Chapter Text
The first thing Link did on Eventide Island was sit down, put his head against his knees, and keen. It was too much, too suddenly, and later he wouldn’t even remember most of his first hour there.
He had just regained confidence in himself, and the realization that Korgu Chideh had ripped away everything he’d regained was gut-wrenching, nauseating, viscerally terrifying. Link yanked on his hair and hyperventilated and rocked on the beach, made himself bleed trying to claw the horror off of his skin, and proved himself generally unfit for any sort of trial. He was inconsolable.
And not a word of comfort the entire time, because unlike when he’d first woken, his friends weren’t even here; Korgu Chideh must have barred them.
Link screamed into his arm, cheeks wet.
It took a while for Link to snap out of it. When the world came back into focus, he was by a fire, two roughly beaten bokoblin floating away into the sea. There were two metal crates nearby, the fire was lit, and Link’s body was aching in a way that meant rain.
Link stayed there for a few minutes longer, feeling heavy and exhausted already.
What did he need to do? Goddess, what had he done when he’d first woken up? He pressed his forehead against his knees again, breath catching on a sob.
My mother Hylia, goddess of the triforce, I miss the safety of your heart...
He took a breath.
Food. He’d gotten food first. Then weapons. He’d- he’d marked his objectives. And then, after all that, he’d started working.
Link stood up, wiped his eyes, and got to work.
The metal crates were full of food, palm fruit and apples and hydromelons. He roasted most of those in or by the fire, then picked up the boko spears the bokoblin had dropped. Then he started scouting the area, making a slow circle around the shore and moving inward, until he’d developed a mental map of the area.
There was plenty more food on the densely forested island, bananas and radishes and truffles, and a couple of monster camps, the largest of which was on the bluff in the southeast. There was one hinox, an enormous black beast, which had one of the orbs around its neck. The other two orbs were both in camps, the large southeast one and the smaller camp in the center. One pedestal was out on the sea, the other two both in the camps.
It started to rain just before Link finished scouting, and his torso started to pound unpleasantly. He found a place on the beach, ducked under the limited cover, and waited the storm out, dozing.
The memory of the early days of his journey scratched viciously at his neck and shoulders. The splintering weapons, the echo of his lost memories, the pain- for Hylia’s sake, he’d just gotten used to having access to painkillers. He didn’t want to go back to Faron, where the persistent rain had driven him to aggravated distraction and fits of temper.
My mother Hylia, goddess of the triforce, I miss the safety of your heart...
He took a breath.
This was a trial. The monk had designed it with him in mind, to challenge him. To bring him to his limit and hold him there. It... it wasn’t any different from Toh Yahsa’s trial of thunder. Not every trial was fun.
If he could do it once, he could do it again. He’d learned a lot since he’d woken. He’d- he knew he could do it, if he tried.
Link waited until the rain petered out, and then made another circle around the island. Thrown tree branches and boko spears made good weapons against the octoroks. There were fifteen arrows hidden in chests around the island, and a few decent swords, though nothing like the royal or lizal weapons he only now realized he’d grown used to.
Then he went after the hinox.
A red or a blue hinox, he might have been able to defeat in his current state. They didn’t have nearly the constitution a black hinox did, and they didn’t hit as hard. As it was, though, he had no armor, relatively flimsy weapons, no fairies, and very little healing food.
He crept to the edge of the forested central bluff, looked down at the hinox below, and took his glider from his slate. As quietly as he could, he jumped off, landed lightly on the hinox’s broad stomach, and stuffed the glider back into his slate.
Then, working quickly as the beast began to stir, he unhooked the orb from its chains and rolled it down the slope, took the dragonbone club and the boko bow from its necklace, and bolted away before it could finish getting to its feet.
He checked his map for the closest pedestal and carried the Sheikah orb toward it, tense with concentration. It was lighter than the Thundra Plateau orbs had been – light enough to float, he was almost certain.
There were electric chu to worry about on the path up the hill, and more in the camp at the top. A couple of bokoblin, including a black this time. But he had arrows and a bow now, metal crates to use as bludgeons, and the soldier’s broadsword he’d retrieved from a chest.
He took a few hits, but nothing that did more than knock him down; the dragonbone club didn’t even break in the process, which he’d been worried about. He was left bruised and bleeding in a couple of places, but he got the reward of some new food, some new weapons, and the cooking pot in the middle of the camp. He sat down next to it and got right to work, tossing things in.
...He’d expected this to be harder.
Link wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling beginning to creep over him – somewhere between confusion, and relief, and something very close to hope. Because he’d lost everything he’d picked up over the last few months, but... he hadn’t been reset, not really.
He didn’t have armor, but he had all of the stamina and resilience he’d been gifted by the monks. He didn’t have weapons, but he knew how to get them. He didn’t have ralis root, but he had the weeks of careful stretching and working salve into his scars, and the months of learning how to pace himself. He had confidence and conviction that it had taken him months to unbury, the sort of strength you didn’t have until you knew who you were.
He’d grown in a very tangible way, since he’d woken up. He’d known that, but he hadn’t really known it. It had been so gradual.
The trial wasn’t over yet, but a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
The second Link walked out of Korgu Shideh’s shrine, his friends were there, swarming him. He could have cried from relief. (He wished he could hug them and not let go for hours.)
He sat down hard and laughed instead of answering the flood of mingled babble, hiding his relieved grin behind his wrist, and waited until they’d stopped talking before he even tried to say anything. But finally, he looked up. Looked at Mipha kneeling in front of him, and Daruk at the back of the group, Urbosa on one knee and Revali scowling at him like a puzzle.
That sucked, he announced at last, and slumped back against the key pedestal, feeling the skin around his stomach and knees pull taut and protest. He ached all over, because of course he did.
What happened? Mipha asked him, forehead pinched with worry. It was a trial, but we’ve never been forcibly barred from one of those before. And it’s been days. We were worried.
Had it really? Goddess, it had – he’d refreshed his weapons with stalfos twice, so at least two days had passed.
It’s complicated. My body hurts. He rubbed his shoulder for a couple of minutes, trying to sort the task into something easy to explain. The monk stripped me of my supplies and sent me to bring a few Sheikah orbs to their pedestals. Two were in monster camps. One was around a hinox’s neck. He considered. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. But it sucked. I want to go home.
You seem exhausted, Mipha said sympathetically. I did look while you were busy. I think the tincture is done brewing, if you want to try.
Link nodded fervently, and with a few clumsy taps, he sent himself to Hateno.
“I know these trials are always complicated, but this one was a bridge too far,” Revali said unexpectedly, his expression darkened with anger. “You fell into an episode as soon as you realized what was happening, didn’t you?”
...Am I that predictable? Link asked weakly. The worst part had been right after Korgu Chideh explained, obviously, but the brain fog and skittishness hadn’t cleared up until he’d gotten his things back.
Not even then, really. He still felt jumpy.
“You were thrown into a situation akin to the one that you have just spent months recovering from,” Revali snapped. “Obviously you had an episode.”
It was comforting that Revali knew him so well.
I’m okay, Link said instead. Really. I... it was hard, but I think. It helped. To be able to see how far I’ve come even outside of everything I’ve gathered. He rubbed his cheek for a moment, feeling worn, and then added, After I’ve rested, I’m going to go back to the Lost Woods.
Most of his friends broke out into smiles, but Urbosa’s was widest of all.
“Very good,” she all but purred, her eyes bright with anticipation. Link almost laughed.
He pushed open the door to his home, pleased to see it furnished with everything he’d asked of Bolson. It was still empty in a lot of ways, nothing to make it a home yet, but he made a mental note to ask Bolson about that another time. For now, he went straight to the corner under the stairs, picked up one of the jars, and held it up to the light.
The brown liquid gleamed purple. Link sighed in relief.
He didn’t have a dropper, so with Mipha’s guidance, he took two modest spoonfuls instead. He set the bottle back down, climbed the stairs, and sat on the bed, leaning against the wall to look out the window. There was a faint throb across most of his body – not much worse than usual, nothing like it had been after Thundra, but Goddess, Link wanted to rest; the battlesickness made his nerves feel more raw and worn thin than usual.
Quicksey or no quicksey, it still took a while to kick in, and Link used the time to eat some of the egg rice and glazed carrots from his slate, picking away at them steadily. He was glad, at least, that food hadn’t been an issue on the island.
What did you do while I was gone? he asked impulsively.
“Time can pass in a blink if we want it to,” Urbosa said, almost dismissive. “But I did check on Gerudo Town. Riju’s doing well.”
“Yunobo’s been practicing his sign,” Daruk said with a small, proud grin. “Think he wants to be better at it when next you meet.”
“And Sidon has been keeping himself quite busy,” Mipha said, eyes warm. “But we really were worried, Link. It’s a relief to be back with you.”
Link gave her a pleased smile, and then put his empty bowl away, halfheartedly participating in conversation. He didn’t want to talk about the trial yet, but he was thinking about the house now, and how he should visit Bolson before he left, and-
When the lavender finally kicked in, it kicked in hard. The sleepiness hit first, his eyelids dragged down as if by weights, and then the relief. And it was such a relief.
It was almost like his inner self had been wrapped in a thick blanket, shielded from the storm of his body. The pain seemed to recede all at once, and for the first time that he could remember – aside, perhaps, from when Sidon had given him the minish seed – Link’s body didn’t hurt at all. It felt soft, and comfortable, and all his own. He yawned and dropped down to sprawl lazily across the bed, and nothing pulled or strained.
He nuzzled into the crook of his arm and sighed in pleasure.
Daruk chuckled. “I think that’s a positive review,” he said to Mipha, who giggled softly.
“I might have guided him a little high,” she admitted bashfully. “But he seemed so tired. You know he’s spent when he starts to speak so curtly.” Then, “Link, sweetheart, if you get under the covers you can nap for a while.”
Link hummed and wiggled around a little, twisting to push the covers down and then tug them across his body. He blinked sleepily at his friends, not quite asleep but definitely checked out, and then let his eyes fall shut to just listen.
“Congratulations, your boyfriend is high as a kite,” Revali said. Mipha giggled again.
“It looks like the tincture brewed perfectly,” she agreed. “I’m... rather glad, to be honest. It’s not good for someone to be under so much stress.” Pause. “Urbosa?”
“...I realize I’ve rather lost my right to speak on this,” Urbosa said quietly. “But it’s important to remember that no one can afford to encourage Link to baby himself too much.”
“Urbosa, so help me-!” Mipha hissed, not quite quiet enough to hide her frustration. Link stirred a little, considering pushing himself up to watch, and then let the thought go when all of them fell quiet.
“I’m not saying he hasn’t earned this,” Urbosa said at last, a touch sharply. “Only that the weight of the world is, quite naturally, more than one person ought to be given to bear. But that is the situation as it stands. And persuading him not to take it will not serve anyone.”
It was a few long seconds before Mipha replied.
“I know,” she admitted at last, tight and unhappy. “But- I’m sorry, Urbosa, I just don’t want him to. I’m so afraid that it’s going to hurt him again.”
“I know,” Urbosa echoed softly. “I’m sorry, too.”
That dose was a little high for me, Link admitted, and gave Mipha a small smile when she looked guilty. No, it was nice to have a break. But I think we can find a good medium between ‘still sore’ and ‘all but asleep.’ I don’t want to pass out for two-thirds of a day every time I have an episode.
“Every time you have an episode?” Revali questioned, frowning at him. Link nodded.
I think that’s when this would be most useful, he explained, though he couldn’t help the heat coming to his cheeks despite his blithe words. Battlesickness and pain are... really a lot to deal with together. I don’t have space in my head for that. If I can settle the pain for a while, I think the anxiety will be easier to cope with too.
“Very smart,” Urbosa agreed quietly. “It’s certainly worth a try.”
Link relaxed a little, and then took out his slate, opened his map, and stared at it for a minute. He took a deep breath, butterflies shivering in his stomach. Then he tapped Keo Ruug’s shrine, and let the travel gate take him.
An arching fallen tree blocked the sword pedestal from his sight, and he glanced around, looking at the forest around him. The mist drifting around the edges of Korok Forest, leading into the Lost Woods, and the Deku Tree towering above. The Koroks scurrying around, chattering and squealing. Frogs and crickets and little rustling animals. He lowered his gaze, and with a slight feeling of surreality, he started toward the pedestal, resting patiently under the thin rays of sunlight.
The rest of the world seemed to fall away as he walked toward it, step by step. The sounds of playing Koroks faded into the background. So did the rustling of leaves in the wind. Even the colors of the forest fizzled into so much static.
"You can do it, Link," Mipha murmured.
Link stepped up onto the stone platform, then to his sword. He set his hands loosely around the hilt, and took one more deep breath.
I'm ready, he reminded himself.
Link tightened his grip, closed his eyes, and pulled.
His sword pulled on the deepest parts of him, like an anchor around his soul. She loosened only grudgingly from her place in the stone. Testing him. Testing his resolve.
Breath. He didn’t yank. Physical strength was not what she asked of him. Instead, he focused all of himself on staying steady, coaxing her out of the pedestal.
She slipped. He clenched his jaw, blocking out everything outside of himself and his sword. He was almost there. She was his. His sword since time immemorial.
Breath.
Then, all at once, the resistance disappeared, and his sword slid free from the pedestal effortlessly. His eyes popped open, and he marveled at the length of her, his heart soaring in undiluted joy. On impulse, he lifted her over his head and watched the light gleam off of her, and through the hilt, he could feel her joy, too.
She flashed, and images passed behind his eyes.
(Link saw-)
(Zelda, setting his sword down across the pedestal, and promising her that Link would return for her. The Deku Tree asked what Zelda would do, and she did not answer.)
(She asked the Deku Tree to deliver a message to Link, and he refused gently. Zelda would tell Link, eventually.)
I, too, always knew that you would come, Link’s sword whispered to him, almost before the images had cleared away. He lowered his sword again and looked at her, feeling warm and pleased all through, and didn’t look up again until the Deku Tree spoke.
“What you saw happened here a hundred years ago,” the tree rumbled, slow and solemn. “Even now, Princess Zelda awaits you in the castle, fighting for her life and the lives of all who dwell in Hyrule. Her heart overflows with faith that you will come for her. It has been so long already, hero. I miss her smile, her warmth.”
Link’s smile faded, and he nodded once. Soon. As soon as he could.
“That sword,” the tree continued, “has been the partner to your soul for many millennia now, and she will serve you loyally as she always has. But do not depend on her too heavily. Her power is not infinite, and like you yourself, it will be exhausted if she is used too much. She, too, needs her rest.”
Link nodded again, tightening his grip on his sword, oddly possessive.
“That said...” Link tilted his head. The Deku Tree’s mouth curved into a smile. “Her power is not at its full potential. She fears that she will hurt you, and you have more trials yet to strengthen your soul and prove that you are worthy of her. Would you like to undergo these trials, young hero?” Link straightened up and nodded firmly. “Then place your sword back inside the pedestal, and she will take you inside of herself.”
Link took one more breath, and without even looking back at his friends, he placed his sword into her pedestal and pushed.
“Link.”
He opened his eyes. He was in a room now – it resembled a Sheikah room, but there was a small copse inside, with some bokoblin not far away. All of them were frozen, suspended in time.
In front of him was the spirit of his sword. Though his eyes did not recognize her, he knew her in his heart. The carved marble of her expression, her fluttering cloak, the purple and the indigo. The spirit of the Master Sword, with a soft look on her face that was for him alone.
“You’ve come far to meet me here, master,” she said, quiet and oddly chiming, like a melody danced behind her voice. “You’ve gained much strength and more wisdom. Your courage is a credit to all that come before you.” Link glowed with an odd mixture of pride and relief, and she gave him a very small smile. “I have a trial of the soul for you, in three parts. Each will grant you more power than the last. I understand that you may not be ready for them all now. That does not matter, Master Link. They will still be here when you are ready.”
Link took a deep breath, straightened up, and nodded firmly. The spirit chimed something like soft laughter.
“My master,” she said tenderly, and then, “This trial is made for this lifetime alone. It is optimized to your skillset and your physical abilities. Nothing outside of your potential will be asked of you, but it will bring you to the limit of your power, wisdom, and courage.” She nodded at the camp. “You will pass from room to room, defeating the monsters in each area before moving on to the next. You will have only those supplies that you find here. When you reach the end, I will be waiting.” She transferred her gaze back to him. “Are you ready, master?”
Link nodded.
He spent the rest of the day at that pedestal. He cleared the first set of trials, and then the second, but the third refused to give way. Again and again, Link pushed his sword back into the pedestal, only to jerk back and stumble away a few minutes later. By the end of the day, his hands were trembling, but he was determined to earn the whole of his sword’s power back.
Eventually, though, Mipha stepped forward, moving to stand across from him, leaving the sword between them. Her ghostly hand reached up to cup one of his, passed through a little, and then lingered there anyway.
“That’s enough, sweetheart,” she said quietly. “You’ve done so well today, but you need to rest now.”
Link took a deep breath, nodded, and with a flourish, sheathed his sword in the holster he knew was there without even looking. Then, stumbling a little with his exhaustion, he headed toward the Deku Tree and the inn inside; he didn’t even really want to go from the Hateno shrine to his home.
He sat cross-legged on his borrowed bed and set his sword across his lap, caressing the length with his fingertips.
“You’ve got it back at last,” Revali said. “This is the beginning of the end.”
Link nodded without looking up, but after a moment let go to reply. I’ll need to gather parts for ancient weapons to get into the castle. It’ll be good practice anyway. I... still need to become less sensitive to them.
“You’ll get there, little buddy,” Daruk encouraged. “You said yourself that you could feel it in your heart.”
Link let himself smile. Yeah.
His sword chimed, and without thinking, he set his fingers on the blade again, heartbeat picking up a little in anticipation.
I can sense that you have healed well since last we met, Master Link, she murmured to him. I am... pleased to see that it is so. Pause. Master. I am sorry that my power was not enough to protect you from your devastating injuries.
Link softened, fingers running down the edge. A swordsman was only as good as his sword. A sword was only as good as her swordsman. If there was nothing they could do together, then there was nothing that could be done at all.
Well put, Master, his sword murmured, a flicker of sad amusement in her tone. You know already that your quest will bring you before the Calamity a second time. Are you prepared for such an eventuality?
The steady stroke of Link’s fingers faltered. Instead of sharpening, the spirit’s voice softened.
It will take all of your courage, Master Link. But I want you to know: I will be with you all the way.
The corner of Link’s mouth tipped up, some of the tension falling away from his body. I know.