translate.

“Let’s start simple, yes?” she received three nods, “My question from a few days ago, Link. Sidon said that your Queen cut out your tongue. Why?”

“I was a potion maker for her,” Sheik translated, “Many of the ingredients I needed could not be found in Hyrule field. She wanted to make sure that, should I be captured or something of the sort, that no one would be able to learn about what is happening in Castletown.”

Impa sat back in shock, “She wanted her secrets to stay safe.”

“And stay safe they did,” Sidon agreed, all of his earlier excitement dying down into something close to sadness or pity.

“But not anymore,” Sheik reminded them. “She never took Purah into account.”

“I highly doubt she knows of Purah’s existence, but even if she did, Purah is difficult to plan around.” Impa stated, her initial shock smoothing over back into professionalism.

“What secrets did she not want to get out?” Sidon asked, eyes wide with curiosity, his own shock seemingly forgotten.

“Secrets like the Dungeon Master.”

“Dungeon Master?” Impa asked, confusion evident in her voice.

“The giant boar-thing that appeared in the sky a few nights back. Presumably at least.” Link’s eyes were trained on the floor as he spoke. A few seconds passed with no one speaking.

“Presumably?” Sheik prodded.

Link shrugged, “No one really knows what the Dungeon Master is supposed to look like. I’m not even sure the Queen knows, though she probably does now. She has been holding ceremonies every month on the night of the Blood Moon to offer the Dungeon Master sacrifices.”

“If that flying boar really is this Dungeon Master, then we can assume it to be the cause of all the Malice that sprung forth.” Impa stated. “Do you know why she was doing all of this?”

“She kept her plans close to her and her advisors. I was only told what potions to make and when to get them to her by. I can only assume that it has something to do with her thirst for power though. There’s a very popular rumour that she killed her own father to ascend the throne early.” Link explained, still refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

Sheik felt troubled by this information. The Queen wants power so she sacrifices her own people in order to appease some strange boar-thing in order to, presumably, gain more power. Goddesses, she didn’t sound like she was all there when it came to rational thought.

“Do you know why the Hylians cut contact all those years ago? Was it taught to you?” Sidon asked, his eyes still having an edge of pity in them.

Link shook his head, “That kind of information is lost to the general populous of Castletown. If anyone has it, it’s in the Castle Library somewhere, though, even that might be asking for too much.”

Silence enveloped the room as they all took in the information that Link was able to give them. No one knows why Hylians cut contact, he doesn’t know why the Hylian Queen decided to summon this Dungeon Master or what she plans on doing with it. Cutting off Link’s tongue had prevented him from spilling secrets, yes, but he did not have very many secrets to spill in the first place.

“She sounds paranoid,” Sheik said after a couple minutes of silence.

Link snorted, “That’s an understatement.”

Some of the tension lifted out of the room slightly at that comment, though the atmosphere remained heavy. Silence crept back in a few seconds later.

“I think that’s enough for interrogating Link for today,” Impa broke the silence this time, “I have a couple of questions for you, Sheik.”

Sheik jolted at the sound of his name, everyone’s eyes suddenly on him. “Ask away.”

“You know about the Triforce, yes? I already shared the story with Link and Sidon, but you wouldn’t be able to find pieces of it, would you?” Impa asked and she leaned forward slightly, her expression hard as stone and difficult to read.

Sheik thought about it for a moment once he got over his initial confusion, “I could try, though that sounds like a job more for Purah than for me. Why am I being asked this?”

“Link is in possession of the Triforce of Wisdom.” Impa stated as if that explained anything.

Sheik turned towards the small Hylian who already had his hand free of his glove. There, in full glowing glory, was the Triforce of Wisdom. “Holy shit,” Sheik found himself muttering under his breath.

“Why would Sheik need to be able to find other pieces of the Triforce?” Sidon asked, eyes glued to Link’s bare hand.

“From what Link has told us about the Dungeon Master as well as the spread of all the Malice, I would need to research for a few days, but I’m sure that my working hypothesis will be enough for now.” Impa started. “There is an ancient legend, less ancient than that of the Triforce but not by much. It speaks of a Hero in possession of the Triforce of Courage sealing away a Malice of some kind. Many chunks of the story are missing, and there is a strange section about planting a tree to grow some fruit for a dead dragon, but some of the parts that are still intact speak of a being called ‘Demise’.” Impa recounts.

“Demise?” Sheik repeats as he searches his internal database for the legend Impa’s talking about. He finds it not long after, recognizing the strange part about the tree as well as the mentions of Demise.

Impa nods, “Now, this is just the working theory, do not take my word for it now, but by assuming that the Hero in the legend teamed up with someone in possession of another part of the Triforce, if not both, then we can figure that, by finding other pieces of the Triforce, that Link would be able to seal away both the Dungeon Master and the Malice.” Impa explains.

“Seeing what the Malice did to Bazz… this Dungeon Master is bad news isn’t it?” Sidon asks, turning to a strangely quiet Link who appeared to be lost in thought. “If the Dungeon Master and Demise are one in the same, or even remotely related… Hey Impa, what did Demise do in the legend?”

Impa slowly shakes her head, “I cannot remember if the legend had its true goal still intact, but I think I remember it being something akin to ‘destroying all of the Goddesses creations’.”

“Kill the Hylian,” Link slowly signed, “Let the Malice consume.” The expression on his face was troubled.

“What?” Sheik asked incredulously after translating. “Where did that come from?”

“The Hebra Mountains. I was attacked by the Lynel I needed to kill for potion ingredients. Its blood ate my sword and then it said that before throwing me off a cliff.” His hands were shaking slightly as he remembered.

“So that’s what you were doing up in those mountains.” Sidon sounded like he had just solved one of life’s greatest mysteries. “We were wondering what a Hylian was doing up there by themselves. It makes sense now.”

“Woah woah woah. Back up, back up.” Sheik was incredibly confused. “The Lynel spoke to you? It’s blood ate your sword?”

“It also smiled at me,” Link shuddered at the memory, remembering the fear he had felt in that moment, remembered the feeling of being impaled and then thrown.

“What does that have to do with this legend about Demise?” Sheik asked.

“This is worrisome,” Impa interrupted. “Link, this was before the Dungeon Master was presumably released, yes?”

Link nodded, Sidon adding in his own agreement, stating that it was a couple days beforehand.

Impa looked lost in thought for a few moments, her eyes widening as she seemingly came to some conclusion. “I need you three to go to Hateno to see Purah. Tell her that she needs to find a way to track where the other pieces of the Triforce are.”

“And where is this coming from?” Sheik asks, ignoring Impa’s troubled tone.

“I need to see if I can find anything more on that legend. Do you know what Demise’s goals were, Sheik?” Impa asks, hope flashing in her eyes for a second before being replaced with worry.

Sheik runs another thorough search of his database and comes up with the same fragmented legend that he had found earlier. He informs Impa of such, tensing when she shakes her head and covers her face with her hand in a very non-Impa like gesture.

“I will begin my research tonight; I need you three to head to Hateno right away so that Purah can get started on locating the other pieces.”

“Impa?” Sidon asks, not sure where else to go with his question.

“If my hunch is correct,” Impa answers regardless, “Then the Dungeon Master and Demise are one in the same and share the same goal. Should that goal be to consume all of the Goddesses creations with Malice, like what we can assume happened to that Lynel, then we have a big storm coming.”

And somewhere, in the depths of a maze, someone begins to stir after centuries of slumber.

Chapter Text

Sidon, Link, and Sheik had set off for Hateno the day prior with Impa’s blessings of clear skies and fast travels. Sadly, her blessings didn’t include not being jumped by a small horde of Bokoblin a day into their journey; if they did, maybe the group wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

It had been peaceful: the skies were blue with minimal cloud cover, there was birdsong from the nearby grove of trees, a dusting of snow coated the ground, and a light breeze blew through the valley that they found themselves in, greeting them with cool air from the nearby Lanayru Mountain Range. The three of them had let their guard down slightly, Link and Sheik teaching Sidon basic words in Hylian Sign, so it was entirely their fault that they didn’t hear the horde until one brave Bokoblin had jumped on Sidon’s back and was attempting to shank him with a particularly sharp stick.

Link managed to shoot the Bokoblin directly in the eye before the stick found itself a new home in Sidon’s neck, said Bokoblin dropping to the ground dead with a cut off shriek. There were a few seconds of peace as the three exchanged glances with one another before the rest of the horde jumped out of the nearby bushes and ran straight towards them, sharp sticks in hand.

The group managed to make quick work of the Bokoblins – Sidon stabbing them with a spear, Link had traded his bow for a short-sword, and Sheik had taken to punching them so hard that their skulls caved in with a sickening crunch. The battle didn’t last long, only five or so minutes, though, near the end, Sidon noticed something odd happening with Link.

Link was ambidextrous, though he favoured his right hand from what Sidon could gather, so imagine his confusion when Sidon glanced over at his small friend and saw his sword in his left hand, stabbing a Bokoblin with a little less force than he usually had.

Once the final Bokoblin landed on the ground dead, Sidon quickly made his way over to Link who was staring at his right hand in confusion.

“Are you okay, Link?” Sidon asked, glancing between Link’s face and his ungloved right hand. Nothing seemed wrong with it, though. Odd.

Link nodded, signing an affirmation, though his right hand didn’t seem to be responding as well as his left.

“The fuck is wrong with your hand?” Sheik asked, stepping forward to inspect it.

Link shrugged, “It just kind of stopped working for a second.”

“Stopped working?” Sidon questioned. How did a hand just stop working?

Link nodded as he pulled his sword from its sheath with his left hand. He then passed it to his right hand where it started shaking before dropping to the ground a second later. Sidon and Sheik stared as Link couched down to grab his sword, attempting to pick it up with his right hand. The sword would make it up a couple centimeters, shaking all the while, before Link seemed to lose his grip and it fell to the ground.

“Has this ever happened before?” Sheik asked as Link put his sword away with his left hand.

He shook his head, “Only today, as far as I can remember; though, it seems to be getting better now. I was fighting and then just lost all grip in this hand. I’m lucky I didn’t get impaled when I dropped my sword.” Link explained, his right hand becoming steadier the more time passed.

“What could have caused that then?” Sheik pondered; arms crossed over his chest in thought.

Sidon thought for a moment. “Maybe it has something to do with your shoulder? It still wasn’t healed completely when we left, right?”

Link shook his head as he shrugged his right arm out of its sleeve before bringing his tunic up and over his shoulder. The three looked closely at the wound that still hadn’t healed in spite of all their efforts. It looked worse than it did when Mipha had healed it some; the wound having scabbed over, though the edges were red and angry with small purple spider veins crawling out from it.

Sheik looked at Sidon for an explanation, though Sidon was just staring at Link’s shoulder, his mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to start a sentence.

“Why is it unwrapped?” Sheik asked, his gaze leaving the stuttering prince and turning on a sheepish-looking Link. “If it hasn’t healed completely, why is it unwrapped?”

Link shrugged one shoulder, signing a poor excuse about wounds needing to breathe or some other bullshit. Sheik just sighed and hung his head. He had known these two for only a couple of days and yet he knew that they would be the death of him.

“I’d say that I expected better of you two but I don’t know either of you well enough to ensure that that would be apt.” Sheik said as he shook his head. “Let’s just heal it some, wrap it up, and then Purah or Symin can look at it once we reach Hateno.” He instructed.

 Link and Sidon nodded, and quickly got to work. Sidon’s hands emitted a dull white glow as he held them over Link’s shoulder. After a few seconds he stopped, face scrunching up in confusion before trying again. A few seconds later and he stopped again, looking at his hands like they had sprouted wings and started squawking like a cucco.

“What’s wrong?” Link signed, worry evident on his face as he looked up at his friend.

“It’s not working?” Sidon muttered, still glaring at his hands.

Sheik looked at him in shock, “Not working? But aren’t you one of the only Zora able to use healing magic? How is it not working?” he asked, tone revealing how shocked he felt.

Sidon shook his head, “I don’t know! It’s just not taking no matter how much I try and push into the wound.”

Stunned silence fell upon the group as they all looked between Sidon’s hands and Link’s angry shoulder wound.

“Well, that’s not good.” Link stated bluntly.

“That’s an understatement.” Sheik said under his breath as he dug around in his bag for some bandages and some salve of some sort. He stocked up in Kakariko, they should be in there somewhere.

“Wasn’t Mipha able to heal it somewhat?” Link asked, Sheik translating as he glanced between Link’s hands and the insides of his bag. There! Aha! He found it! He pulled it out, showing it to Link before scooping a generous portion out of the jar and placing it directly on the wound.

“Mipha is the best when it comes to healing magic. Only those in the Zora with royal blood have the capacity for it, but she’s the best at it. We joke that she stole it all from the gene pool and left me with the bare minimum.” Sidon explained as he stepped forward and helped Sheik wrap Link’s shoulder in a layer of bandages.

“And you don’t have anymore of that weird, thick health potion left, do you Link?” Sheik asked, eyes not straying from his work.

Link shook his head, waiting until Sheik finished wrapping his shoulder to sign. “Used it all back in Kakariko. Besides, it has to be applied hot to work effectively.”

“When we stop for camp tonight, you should make some and put it on there.” Sheik gestured at the wound, “I’m not sure what’s going on with it, but it almost looks like an infection of some sort is starting to settle in.”

“That’s really not good.” Link signed when his tunic was back on properly.

Sheik nodded, “Another understatement.”

“We have to keep a close eye on it then,” Sidon added, placing a comforting hand on Link’s uninjured shoulder, “Don’t want you to get sick.”

“It would only get worse with all the travelling we’re going to have to do. Finding the other two Triforce pieces isn’t going to be easy,” Sheik sighed, crossing his arms, “Link getting sick would only make that more difficult.”

“I just won’t get sick then,” Link stated as he started walking again, “Simple as that.”

Sidon and Sheik stared at him with wide eyes as they moved to catch up with him. “It’s not as simple as that, Link.” Sidon explained. “I don’t think you can stave off an infection with willpower alone.”

Link shrugged, “Then I’m just going to have to travel while sick. I’ve done it before. I can manage.”

Sheik hid his face in his hands, letting out a tired grumble of, “The death of me. The absolute death of me. Barely known you for three days and I’m already getting grey hairs.”

“Sheik, your hair is already white though?” Sidon pointed out, his voice rising in confusion.

“Stress wrinkles then.”

“Isn’t your skin synthetic?”

Sheik threw his arms up in exasperation.

For all the grumbling that Sheik did about him, he did truly feel pity for Link as Purah flitted around him like an excited hummingbird. Link, after barely getting an introduction out, was abruptly sat in a chair, stripped of his tunic, and forced to sit still as Purah poked and prodded him, writing something down every couple of seconds.

Sheik and Sidon could only watch as their friend, and Sheik could categorize Link as a friend, be delegated to lab specimen. He didn’t seem too bothered by it, all things considered, complying with what Purah asked him to do with little question.

“Where did all these scars come from, Linky?” Purah asked, poking at a raised pink one that looked a month or two old.

“A Lynel.” He supplied.

“I thought that one was from a Lynel,” Purah pointed to the scar on his midsection from when he got ran through back on Hebra Mountain.

“That one too.”

Purah looked at him, her head tilted to one side in interest. “Do you fight Lynels often?”

Link nodded, “Their hooves, horns, and guts are particularly potent potions ingredients. Had to add them to almost every potion that the Queen ordered.” He explained.

“Are most of these from Lynels then, snap?” Purah questioned, quickly writing something down in a Sheikah Slate.

Link shrugged, “A good few of them are. A couple of them are from some Lizalfos, a few from lighting, this one is from when my shield caught fire on Death Mountain.” he pointed to the back of his left forearm, a large area scarred over and discoloured.

Sidon could only stare in horror as Link pointed to scar after scar after scar and explained what he thought they were from. Just how often did Link get himself hurt? How had he managed to survive this long with his current state of self-preservation? He glanced over and shared a look with Sheik who looked equally concerned.

“And you don’t remember ever seeing the Triforce on your hand before the other day?” Purah asked, poking and rubbing at said Triforce like Impa had done. It still held true, etched permanently into Link’s skin.

He nodded, “The only time I’ve ever seen the Triforce before was on something around the Queen. I think it was a statue or a book?” Link signed once Purah released his hand.

She nodded, writing down more notes. “Curiouser and curiouser,” she mumbled to herself before turning her attention to Sheik and Sidon still awkwardly standing by the door. “Sheiky, can you check your databases to see if the stories about that Hero say anything about how he received the Triforce?”

A few seconds passed.

“Something about a Sky Keep? It also mentions someone called Levias, as well as something about lumpy pumpkins, but it doesn’t say anything too clear.” Sheik answered. “Though, from what I can gather, he had to go through quite a few trials to get it, though what they were, I can’t find.”

“Does any of that sound like something you’ve ever done, Linky?” Purah asked, turning her attention back to Link.

Link shook his head, confusion prominent on his face. “I once made a pumpkin soup?” he offered.

Purah tilted her head back and forth a few times before conceding and writing it down. “Anyone have any ideas, then?”

The group fell into silence, the only sounds heard were a whirring of a machine in the corner of the lab, and Symin muttering about Sunshrooms outside.

“Maybe,” Sidon started, unsure of where he was going with this, “it has something to do with this Demise-thing being released?”

Sheik nodded, “Impa did say that she had a hunch that the Dungeon Master and Demise are the same.” He put his hand to his chin in thought.

“That Hero got the Triforce in order to defeat Demise, didn’t he?” Link asked, a look of terror dawning on his face at that thought.

“Presumably, yes. I don’t know why else he would. Again, it doesn’t say specifically, but he does end up sealing away Demise.” Sheik supplied.

Link’s eyes widened, “Does that mean…” he looked at the Triforce on the back of his hand, unable to finish his sentence. He couldn’t fight that thing, could he? Would he have to at all?

A tense silence filled the lab even as Symin was yelling at his Sunshrooms outside. Would he have to? Sidon looked on at his friend, eyes wide and hands shaking slightly as he looked down at the golden triangle etched into his hand.

Sidon took a deep breath and walked towards Link, crouching down to be at eye-level, and putting a comforting hand on his left shoulder. “Even if you do, you won’t be alone,” he reassured. “We’ve still got two other pieces of the Triforce to find! And, even if they all end up going to you, you will not be alone in that fight. You will have me. You will have Mipha. You will have Sheik. Heck, if it were explained to the Zora soldiers, they’d probably have your back too!

“The point is, you won’t be alone. We probably shouldn’t fret over it now though anyway. We don’t even know where the other pieces are yet. Everything will work out and we will cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?” Sidon hoped that his expression conveyed comfort and assurance as he stared at Link’s terrified one.

Link nodded slowly, placing his hand on Sidon’s shoulder in an assurance that he understood.

“Right, about that.” Sheik said, moving away from the door. “Forgot to mention it. Are you able to, I guess the word might be ‘upgrade,’ me so that I can sense where the other pieces of the Triforce are? Or just have a way to track them down?” he leaned against the table Purah was standing on.

“Track them? Is there no mention of where they may be in the legend?” Purah asked looking up from her notes.

Sheik shook his head, “I don’t think so. Unless an Eldin, Faron, or a Lanayru that’s a desert rings any bells.”

Head shakes from everyone.

“And Impa said nothing about where they could be.” Purah said as more of a statement than a question.

“Nothing. Told us to come to you because, if anyone could find a way to track them, it’d be you.” Sheik explained, shrugging.

Purah thought to herself for a moment before hopping off the table and moving over to a strange looking stone thing on the other side of the room. She muttered to herself, something about runes and a sensor. She stared at the stone for a few seconds before turning back to Link. A small ‘hmmm’ escaped her lips as she pondered, head tilting this way and that.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said finally, “though I’m not sure if it’s going to work.” She walked towards the back of the lab, opening the backdoor and yelling for Symin. He appeared a few seconds later, a miscoloured Sunshroom in one hand and a Sheikah Slate in the other.

“Linky, please hold out your hand.” Purah instructed, pushing Symin over to where Link was still sat in the chair. He complied, a look of confusion crossing his face as Purah told Symin to ‘take a picture.’

A snap sounded from the slate as Symin put it over Link’s hand and pressed on the screen. A few seconds of tense silence from the two scientists before a light jingling played and Purah yelped with joy.

“It worked! Snippety snap, I was not expecting that to work!” Purah held her head in shock as she stared at whatever was displaying on the Sheikah Slate.

“What worked?” Sheik asked as he, Sidon, and Link shared looked of confusion and concern.

“Do you remember that project that Symin was working on, Sheiky? The Sensor?” Purah asked, he voice overflowing with joy and excitement. She was practically vibrating where she stood as she refrained from jumping up and down.

Sheik tilted his head back and forth, “Something about… Sunshrooms?” he ventured, not completely certain what a Sensor had to do with domesticating Sunshrooms.

“It did start with that, didn’t it?” Purah looked to Symin, her words contemplative as she thought back.

Symin nodded, “It did! I originally created the Sensor so that I wouldn’t have to look as hard to find Sunshrooms – though it was only after I created it that I had the idea to try and domesticate them. They are quite difficult to make grow when they are not out in the wilds. If the PH balance of the soil isn’t just right, and if the amount of sun they receive each day is off by a couple of seconds-“

“Symin, the Sensor.” Purah interrupted, hoping to get the explanation back on track. Link and Sidon were looking at Symin like he had just grown a second head.

“Right, right. The Sensor,” Symin said, sounding slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to explain how his Sunshroom domestication project was coming along. “I created something that I called a ‘Compendium’ which, when you take a picture, uploads the data captured into a database stored within the Sheikah Slate that uses a radar to search for objects in the vicinity with similar data points.”

Sheik nodded in understanding. It made sense, though glancing over at Link and Sidon’s expressions made Sheik change what he thought about the explanation. “Maybe in simpler terms, Symin? Not everyone here is a scholar.” Sheik suggested, noting the relived looks that washed over Link and Sidon’s faces.

“Right! Right. So sorry about that. Basically, you take a picture and, using that picture, the Sensor can find where more of that specific object it. If I took a picture of a Sunshroom, the Sensor would be able to lead me to where more Sunshrooms are growing.” Symin explained, holding up his miscoloured Sunshroom. The poor thing was a dull blue rather than a brilliant golden orange.

“So, you thought that taking a picture of Link’s Triforce could get the Sensor to lead us to the other pieces?” Sidon asked, voice still a little confused.

Purah nodded. “And it worked, as far as I can tell. Watch, snap!” she plucked Symin’s slate out of his hands and walked away from Link. A beeping sounded from the slate, growing fainter the further away she got. When she stopped, so did the beeping. She then walked towards Link, the beeping growing louder and more erratic the closer she got to Link.

“That’s really cool.” Link commented, watching in fascination as Purah moved back and forth, the beeping getting louder and fainter in turn.

“How do we know that it’ll track the other pieces of the Triforce and not just Link’s?” Sheik asked.

Purah turned to him, beaming. “We don’t!” she stated, voice all too cheery.

“Won’t this just tell us where Link is though? Since he’s going to be so close to it all the time?” Sidon asked, his tone slightly concerned.

A bit of wind left Purah’s sails at that. “Uhhh.” She looked back and forth between the slate and Link’s hand, walking forward, ignoring the beeps. She stopped right in front of Link, hand still out, glancing between him and the slate before bringing the slate down to touch the Triforce on his hand. She kept it there for a couple seconds before taking a deep breath, holding it, and taking a few steps backwards.

Nothing. No beeps.

She let out the breath, looking shocked that it worked. She moved back further just to make sure.

Still nothing.

She walked towards Link again.

Absolutely no beeps sounded from the slate.

“Snappity snap! I am a genius!” she yelled, unable to contain her excitement. She jumped up and down a few times, bouncing around in a tiny circle as she let her triumph show.

“What did you do?” Link put his hand down and looked at Purah with concern.

She shrugged, “Not a clue, snap! But I did it! And it worked!”

“How’d you know that would work?” Sheik asked, brows scrunched together with worry over how much Purah was bouncing.

“I didn’t, snippety snap!” she admitted, still bouncing, her excitement seemingly unwavering.

“So, it won’t track Link’s Triforce now?” Sidon clarified.

“It shouldn’t!” Purah agreed. “Now, let’s get that Compendium onto your slate, Sheiky. I’m sure the three of you are excited to be off!” she bounced over to the strange stone again, fiddling with something on the back of a podium on the floor.

“Yeah, I’d call what I’m feeling excitement.” Sheik snarked.

“I’m terrified.” Link admitted.

Sidon, hand still on Link’s uninjured shoulder, patted his shoulder a few times. “I’m sure it’ll be okay. We just have to find the other pieces now.”

“That reminds me,” Sheik said, placing his Sheikah Slate into the strange podium, blue runes appearing on the rock in the ceiling. “Just how far is the range on this thing. It didn’t seem all that big earlier.”

“It’s not the biggest. From here, it’s able to sense Sunshrooms in the forest below, though anything past that is a little iffy.” Symin admitted.

“So, we’re going to have to wander around until the thing starts beeping?” Sheik asked incredulously.

Symin, sadly, nodded.

“Any advice on where we should go?” he looked to Purah.

She just shrugged, “Pick a direction and stick with it, I’d say.” She sounded uninterested.

“That’s advice for when you’re lost and don’t know where you’re going.” Link commented.

Sidon head shifted in confusion, “Isn’t it ‘stay where you are and hug a nearby rock or tree’?” he asked.

“That’s when you know people will be looking for you.” Link explained.

“Which direction do you think we should go in then?” Sheik asked Purah, ignoring Link and Sidon’s conversation as much as he could when he still had to translate.

Purah shrugged again as she watched a glowing blue drop fall from the stone and onto Sheik’s slate. “You can’t go very far east, there isn’t much to the south. I’d say either north or west, but probably stay away from Hyrule Field. No telling what would happen if the other Hylians saw Linky.”

Link shuddered at the thought.

“It’d probably be best to make a decision in the morning with fresh eyes. It is getting quite late now.” Symin pointed out.

“Good idea,” Purah yawned, “I’m getting pretty tired myself.” She turned to Sheik, Sidon, and Link, “I’d say go to the Inn, but they can be a little difficult to rent from after dark. Maybe talk to Bolson, see if you can rent one of his houses for the night. They’re pretty comfortable from what I hear.”

The group considered this before nodding. After adding the Triforce to Sheik’s new Compendium and making sure that it didn’t solely track Link’s Triforce, the group found out where they could find Bolson and headed out for the night, waving goodbye to the two scientists on their way out the door.

“You want to rent out one of my houses for the night? Hmmm, sure. You can use the one across the bridge. Big, spacious, not a speck of dust, I promise! 75 Rupees and it’s all yours for tonight!”

Link wasn’t sure where he was. He was in a corridor of some kind, impossibly tall walls stretching up into the night sky where the stars faintly twinkled. It was cold, though not as cold as it was in the Hebra or Lanayru Mountain Ranges. No, this was a chill that Link had only felt when he needed to find Zapshrooms and ventured near the Gerudo Desert.

Walking forward, hand on the left wall so that he could follow it, Link followed what he thought was some kind of weird blue fire. It looked similar to the fire outside of the Hateno Tech Lab, though this fire looked more teal or green than it did blue the more Link looked at it.

His steps were slow and shuffled, his feet barely lifting off the ground, scuffing on the stone and sand that layered the ground. His right shoulder felt strange as well. Looking down, Link saw that it was in some kind of sling. Trying to move his hand resulted in only faint twitching in his fingers.

That was certainly concerning.

No, what was more concerning was the dull pain that began to pulse in his arm the closer he got to the strange fire. He thought he saw runes floating in the air, similar to the ones on the strange stone that Purah had in the lab.

Link rounded the corner and was met with more corridor, though this one had several offshoots of pathways that he could take. Was he in a maze of some sort? A labyrinth?

He kept shuffling forward, making slow progress towards the fire that seemed to be getting further and further away. Stumbling on seemingly nothing, Link looked down to catch his footing and to make sure he didn’t fall. When he looked up, his breath caught in his throat and terror gripped his heart.

Standing near the end of the hall was a massive, swirling, vaguely Hylian-shaped thing with a shock of bright, fire-like hair the moved on its own without any kind of breeze. Shocking blood-red eyes were trained directly onto Link as he froze in place.

Then the thing started moving, slowly walking towards Link with a determination that terrified him.

Link found himself rooted in place, unable to move. He glanced down at his feet, seeing the same swirling goop that landed on Bazz slowly wrap around his ankles. Quickly, he looked back up. The thing was still walking towards him. It was picking up speed. It was running. It was sprinting. It was sprinting directly at him. He couldn’t move. He had to move. He had to move. He had to move. Move. Move! MOVE!

Link sucked in a sharp breath as the pulsing pain in his right shoulder turned into a pounding. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move.

Blood-red eyes trained on him. A face that was a swirling nothingness of red and black fire. It was angry. It was pissed. It was running faster. It was almost to him. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit. MOVE!

To his left, where his hand was still on the wall, Link saw the Triforce begin to glow a brilliant gold, shining light and creating some sort of shield around him.

Not a moment later, the thing crashed into the shield, pounding giant fiery fists against it in an attempt to break it. Every time the shield was hit, Link’s shoulder pounded and his hand pulsed, making it difficult to concentrate. Just how long would the shield hold? He wasn’t sure, but as soon as it broke, he knew that he was dead. That thing radiated pure hatred.

It reminded Link of the Lynel on Hebra.

The thing let out an ear-shattering roar. Link tried to cover his ears but he still couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? He was terrified, yes, but why wouldn’t his limbs listen to him? The roaring died out, and Link watched in horror as the thing backed up a few paces before sprinting straight at Link, throwing it’s entire bodyweight onto the shield.

It cracked.

The thing smirked.

It backed up.

It sprinted forward.

It jumped.

The shield cracked more.

“I’m coming for you, little Hylian.” The thing crooned, smirking as it looked upon Link’s terror filled expression. “I’ll find you sooner or later.”

Link sucked in a sharp breath as the thing backed up again. He knew that the shield didn’t have a lot left in it. He could feel himself shatter each time the shield cracked. He really needed to move.

“Don’t worry, Link. I’ll make your death nice and quick. Don’t want your soul to suffer for too long.”

It backed up a few more steps.

Link.

It smirked.

Link.

It started sprinting forward.

Link!

It threw itself against the shield.

“Link wake up!”

Link sat up with a start, his breathing fast and heavy as he looked around, expecting to see that thing smirking at him from a corner.

“Woah, woah. It’s okay, Link. You’re okay.” A comforting hand was placed on his shoulder.

Link startled and looked towards the offending hand.

It was red. And large. A large red hand. It had scales and sharp claws.

Following the hand, Link’s eyes eventually rested on Sidon’s concerned face.

“You were having a nightmare. It’s okay, you’re okay. It can’t hurt you here.” Sidon reassured, his voice calm and steady.

Link nodded as he tried to get his breathing under control. It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

So why had it felt so real?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sheik asked from where he was sitting against the railing.

He let out a shuddering breath as he nodded, his hands shaking as he tried to convey what he saw. The teal light, the labyrinth, the terrifying thing that kept throwing itself against the strange shield. He mentioned his right arm hurting a lot and that it was in a sling, as well as how the labyrinth seemed to be by the desert.

Silence filled the small upstairs of the house they were renting for the night. White moonlight poured in through the window, lighting everything up and providing Link a sense of calm. It wasn’t dark. It was only a nightmare.

It was only a nightmare.

“There’s a labyrinth by the Gerudo Desert.” Sheik said after a few seconds. “Based on Link’s dream, we should either check it out or avoid it entirely.”

“What do you think, Link?” Sidon asked, hand still on his friend’s shoulder, grounding him.

Link shook his head, “I don’t know. It felt so real. There’s something there though.”

Sheik shrugged, “Maybe we should rest on it a bit more and consult Purah and Symin about it in the morning. Maybe even head back towards Kakariko to ask Impa her opinion.”

Link nodded, feeling as though his breathing was steadier and that his heart was no longer trying to beat out of his chest.

His hands were still shaking though.

“Try to get some more rest. I’ll see if I can find out anything more about this labyrinth, okay?” Sheik asked, voice oddly soft with concern.

Link nodded shakily, lying back down in his bedroll. Sidon was right beside him; Sheik was right over there. Everything was fine. It was only a nightmare. Everything was fine. It wasn’t real, no matter how it felt. Everything was going to be okay.

Link didn’t get anymore sleep that night. No one did.

Looking out over Castletown from the balcony of the throne room, the Dungeon Master smiled to itself.

“Found you.”

Chapter Text

“There must be a legend about the Mark of Power somewhere.” Zelda muttered to herself as she swung her lantern around to scan another bookshelf. Was the middle of the night the best time to go and look for information on the Marks? Probably not, but the Dungeon Master was still in a meditation of sorts  all these hours later. Zelda had thought that ‘sensing’ the Marks would only take a few minutes, maybe an hour at most, but she was quickly proved wrong and got bored of staring at the still form of the Dungeon Master.

Walking along the bookshelf, her foot caught on some rubble and she stumbled, almost dropping her lantern. She cursed as she righted herself before carefully picking her way across the chunks of wall in the middle of the walkway. What were the chances that the book she needed was trapped under part of the remains of the castle? That would be just her luck, wouldn’t it? Zelda briefly considered taking some of her builders and making them work on the library, though she quickly dismissed that thought. The training grounds had been badly damaged and needed to be rebuilt as fast as possible so her soldiers could start training again.

“I need a book. One book. Why is it so hard to find one book with any relevant information?” she asked aloud, hoping that voicing her frustrations would somehow make the book she needed be the next one she looked at.

‘Names to Run Away From’ ‘A Guard’s Guide to Royalty’ ‘Sparing?’ ‘How to Stab Things with the Pointy End of your Sword’ ‘Foraging for Those Who Never Go Outside’ ‘Castle Architecture’

“None of this is useful.”

“You might find some use out of ‘How to Stab Things with the Pointy End of your Sword.”

Zelda violently startled when the Dungeon Master’s voice sounded from behind her. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she turned from the bookshelf she was facing to glance at the featureless face and glowing hair standing just off to her right.

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humour,” she commented. “Insisting that I do not know how to use a sword.” She turned back around and continued to scan the shelves.

“And I did not think that the Queen would be one to startle so easily – yet here we are.”

“Did you find anything?” Zelda huffed as she moved along to the next shelf.

“The Mark of Wisdom.”

Zelda stiffened with surprise, “You actually found one of the Marks? Finally. I was beginning to think that you couldn’t and were just feigning meditation to get me to leave.”

“My, my, someone’s being rude today.”

“Oh, just tell me what you found.” The Queen sneered, finally turning around and facing the Dungeon Master.

“A Hylian, currently in Hateno, but will most likely be moving west within a few days.”

“A Hylian?” Zelda repeated, eyes wide in shock. One of her own subjects? “Not many are allowed outside Castletown’s walls, and those that are- they are all accounted for. Are you certain that they were Hylian?”

“I am positive, your Majesty.” It said with a sarcastic bow.

“Humour and sarcasm, it must be my lucky day.” Zelda muttered to herself. She crossed her arms and focused her attention back on the being in front of her. “Any other information other than that you are certain they are Hylian and their current whereabouts?”

“Link.”

Zelda waited a few seconds, expecting the Dungeon Master to give her more than a single word. “Link?” she repeated slowly, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

The Dungeon Master sighed heavily before slowly saying, “The name of the Hylian is Link.”

Condescending! Taking to the Queen as if she were a mere child!

“I do not appreciate your tone,” she warned.

“And I do not appreciate your attitude,” it shot back. “You’re yet to receive the Mark of Power, yet you deem it appropriate to speak as though you are above me. Your Majesty needs to understand that you hold no power over me – I am still here simply because it amuses me.” The presence of the Dungeon Master filled the room as it spoke, the air becoming thick with gaseous Malice. Red and black flecks of magic swam through the air, circling the Dungeon Master like a tornado.

Zelda grimaced, resisting the urge to cover her ears as a high pitched keening sound rang through the air, building in crescendo as the Malice and magic became thicker and faster. It lasted a few seconds longer before dissipating altogether.

The Queen gasped in air, doubled over slightly and clutching at her chest as she coughed a few times. She gave herself a few seconds to catch her breath before speaking in a low tone. “I know I’m yet to receive the Mark of Power and I know that you stay here to stave off boredom.” The Queen stood up straight, releasing her chest and grabbing the hilt of her sword. “I know that I am not above you, though you need to understand that that does not mean I will bow to you. I am the one who summoned you and I will be the one to obtain your power. Mark. My. Words.”

Silence enveloped the library as the two stared at each other, forms taut and tension as thick as Malice. Zelda clutched tightly at her sword as the silence stretched on, wondering if what she said had crossed some line with the Dungeon Master. She had spoken to it in this manner before, yes, but maybe it was now fed up with her? She wasn’t going to take her words back, she meant every single one, though maybe she could have changed her tone? No. The Dungeon Master needed to know that she wouldn’t be pushed around.

Before she could think any further, the Dungeon Master gave a short laugh and relaxed, though Zelda kept her guard up, unsure of what it was doing. “So interesting, you Hylians; never backing down from a challenge.”

Zelda loosened her grip on her sword, her fingertips tingling as they relaxed. It seemed that whatever line she had been toeing, she had managed not to cross it – though maybe she should watch her words for the foreseeable future.

Deciding that the Dungeon Master seemed amicable enough, she took a steadying breath before asking, “How did you manage to find out the name of that Hylian?”

“I heard someone say it repeatedly to try and wake him up.” The Dungeon Master explained with a smirk. “The name doesn’t ring a bell?”

Zelda sighed and shook her head slightly. It was in a weird mood, though no longer hostile – good enough a time to continue her search for her maybe-nonexistent book. “The name sounds familiar,” she admitted, “though I cannot place it.” Nor did she have any idea why a Hylian would be as far out as Hateno. Even her Alchemist wasn’t allowed that far east and no one had a larger range of movement than him. His last assignment took him to Hebra in the west, so there was no one that should be out east at all.

Wait a minute.

“Did this Hylian have any discernable features?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

The Dungeon Master shrugged, “Blond hair in a ponytail, right arm in a sling, old looking bag over one shoulder.”

Nothing rang any bells. “Did he have a scar on his left cheekbone?” Zelda asked, tracing along her own to show where it was. She had given her Alchemist that scar after he had brought in a batch of potions that were less potent than they usually were.

The Dungeon Master nodded.

The Queen cursed under her breath. Of course, it had to be her Alchemist that had a Mark! One of a few Hylians in all of Castletown that knew how to brew potions properly and the one that had a Mark just had to be the Potions Master. She didn’t have any kind of attachment to her Alchemist and only learnt his name a few minutes ago, but he wasn’t exactly replaceable. His knowledge of brewing made him a master of the craft; coupled with his fighting prowess, it made him an asset to Castletown.

He had a Mark though. If her plan was to go through, he needed to die. He was also in Hateno, an area she banned strictly because there was a Sheikah settlement with people in it. Zelda thanked her past paranoia, however, as none of Castletown’s secrets could be leaked – though if her Alchemist was able to communicate his name, just what else had he been able to tell?

She took a deep breath, a decision reached after her moment of deliberation. “That Hylian is my Alchemist. He needs to die.” She turned her attention back to the shelf, eyes skimming over the book spines. “You said that he was likely to head west soon?”

“Yes.”

“Are you able to track him?”

“Not entirely. The Mark of Wisdom protected him from my presence, though it weakens when he sleeps.”

Zelda nodded, “You’ll be able to give updates whenever he rests. Good.” It was better than nothing, she supposed, though she was not about to let those words fall from her lips.

Silence enveloped the library again, not tense and yet not comfortable. Zelda felt the Dungeon Master’s eyes on the back of her head as she moved to another bookshelf to continue her search. She had to work quickly to obtain the Mark of Power, though the race was less dire now that she knew where one of the Marks was. The Mark of Courage was still unaccounted for and the Dungeon Master had said nothing of where it may be located or who may possess it.

“What are you doing?” It asked after a few minutes, it’s eyes never leaving Zelda’s form.

“This library is accessible only to the royal family and a few high-standing staff – there is a lot of restricted or banned information in here.” She explained, grabbing out books that seemed relevant and giving them a quick glance-over. “A lot of these books are old, so there must be some information in here on the Marks and how to obtain them.”

The Dungeon Master hummed in understanding. “You are not going to wait around for it to appear?” it asked.

“That could take months. I do not have months. You said it should have appeared when I summoned you, but it didn’t, so there must be something wrong.” She slammed the book she was looking at back onto the shelf. “I am a scholar. I intend to find out.”

The Dungeon Master let out another laugh, “I was right to stick around. Mark or not, you are quite interesting.” It paused for a few seconds, seemingly thinking something over.

Zelda waited for it to speak, deciding to ignore the remarks about her being ‘interesting.’ It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t a compliment either. She didn’t know how to feel about it.

“I may know of a way to attract the Mark of Power to yourself.” It said after a few minutes.

The Queen quickly turned her attention away from the book she was skimming and fully focused on the Dungeon Master. “How?”

“It will not be easy.” It warned.

“I am not looking for easy. I am looking for effective.”

It nodded. Holding out a hand, it summoned some red and black fire in its palm. “Should you learn to wield Malice, the Mark of Power may be drawn to you.” It extinguished the fire and recrossed its arms.

“The Mark was originally yours, yes?” she questioned, the book in her hand completely forgotten.

“It was. That is why I am certain that this will improve your chances of gaining the Mark.”

A hum of understanding. “So, there’s more to Malice than the fire?” she asked. The Dungeon Master had already taught her how to wield Malice through fire, though it would make sense that there would be more to it than that.

In lieu of answering, the Dungeon Master held up a hand and snapped its fingers. The book in Zelda’s hands turned blindingly hot, causing her to drop it with a thud. When she looked down, she saw the book was disintegrating into bubbling, goo-like Malice. “Of course, there’s more than that.” The Dungeon Master said, “Though, that is only part of the basics.”

Zelda continued watching the book disintegrate, turning completely into Malice within a few seconds. The scholar in her sang with the thought of obtaining new knowledge, and the queen in her shuddered with the thought of new power.

Looking back up at the Dungeon Master, Zelda felt her resolve grow. “Let me inform my soldiers about my Alchemist first. We may begin afterwards.”

Mornings were Link’s favourite time of day: the air was lighter, the atmosphere was peaceful, and the lack of people awake made it easier to walk around. After a stressful event, Link always found that sitting and listening to nature in the morning was one of the best ways to calm down. It was a method that hadn’t managed to fail him yet.

This morning was on thin ice, however.

Even after lying awake for hours with Sidon and Sheik nearby, Link had barely been able to calm down completely. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of that thing crashing against the barrier, telling him that his death will be quick, was burned onto his eyelids. Despite being tired, that prevented him from falling back asleep.

When the room started to lighten as dawn came around, Link decided that a change in scenery might help. Sidon had managed to fall into a light sleep and Sheik seemed unaware of his surroundings as he searched his databases, so Link crept down the stairs and out the door as quietly as he could. He brought his potions bag with him – he might as well make use of this time and try to heal his shoulder.

Which brought him to where he was now: sat beside the cooking pot outside the house as a thick healing paste bubbled on the coals. He’d managed to push the pot over slightly to have a better spot for his own stone bowl but wasn’t able to manage much before his shoulder started loudly protesting. He’d been avoiding looking at it for as long as he could – preparing the paste and weaving his bandages – but those only took so and so long. It had been bad when Purah poked at it yesterday, and now Link could feel it throbbing slightly in time with his heartbeat. His Triforce was also pulsing slightly, though Link was unsure as to why that was. His shoulder he understood. The mythical symbol of divine wisdom etched into his skin? Not so much.

Deciding not to put it off for longer, Link pulled his tunic up and over his head, having to take his left arm out first before pulling the shirt the rest of the way off his right arm. He didn’t want to worry Sidon or Sheik all that much, but his shoulder was getting worse. He couldn’t stretch or bend it that much without it sending a stab of pain through him. Some red was soaking through the bandage, joined by a few spots of purple which did not look good.

He carefully unwrapped the bandages and sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the wound. It had somehow gotten worse overnight. It still had not healed over and was red and swollen, slowly leaking small amounts of blood as well as some thin, slightly purple looking liquid. The purple spider veins were reaching further out, the areas they stretched out into feeling slightly warm. The wound itself was quite warm too, boarding on hot.

Link sighed – it was a wonder he wasn’t sick. He hoped that his luck wouldn’t run out until he figured out why it wasn’t healing. Well, there wasn’t much use stressing over things out of his control, he could only treat what he could and hope for the best.

He slathered the bandage with paste and applied it to his shoulder, slightly concerned that the hot mixture didn’t feel as hot as it should on his skin. He quickly wrapped the wound and put his tunic back on, leaning back against the nearby tree as a wave of tiredness washed over him. He couldn’t see the sunrise all that well from where he sat, so he settled for breathing in the morning air to calm his nerves.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared. He never liked not knowing what was happening, especially if those events concerned him. The Triforce, the weird Lynel in Hebra, his shoulder, his weird dream, the unfinished legends – all of it was culminating into something that made him truly afraid. He had been trying to ignore all these problems, not with the hope that they’d go away, but with the hope that they’d make sense when he looked at them again. His tried-and-true method was failing him as every time he focussed back on those problems, they made less and less sense.

Why him? Why did it have to be him? What had he done to be granted a mythical power? What had he done to be saddled with the responsibility of defeating an ancient evil? He didn’t want to feel sorry for himself, but he supposed throwing a mini pity party when no one else was around to witness was okay, if only for a bit. Leaning his head against the tree, he stared up into the bare branches and took a few shuddering breaths, allowing himself to feel the fear that he’d been trying hard to conceal for a while now.

He couldn’t do this! He wasn’t a hero! He was a potion maker, for goddesses-sake! He wasn’t equipped to handle something like this. He just wanted to live a peaceful life away from the eyes of the Queen. He didn’t ask for this! Link had doomed the world just because it had decided that he was the best person to handle this situation. A war was probably going to start and it was his fault. Everyone was going to die and it was his fault. Hyrule would be razed to the ground and it was his fault.

Sidon had told him that he could rely on both him and Sheik when it came to defeating Demise, but Link couldn’t help but feel terribly guilty about it. They were putting their lives in his hands to save – they were only in this mess because of him! If Sidon hadn’t found him on Hebra, the prince wouldn’t feel the need to follow Link around. If Sheik hadn’t known Hylian sign, he wouldn’t have been called to translate and would be exempt from this mess. Had he known the two for very long? Not really, but he still felt that a strong bond had formed between them.

A bond that was likely to break as Link lead them to their deaths.

A few tears dropped from Link’s eyes and he pressed a hand against his shoulder, using the pain to ground himself and stop his thoughts from spiraling. ‘Pity party over. Come on, wrap it up Link.’

By the time the sun had fully crested the horizon and the sky had turned from orange to blue, Link had managed to compose himself, putting on the brave face he usually used when having to deal with the Queen. He didn’t want to admit his fear, didn’t want to be seen as weak, so he had to act like everything was okay – and he’d keep this act up for as long as possible.

“It’ll take you a few days travel to get to the Gerudo desert, and then another day at least to make it to the maze. Not to mention actually being in the maze, getting out of the maze, and traveling back through the hot desert to arrive back at the stable, snap.” Purah said as she wrote something down in her notebook. “Are you sure that Linky will be able to travel that far in his current state?”

Sheik could only shrug, unsure of what direction to start attacking the problem.

When he had started searching his databases, the moon had been high in the sky and Sidon was trying to calm Link down from his nightmare. By the time he had finished processing the information, the sun had risen and Link was nowhere in sight. He had panicked slightly, though moved as quiet as he could as he got up to find Link – Sidon was still asleep and who knew when he had managed to drop off.

Sheik managed to find him a few minutes later, sitting outside under the nearby apple tree, just staring up at the morning sky. He looked like he hadn’t managed to fall back asleep after his nightmare, and that exhaustion was making him look worse than he actually was. He was paler than usual, his breathing a little shaky as he greeted Sheik. He wasn’t sick, but Sheik knew that it was only a matter of time, especially after taking a look at Link’s shoulder.

A total of almost two weeks of travel just to investigate the labyrinth would do absolutely nothing for Link’s fragile health – but it was the only lead that they had.

“I just wish we knew why his shoulder is getting worse instead of better,” he said quietly. “Between the amount of that healing paste he’s been applying and Sidon’s magic, it should be less than a scar now – but it’s not even closed.”

“Stiches wouldn’t help?”

Sheik shook his head, “The wound is already infected. We’d have to fully clean all of that out before even thinking of stitching it.”

“And that’d put us behind schedule, snap.” Purah sighed.

“The stress of it might also make him sick faster.” Sheik added as he stared at a wall. Usually, there was a clear solution to problems like this, but there were so many unknown factors that it was overwhelming. Link’s wound was getting worse and they had two weeks of travel ahead of them. If they were to try to treat and stich the wound, they’d have to fully clean the area, the stress of which may speed up Link getting sick and slow down their inevitable travel. However, if they didn’t stich the wound, they’d be able to investigate their lead quicker, but the long travel time might also cause enough stress for Link to get sick.

There was also the unknown factor of what was making Link sick. His wound wasn’t healing and there was no telling why. If they kept doing what they were doing, then they’d have to hope that something would finally stick and he would get better. But, if they went to stich the wound, cleaning the area may yield an answer to their question, or it may not and they’d be back at square one. All of that being based on the assumption that the wound could be cleaned in the first place because something had to be in Link’s bloodstream if the few dark spider veins had anything to say about it.

Purah let out a big sigh, putting her head between her hands as the thought. “If we’re going to stich the wound, we need to do it now. If we’re not going to stich it, you guys need to leave now to maximize travel time before Link gets sick.

“The big question we’re asking then, snap, is if you want to travel with a sick Link, or hope that your luck holds and he doesn’t get sick until later.” She took off her glasses and rubbed at her forehead, acting closer to her actual age for once.

Sheik stared hard at a knot in the wooden table, trying to think of the best way to do this. If they asked Link, he’d say to not mind him and go forward with the travel – but that would be said out of not wanting to be a bother, not out of actually thinking that was the best decision. This was Link’s health they were discussing, yes, but Link didn’t have the best track record when it came to self-preservation, so it was a toss-up whether they should ask him or not.

Sheik took a deep breath and slowly let it out, “We’re going to have to risk it.” He decided. “Link kept saying that his nightmare felt real in a way that no other dream has before. If we go off the assumption that Demise has somehow tracked Link in his sleep, then it’s only a matter of time before forces start coming after him.”

Purah nodded, seeing his line of thought.

“We don’t know if Demise knows where Link is or not, but it is safe to assume that it either knows where he is now, or can only guess at where Link might be.” Sheik continued, crossing his arms and slowly pacing the length of the table. “Assuming the former means that we need to get Link as far away from Hateno as possible. Assuming the latter means that we need to get to the labyrinth as soon as possible so we can investigate and leave before Demise shows up.”

“Either way requires you to leave sooner rather than later, snap.” Purah summarized as she put her glasses back on. “Which means that we need to find a way to lessen the stress that Link’s body will have to go through when traveling.”

Sheik stopped pacing and went to stand next to the scientist. “How would we do that?” he asked.

“A horse.” Purah said after a few seconds.

“A horse?” Sheik parroted.

“Yes. If Link isn’t walking the entire way, that should lessen the exhaustion he’s going to feel and he’ll last longer before getting sick.” Purah said, her plan being constructed as she said it. “A horse can also carry all the medical supplies I’m sending with you.”

Sheik could only agree, having too many bandages and salves was better than having too few.

Purah ripped out a blank page from the back of her notebook, quickly scribbling down a letter before signing it and handing it to Sheik. “Give this to Tasseren and he’ll give you a good horse.”

Sheik looked down at the note, giving it a quick onceover – though finding Purah’s hastily scrawled cucco scratch to be near illegible. “We can’t just catch a horse ourselves?”

“We want a good horse, not a wild one, snap! Tasseren will give you the best he has.”

Sheik gave the scientist a skeptical look, “Does he owe you or something?”

Purah shrugged, “Or something, snap!”

“I’ll take your word for it then.” He muttered to himself. It was best not to question how Purah managed to get people to owe her favours.

“What do you think is wrong with him?” Sheik asked Sidon as the prince poked at their campfire.

“Link?”

“His wound,” Sheik clarified. “It’s not getting better.”

Sidon looked away from the flames to where Link was asleep in his bedroll. He looked the same as he did that morning, maybe a touch more tired, though that made sense with how their travels had gone that day. They had left not long after Sheik finished his discussion with Purah – though he hadn’t told them many details – and had walked until the sun had set, then went another kilometer or so for good measure. They had taken a good number of breaks, though maybe not as many as Link required in his current state, so that didn’t help in the slightest when it came to how sick he looked, and was definitely a contributing factor as to why Link fell asleep early.

“It’s not, is it?” Sidon looked back at the AI who was staring up into the near empty canopy of the tree he was sitting under. The two sat for a while, the only sounds around them being the soft crackling of the fire and the quiet and infrequent rasps that took over Link’s breathing. “That’s not the best discussion starter, I must say.” Sidon said after a few more minutes of silence.

“Yeah, just look at how well it worked,” Sheik joked. A couple minutes of silence passed before Sheik scratched at his scalp in irritation, “I just want to know what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Sidon could only nod – his friend was suffering and there was nothing he could do about it, and he’d tried to do something about it! All of the healing magic he poured into the wound did nothing but fizzle out and leave little impact. Sure, the area might be less red for an hour, but after that hour, they’d be back at square one.

“I don’t suppose there’s nothing in your databases about this?” the prince asked knowing full well that Sheik had already scoured for any information he could.

As expected, Sheik shook his head. “Nothing I’ve found is relevant to Link’s situation.”

Sidon sat back and fiddled with his impromptu fire-poker. Link was a potion maker, and a really good one if the shock resistant ones he gave Sidon were anything to go by. If there was some way for medicinal potions or salves to heal Link’s shoulder, the Hylian would have done it by now. The fact that he kept applying the same healing paste to his shoulder had to mean that he was as lost as everyone else. Sidon’s magic was also not working, though whether that was because he was not a strong spellcaster or because healing magic just didn’t help in general – there was no way to truly tell unless they made a quick stop into the Domain for Mipha to take a crack at it (a stop in which they had no time for).

So that meant that normal medicinal healing and magical healing would not help Link’s shoulder, and if there was some way for either to help, it was far beyond their knowledge and know-how. Sidon wasn’t sure of what to make of his musings, though he ran them by Sheik to see if his path of thought was even going anywhere.

“A curse perhaps?” Sheik suggested after a few minutes of mulling it over. “It’d make sense. Curses aren’t strongly affected by potions or salves, and even magic can have a hard time dealing with it.”

“So, a curse. That’s our working theory.” Sidon surmised.

Sheik shrugged, “It’s better than nothing, I guess.”

“How did Link get cursed in the first place?”

“Has he been around any curse-inducing things?”

“No?” Sidon thought for a moment, “The only thing I can think of is when he saved Bazz from being infected with Malice, but that’s about it.”

“That’s not much,” Sheik agreed. “Though, what about that Lynel that he was telling Impa about? The one that ate his sword?”

The prince could only shrug, “I found him directly after that incident and was more focused on the giant hole in his abdomen than the arrow in his shoulder.” Thinking on it now, Link had never told him how he got that near fatal wound on Hebra mountain. Presumably it had something to do with the infected Lynel.

“His shoulder wound is from an arrow?”

“And then a sword, courtesy of Bazz.” Sidon added.

Sheik gave him an incredulous look for that statement, though that was not surprising. “Why did this ‘Bazz’ stab Link in his already injured shoulder?”

“Bazz doesn’t like Hylians and he thought Link was trying to attack me,” explained Sidon.

Sheik blinked slowly at him, “Shit explanation but we have bigger fish to fry. Could either of those have caused Link’s supposed curse?”

“If either did, it wasn’t Bazz’s sword. It’d have to be the arrow, though that’s long lost on Hebra.”

Sheik clapped his hands together, “Okay, working theory: Link’s shoulder wound that refuses to heal is the result of a cursed arrow that hit him on Hebra mountain. It probably came from the creepy Lynel that he encountered up there.”

“We could ask Link about it?” Sidon suggested, glancing at his injured friend. Link hadn’t moved since Sidon last looked at him and was still sleeping as soundly as he could in his circumstance.

Sheik shook his head, “I don’t want him to panic. Any added stress will just make him sick faster and we need to avoid that for as long as we can.”

Sidon whipped his head around to stare at Sheik, shocked at both his statement and how easily he made it. “It’s his own health – he has a right to know! If he’s not being included in this, then he’s left in the dark and that’s just as stressful as being included, if not more!”

Sheik looked down from the branch he was staring at and levelled a serious look at Sidon. “This is for his own wellbeing. I know he’s an adult, but sometimes, things like these have to be left to those not experiencing them.”

“That doesn’t seem right in the slightest!” Sidon exclaimed. “He has a right to know.”

“He has a right to get stressed over our half-baked theories that are built from scraps of information that may not even be true?”

“That information could be more than scraps if we just asked Link about the specifics of what happened.”

“You need to understand that our theories are only assumptions and could be proven wrong in the near future, so why stress Link out with information that might be false?”

“And you need to understand that, even if the theories do turn out to be false, Link deserves to know about what is happening, especially when it concerns his own health.”

The two glared at each other as the fire quietly crackled. Sidon knew that they weren’t going to reach an agreement on this. How Sheik could even think that leaving Link in the dark would be the best decision was beyond him. Link deserved to know so that he could make informed decisions about his health and wellbeing. Maybe he knows a potion recipe that could help more than the healing paste he currently makes, and the only reason he hasn’t tried it yet it because he’s not being told information that could help him. If it turns out to be false, who cares? False information just means that something has been checked off a list and they can move forward with a more accurate picture of what is happening.

It was going to be a long night.

Link blinked hard a few times to try and bring the road back in focus as quickly as possible, preferably before either of his travel companions noticed he had stumbled slightly. He just had to tell himself that everything was okay and that he was getting better, though that was getting harder and harder to believe with every day that passed. He didn’t wake with the sun as he usually did that morning; that combined with him having fallen asleep early the night previous, made it so that Link was more concerned than he’d been a few days ago. He knew he was getting sick, but he’d been hoping that it wouldn’t get worse as quickly as it was.

The road finally came back into focus, though Link was unsure if Sidon or Sheik had witnessed his stumble. He was almost certain that his blunder had gone unnoticed as Sidon, though walking beside him, was glaring daggers into the back of Sheik’s head as he walked a couple paces ahead of them. The two had been acting weird ever since he woke up that morning. They weren’t talking and only looked at the other to glare. The morning had been filled with silence which felt strange now that Link was used to Sidon saying something every few minutes, usually accompanied by a dry retort from Sheik. He wasn’t sure what was wrong and felt a bit too wary to ask. They’d obviously argued about something, though what that something was, Link couldn’t be certain.

“Dueling Peaks is just up ahead,” Sheik said, startling Link out of his thoughts. “I’ll go ahead and secure the horse.” With that, he was off – all without having spared a glance at either of his travel companions.

Sidon glared hard at Sheik as he ran ahead to the stable. Just what went on between those two? He was grateful that the prince had picked up on Hylian sign as quickly as he did as Link was now able to talk with him using simple sentences. Link tapped Sidon’s arm to gain his attention, slowly signing his question, “You- Sheik- Good?”

Sidon shook his head, “No. We got into a bit of an argument last night after you fell asleep.” He said, though looked like he wanted to say more. 

Link waited a few seconds before pressing. “Argument? About?”

Sidon looked to be waging a war with his own thoughts as Link waited patiently for an answer. What did those two have to argue about? They hadn’t been traveling for long, so it wasn’t because they’ve been in close quarters and are sick of the other’s presence. It must have been something major considering how the two refused to talk or look at each other normally.

“Argument, Demise?” he asked, though he was unsure what about Demise the two could argue about.

Sidon shook his head but didn’t give Link any further answer. “It’s nothing serious,” he said eventually as they got closer to the stable, “just a small disagreement. We’ll get over it soon.”

Link highly doubted that. There wasn’t much the two could argue about, and Link had a sinking suspicion that it was about him. He didn’t press Sidon further for fear that that was the case.

-They talk to Purah and Symin about it and they all agree that they should check it out.

-Guess where good Ganon is?

-They travel over there (more TRAVEL SCENE and character building and bond forming and all that good shit)

-They get to the labrynth and literally have to tie themselves together to avoid getting lost.

-The find Ganon at the end of the maze in the place where all the guardians are (a la the northeast maze)

-They free him and explain the situaion. 

-Back to impa with another TRAVEL SCENE.

-Impa explains that Purah did some research and found a sword that only a triforce wielder can wield and it would be PERFECT for defeating the calamity.

-TRAVEL SCENE to Kokiri forest!

-Find sword, Link almost dies pulling it out maybe? for tension. Who knows, fix later.

-Return to Kakariko to ask Impa for advice.

-Tells them to get the help of the four Guardians: Vah Ruta, Vah Medoh, Vah Naboris, and Vah Rudania. She said that "Having all three pieces of the triforce should help immensely. 

-Cut to tension building jump cuts of the group communing with and gaining the favour of the Guardians, interspaced with the queen pacing or something.

-The group makes way to the castle to FIGHT THE QUEEN

-PUPPET ZELDA FIGHT CIRCA TWILIGHT PRINCESS

look at you go girl, give us nothing!

-They win, Link gets stabbed through or something and Ganon finishes Zelda off with the final blow. Sidon heals Link enough so that he can fight the Calamity Proper, Sheik calling him an idiot the entire time.

-CALAMITY FIGHT CIRCA BOTW but without the giant boar at the end.

-They win! Yay!