Chapter Text
Link holds his hands like a visor above his eyes and puckers his lips, his nose wrinkled as he tries to observe the Rauru Settlement to the southwest. It's a bit of a pointless effort, the small specks of movement impossible to observe in any meaningful way. Even with getting as high up as he has. Maybe if he can—
"HEYYYY KID!"
He blinks before he drops his hands in front of him and leans forward to peer down at the ground. One of the stable workers is in front of the stable hands on her hips and an angry look on her face. "Just what do you think you're doing, huh?! Get down from there; it's dangerous!"
Link shrugs and casts the settlement in the distance one final glance before he moves to climb down from the horse-shaped rooftop.
When he manages to make it to solid ground, the stablehand is standing there, tapping her foot and a solid glower on her face. He recognizes the look. His parents give him that look a lot. So it's not a surprise when a scolding follows. "What were you doing up on top of the stable, kid?"
He shrugs again. His hands find a place on his belt while he scuffs a foot against the dirt. "Just climbin'."
"Just climbing on the roof?"
One side of his face pinches and he averts his gaze.
"Where're your parents?"
"Dad left me here while they go fight some monsters," he says. "Thought if I got up high enough I could..."
"Fight some...ohhh, you're the captain's kid." Her voice loses some of its edge, sounding more tired than anything. "Look, kiddo, I know it can be kinda boring around here, but we can’t have you climbing all over the stable. If you really wanna climb and risk breaking something, do it on a tree, got it?"
"Mm."
"I'm supposed to be a horse-sitter not a babysitter," the stablehand mutters to herself as she walks away.
Link wrinkles his nose as he stalks off toward the Minshi Woods. She doesn't need to be his babysitter. He doesn’t need a babysitter at all.
His hand finds its way to his belt, and he takes his dagger out of his leather sheathe. He idly slices at the grass as he makes his way deeper into the trees. He doesn’t even know why his dad told him to wait at the stable anyway. He may only be twelve now, but he would have been just fine at the training camp alone.
His dad's unit was called up north because of the monster attacks on Rauru's Settlement. The villagers had been temporarily relocated to Castle Town until it was safe. Link offered to help—he knew he was good enough with a sword when he could beat the other soldiers and knights with relative ease—but his dad said no. He tried to argue, but it didn't help. And, somehow, he ended up getting escorted to the stable by one of the younger soldiers.
There's a swish as his dagger runs through the grass again. A soft tinkling noise hitting the air as a stray green rupee appears in the among the freshly cut blades. He pockets it absentmindedly before he continues to trudge through the grass alongside the pathway, cutting each overgrown patch he comes to.
Link may as well just head back to the training grounds anyway. He wanted to practice that cool spin attack while his dad had them here. Dad didn't like him practicing swordplay back in Hateno. Maybe because of that time Aryll nearly cut off all her hair when she found a traveler's sword Link had brought home.
The sword was under his bed; it wasn't Link's fault she was down there.
He wants to go back to the training grounds, but he'll probably get in trouble when they realize he isn’t at the stable. Then he might not get to practice the spin attack at all. Link gives a small huff before sheathing his dagger again. He doesn't want that. He may only be twelve, but he wishes people could take him a little more seriously.
He's about to turn on his heel to return to the stable when he hears a noise—a shimmer. Like how he imagines light would sound when it reflects off of metal. When he lifts his head, however, there's no sign of anyone else around and definitely no trace of any kind of metal that could have made that noise either. Odd.
Farther along the path that winds into the Great Hyrule Forest, a pale blue mist rolls in from the north. There are flecks among the mist that seems to sparkle like the fireflies he catches glimpses of after dark. He's noticed the mist before.
Once or twice a few years past, he loosed arrows in the direction of the forest. He went off in search of them (he didn't want to pay out of pocket for new arrows), and when he approached the mist to look for them, he swore he heard giggling voices calling to him among the branches. He tried to venture after them once, but somehow he ended up at a pile of ruins he found hidden among the fog.
At some point after that before he could make another attempt, a hand caught his shoulder. His father stood behind him and was surrounded by an entourage. He took Link by surprise when he wrapped him in a hug. He said Link had disappeared for hours and after night fell, they thought...
Link's brow furrows as he glances back toward the training campgrounds. Maybe he can understand why they didn’t want to leave him here alone again. At least a little.
The same shimmering noise drifts in from the woods ahead. Although this time, it flows, up and down—almost like a voice...or maybe a song? The specks among the blue fog glisten. The sparkling flecks seeming to twinkle to the mysterious tune.
Link doesn’t know how to explain half the things he does on a good day. Not in a way that makes sense to other people anyway. He can't explain the swoop in his stomach that tells him the perfect moment to dodge. The way time seems to slow down when he readies an arrow or prepares a counterattack. Nor the way he falls to one knee before he's aware the royal family has arrived.
In much the same way, he can't explain the invisible tug that he currently feels on his body and the way it beckons him insistently toward the woods. The grass crunches beneath his boots as he steps further into the forest.
Eventually, he finds himself back at the broken-down ruins from the last time he got stuck here. Although this time, on the stone, Link notices a fire and a nearby torch. The flames lick the air and disperse some of the coils of mist that reach their wispy tendrils out to engulf the area.
Was there a campfire the last time? He's not sure. It's been so long since then. Not to mention that last time he found himself so distracted by the giggles that coaxed him this way in the first place.
But the pulsating sound—voice? Song? —affects him differently than those high-pitched voices did in the past. It's less of a curiosity that pulls him forward and rather a siren's call that makes his entire soul thrum within his meager frame. His very spirit aching to reunite with something long dormant but nonetheless a part of him.
Link takes hold of the torch, letting the tip catch flame on the campfire, before he allows himself to step deeper into the wood. The mist in his direct vicinity seems to flinch away from his person and allow him a little more breathing room in his traversal.
He manages a few slow paces forward before he catches sight of something—another flame piercing through the fog. The steps he takes toward it are quick, lest the fog swallow it from his line of sight again in his hesitancy.
A singular lantern, its exposed flame burning brightly, is his reward. Several paces ahead, he sees another lantern and he doesn’t waste a moment to make his way to that one. He manages to find two more consecutively before he's forced to come to a stop.
There's nothing else in the immediate vicinity and attempting to peer into the fog—which only seems to have gotten thicker—for any other landmarks is about as useful as trying to look through a tree trunk. Even the pulsating voice has gradually slowed and Link's instincts that led him this way are muffled in the face of this unrelenting haze.
He could turn back, but the faint hum of that metallic song still allures him. There has to be something to this. There was a fire and a torch at the ruins. And now this path of lanterns here. His gaze falls upon this last one in the sequence, his brow furrowing as he tries to discern what makes the fires so important.
There’s nothing out of the ordinary, not as far as he can tell. He's thinking of just turning back—hopefully he hasn’t lost track of time like the last time he was here—when something unusual does catch his eye.
The embers from the lantern look as though they're trailing off in a sharp angle toward the right. Which wouldn’t be too weird except...
Link sticks his index finger in his mouth, wetting it, before raising it up into the air. Nothing. "If there's no wind, why are the embers..."
He glances back toward the previous lantern. The embers on that lantern drift toward his current spot.
His forehead smoothes as the answer dawns on him. But to test it, he takes a few steps backward, in the direction of the previous lantern, keeping eyes on his torch. The embers on his torch drift in the direction he was just at. And after a moment, he makes his way back towards the final lantern again. It's relatively unremarkable, but once he gets a pace or two away, the torch's embers suddenly veer harshly to the right.
The embers are like a compass—in some sense. He feels a little turned around in all this mist so he may not know which direction North is, but it's not as though the cardinal directions will suddenly change position because he took a few steps forward.
He can't pretend to understand how it works, but it just calls to mind some of his mother's advice.
"There's magic in this world, children. All around us, and even inside each of us too. Sometimes we can’t explain it, but that doesn't mean it's not real."
Whatever is happening, it's some form of magic, and there's no real point in questioning it. He just needs to know how to work with it.
He follows the direction of his torch, his steps slower than before in order to keep a close watch on the drifting cinders in case it suddenly changes.
He comes to a larger clearing, lit this time by two lanterns with another torch leaning against one of them. Probably a hint for travelers who hadn’t picked one up at the start. The flames from all three fires drift in the same direction—and somehow Link has the feeling this is the last "signpost" he'll have until he reaches whatever is at the end of his obscured path.
He glances up, unsurprised to find no trace of the sky through the fog. There's no time to waste—his dad will be worried sick if Link disappears for hours on end again. He needs to find the source of the noise—find whatever it is that calls to him so incessantly—and then get back out before anyone has noticed he's gone.
With a determined nod, Link makes his way onward with careful steps and a watchful eye on his flame. He doesn't know how long he wanders. It's impossible to grasp any concept of time in this place. He does know that, at one point, he gets distracted by the look of the trees—why do they have mouths? —and the fog engulfs him, and a cacophony of high-pitched voices pierce the air, seemingly laughing at him. When the haze eventually clears, he finds himself back at the clearing with the two lanterns again.
He decides not to give the trees another glance on attempt number two.
The song has gotten louder as he's traversed through the woods. With each step in the right direction, it grows more insistent to his ears, and Link finds himself feeling tingly—a faint buzzing that makes it feel as though his hair is standing on end.
What is it that waits for him at the end of this mysterious path? What could be so important that it requires a magical woodland to safeguard it? And why does the mere tug of this mystery feel like a piece that Link wasn't aware he'd been missing? What is it that's making his soul buzz in its anticipation?
Link wanders for so long, he'd almost think himself lost. Only, if he had strayed from the path, it would place him back at the start once more. It's the one thing that keeps him going in the seemingly endless trek, knowing that if he's still walking, it means he's got to be doing something right.
Eventually, the trees begin to thin. The dense fog begins to dissipate as two rock formations come into view on either side. Link looks between them, as he walks through, his mouth opening in a sort of silent awe as the area seems to morph into something entirely different than the obscured woods.
The thick, unruly grass tempers itself into pruned turf with an occasional patch of vibrant wildflowers punctuating the verdant ground. As the last of the mist seems to ebb entirely, Link spots an enormous hollow log up ahead. As he approaches it, the song seems to take a triumphant turn; the same notes that coaxed him this way, but higher and infused with more gusto compared to the melancholic impression it seemed to carry before.
Through the log, he comes to a place of natural beauty. The splendor of the foliage, the way the sunlight seems to make the area positively shimmer. So vibrant, that Link has to squint from the strain it causes his eyes to even attempt to take it all in. It's all accentuated by the absolutely gargantuan tree that's covered in cherry blossoms which its roots and branches seem to reach across the whole area, like some kind of protective force. He continues to wander forward, his steps slowed and stuttering as he tries to admire it in its glory anyway—
"Well, now,"—a deep voice suddenly remarks, and it forces Link to freeze glancing about for this new arrival—"it seems you children were right about receiving a guest."
His gaze flits about for whatever company has decided to join him but certainly no one else is here. Link can see the occasional rustle of movement from trees and in farther patches of tall grass but can only assume they're animals frightened after catching sight of him. Perhaps there's another way to find this sanctuary's guardian.
"Can I...really be a guest if I'm not invited?" he wonders, his eyes narrowed as he waits for the movement that will reveal this stranger.
"Oh, my dear child, anyone who can find their way into Korok Forest is considered to have received an open invitation."
"Korok Forest...?" It sounds familiar. Link racks his brain trying to remember why it rings a bell. He thinks he can remember his mom mentioning koroks once. Something about them being forest spirits only visible to those pure of heart. Maybe that's why he can’t see the source of this voice? "So, you're a korok?"
When the stranger laughs, the forest floor seems to quake beneath Link's feet, and he struggles to remain standing while keeping a grip on his torch. At the thundering laughter, the forest seems to come to life, several little heads popping out from behind distant foliage to catch a peek as the hylian struggles.
"Oh, my apologies," the voice says once his laughter has faded, "it's been a long time since one as young as yourself has ventured into these depths. Most older hylians know of my kind from legends past."
Legends?
"I am the Great Deku Tree." It's only when his title is revealed that Link truly takes in the gigantic tree that he noticed before—now suddenly aware that is has an aged face etched into its trunk—who's wood seems to bend and gnarl in his speech but never break. "Protector of the koroks, and guardian of the sword of legend."
"Sword of—"
Link hears that same metallic shimmering sound from before, loud and insistent from somewhere ahead. He finds himself jogging forward. A stone triforce—the symbol of untold sacred power—sits ahead of the Great Deku Tree, and within the raised triangular pedestal rests a sword deeply embedded into the stone.
The hilt is a deep purple, a pattern of green crisscrossing along its handle while the steel of the blade has another triforce etched into its otherwise spotless surface. Upon catching sight of it, Link's right hand suddenly feels cold, and he finds his grasp on the torch tightening ever so slightly. At that same moment, the sword seems to pulsate, a glow engulfing its form when that metallic sound from before pierces the air yet again.
"The Master Sword. A weapon crafted by the ancient goddess," the Great Deku Tree elaborates. Link steps closer, his feet finding the few steps onto the stone platform and ascending them ever so slowly. "The sword that seals the darkness—which only the chosen knight can wield to face Calamity Ganon when he returns to this world."
Calamity Ganon...his father's been talking about that more and more recently. The King has begun excavation efforts to unearth some kind of ancient relics and he knows he's heard his father mutter to himself something about how it's all doomed to be for naught without that "damned sword"...
When Link steps onto the stone platform, the weapon's glow flickers as its song plays once more.
"She appears to have taken a liking to you."
Link finds his head tilting to one side as he allows his eyes to drift up to the Deku Tree. "She...?"
"It is said there is a spirit that dwells within the sword. Over the many eons, her presence and sense of self has faded, but some can still hear her voice, if they listen close."
Link continues to close the distance between himself and the sword. Is this what's been calling out to him? A sword of legend...why is its voice reaching him? "How do you know...who's the chosen knight?"
"The sword is embedded into the stone with a deep magic." As the Great Deku Tree speaks, Link notices some odd little creatures begin to peer at the forest's visitor, masks resembling leaves for their faces. "It stands as a test to anyone who would dare attempt to possess it."
His confidence wavers. A test? Maybe if it's a duel he stands some sort of chance. "What kind of test?"
"Only those who are worthy will be able to remove the sword."
That doesn't seem so bad. Certainly better than some kind of academic test. Link reaches out a hand, eager to at least make an attempt—even if it should prove fruitless.
"But even one who's deemed worthy must exercise extreme caution," the Deku Tree continues and forces Link's hand to still. "If they are too weak, they will lose their life where they stand."
His hand flinches back as though burned, clenching into a fist while he frowns.
"You seem troubled, my child."
"I thought maybe I could be..." The sword is responding to him. It's been calling to him. It's led him straight here. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? There's a part of Link that feels as though dying isn’t even a worry. He's not even concerned about that, not really. "But..."
He looks back from whence he came. He thinks of his dad trying to leave him at the stable. Thinks of the way he embraced his son when he thought Link had disappeared those couple years ago. Of his mother standing beside him at a cooking pot and teaching him the best way to break down certain ingredients with a patient smile. Of Aryll riding around on his back, giggling madly as she announced the presence of some imagined enemies in her telescope.
Link lowers his torch, the flame snuffing out when it touches the stone, while his other hand clutches the front of his green tunic. What would it do to them if he just vanished like that? To pull a sword at the chance of being a hero, only to lose his life and leave them all behind without so much as a word? "I have other people to think about."
"Hmm, you bear much responsibility for one so young," the Great Deku Tree muses. "Worry not—worthy or no—I will stay the hand of one as young as yourself. However, should you fail, my koroks will remove you from this forest. You would be more than welcome to try again in the future."
"Really?"
The Great Deku Tree hums in affirmation. "The goddess, Farore, would admire your show of courage to even make an attempt. I will honor that show of valor as well."
The hand on Link's chest relaxes, releasing the bunched material as he breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
"Now, test your might, young one."
Link nods, and he moves to set the torch on the ground. If the blade is really a test of strength and that deeply stuck in the stone, he has a feeling he'll want to use both hands. He takes the remaining few steps to the sword, frantically wiping his hands on his pants just in case there's any sweat to make the task even more difficult.
When he takes a deep breath, the sword seems to glow vibrantly with a pleasant hum one final time. Almost like it's giving him encouragement. It brings a smile to his face before he settles both hands upon the sword's hilt.
It surprises him to find the sword is warm to the touch, but he doesn't dwell on it. He tugs on it and finds himself beginning to feel sluggish—like he's been out in the sun too long and is slowly succumbing to heatstroke.
Chink.
But, still, he pulls, lifting with his knees, even as they quake and his arms tremble.
Chink.
He feels the sword shift just slightly. But he doesn't have a second to be relieved. With each passing moment, his limbs get heavier and heavier.
Chink.
Link keeps his eyes closed; face tightened in his focus. He thinks of his father worrying over this missing sword. Of his mother's whispered voice asking what will happen to the children if she succumbs to her illness before the Calamity while she thinks Link is asleep.
Chink.
Thinks of their kingdom…dreading the incoming Calamity without its reassuring presence. His muscles strain as he gives one final tug.
...Chink!
The force weighing him down eases all at once as he feels the sword break free from the stone's hold. Even after the pressure fades, Link remains standing with his eyes closed for a moment longer. His breathing is heavy. His hands and the hilt they grasp remain above his head, and he can hear high-pitched oohs and ahs from the nearby forest spirits.
When his breath falls even, he allows himself to peek. And the first thing he sees is his own blue eye reflecting back at him from the triforce that's etched into the blade. He can only stare, slack jawed even when some of the koroks close in on him to get a better look for themselves.
"It seems you managed to survive," the Great Deku Tree speaks over the cheers of the forest spirits. Link can only nod dumbly as he reorients the sword in his hands to admire it from a different angle. "What is your name, young one?"
"Link."
"A fitting name for one continuing a chain of destiny," the Great Deku Tree chortles. He regains his professionalism quickly, however, and adds, "It seems the sword did take quite the liking to you indeed."
The Master Sword glimmers, making the same noise as before and Link almost believes it's the equivalent of the sword winking at him.
"You're still young—and there's much you must yet learn—but I am not the one to share such knowledge." The Great Deku Tree seems to look among the forest floor, searching for something. "Maca can escort you out, but you'll want to make haste for Hyrule Castle. They will have the sword's scabbard as well as pertinent information to give you."
A korok who must be Maca eventually waddles their way forward, trying to contain their excitement. They say something to him about the sword, Link's pretty sure, but honestly, he's still reeling from what all just transpired that he's hardly paying attention.
Maca might explain to him how leaving the forest works as they're leading the way out too, but it doesn't matter. Not really. Instead, all Link can do is gaze at the sword, grinning so wide his face hurts.
They have the sword!
His father's complained about it being missing for so long and now it's here! The searching will be over the moment Link departs from the woods. Now he just has to go to Hyrule Castle and pass it on to the royal family for safekeeping until the Calamity.
Link is alive. The sword is freed. Hyrule is safe. Hyrule is protected. It's everything the Captain of the Royal Guard—his father—could possibly want!
But when he arrives at the stable, safe and sound with sword in hand, he watches his dad's face morph from relief to absolute horror.
The same look he's gotten when there's been reports of entire settlements being wiped off the map.
Link's smile falters before he looks down at the sword in his hand.
Has...he done something wrong…?