Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were few ways in which the outside world had an effect on the Great Plateau. There were the constants, of course— the sun rose and set and the seasons affected the milder half of the Plateau. Leaves grew, changed color, and fell in slow succession. Rain became frost as the temperatures dropped, though the temperature never stayed cold enough for frost to build. It was only ever enough to bite at the noses of the small, weaker monsters that sought refuge on the Plateau’s surface.
Then there were factors that could be less predictable. A wind from the South hitting the side of the Plateau would stir a gentle breeze, making leaves rustle and causing the lantern of a weary old man to sway with a soft clunking noise. Every other season a Rito bard may make the Plateau’s surface one of the destinations of his pilgrimage and fill the air with music that flowed like water. Every other season his songs would grow longer and bolder and even the nearby monsters, dumb and hostile in nature, seemed to settle under the sweet melody.

There was only one place on this near-isolated haven that nothing, not the gentle notes of a ballad nor the light of the sun, had been able to affect in a hundred years.

On a day like today—the leaves growing lighter in color and the air growing warmer, a good Summer’s day—the old man of the Great Plateau began his daily walk with little expectation. As ever, he kept himself enshrouded in a dark cloak despite the heat. His steps were incredibly quiet for a man of his stature and that paired with his head bowed low, face hidden in shadow, the monsters of the Plateau hardly seemed to notice his presence as he passed through their territories. Perhaps if they did, the only sign they gave was the slightest of shivers. The dark figure never lingered regardless.
The hermit had never deviated from his route in the century he had walked it. Not even as beams and stone walls falling from the nearby Temple shook the earth or music flowed from a feathered guest’s fingertips did the old man’s steps stutter.
Yes, the old man was true to his path, yet he was not unflappable. Today—the first day of the Summer season of the hundredth year—the old man’s steps finally stilled before he had reached his destination.

At the center of a large hill there rested a cave. This was not unusual, as the mouth of the cave was the final point of the old man’s route before he would turn back and rest at the base of the hill. No, the cave itself was not the abnormality. It was simply the fact that the mouth of the cave was no longer sealed. For the first time in a century, light and sound and heat entered the rock chamber. The sound echoed and the stone began to warm. Light bounced and refracted and, finally, landed upon the tightly wound petals of an enormous sky blue flower. The petals shuddered, then—a reaction to the first rays of sunlight they had touched in too many years.

It was not as though the flower had ever been without light, of course. From within its petals was a light source of its own, though dim and focused entirely on what the petals were guarding.

This flower was far from ordinary. Its size was one such indicator, and the glow, another. Yet any traveler in the ruins of Hyrule would recognize this flower as one of the rare few fountains that protected a powerful source of magic. Within their petals rested a gilded pool of water that tasted of nectar and sugar. The light source in this particular flower drifted in the very depths of the fountain. It was a boy.
The petals were not impenetrable. Though muted, music notes still filtered inside the fountain. Sunlight and the outside air warmed the water. The glowing boy stirred in his sleep.

The boy's return to Hyrule did not begin with a princess’s voice in his head, as one may assume. This boy, whose own story would be unknown to himself for many months to come, drifted back into the world of the living with dreams. His muscles twitched as he dreamt, the first signs of life in a hundred years. His nose crinkled at imaginary scents. His ears flexed to listen better to sound that was not there. The little buds of growing scales on his cheekbones and shoulders glittered with every movement.

The peace of the flower was interrupted by large, trembling hands pulling back the petals to let raw, unfiltered sunlight in. The boy jerked in his sleep, then. There was a gentle tinkling sound of gems, carried in the intruder’s fist. The boy’s eyes finally opened as the first golden rupee hit the water.
Sixteen gold rupees and two silvers sank into the depths. The boy watched from the bottom, transfixed, as they slowly drifted to him, glittering brilliantly in the blinding point of sunlight. Cautiously, he extended a hand to let a silver gem land in his palm.
The silver rupee was warm to the touch, and alive with energy. The boy smiled at the sensation, yet his smile quickly melted into an expression of shock and awe as his palm radiated with white light and the gem faded into his flesh. His body thrummed with power where the rupee once laid. He giggled as the other rupees landed on him, holding his arms out to catch as many on his skin as he could. His scalp tingled where some had fallen in his hair.

The last rupee had landed, not on him but at the bottom of the fountain. The boy shifted, awareness of the water around him finally reaching his mind. After a pause he dove down after the rupee and grasped it in his hand. It practically sang as it burst with energy and melted into him.

The boy felt his heart beat twice as quickly. His body was alight with a power alien even to him as he swam towards the light source above him. In just a few kicks he burst from the water’s surface, and the flower finally bloomed.

The air that kissed his skin had a slight chill despite its warmth. The boy laughed, splashing as he swam to the fountain’s edge. His eyes landed on a boot. He glanced up at the sad, familiar eyes of the old man and with a shriek dove back into the safety of the water. From below he watched as the shadowy figure rose and disappeared from the water’s edge. The boy remained in the depths, his heart racing for an entirely new reason—he wasn’t sure if he liked the new reason.
He remained in the water, petrified, for ages. The light from outside slowly turned from yellow to orange and then to muted and white. The shadow figure never returned, but he was far too afraid to dare swim back to the surface. The boy traced the patterns light left on the fountain’s floor for hours, his curiosity about the outside world at war with his fear. He was hardly content to stay. It was the voice of a girl, a gentle and patient voice that rang in his very soul, that urged him to swim at last to the water’s surface again.

The boy at first didn’t understand the language. He knew only that sweet voice, a voice he could trust—like that of a mother’s, a teacher’s , a goddess —and at her beckoning he slowly pulled himself from the waters and onto the mushroom waiting just at the lip of the fountain. He was in a cave and he was, thankfully, alone. Trembling, he got to his feet.

The Great Fairy of the Great Plateau took his first step and immediately fell off the mushroom.

Chapter Text

It took the boy several more hours to reemerge from his fountain after the tumble he had taken. Though he bore no injuries from his fall, his confidence had bruised dramatically and he had quickly scrambled back into the comforting embrace of the fountain’s water. The night gave way to the sun while the boy sulked. The girl in his head was a gentle constant. The tone of her voice was calm and patient, yet insistent. She called to the boy throughout the night. By dawn, the boy had learned a single word, and it was Link.

The shadow returned by midday, and Link remained hidden from the figure in the safety of his fountain. There was an edge to the girl’s voice when she called to him, then. There was something about the shadow man that disturbed the voice. Link bolstered up his courage and kicked off from the bottom, emerging with a great splash. He felt a twinge of sinister glee as sweet nectar water speckled the old man’s cloak. Link kept his mouth and nose in the water as he met the old man’s gaze with a challenging stare of his own. The old man stared back. He was seemingly content to let Link emerge at his own pace.
Finally, a large hand reached out from under that massive cloak, cradling a strange ruby treasure. The old man dropped it into the water, where it floated and bobbed aimlessly until it tapped against Link’s nose. Link startled and poked it. The apple drifted away.
The old man said something. He spoke the same language as the girl, perhaps even the same words. Link did not understand. The old man’s voice was soft and kind, however, and weary. Link stared at him. The old man repeated his inquiry. Link blinked.
The apple drifted back towards the lip of the fountain, and the old man gently fished it out. There was something in Link that wished to fight, claw the apple back out of that gloved hand, it was his , but he halted his reaction to see what the old man would do.
With rapt attention he watched as the old man brought the apple to his lips and bit down, tearing away a small chunk with his teeth. Link watched the movement with fascination. The old man’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he dropped the bitten apple back into the water. Slowly, Link reached a hand out to take the apple for himself. He imitated the old man and took a hesitant bite.
It was an explosion of flavor. Sweet, tart, a slight bitterness—Link gasped with delight and almost lost the bite in his mouth. It crunched as he chewed, and he missed the flavor as soon as he swallowed. Link took another bite, larger this time. And then another. It wasn’t long before the entire apple had been consumed—including the rind and seeds, which the old man seemed to cringe at—and Link was left with empty hands and a lust for more. He looked back up at the old man and held his hands out for another.
The dark figure made a noise of mirth, his whole body shaking from the power of it. Link found his cheeks flushing in spite of himself. Then the old man gestured with a hand to the mouth of the cave. He spoke a few words in his strange language and turned to leave. Link’s hands were left empty and he made a small noise of disappointment.

A few minutes passed. The old man did not return with another apple. Link remained in the water, watching the cave entrance with rapt focus in case the old man did return. The girl’s voice gently chided him with his own name.
Link was bored. He wanted an apple. He hoisted himself out of the water again and slid his way down the mushroom path to the ground below. Now, how was he to get to the entrance of the cave? Slowly, he pulled himself up back to his feet. He wobbled, slightly, but his second attempt at walking was slightly more successful. In just three shaky steps he was at a wall. The stone offered him support as he made his way, slowly, to the exit.

The first glimpse Link had of the world outside his flower was very small. As he drew nearer to the entrance, the light outside became less blinding. He could see a tree, a rock, a flower, grass, and… something as blue as his flower, yet it wasn’t a flower at all. It fluttered delicately in the air seemingly unaffected by the inhibitions of gravity’s pull. It was tiny. Link wanted to touch it. His next step was more confident, now, and stronger.
The small creature that had Link’s attention did not seem to care that it was the subject of his focus. Or perhaps it was not aware as the small figure began to emerge from the cavern. It did react to hands grasping for it though, and it fluttered away as quickly as its wings could carry it. Higher it climbed towards the heavens, and the boy instinctively gathered strength in his legs and leaped.
He fell hard with a grunt. His nose crinkled in his frustration as he looked to his hands only to find them empty. The creature continued to flutter above his head. Link pulled himself back onto his feet and began to walk, following the creature’s path. His steps gained momentum as the butterfly appeared to draw farther from him. Link did not seem to notice or care about how quickly he moved now as his hands grew closer and closer to their prize with every grasp of air. He didn’t see the tree fast approaching until he crushed his nose against it.
He let out a squeal of pain and clasped his face in his hands. Tears pricked in his eyes and he wanted to flail and kick and scream. His foot did kick, disturbing the tall grass at the base of the tree and knocking loose another creature. Link didn’t seem to notice it, but the creature certainly noticed him.
Like the butterfly, this creature fluttered through the air with delicate wings of her own. Yet unlike the butterfly, she was brilliant pink in color and glowed with her own natural energy. She let out a small yawn—she had been asleep when she was quite literally kicked out of her hiding place—and gently fluttered over to the boy that writhed on the ground. She placed tiny hands over his. Link’s thrashing stilled. Enormous hands that hid his face from her view lowered. She giggled. He looked absolutely terrible. The little fairy took a handful of his hair—just a few strands—and tugged. Though she didn’t have nearly enough strength to move him, Link willingly got to his feet. The fairy chimed, a tiny sound of victory, and flew into Link’s face to hug his nose. Link didn’t even have a chance to wince at the touch when his pain vanished near instantly. He reached a hand up.
The fairy let go of him and chimed again as Link felt his freshly-mended nose. His hand still withdrew covered in blood. She giggled again and danced around his head. Link smiled and turned this way and that to try and follow her.

At first Link didn’t notice the old man standing at the base of the hill, waiting. The old man watched the boy play with his new companion silently, a combination of mirth and guilt coloring his expression. He stood just a little straighter when Link finally caught sight of him. Link seemed to turn rigid, as if caught doing something he wasn’t meant to do and fearing punishment. The little fairy ducked into Link’s hair to hide, coloring the nape of his neck pink. As if sensing Link’s fear, the man turned and headed toward his little fire. He set an apple atop the glowing embers before he sat.
The apple certainly caught Link’s attention. The boy licked his lips despite himself. There was amusement in the old man’s posture as he watched Link weigh his options.
After a moment of decision Link walked slowly towards the fire. It was warm before Link was within touching distance. There was a delightfully sweet aroma that filled the air and made Link’s mouth water. He barely heard the man’s noise of warning when he plunged his hand into the fire to take the apple.

The fairy chimed, not in victory this time but in concern, as Link yelled and dropped the fruit in favor of clutching his hand. The pain was far worse than a broken nose; his hand throbbed and ached and blistered. The old man leaned in to offer his assistance, but the little companion was far quicker. She leapt from her perch on Link’s shoulder and onto his wrist, surveying the burn with a critical eye. And then she lowered herself onto all fours and kissed the wound directly. Link yelped, but the burn was already receding. The fairy stood to take one look at her work with her hands on her hips. Her wings fluttered with her pride. The old man chuckled.
He said something that Link didn’t understand. Link frowned and lifted his gaze from his hand to the figure ahead of him. It was unusual—the old man looked cast in shadow far more out in daylight than he had in the dark cavern. There was something wrong about him that Link couldn’t place, but he knew he could not trust. He eyed the old man warily and the old man chuckled.
He said something again, and followed his words with movement. Link scrambled back as the old man leaned forward, but the old man never laid a hand on him. Instead, he picked the apple off the ground with a gloved hand and gently wiped away the dirt from its skin. The skin wrinkled and broke under the pressure and plumes of steam rose from the flesh underneath. Link’s attention was rapt on the apple as the old man brought it close to his face, blew on the flesh, and bit down. There was no crunching noise this time, but the old man seemed to enjoy the treat just as much as he did the first apple. Link frowned and reached to take the apple from the old man, but the old man held it away. Link made a noise of frustration. The old man considered him carefully, and then said something in his language. Just one word. Link grunted again, and the word was repeated.

‘ Link ,’ the girl’s voice called again, as the word was repeated a third time. Link’s ears pricked and he opened his mouth.
“Puh,” he tried. The old man waited, anticipation in his eyes and breath held. “Pl… ease.”

The old man said the word again, ‘please’, and gently laid the apple in Link’s hands. Link hissed and held it gingerly with his fingertips—the apple wasn’t nearly as hot as it had been before, but the memory burned just as badly.
He did as the old man had and blew at the apple’s flesh before biting. The bite was still hot, and his tongue tingled from the temperature. Link’s eyes lit with joy as he chewed. This apple was different. Soft and sweet. It warmed him on the inside when he swallowed. The apple shared the same fate as the first, much to the old man’s dismay.
When the old man spoke again, it was a question. Link didn’t have an answer. He didn’t understand. Perhaps his silence was the answer the old man was looking for, because he sighed and turned to look away into the distance.  Link, however, was not as introspective. He was already bored of the interaction and had butterflies to chase. The boy got to his feet and headed further down the path.

He didn’t travel too far when he heard chiming, yet it was not the companion nestled in his hair that had cried out. The chiming was frantic and loud. Link’s heart beat loud in his ears as he searched for the source of the crying.
Beyond the crumbled archways of a ruined courtyard was a lanky red monster carrying a thick wooden club in its hand. It faced away from the stone arch Link hid himself behind, distracted by the little fairy who had her wing caught between the rusted segments of a long metal structure. The fairy chimed again, struggling as hard as she could to free herself without tearing her delicate wing. The monster licked its chops as it crept towards her. Link’s heart wrenched violently and he burst into the courtyard with a holler. There was a tree branch on the ground ahead, and Link threw his hand to the side to swipe it up as he ran forward. The monster squealed at the challenger and lifted its club to strike.
Link was faster. With a quick swipe of his arm, the branch whipped at the monster’s snout, sending it reeling back in shock. It recovered quickly with a shake of its head and Link threw himself backwards as the club in its hand swung forward, narrowly missing his head. The fairy in his hair jingled like she was screaming. Link swung his branch again and sent the monster flying backwards with a lucky hit to its throat. The branch snapped in half from the force of the impact. The club bounced on the pavement as the bokoblin scrambled to get back onto its feet. Link lunged for the weapon.
The club was surprisingly lightweight for its size and felt brittle, yet the wood was firm enough to send the monster reeling back again when Link struck at it. The bokoblin shrieked again and threw a rock, hitting Link in the face. He felt the sting of a new cut on his cheek, but it wasn’t enough to deter him from his task. With grit teeth and a fierce gleam in his eye, Link swung the club again and hit the bokoblin in the face. The monster’s final scream was cut short as it hit the pavement and burst into a cloud of malice and acrid smoke. Link paid no heed to the pieces of the monster left behind as he turned to the fairy he rescued.

The fairy in his hair jingled as Link carefully assisted the other in her escape. Now that she was no longer panicked and afraid for her life, the little fairy was able to pull her wing free easily with Link’s help. A small tear in the membrane of her wing revealed itself as it was pried loose. Link’s heart ached for the little one and he held her close to his heart as he got to his feet.
Both fairies chimed at each other as Link made his way back up the hill. He didn’t spare the old man a glance as he passed though he certainly felt eyes on him. He cradled the fairy in his hands all the way to his flower, where he gently laid her upon the great mushroom outside of the fountain. The little fairy lowered a hand to the nectar water and brought some to her mouth to drink. There was a jingling as the fairy in Link’s hair emerged to drink from the fountain’s water as well. The first fluttered over the water’s surface, practically dancing, while the second let the fountain’s magic take effect. Her wing slowly began to knit itself back together. She fluttered them lightly as she remained at the water’s edge. Link’s heart swelled as he watched over them, and the strange scales that speckled his cheeks seemed to glow a soft pink hue. The light traveled beneath his skin to the cut on his cheek, pulling the flesh together until nothing but a small scar remained.

‘ Link ,’ the girl’s voice whispered. Her call was followed by words that Link did not understand, yet they had a weight to them that he couldn’t ignore. Link didn’t know what she was telling him, but he memorized the sounds and their importance. He rose to his feet unbidden and strode to the cliff outside of his cave, gazing out towards the world beyond the Plateau. The world beneath his feet trembled. In the distance, a shadow billowed from a castle as a brilliant light fought to contain it. Link felt the pit forming in his stomach as he watched the scene unfold. He didn’t need to understand the girl’s words to sense the danger emanating from the castle even from the expansive distance between them. He didn’t need to understand to recognize that he had a destiny ahead of him.

Chapter Text

The evening air was cooling fast, until the crackling embers provided more warmth than the lingering Summer heat of the day. The sun had only set an hour ago. The old man poked at the logs beneath his cooking pot with a branch. It was a peaceful, quiet end to his day, until something landed with a gentle thump to his right. The old man’s lips quirked in a small smile and he turned his gaze from his cooking to his little visitor.
The boy’s eyes were not on him, but on the cooking spoon resting in the pot. His fingers picked absently at a loose thread on his already-threadbare shirt, which he had fished from only Hylia would know where weeks ago. His trousers were only in a marginally better condition. The old man reached out to ruffle Link’s hair fondly, disturbing a fairy hidden beside his ear. She chattered at him in offense before finding a new place to hide in the boy’s locks. Link’s eyes flickered up to the old man. An echo of annoyance in his expression gave way to curiosity. The old man took his hand back and began to gesture as he spoke.

“Have you had your fill of adventure for the evening?” He asked, and though Link’s eyes were focused on his face as he spoke, he knew the boy was watching his hands.

It was a fascinating thing, and a blessing, that the boy appeared to recognize the Hylian language of hands. The old man waited as the boy processed his meaning carefully, and then lifted his hands to respond with a silent affirmative. He then gestured to the cooking pot. “Please?”

The old man laughed and turned away from his ward. He could feel rather than see Link stretching to try to look around him as he procured two bowls from his own pouch. The bowls were filled to the brim with rice, and then garnished with slices of cooked meat and salt. The old man had hardly begun to turn back towards Link when the bowl vanished from his hands. He sighed and reached out to rustle the boy’s hair again before focusing on his own meal. Link ignored the touch this time, his face already buried in the rice.

“I had not expected you to be such a glutton, when I first laid eyes on you,” the old man remarked, and Link’s eyes flickered up to him for a moment. His gaze turned back down to his food as the old man continued. “I had not expected a lot of things. You are an unexpectedly strange child.”

He turned his gaze to the stars above, food forgotten. Though it was true that there was more to this boy than meets the eye, he was still only a child. He was easily half the age of any decent warrior, yet this boy had a destiny before him that no one else could possibly fulfill. Opportunistic small hands gently swapped his full bowl for an empty one. The old man lowered his gaze back to Link.

“Do you mind telling me about what you did today?” He asked gently. The little adventurer swallowed loudly and set his bowl down to gesture.

“Found a cliff,” he said, running a hand over and off the other.

“A cliff?” The old man gestured back. “Where was this cliff?”

Link’s nose wrinkled as he thought, and then he pointed out into the distance. His hand swept around, still pointing. He gestured ‘cliff’ again to emphasize his point, and then, “What is below?”

“Death,” the old man’s response was swift. Link blinked. “Do not attempt to scale the walls of this plateau, boy. You do not yet have your wings, nor the strength in your hands to last until you reach the bottom.”

Link considered his words with a frown. He gestured outward again. The old man noticed with dismay that his finger was pointing directly at the malice-enshrouded castle in the far horizon.

“‘Link. You are the light. Our light, that must shine upon Hyrule once again’,” the boy quoted, though it was obvious he was only repeating words he had heard. His hands had never moved to gesture as he spoke. The old man’s heart clenched.

“Is that what she told you?” He asked in a whisper, and the fierce expression on Link’s face faltered. Link lowered his hands, lowered his gaze, and signed as he spoke.

“I hear her,” he said. “What is below?”

“Death,” the old man repeated, though his response this time was quiet and firm. He reached forward to clasp Link’s hands before the boy could argue. “I meant it when I said you would not survive an attempt to reach the ground below on your own. However… I may be willing to loan you my own wings, if you prove yourself worthy.”

Link’s eyes snapped up at his words. The old man knew he was searching for insincerity. The old man met his gaze. Link got to his feet.

“Wings. Please,” he said. The old man sighed.

“I told you that you must prove yourself worthy,” he said. Link grunted in response. “Do not be insolent. I cannot follow you to the ground below if I give you this gift. You must be prepared to face the world alone.”

Chastised, Link lowered his gaze again. The old man took the boy’s hands in his and squeezed them gently.

“You have seen the monstrosity that circles the castle. You have seen the monsters that plague our home here on the Plateau. The world below is far more perilous, and if you wish to journey off of this plateau’s surface you must be prepared to face those dangers head-on.”

Link nodded, his voice lost under the weight of the old man’s warning. The old man clapped a hand over his shoulder and turned back to the fire. Link resumed eating his stolen food, though his consumption was slower now. The night carried on in silence.

In the morning, the old man awoke to the smell of smoke and flame. He got to his feet in an instant and approached the door of his cabin to find Link poking at the charred remains of what appeared to be Hyrule herb and some unknown meat with a stick, while a pair of fairies hovered inquisitively over the mess. The boy had the decency to look guilty at being caught. The old man regarded the scene with a raised brow, before giving in to his amusement and laughing. Link’s cheeks darkened in color.

“What in Hylia’s name are you doing?” He asked, when his laughter subsided.

“Food,” the boy answered. He flipped a charred herb over. The pan spat and hissed and Link startled, dropping the stick.

“And why have you decided to cook this morning?” The old man asked, fetching a pot from the cabin and tossing its contents into the pan. The pan erupted in steam as the water made contact with the hot metal. Link scrambled back, startled again. The old man took his spoon and scraped at the pan while the water boiled to clean it.

“Worthy,” Link finally answered, though he looked sheepish now. The old man’s lips quirked in a sad smile.

“You’re determined to leave this Plateau, aren’t you?” The expression on the boy’s face was all the old man needed for an answer, and he got to his feet with a sigh. “Well, then let’s begin your first lesson. Clean your mess, and I will teach you how to cook.”

The boy was a quick study, with a monstrous appetite. The old man was fairly certain he was tired of the smell of grilling meat and mushrooms, himself. Link, however, abused his new ability to his heart’s content. Throughout the day the old man would spot the boy running to the cooking pot with ingredients in his hands, eager to put together another meal. He cleaned after himself, at least. The old man wondered if he should move the pot away from his cabin. He settled instead for moving himself. Firewood wouldn’t chop itself, after all.
He could feel curious eyes as he got up from his place on the log bench and walked towards the small outcrop of trees growing nearby. He could hear his footsteps being echoed, and the twinkling of fairy chatter echoing that echo. He pretended that he didn’t know Link was watching him while he wrenched his axe from the tree it had last been lodged in and got to work in felling it.
Link made a noise a few minutes later when the tree bowed and collapsed before the old man. He didn’t bother hiding his presence this time, his curiosity winning over. The old man let Link approach him and take the axe, and hid his amusement when the weight of it surprised the boy and he caught both the axe and Link before either could fall.

“Your next lesson,” he said. “You will need to learn how to start a fire on your own. A good fire serves as a place to rest and cook a quick meal. Fire is safety.”

“Safety,” Link repeated. He gripped at the axe tighter under the old man’s hands.

They spent the evening sitting beside Link’s first campfire. Link had drifted off into daydreams watching the flames. His eyes seemed to sparkle. The old man watched him with a weight over his heart. The boy’s companions were still nestled in his hair, silhouetting him in shades of pink and blue. Every so often the air would be filled with their twinkling chatter. The noise didn’t seem to bother Link, who seemed to be responding to them absentmindedly with small hums. He hugged his knees closer to his chest as a chilly breeze swept over their little camp.
Link perked when the old man chuckled suddenly. Two apples were pulled from the old man’s pack and settled among the embers. Link lifted the stick he’d been using to stoke the fire and nudged the apple closest to him further into the flames.

“Those fairies,” the old man finally broke the silence, and Link’s gaze lifted. “They’re not the same fairies I’ve seen you travel with before.”

“New,” Link said. The fairies chimed their affirmative. “Found them today.”

“What happened to the others?” The old man asked, concerned now. He knew what magic the fairies were capable of. But Link did not appear bothered.

“At the Fountain,” Link said. “Sleeping. Eating.”

He reached a hand up to the back of his neck and a small blue fairy drifted out and onto his palm. He brought her forward for the old man to see, and then lowered his hands to gesture. The fairy remained floating where his hands once held her aloft.

“They live in the Fountain,” Link explained. “ I live in the Fountain. Some leave the Fountain with me.”

“If they are so faithful to you, and they want to follow you, that is a sign that you are a great leader,” the old man told him.
Link tilted his head, but didn’t say anything more. The fairy fluttered back into his hair. Link used his stick to nudge the apples out of the fire and let them cool. The stick pierced the flesh of one, and he brought the stick to his mouth to lick at the juice. The old man watched him with a raised brow. The boy smacked his lips with satisfaction.

“Or perhaps you’re just a child they want to protect,” the old man amended. He didn’t get a response. He chuckled. “This land once had a great leader, you know.”

This caught Link’s attention. Link lifted his baked apple and watched the old man as he took a bite, settling in to listen.

“Have I piqued your interest?” the old man asked. He clasped his hands in front of him and turned his gaze to the fire. “Long ago, a young king took to the throne of Hyrule. He was a little naive, but he had spirit and courage. It didn’t take him long to earn the kingdom’s faith. His men were treated like people, an extension of himself. Any problems taken to the king were treated delicately and with respect to the person who had presented it. His armies trained to defend the kingdom, not out of obligation but out of pride for their nation.
“The king led his kingdom alone with little fault for three decades before he met a girl in the library of the castle. She was a Sheikah scientist with a sharp mind and a soft heart. He fell for her instantly, and they were wed within the year. In another year, she blessed the kingdom with a beautiful baby girl. The king’s life was full of happiness, and so the kingdom flourished.”

Link listened, watching the expression on the old man’s face. There was more to the story; there was a sadness in the old man’s eyes that Link couldn’t place. Link got to his feet and moved to sit beside the old man, leaning into him. The old man flinched, first. Then he lifted a hand to rustle Link’s hair. Link wrinkled his nose but did not complain.

“What happened?” Link asked quietly.

“Well, the king’s world ended,” the old man said quietly. “And then, so did the world.”

The old man did not say anything further than that. Link turned his gaze to the fire, unsure of what to say or think. He leaned further into the old man’s bulk, and the hand that was once in Link’s hair rested on his shoulder. Link hummed.

“The fire is safe, young one,” the old man said quietly. “Rest.”

Link closed his eyes.

Link was not sure when, but something had changed in the old man. He was around more often, he thought, than he had been since Link had emerged from the Fountain. He did not keep his distance anymore. Guilt clouded his expression far less frequently. Link didn’t mind the change—the old man was a tireless source of guidance and companionship in the vast world that Link now called Hyrule. He was patient with Link no matter his shortcomings. He showed an interest in Link’s adventures, though Link was sure the old man had seen everything the Great Plateau had to offer, himself.
The girl’s voice was a constant ringing in his ears and Link wondered if she was growing as restless as he was. He wondered if she was what awaited him off the Plateau. There was only one way to find out, but he had yet to prove to the old man that he was worthy of these “wings” the old man offered. He didn’t know how to prove himself. The lessons were growing wearisome at best; Link began to wonder if every small task was as important as the old man made it seem, or if the old man was attempting to delay the inevitable. He hated that the likelihood of the latter grew with every passing day.
It seemed that the old man was aware of Link’s restlessness, too. It came to a head, finally, when Link finally broke and sat in the grass with a huff rather than continue with the “lesson” the old man was giving him. The old man paused, and then with a sigh released the lizard he was teaching Link to catch. They both watched it scurry away and disappear in the far grass in silence; Link with his arms crossed and sporting  a stony expression, and the old man with quiet resignation. Even when the lizard was no longer in their sights, the old man continued to stare out into the distance.

“You want to leave,” the old man finally said.

“Yes,” Link answered.

There was more silence, and then a metallic scraping and clank as the old man reclaimed his cane and lantern from the tree they rested against. He turned to face Link, and then—

“There is a sword behind the freezing waterfalls of the River of the Dead. Bring me that sword, and we will begin your final lesson.”

Chapter Text

Link's breath fogged in front of his face as he exhaled. His skin was prickled with gooseflesh and glowed a healthy pink. The world at his feet was covered in ice. In spite of this, Link's body felt almost feverish to the touch as he tread through the snow. The old man's "lessons" had some merit, after all--Link would not have thought to cook down peppers of all things to combat the effects of the freezing cold on his own. There was a ringing of bells ahead and Link's attention snapped forward. It was an alarm, a plea to focus coming from his only companion of the day. Blue chattered at him, spiraling in the air at the crest of a hill. Behind her, a pillar of smoke climbed lazily to the heavens. As Link continued forward, the smell of bokoblin grew headier. He wrinkled his nose and carefully unsheathed the rusted sword from his back.

Blue hid in the collar of his shirt as Link charged forward with a yell. The shock of a boy charging forward kept the bokoblins from reacting straightaway. Link used that opening to strike one of the three, sending it flying backwards into a red barrel. The others' minds finally processed what had just occurred and the enraged screams of monsters filled the air. Link lowered into a defensive stance. One bokoblin had a bow and was already taking aim over the flame. The other wielded a shoddy club. Link leapt out of the way as a flaming arrow sailed in his direction. It made a foreboding hissing noise as the ice it had struck extinguished the flame. He rolled out of the way as the second bokoblin swung at his head. Link's foot hit a barrel and Blue chimed again in concern. With a shout, Link grabbed the barrel with both hands and chucked it hard in the direction of the boko archer. The barrel landed in the flame.

There was an anxiety-filled pause that could have lasted only a second, where Link was afraid the barrel was a dud. His fears were laid to rest as a telltale pop of burning wood warned him to get down. Link ducked as the boko club swung for his head again. It grazed his temple and Link felt his body fly backwards from the force of it as the barrel finally erupted in a cloud of flame and debris. Hot air hit his face like a blow from a fist as Link rolled a ways down the hill. The bokoblins screamed and turned to dust as they hit the stone walls behind them. The battle was won, yet Link felt nothing but exhaustion already. His head throbbed from where the boko club had met its mark. Blue emerged from her hiding place voicing her concerns, which fell on deaf ears as Link remained lying in the snow in a daze. The little fairy inspected his injury and kissed it, watching as his flesh knit together. Link shivered as the snow beneath him began to soak into his threadbare shirt. The peppers would wear off soon, and he was still nowhere near his goal. He had lost precious time.

Blue remained outside her hiding place as Link trudged forward again. He paused only to collect the shards of monster that remained--teeth, horns, and a single lump of flesh that bizarrely continued to pulse in his hand--and the boko club. The sword he had carried would cause more damage, but it was ultimately too heavy to be worth keeping. Link looked up at the small rock wall he would have to climb. He definitely needed to be conservative with his equipment. Link approached the wall and hoisted himself up, testing his footing. It seemed like an easy climb. Blue continued floating ahead, following whatever path appeared to suit her. It didn't seem as though she was headed in the wrong direction. Link was content to follow her.

He was surprised to find not only bokoblins had made their homes on the frozen wasteland of Mount Hylia, but white, ice-fleshed monsters that appeared almost identical to the plain monsters he was used to seeing. Those he avoided fighting. His hand still tingled from his first encounter with a frozen Chuchu, which had exploded upon impact and cursed him with a nasty frostbite. He had roughly shoved the remains of that particular monster in his pack with a vengeful glee. Ahead, his fairy companion curiously floated at the base of a strange, spiraling hill. Link's eyes followed the rock upwards until they landed on a dark, startlingly familiar silhouette. The boy pursed his lips and raced his way up the rock formation to meet the old man on his perch.

The old man met him with a hearty laugh. Link met him with a deadpan stare. Behind the old man was a strange stone structure that unsettled Link to look at. The old man caught him looking and sighed.

“This is my favorite place on the Plateau,” he said. “The view from here is spectacular. I’m impressed you’ve made it here without needing to bundle up.”

Link pursed his lips again. His hands and feet were beginning to ache and tremble with the chill. The roasted peppers he had consumed minutes before were losing their effect fast, and Link had not yet found his treasure. He was likely the farthest from his goal that he could possibly be. The old man reached into his cloak and withdrew something bulky and blue. The color caught Link’s attention.

“Take this. It will aid you indefinitely in this cold,” the old man told him. Link tentatively took the fabric in his hands.

It was soft and surprisingly just as cold as the snow beneath his feet. It was heavy, too, he surmised as he pulled the doublet over his head. The weight and softness granted him immediate comfort. Link let out a shuddering breath and lifted his hand to gesture his gratitude. The old man placed a hand on his shoulder and let it rest there. When Link looked up, he found comfort in the old man’s gaze.

‘ Link …’ the girl in his head whispered.

Link startled, suddenly reminded of his task. His eyes flickered over to the stone structure again and his stomach churned. Link squirmed his way out of the old man’s grasp.

“You have a ways to go,” the old man simply said, and Link turned and scrambled his way off the rock formation they stood upon… far away from the odd stone that unsettled him so. When he turned again to look up at the old man--perhaps to wave goodbye before he continued along his way--the old man was gone. Something dark clenched at Link’s heart, then, and he turned again and ran away.

The doublet kept him warm even as the feverish heat of the peppers eventually wore off. Link’s gratitude was somewhat begrudging--this trial was his chance to prove himself capable of surviving on his own, yet he still needed the old man holding his hand for even the most basic of tasks. Link expressed his frustration with the situation by throwing his rusted sword at an ice Keese that fluttered far too close for his liking. It shattered nicely as the Keese squeaked and disappeared in a puff of purple and blue smoke. Blue chided him for his recklessness from the warmth of her new hiding place in his doublet.

Link picked up the icy wing that the Keese had left behind, and watched in bemusement as its remaining eyeball rolled down a steep hill. He followed it down until he was at the hill’s base. The little fairy jingled as he bent to pick up the eye and Link lifted his gaze to the road ahead. Somehow, he had made it to the other side of the river. Ahead of him was a path that led to the waterfall. Link adjusted his pack and started forward.

Anxiety gnawed at Link’s heart and lungs as he continued his venture, even when no monsters appeared. Ice water splashed his clothes and bit at his bare skin as he followed the path behind the waterfall. Ahead there lay glittering treasure chests and, as the old man had said, a gleaming broadsword. Link tentatively rested his hands on the sword’s hilt as if expecting a grand revelation of sorts. When one did not come, he drew it from its mockery of a pedestal and clipped it to his back.

The chests were frozen shut and required a good kick to open. Inside each were bundles of arrows. The blue arrowheads were impossibly colder than all of Mount Hylia. The red arrows were burning hot in his hands, even when he held their arrowheads as far from his body as possible. A spiked bow lay discarded beside the chests and Link took that, too--he was certain he was not as proficient with a bow as he was with melee weapons, but it would be a worthy skill to learn. He shoved the arrows in his pack and prayed they wouldn’t damage the goods he’d collected in his adventure. He was already running out of room in the bag.

The trek back to his fountain was a dull one. Link had fought off the monsters that hindered his path, and any remaining beasts that attempted to ambush him now were lesser monsters like Chuchus and Keese. Those were easily avoided. Though Link had a feeling the sword at his back would have easily dispatched them without breaking, he did not want to wear its durability on such small foes. He wasn’t about to test his marksmanship with the ten arrows he had, either. It took him far less time getting back to the safety and warmth off Mount Hylia than it had to get himself lost on it. Link was still trembling from the leftover chill as he dove into the waters of his fountain--doublet, sword, and all. He could wait to meet with the old man—the discomfort he had felt before still lingered in the back of his mind. He let his body absorb the warmth of the flower’s nectar. His hand no longer tingled from the frost.

Link awoke the next morning with the weight of his new sword holding him to the fountain’s floor. He carried it with him to the surface and set it atop the giant mushroom. Here he paused. The sword reflected the morning light from the entrance of the cave back to him, yet he hesitated to leave the water. Anxiety gnawed at him on the inside. He had to show the old man the sword and prove himself worthy to leave. The girl’s voice still rang in his very soul, beckoning him to continue forward. Link remained in the water.

It was eventually the gnawing ache of hunger in his stomach that won over his anxiety. A couple fairies tittered as it growled while Link hoisted himself out of the water. The doublet he wore was soaked with nectar and made movement outside the fountain difficult, so Link removed it in favor of his threadbare shirt. He laid it gently atop the mushroom to dry and buckled his sword to his back. He took up his new bow and arrows from where they had previously been discarded and slung them over his shoulder as well. He was ready… at least in theory. Link stared at the mouth of the cave with his lip between his teeth.

When a pink fairy began to follow him out, Link held out a hand to tell her to stay. She complied, falling back to the fountain with her sisters. Link spared the fountain one last glance before stepping out of the safety of his cave. The old man was not at the base of the hill as he usually was. The anxiety that swirled in his stomach receded slightly, yet he knew before he even had to look that the embers of the fire were still glowing hot. Link adjusted the weight of his weapons and continued moving forward.

The lack of monsters throughout his journey to the old man’s cabin was unusual and disconcerting enough to have his fingers twitching up to his sword. He was certain he hadn’t cleared the path so thoroughly before today. The boko camp was barren and not even a stray keese stirred as Link drew close. He looted the chest hidden inside the massive skull cave and emerged with a handful of plain arrows.

There was a crunching sound of gravel under heavy footfalls to Link’s right. His ear twitched in the brief moment between the still and the action; In a flash Link’s sword was drawn and raised to deflect the incoming blow. Steel met steel and Link cried out under the weight of his opponent’s attack. The old man’s eyes were emotionless as he withdrew and raised his weapon again. Link dove out of the way. There was a wooden shield resting against a boko watchtower. Link deflected another swipe of the old man’s sword and took off in a mad dash for the tower. He could hear the heavy footfalls of the old man advancing behind him. His breath caught in his throat and he turned just in time to shield his body from the blade.

“ Why ?!” came his cry, and the old man raised his sword again.

Link’s heartbeat sped impossibly quickly, and he swung his shield back as the old man’s sword made impact with the wood. The contact point sparked. For the briefest of moments, Link felt the world trickle to a slow crawl. The moment didn’t last, however, and the old man was suddenly stumbling backward from the force of Link’s parry. Link took the opportunity to run away.

Tears burned in the corner of his eyes as he struggled to maintain his breath while he ran. Surely it was just a monster that had attacked him, and not the old man. It was a trick of the light. Surely. It had to have been-! The old man appeared as Link crested the hill. Link faltered, and the old man attacked.

He was not so fortunate this time, and the man’s attack sliced his upper arm. Link hissed as red bloomed on the sleeve of his shirt. He lifted his shield to deflect another hit. His arm burned from the effort. He screamed and parried again. The old man stumbled back, and he swung his sword. The blade buried itself in wood, and Link looked up. There was something in the old man’s eyes, then, as the old man deflected his attack with a shield of his own.

“Good, Link!” the old man roared. Link felt warmth return to his body. This time, when Link swung his sword again, it was with courage.

The pain in his arm faded with every utterance of praise and approval the old man gave. Link hardly remembered the pain by the time his injury had healed. He was growing weary, however, and the old man showed no sign of fatigue.

Link’s sword finally shattered as the sun rose directly above their heads. Left with no other option, he parried another attack and retreated, withdrawing his bow. He cursed his lack of practice and prayed that his aim was true.

His first arrow landed just short of the old man’s feet. The old man disregarded the projectile as he stalked forward. Link took aim and shot again. This time the arrow struck the old man’s heavy cloak, pinning it to the ground. The old man grunted as he was forced back, and he lifted a gloved hand to undo the clasp at his breast.

The cloak fell, and with it the facade of a hermit. Link’s breath hitched as old rags vanished and the old man’s face changed subtly from that of a dusty, dirty wrinkled face to the groomed and proud features of a--

The ghost of a king advanced, and never before had a damaged and dull sword looked so ill fitting in a man’s hand. Link leapt out of the way again as the sword fell over where his head should have been.

The world again froze solid around Link. He charged forward, moving impossibly quickly in space and time, and slashed at the old man’s shield with his sword in a flurry of movement. When the world finally caught up with Link, the old man stumbled backwards from the force of a dozen blows hitting his shield at once. His arm swept across as he stumbled, however, and Link leapt backward to dodge.

As Link’s body lithely tumbled in the air, the world ground to a halt yet again. This time, Link drew his bow and took aim.

If Link were to look back at this moment, he would remember the foreign feeling of feathers ghosting along his arms as he drew the string taut. He would remember imagining large, firm hands adjusting his position, and a rush of feeling that he could only describe as his very soul shouting at him, ‘ NOW! ’ Link released arrow after arrow in rapid succession, as quickly as he could. His vision grew hazy along the edges as he fired his tenth arrow, and reached into his pack for one of the strange ones he had found before.

For half a second, Link watched as the world resumed its speed and progression as normal, yet he remained suspended in the air.

‘ Link ,’ the girl whispered as Link fired one last ice arrow and the strings allowing him to defy gravity were cut. He was already unconscious as his body crumpled to the ground.

Link awoke with a start in the nectar of his fountain. There was no sunlight illuminating the surface of the water as he swam upward. Fairies gathered around him as he emerged, chattering all at once. They were clearly worried about him, and he could only imagine the state he had been in when he was placed back in the safety of the fountain. He pulled himself out of the water and padded his way to the mouth of the cave.

The night sky was filled with glittering stars and a radiant moon, yet the light that caught his attention came from the ruined temple a distance away. The belltower appeared alight with flame--wisps of green flickered from the shattered windows and a figure stood in the shadow. Link felt his stomach flip. He knew who it was that waited for him at the temple. He left his weapons behind and made the slow, solitary trek to meet with the old man.

As he drew closer, he could make out the sparkle of a crown and the royal blue of a grand coat illuminated by the moonlight and ghostly wisps. He slowly climbed the ladder to the roof without ever turning his gaze from the figure. The old man watched him in melancholic silence even as Link drew close, until they were only within arm’s distance away.

“Well done, my son,” the King gestured as he spoke, and the familiarity of it pulled at Link’s heart. “The time has come for me to explain who I truly am. I was King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. I was the last leader of Hyrule.... A kingdom which no longer exists.”

The specter inclined his head towards the swirling mass of darkness and evil that ate at the castle in the distance. Link tore his gaze from the king to the castle, and back to the king.

“The Great Calamity was merciless,” he continued. “It devastated everything in its path, lo, a century ago. It was then… that my life was taken away from me. And since that time I have remained here in spirit form.”

“You lied to me,” Link said, and his hands trembled with every sign. The king sighed. “Why?”

“It was uncertain if your memory would survive, when you were placed in your fountain. If you remembered me, your memory of me would have been… unsavory, at best. If you did not… your memory would be fragile. I did not think it best to overwhelm you, so rather than that I thought it best to assume a temporary form,” he explained. He turned to Link with a sad smile. “Forgive me.”

“I think you are now ready to hear what happened one hundred years ago,” he continued.

And so the king spoke, weaving the history of Hyrule before the Calamity. Link listened as the king described the great metal beasts and their pilots--Champions, he had called them, and the name sent a thrill through the boy. Four skilled fighters to control the beasts and a boy unlike any other… and who wielded a legendary sword of evil’s bane. The old man had leveled him with a look, one that spoke volumes without the need for words. Link knew that the king was referring to him.

“Their commander was a princess who carried a power dormant within her,” the king said. “With her power and guidance the five Champions were to keep Calamity Ganon at bay until she could seal it away for good. Yet Ganon was cunning. As the Champions were at the brink of sealing him away, he responded with a plan beyond our imagining. He appeared from below Hyrule Castle and quickly seized control of our mechanical Guardians… and the Divine Beasts. He turned them against us. The pilots lost their lives and the boy collapsed while defending the princess. However, the princess survived… to face Ganon alone.”

“That princess was none other than my own daughter. My dear Zelda,” the king said quietly. Then, with strength in his tone, he continued, “And the boy at her side, who fought valiantly until his fate took an unfortunate turn… was you, Link.”

Though Link had expected as much, the king’s words still laid a heavy weight over his heart. He could feel a tingling, a quiet murmur that he could only equate to the girl--Zelda--in his head.

Rhoam’s hand rested gently on Link’s shoulder, startling him from his thoughts. There was regret in the old man’s expression, and hope. Link put a hand atop his.

“You do not remember me,” the king reiterated. “And after I could not save my own kingdom… after all that I have asked of you before, that led to your fall… I have no right to ask this of you, Link. But I am powerless here. You must save her. My daughter.”

“Zelda,” Link said, and his hands lifted in a sign that he did not fully understand.

“Yes. And do whatever it takes to annihilate Ganon,” the king declared. He turned again, this time facing the east. He pointed to a pair of mountains. “But you mustn’t challenge Ganon yet, not while your power still has yet to grow. Follow the road through the Dueling Peaks. From there the road north will take you to Kakariko. There you will hopefully find a familiar face. She will help you invariably more than I can in your journey. Now, as promised…”

The king withdrew from within his cloak something oddly-shaped, made of wood and cloth. It was surprisingly light when he set it in Link’s arms. Link inspected it cautiously.

“...my wings,” the king said. “This paraglider will not grant you never-ending flight, but they will prove useful to you while your wings grow in. With these you will be able to reach the ground safely at the base of the Plateau and let the wind carry you to your destination. You have proven yourself worthy, son. Go… and save Hyrule.”

As he uttered those last words, his body began to fade. Link startled, watching with horror as the old man--his mentor--disappeared with a wistful smile. Soon all that remained were the wisps of green flame, which also faded. Link’s grip on the paraglider tightened painfully. Within moments he was all alone in the temple.

The fairies greeted Link as he returned, and then chattered with worry as he gathered his weapons and the doublet in silence. He held them close to his face in a gentle sign of affection and reassurance.

“Stay,” he told them. “This is home. Safe.”

Blue was the only fairy that disregarded his command and followed Link to the edge of the Plateau. When he again told her to return to the fountain, she made a sound that could only be the equivalent of a fairy raspberry and ducked into his hair, clinging tight to the strands. Link sighed and opened the paraglider in his hands before leaping over the edge.

The sensation of flight was familiar and foreign. Link felt as though something was different as he drifted to the earth below. He was too numb to truly dwell on the thought, however, so when his feet finally touched the ground he buried his thoughts and took stock of his surroundings. The world ran wild beyond his sight and there were no signs of life beyond a dense swarm of keese in the distance. At his feet appeared to be rubble from the crumbling walls behind him. Link kicked away an ancient piece of brick and finally turned to look up at the life he had just left behind.

He didn’t know why he expected to see the old man peering down at him from above. The absence of a watchful eye constricted his chest and made his heart ache. It was the first time since he had awoken in his Fountain that Link had ever felt alone. He knew he should head to Kakariko, whatever that was. Link had fought hard to leave the isolation of the Plateau and move forward with his destiny. Yet Link only pulled some thin cuts of wood from his pack and flint and lit himself a fire before huddling as close to the wall as he could.

His destiny could be forgotten for an evening. Link fell asleep hiccuping from his tears.