Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wind stares at the two journals on his lap. One is worn with use, the other’s unfamiliar with ink. He used to journal a lot during his adventure, and the long stretches of the calm sea provide plenty of time to write. “Another reason why boats are superior to horses.” Wind thinks while fishing some old ink out of his bag. He probably should’ve been more careful since the half-empty bottle clanks loudly against some used potions.

“Shit!” the sailor curses under his breath.

Earlier, Time arched a suspicious eyebrow when he asked to take the first watch, and Wind didn’t want any more reasons for the Old Man to be even more watchful.

“He’s plenty nosy as is,” Wind huffs as he puts his things aside and settles in for the coming watch.

Staring into the flickering embers under Wild’s cooking pot, Wind tries to get in the mood to write. Flipping through his old journal shows his last entry to be. . . a few years ago, when he finally, finally got Aryll out of that damned Forsaken Fortress. The remaining pages remain empty, the book having served its purpose. Wind felt nostalgic and wistful reading these old entries. His diary has seen him through a lot—most of his journey, really, until he won his rematch against that overgrown cucco. The first entry was written by a random kid from Outset. The last by the wielder of the Master Sword. These journal entries abated his worry over Aryll’s safety as he journeyed across the Great Sea, and he doubts whether he could’ve ever reached the Master Sword without it.

Wind sighs as he stows his old journal. After all that retrospection, this new journal feels heavy in his hands. No one’s been kidnapped—Thank Hylia—but in a few short hours, he’s going to lose his second younger sibling. Wind takes back his gratitude for the goddess. She had to make Wild go on another quest. For fuck’s sake, didn’t she see how much his first one hurt him! As cool as those scars are, Wind doesn’t want Wild to go through that shit again. When he gets back, Wind will make sure to have many stories in case his younger brother needs cheering up.

“Oh yeah, that’s why I wanted a journal!” Wind shouts in his head, “To write down all the cool shit I do while Wild’s gone. . . . while Wild’s gone.”

Wind slumps as he holds back a few tears. Wild’s impending departure finally set in his mind. The news came suddenly after all. Fi just randomly announced that Wild had to go back tomorrow. That his Hyrule needed him again. The whirlwind of shouting and words that followed did little to help Wind process the news, and the absolute feast that the Champion whipped up for dinner kept everyone’s mind off the topic. The Chain settled for the day after the news broke out, and the banquet was probably Wild’s way of uplifting the otherwise depressing mood that hung over the group. To his credit, it worked. Wind spent the night roughhousing with Wild and Hyrule, chatting up a storm with Four, and demolishing Legend and Wars at cards. He cheated, of course, but the other two were too dumb to catch onto his antics.

Wind chuckled to himself as he relaxed his shoulders. The night ended with pre-emptive farewells, in case the Champion had to leave before the morning. It was sweet rather than bitter—to Wind’s surprise—with both smiles and tears. It reminded him of when he left Outset Island after his first adventure. Much better than his first departure, Wind silently laughed. His smirk straightens to a bittersweet smile at the thought.

“Hmph, what’s so funny?”

Wind jumps at the voice, and swerves his head to the right, seeing Wild standing just over him.

“Hylia’s shit, Wild! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Haha, sorry, sorry. You’d want to keep it down though,” the Champion sheepishly remarks.

“You think I don’t know that? I was quiet enough before you scared the shit out of me!” Wind angrily whispers to Wild who silently plops himself next to the angered sailor.

“I apologized, didn’t I? Anyway, you ever gonna write on that?” Wild says, motioning to the journal on Wind’s lap. “You’ve just kinda stared at it for a few hours.”

“What?! Hours? There’s no way it’s been that long!”

Wind looks up to the starry sky, scanning for time’s passage among the celestial lights. To his trained sailor’s eyes, the Big Dipper’s orientation, unfortunately, affirms Wild’s claim.

“Shit, you fucking right! My watch’s nearly over! Wait. . . if you knew that I’ve been staring off into space for hours. . .di-did you not go to sleep?”

Wild shrugs, “What? It’s like this normally, no?”

“Y-you!” At this apathetic response, Wind squeezes Wild’s face, turning the Champion towards him and glaring straight into his eyes.

“You dumb. Irresponsible. Shitty little brother! Did Time’s warning go over your stupid head?! You should fucking sleep early especially when you’re leaving tomorrow! W-when you’re, l-leaving to *hic* tomo—”

Wild seemed startled by the sudden touch but quickly recovers, prying Wind’s hands off his face.

“Sh-sh, Wind. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be okay”

The Champion pulls the now-crying sailor into a soft embrace and begins to rub his hand across Wind’s soft hair.

“I’ll be back. By the goddesses, Wind, I’ll be back.” After a moment of silence, Wild adds, “You better stay safe too.”

Rubbing tears from his eyes, Wind gently pushes himself up to face Wild.

“Of fucking course I’ll be safe! Hell, with how strong I am, I can keep the rest of the Chain safe too in my sleep.”

“Hahahaha! I’m sure you can, big bro.”

“Urk.”

Remembering what he said a bit ago, Wind's face burns a vibrant red as he stammers, “T-that’s right! I am your big brother!”

“Yeah yeah, sailor.”

Wind gives Wild his meanest pout as the champion snorts between breaths. Wind glares as much as he could through his pouting.

“Hmph.” Wind angrily turns away from the Champion, “I see you don’t take me seriously, little brother.”

At this, Wild devolves into restrained cackling, trying his best to withhold his laughter and not awaken their sleeping brothers.

Once Wild’s chuckles calmed into a comfortable silence, Wind slowly twists his posture back toward the Champion. The soft orange light of their dimming campfire illuminates Wild’s relaxed expression as he stares at the ever-twinkling stars. Wind regrets not having his pictobox handy to capture the moment.

“You know, Wind. I think you’re right”

“Hm?” Snapping out his reverie, Wind replies with his signature snark. “Well, I’m always right, so you’re gonna have to be more specific there.”

“I-I mean about that whole big brother thing.”

Blushing at the reminder of his slip-up, Wind sputters, “Like I said, I’m—

“No, no. Let me finish,” Wild interrupted, cutting Wind off mid-sentence. “It’s just. . . you always seem to know what to say or do to comfort me. You got that warmth, like Twi or Wolfie, but different. I always appreciate the Rancher’s concern, but. . . it’s suffocating sometimes, you know? I think you’re more. . . subtle. Like if Twi’s always protecting me from the front, you’d have my back—Sorry, I’m really bad with words, aren’t I?”

Wind’s mouth—still open from the interruption—widens and contracts in shock. Ever since he met Wild, Wind always thought the Champion to be his younger brother, even though he never said it before tonight. To have that sentiment accepted by his emotionally elusive little brother renders the normally talkative sailor dumbfounded.

“Wind?”

Realizing he kind of just left Wild hanging, Wind scans his thoughts to form some sort of coherent response. Wild just acknowledged him as a big brother. Wild just called him big brother!!! Wind couldn’t hide his wide smile as he tries to give his younger brother an appropriate response.

“W-well,” Wind slowly stutters out. “The Rancher handles us like one of his goats. He doesn’t really get it. That you can still do shit, I mean.” As his thoughts solidify in his head, the sailor relaxes and words begin to flow freely from his lips.

“After meeting you, it was pretty obvious that under all those scars and skills was a little kid—I think all of us easily saw that much.” Wind says as he looks at their sleeping companions. “But I think everyone—especially Twi—forgot that your goddess-sent cooking or sick-ass sword skills had to come from somewhere.”

Wind turns to give Wild his biggest smile. “You’re a hero too, Wild. I just respected who you already were. And you’re gonna be a hero again. I’m sure of it.”

Wild’s wet eyes widened with surprise at Wind’s encouragement. “H-how’d you know tha—no. I mean, How are you—

“Wait! Hold that thought,” Wind says as he hushes the Champion’s questions with his index finger. Before Wild could voice his complaints, Wind retrieves the old journal he stowed earlier that night.

“Ahah! There it is,” Wind joyfully exclaims as he hands Wild the worn book. “Here. I’m lending this to you for a bit, okay? You better give it back.”

Baffled at the sudden gift, Wild asks, “W-why is this? Wait, no. I-I mean. Wha-why?”

Amused at his younger brother’s confusion, Wind chuckles. “It’s obviously a book, dummy. I wrote some stories from my first adventure. Thinking of all the things I’d tell Aryll got my mind off of. . . darker thoughts. I want you to have it so that by the time you get back, we’d trade.” Wind said, raising the newer journal to emphasize his point.

Wind's smile widened at the look of surprise and relief on Wild’s face—that alone made this whole trade worth it. And while impromptu, Wind did put a bit of thought into this. Returning Aryll’s telescope kept him going during his quest, and Wild definitely needs a better outlet for his emotions. Honestly, the whole Chain kind of does, but he can help the others another time. Wild comes first—speaking of which.

The Champion is weakly whimpering while rubbing his wet eyes. His face scrunches like he’s trying really hard to hold back an entire dam of tears, and his mouth silently quivers with the motion of half-formulated words. It seems Wind’s gift worked a little too well, but before he could make any comment, Wild’s face suddenly lightens. As if hit with an epiphany, Wild wipes away his tears, whips out his Sheikah Slate, and frantically swipes through, presumably, his inventory. Curious, Wind tries to look over the Champion’s shoulder, who forcibly twists his body to obscure the Shiekah Slate.

“Hey, just wait a minute, okay?” Wild exclaims, desperate to shake off Wind’s prying eyes. “I’m trying to find something to give back. It doesn’t feel right for me to take your diary without giving something in return.”

“Well, as long as you fill out that diary, you don’t gotta give shit.” Wind lazily responds as he returns to a more natural resting position. With Wild pouting at his lacking enthusiasm, the shorter hero reluctantly gives in. “Though, if you really want to give me something, then hand over your hardest-earned treasure!” Wind half-hopes that Wild would either refuse the demand or give him some cool-ass artifact. He does not expect Wild to give his signature smirk—the kind that he wore while shield-surfing or ‘wind-bombing’ off high places. That face spelled some sort of trouble, usually for both Wild and the witness, and always at the cost of Time and Hyrule’s sanity. Wind’s gotten much entertainment out of Wild’s shenanigans, so he’s really hoping that Wild gives him a remote bomb or something equally exciting. Instead, Wild pulls out a three-runged pile of golden shit as wide as his palm and hands it to Wind.

“This is Hetsu’s treasure!” Wild pompously declared. “Took me the better part of three years to gather all the shi—I mean keys to unlock this legendary artifact, hidden in the foggiest forests of the Lost Woods. To commemorate our strengthened brotherhood, I shall loan you this one-of-a-kind gift!” With his bit done, Wild fails to hold in his chuckles and locks eyes with Wind, who is giving his younger brother a dead deadpan gaze.

Removing all emotion from his voice and exaggerating each syllable, Wind iterates, “There’s no fucking way—not a fucking chance—that you just gave me a literal piece of shit. No, not just a piece, but a whole fucking pile!

“Pffff—Hahahahaa! W-wind—wheeze—Wind!” Wild chortles. “Your face! You should see your—hick—face! Hahahaha!”

Unamused by the Champion’s admittingly hilarious joke, Wind’s now feeling up for some mischief, and all that laughing leaves his victim wide open for an attack.

“Heh. You think you’ll get the final laugh? You think you can mess with me? Here’s my first lesson as your big brother.” Wind cracks his knuckles while standing over a chuckling and unsuspecting Wild. “I always get the final laugh. Hiiyah!”

With that, Wind pounces on the prone Champion who groans under the sudden weight.

“Wind! What do you think you’re do—HAHAHAHA!” Wind mercilessly pokes and prods at Wild’s exposed sides to forcibly draw out the laughter that mocked him. “W-wait! Wind—AH! Be-behind—Gah! He’s gonna—”

“Oh shut your mouth your shit-loving bastard!” Wind shouts. “This is RETRIBUTION! VENGANCE! I will have my REVEN—OW! What the fuck hit me?!”

“Hmmm, how about a very sleepy healer who would very much like to be asleep right now?” Wind turns to see a very annoyed Hyrule giving the most terrifying smile the sailor’s ever seen. “If you’re going to have your vengeance, then it’s only fair I get mine, right?”

Wind and Wild both gulp as Hyrule cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck. “Yes, for all the trouble you two give me, I think some punishment is long overdue.” Before his two brothers could react, the Traveler quickly bends down to flick the foreheads of the two boys, both shocked at the tame penalty.

“Just be glad, I was the only one to wake up. Besides, Wind’s shift’s been over for a while now, and I’ve just been having fun eavesdropping on you two.” Hyrule giggles at the offended faces Wind and Wild are giving him. “Oh, and for the record, I am the older brother to both of you.”

Neither Wind nor Wild takes that comment lying down, but their older brother manages to subdue them without waking the others. Not long after, the sailor and champion are (forcibly) in bed, the sweet embrace of rest soon taking both.

. . .

By the time Wind wakes up, all that’s left of his younger brother is lukewarm pumpkin soup. Weirdly, the only one awake is the Old Man, and even weirder, he’s surrounded by dishes, some mostly eaten, others untouched. Looking more closely, Wind recognizes the favorite dishes of all his sleeping brothers. (A final gift from Wild, he guesses.)

“Hey Old Man, what’s up with everyone else?”

Time looks up from his half-eaten pie, “Good morning to you too, Wind. Here, join me for breakfast. You can warm up your soup if it’s too cold.” Wind accepts the offer and plops down next to Time who continues, “Wild left around dawn, and according to him, another portal’s incoming for the rest of us. Since the champion’s good at sensing divinity, I decided to take his word for it and made today a rest day. And as you can see, everyone’s needed some shuteye”

Wind rolls his eyes and scowls. “C’mon, Old Man. Give the eye jokes a rest!”

Time giggles to himself, “Well, I thought it was pretty funny. Anyways, feel free to sleep in. And before you say anything, I took the last watch, so I feel no need to sleep, and if I do later, I promise to switch with Twilight or Legend. Okay?”

“Wow, bold of you to assume that I care for your well-being,” Wind jokingly jabs back to hide his own embarrassment. “Anyway, I’ll take you up on that offer after I finish this soup.”

The portal is Time’s given reason for allowing everyone to sleep in, but Wind knows better. All of them need the chance to grieve—no wait, that’s a bit too dramatic—to accept that Wild won’t be with them for a while. Wind’s no exception, and neither is the Old Man if his red eye was any indication. He slowly savors his pumpkin soup, taking time to savor each spoonful before deciding to go back to bed. Wind senses that the following week is going to be a long one, and he’d rather not deal with it right now.

“Yup, I’ll let someone else handle all the mopey teenagers. Sleep is. . . much better.”

Chapter Text

Legend knows he’s being unfair. No one deserves to be at the receiving end of his mood swings—not his brothers and especially not Hyrule. But knowing that he’s wrong doesn’t make it any easier to be right. Though, it’s not really his fault because Twilight’s temper tantrum is putting everyone on edge: Legend was just the first to snap. But damn, the Rancher’s a lot stronger than he—Before his internal rant can spiral further, a pleading voice interjects.

“Legend, please. Can you just sit still?” Hyrule begs while giving his patented puppy eyes. “To ensure a perfect recovery, I need to align the bones in your wrist before I heal it.”

Legend internally winces. How can he resist those eyes? “Fine, but don’t use too much magic. We got potions to spare for once, so no need to waste your spells.”

“There you go worrying about me again! I told you, I’m fine. We are stopping for the day anyways, and there are no injuries to treat but yours.” The Traveler sighs as he gets back to treating his patient. “Save those potions for a rainy day.” The conversation falls into a lull as Hyrule focuses on working his magic. Once his wrist is bandaged, a comforting warmth seeps into Legend’s arm, and he can feel his bones, muscles, and tendons regenerating and reassembling. Soon, it’s as if his arm was never injured in the first place.

“There, that should do it.” Satisfied with his work, Hyrule wipes the sweat off his forehead. “But give that arm some rest tonight, okay? Unless you want to drop your sword while fighting tomorrow. ”

Ignoring the warning, Legend just glares at Hyrule.

“Uh, do you need anything else, Legend?” The traveler asks while storing his medical supplies.

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“Huh? Ask you what?”

“Don’t screw with me Rulie,” the Veteran seethes. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Hyrule loudly sighs and turns his back toward Legend. “What is there to ask? Why you provoked Twilight into a duel? How he managed to shatter your wrist in the process? Why everyone else just allowed that to happen?” Hyrule then turns around and gives his predecessor a sad look. “Legend, I’m not as dense as you all think I am. And I know you. You and Twilight both.”

“Then why do you all just allow him to be like that?!” Legend jumps to his feet, making wild motions with his arms as he speaks. “I know he’s worried for Wild, we all are! But, Rulie, it’s been three fucking months! The way he’s acting will get one of us killed! Hell, it nearly has gotten us killed! So please, please tell me. Why the fuck does everyone allow him to randomly wander off in the middle of his watch or to charge headlong into enemy lines?! Why do you all entertain his behavior like he’s completely fine?!”

“Because unlike you, the rest of us have tact.” Warriors interjects as he leaves the forest and into the clearing. “No, to be more accurate, it’s because we’re all scared, Ledge. Scared that we might break him.”

At this, Legend runs towards Warriors, grabs him by the scarf, and pulls the Captain’s face down to his eye level. “ Break him, Wars? Like he’s made of fucking gla—”

“STOP! Both of you!” Hyrule shouts. “Just, calm down. Okay? We’ll continue this discussion tomorrow. If you guys collect your thoughts tonight, perhaps you’ll actually sound coherent. Please?”

The two arguing heroes reluctantly let each other go, both giving a mumbled set of grunts to signal their hesitant approval. Satisfied, Hyrule smiles, “Good! Since we’re in Sky’s era, I trust that he and the others can find and deal with Twilight, so I think it’s best we all call it a night. Especially you, mister patient.”

Silently scowling, Legend gives Wars the sideye before turning to head to his bedroll, but something grabs his arm.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Hyrule chimes, “You guys forgot something.”

Warriors, who’s also being held by the Traveler, whines, “Ugh, what is it now, Hyrule? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make us apologize like we’re children or something.”

Hyrule smugly smirks, “That’s exactly what you’re going to do. If you don’t like it, then don’t act like children.”

“Nuh-uh. No way. I’m not apologizing first, especially since I’m right and he’s definitely wrong here.” Warriors frees his arm from Hyrule’s grasp and storms off.

Hyrule pouts and looks at his mentor expectantly, giving him the same puppy eyes from earlier. Internally, Legend sighs. As much as he does not want to inflate the Captain’s ego or encourage his current mindset, he’s too exhausted from dealing with Twilight right now to care about something as petty as pride. And of course, how could he resist those eyes? Steeling his resolve, Legend gives Hyrule a tired look before catching up to Warriors.

“Wars!”

The Captain turns around and scowls, “What? Are you going to continue what you started?”

Legend shakes his head. “Look, I’m sorry, alright. For grabbing and screaming at you.”

“Apologize to the Rancher and the Old Man when they get back, then we’ll call it even.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Ledge. Apologize for instigating the fight and for what you said, and we’ll call it even.”

Quickly losing his patience, Legend tries to restrain his fury. “Wars, I know it’s wrong to provoke the Rancher or to shout at all of you, but I’m not taking back what I said. The way you’re all handling this is just fucking wrong, and you of all people know it.”

Warriors sighs while readjusting his scarf. “Then what’s the point of apologizing if you aren’t going to own up to it?”

Legend tries to respond, but the words die in his throat. He knows that being a prick isn’t the right thing to do, but he can say the same about enabling Twilight’s highly self-destructive behavior. In the end, neither side wins, and all he can do is hang his head in silent anguish. But when he looks down in frustration, he sees a mysterious hole right behind the Captain’s feet. It looks dark and is probably magical and. . . “Wait a fucking second. That’s a damn portal! If Wars turns around now he’s going to—”

“I see we’re done here. Good night, oh great hero of Legend.” Warriors jabs, ignorant of any danger.

“Wars, Wait!”

“I said we’re do—” Legend’s warning comes a moment too late, and Wars’ sudden fall cuts off the sound of his voice.

“Damn it!” Without any hesitation, the Vet jumps head-first into the portal in a futile attempt to catch the Captain.

As soon as Legend enters the rift in space-time, his vision goes dark and a wave of nausea hits him, nearly causing him to vomit. A second passes, then two, then thirty, then a whole minute.

“I think . . . this is taking longer than normal.” Legend thinks before his head crashes into something. Soon after, the hero falls unconscious.

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . . Open your eyes . . .

. . .

. . .

. . . Open your eyes . . .

. . . Wake up, Link . . .

WAKE UP!

Legend’s eyes flutter for a moment before shooting right open. The familiar sight of his bedroom’s roof greets him. Confused, Legend rolls his head to the right and sees a sunlit windowsill with a lively flowerpot and a serene view of his orchard.

“. . .Am I. . . home?”

“Ah, Mister Hero, you’re finally awake! How are you feeling?” A chipper voice chimes from Legend’s left.

Turning toward the sound, the injured hero tries to sit up but winces in pain as a sharp headache pounds from his temples. His vision blurs and starts spinning, further aggravating his nausea.

A purple-hooded figure quickly rushes to Legend’s side to support his body.

“Woah, take it easy. Here, Mister Traveler gave me this in case you awaken while he’s asleep. Should help with your nausea and pain.” His comforting caretaker holds some sort of tonic in front of Legend. The sickeningly sweet smell from the bottle—somewhat similar to Wild’s tonics—kind of stings his nostrils, but the stimulus helps Legend reorient himself.

“Ravio. . . ?”
“Yes, Mister Hero? Wait, are you so ill that you cannot take the medicine on your own? Ah, to think that I was so ignorant of your condition! Now please open wi—”

“NO! No. I am perfectly capable of taking whatever this is on my own, thank you very much.” The embarrassed hero quickly snatches the potion from Ravio’s hand and downs it before his friend gets any ideas. A cool, viscous liquid flows down Legend’s throat, and the pain in his head quickly dissipates. But as soon as Legend’s body relaxes with relief, a stabbing sensation explodes from his stomach, threatening to vacate its contents.

“Hurk—euch.” Legend barely manages not to puke all over himself and his sheets, “Ra-ravio. . . What the hell did I just drink?”

“Haaaaaa,” the cheery merchant rubs his forehead in deep disappointment. “You were only supposed to take a quarter of the medicine in that bottle, and if I recall correctly, we had to buy some fairly strong and expensive herbs—Sigh—sadly at quite a hefty blow to my wallet. Ask the brewer if you want the details.”

“You mean Rulie? . . . Wait, Wars!” Finally recalling the somewhat dire circumstances prior to his awakening, Legend nearly jumps out of bed, only stopped by a very concerned Ravio.

“Wa-wait a moment, Mister Hero! Your companions are perfectly safe! Rather, you are the injured one this time.”

“Then where are they Ravio?!”

“They are all quite tired looking after you or procuring medicine or. . . being heroes, I guess.”

“Is Wars okay?”

“Well, thanks to the concerted efforts of your companions, the pretty Captain’s doing mighty fine. That portal spat you guys through the roof, which Mister Old Hero helped me fix, and because of that, you two ended up injured. Compared to his sprained ankle, though, your head injury proved much more serious. Speaking of which, the sedative within the potion you just chugged should be kicking in right about. . . now.”

“Wha—

Legend’s jaw muscles involuntarily slack, allowing an embarrassing amount of drool to drip from his mouth. His eyes flutter as if struggling to stay open, his posture collapses, and he nearly slumps off the bed, saved only by Ravio’s speedy reaction. However, Legend hardly notices his failing physical capacities as his mental faculties deteriorate much faster. The hero murmurs some slurred sounds and hears Ravio’s comforting voice before sliding into unconsciousness.

“Sweet dreams, my dear friend.”

. . .

Legend’s awakening this time around is much more gradual than the first time. Fleeting dreams of the sea breeze and sweet songs vaguely linger in the veteran’s mind as the dim orange light of evening slowly draws him into the waking realm. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves sound through the air, and the lackadaisical aura of the late afternoon permeates throughout the room. The whole scene would have been quite serene if there wasn’t an anxious Captain pacing back and forth by the bedside muttering half-formed apologies that Legend probably wasn’t supposed to hear. If their last conversation wasn’t so tense, he would jumpscare Warriors, but considering their circumstances, it’d probably be best for Legend to make his presence known.

“Glad to see you’re doing well.” Despite the vet’s best efforts, a bit of snark and sarcasm still coated his words.

“Ledge!” Relief and surprise in equal proportions shine through Warrior’s voice, but his face shows signs of hesitation—probably out of worry that Legend heard something embarrassing. “B-by the way. . . how long have you been awake?”

“Not long, but if I had to guess, you’d been clucking and running circles like a cucco ever since you saw me like this.” Legend makes a grand sweeping motion with his arms to highlight his honestly pathetic situation.

With his ears tinged scarlet, Warriors does his best to regain his composure and redirect the conversation:

“Well, I won’t confirm or deny it,” Wars coughs, “and it seems your head’s well enough to jab at my pride.”

“A little concussion won’t dull my tongue,” Legend snaps back.

“Ha! You wouldn’t be calling your concussion small if you actually saw what happened.” Warriors reaches for the latter half of his scarf and shows off some faded brown stains. “The portal must have closed after you and I fell through it, so this was, unfortunately, the only thing I had to stop the bleeding until Ravio showed up. For someone so skittish, he was surprisingly reliable in treating both of us.”

“Considering his wares, I’m not really surprised. ‘A merchant must always know his wares,’ or so he always says, and since his potions always sell out, I guess he’s not wrong.” Legend runs his hand through his matted blonde hair, dry but still bandaged and stained with blood. “You guys did pretty well cleaning it up. How long have I been out anyway?”

“About a day and a half. Apparently, you woke up this morning, but everyone was asleep after staying up all night. Rulie especially pushed himself trying to heal both of us.”

“He used his magic again? He just healed my wrist!”

“No, he was out after treating the other group’s scuffs before they went through the portal. He tried to make medicine based on Wild’s notes with Ravio’s help, and looking at you makes me think he succeeded.”

“Damn, Rulie’s pretty amazing. . .” Legend tries to ask about the other group, the ones that went after Twilight, but the words just die in his throat. It seems that they all made it here safely, but he can’t help worrying. After all, Wars just said there were some injuries—minor, sure, but injuries nonetheless. At the end of the day, Legend cares deeply about all his brothers, even with all the drama going on. More pressingly, Legend wants to air out the tension between him and the Wars, and considering his behavior, the Captain wants the same. But. . .

“How the hell do I apologize without escalating things?” Legend remembers his most recent apology just made things worse, and he can’t be sure if it won’t happen again. As much as he does not want to argue with Wars, Legend knows he doesn’t have the patience to deal with blatant bullshit right now.

An awkward silence fills the room. Both heroes repeatedly make and break eye contact, trying and failing to revive their conversation.

“Screw it. Whatever happens, happens.” Legend steels his resolve and tries to begin his apology, but Warriors beat him to it.

“Ledge, look.” The Captain nervously fiddles with his hair and scarf before continuing, “You’re right. Hell, everyone probably knows you’re right, even that hard-headed Rancher. It’s just. . . stopping his behavior is hard. Like I said, hard-headed. But more than that, I think it grounds some of us—me and Time and maybe even Sky—especially, to have to care for someone worse off. What I'm trying to say is that Twi’s behavior easily distracts us from our own feelings. And, well, it led to this mess. So yes, I think you are perfectly right to say that we’re ‘fucking wrong’ as you eloquently put it.” Wars makes air quotes with his fingers while quoting Legend. “I can’t really speak for anyone else except myself, but regardless, I apologize for enabling Twi’s behavior and for blowing you off. I realize that it’s selfish, but I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of fucking course I forgive you.” Legend thinks to himself. Of course, since he is Legend, he’d never say it aloud, instead opting to give his own apology.

“I’m also sorry. I know I could’ve handled this situation better. Case in point, trying to duel Twilight probably was not my brightest idea, nor was shouting at everyone without properly explaining my view. I just got impatient, I guess. The Rancher didn’t seem receptive to anyone’s softer critiques or complaints. No one from Sky to Wind to even the Old Man seemed able to get him to change, and I was just scared that something might happen if I left him like that. Doesn’t change the fact that I was wrong, so for that, I’m sorry for all the shit I gave you.”

“You’ll apologize to the rest of them too?”

Rolling his eyes and giving a sarcastic salute, Legend mockingly drones, “Yes, sir, Captain, sir.”

Warriors responds with a light chuckle, “So I guess that means we’re even?”

“Sure, whatever that means.” Legend gives his casual snark as a sign that things are now normal between them. But against his expectations, Warriors goes in for a hug.

“Missed you, vet.”

Though shocked for a moment, Legend slowly returns the embrace. “Missed you too Captain.” The hug lifts a huge weight off Legend’s chest; maybe reconciling with the rest of the Chain is actually possible. One could hope, right?

A sudden knock on the door interrupts the two heroes who quickly separate out of slight embarrassment. Soon a familiar voice echoes through the room, one that Legend had to confront eventually.

“Cap, you there? Is Legend awake yet?”

The Hero of Twilight was waiting for him.

Chapter Text

When it comes to pure physical strength, Twilight is second to none, even among his brothers. With items out of the picture, Twilight can easily overpower Time, despite his height and weight advantage, and the others would hardly put up a fight. In theory, Twilight should win any contest of might. . .

“So, how the hell is he still standing?”

Gripping his sword with both hands, Twilight swings his blade with full strength toward the Hero of Legend who raises his weapon defensively.

CLANG!

The sound of clashing metal echoes through the forest canopy as the momentum of the impact sends Legend skidding backward, but the hero remains on his feet.

“Is that it, Rancher?!” The Veteran taunts and relaxes his posture. “What can you even protect with swordsmanship like that?”

Though his blood boils with rage, Twilight remains cool-headed; Legend is not an opponent he can attack recklessly, and while he’s leagues stronger, Legend’s experience helps close the gap.

“Still, my strength and techniques should keep me ahead. And my physique means he’s probably more tired with me. With just a sword, Legend should be no match.” Twilight takes a firm running posture, then sprints towards his opponent.

Seeing the Rancher approaching, Legend pulls his sword to an upright position before his torso, channels energy into his blade, and closes his eyes in anticipation of an attack.

As soon as he enters the vet’s potential striking range, Twilight rolls behind Legend and quickly transitions into a jump, attacking the vet’s back while airborne to complete the Shade’s third hidden skill: the Back Slice.

“We’ve been fighting for nearly ten minutes now. Legend’s in no condition to parry this: it’s my victory.” Twilight’s heart pounds with the excitement of a successful hunt. He’s about to prove to the vet that losing Wild made him lost he hasn’t lost his edge.

However, with a brief flash of steel, Legend’s swift blade arcs through the air, shattering Twilight’s delusion, and his signature spin attack intercepts the Rancher’s sword.

TANG!

The collision sends both heroes speeding in opposite directions: Twilight flies back a few feet before easily landing on his feet while Legend tumbles for a dozen feet before rolling onto his knees. Despite panting like crazy, the smaller hero still finds the energy to jab at his opponent.

“Listen well, farmhand. I don’t care if you have the strength of ten men; swordsmanship is about skill—something animals don’t have!” Legend gets up and assumes the same posture as earlier. “Divine beast, my ass. Now, you’re just a wild mutt sinking its teeth into everyone and everything!”

“No. NO! I’m p-perfectly fine. I h-have everything un-under control. Breeeeethe. I am a Hylain. I can protect everyone! I am no beast. Right, Midna?"

“Perhaps ‘wild mutt’ is putting it lightly.” Legend mercilessly continues. “At this point, you’re a rabid dog that delights in cannibalizing its own pack!”

Twilight snaps.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!” The vet’s sneers erase any semblance of stoicism Twilight was holding on to, and all the swirling emotions he’s bottled up the last three months explode outwards. Anger and grief in equal measure cloud the hero’s mind and memory. He is no longer in Faron Woods thousands of years into the past; he’s on the Bridge of Eldin, and King Bulbin’s standing right there. It’s life and death, and he must survive. Not for himself, but for Wild Ordon. To save his Cub Collin.

Abandoning any attempts at precision, Twilight madly rushes towards his enemy. So blinding is his rage that he rushes past Sky, hardly noticing the Chosen’s attempts to stop him. All the Rancher sees is red, and anything in his path will fall.

For his part, Legend remains surprisingly calm. Used to dealing with monsters many times his strength and size, Twilight abandoning skill and reason only works in the vet’s favor. Well, it should have.

As soon as Legend’s within his range, Twilight begins to swing wildly and erratically—each attack faster and stronger than the last. At those speeds, Legend could only dodge so many without parrying, but blocking such powerful attacks without sustaining damage proves difficult.

Swoosh, Tsing, TANG! Woosh, BANG! Fwoosh, CLANG!

With each passing moment, Legend’s strength wanes while Twilight’s fury grows. Five seconds into their deadly dance, the sheer swiftness and frequency of slashes force Legend to block every other attack, and while normally he could keep up with that level of speed, the pure strength within each swing batters his arm through his defenses. The exchange of blades generates so much wind that leaves and other debris on the forest floor are blown upwards, and Legend’s hat flies off his head. At this point, any outside interference would be dangerous to both Legend and Twilight, so all the rest of the Chain could do is anxiously watch until a clear victor emerges and hope that neither hero gets hurt.

As if acting out a plan, Legend gradually walks backward toward the edge of the clearing, and the enraged Rancher unconsciously takes the bait. Once Legend’s within about five feet of the closest tree, he suddenly deflects Twilight’s blade to the ground and exploits the opening he’s made by jumping back to the nearest tree; however, a Legend lands on an unforeseen pebble and slips, landing on his back—his head propped up by the base of the tree.

Like a predator moved only by instinct, Twilight takes full advantage of this opening. Pausing for a breath, the wolf—fangs sharp and bloodthirsty— pounces on its prone quarry, and moving his sword with practiced precision, the hero calls upon the skill that killed the King of Thieves—Ending Blow.

But. . .

The Hero of Legend is the most accomplished among Hylia’s chosen, and his intuition, honed by years of fighting, gleams a seemingly insignificant detail that might save his life: the Master Sword is a bit longer than the Ordon Sword. And without hesitation, the veteran yells,

“HIYAAH!”

With mere millimeters separating his torso from impalement, Legend slashes his weapon upwards with all his strength and aims for the crossguard on Twilight’s blade

KRRRANG!

The clamor of crashing metal and breaking bones booms through the quiet air; then. . .

. . .thud.

A chipped Ordon sword clatters across the forest floor, and the combatants’ exhausted pants break the still silence. All the anger and rage drain out of Twilight’s mind, leaving only emptiness and exhaustion.

“Haaah— huuuhhaaah.”

Legend’s strained breathing pulls Twilight back into reality, and the blurred minute of rage-fueled hysteria floods his mind all at once. The Rancher looks down to see Legend pinned under his knees and his hands pressed on the vet’s chest. At an initial glance, the smaller hero seems mostly unharmed, but the pungent scent of iron stings Twilight’s nose and draws his gaze toward the bottom-right corner of his vision. There, the fruit of his handiwork greets him: Legend’s wrist— bloodied, twisted, and bruised—weakly grips the hilt of the gilded Master Sword while small bits of bone poke through the gaps of torn flesh.

Twilight jumps back in horror, barely containing his tears and vomit, allowing Legend to gasp for air.

“Haa. . . haaa. . .You really tried to kill me, huh?”

“No! I-I didn’t mean! . . . it wasn’t—

“In the end, your sword can’t protect anything. YOU can’t protect anything. All you can do is destroy, and it will break you.”

Try as he might, Twilight can’t deny the vet’s words, nor could he stop the flood of silent tears that burst from his eyes. In the background, Twilight hears the muffled footsteps of his approaching brothers, but he can’t face them. Not now, and especially not like this. A subconscious impulse overtakes the hero and manifests through an unwitting transformation.

Unaware of his current appearance, Wolfie quickly flees into the dark woods, his four legs outpacing any attempts to catch him. The scents, the sights, they’re unknown but familiar. Yet to Wolfie, they all blur into an ineligible sludge as he speeds past; faster, faster, faster—

“Twi”

He hears the call of the sacred forest and runs even faster.

“Twi!”

It leads him to the Sealed Grounds, to the Sacred Grove—the hero's legacy. Hero. Hyrule and Ordon need a hero. They’re calling for him to be a hero. No. He can’t. Him, a hero? How could he? How did he? He never should’ve—

“TWI!”

A firm grip shakes Twilight back to the present. Wearing a worried expression, Captain stands in the well-furnished doorframe.

“Hey, Twi, are you alright?"

That’s right. He came to apologize for hurting Legend. Well, hurting everyone, really. No matter how much Time assures him, it’s his fault that Legend’s injured, that their entire group was strained. If he’s going to apologize and make up for his behavior, the first step is acknowledging his failure.

“Y-yeah. I’m good.” Twilight nods. “Nothing’s gunna change if I don’t talk to him.”

Warriors gives him the biggest smile he’s seen in months.

“Aye, that’s the spirit! Good luck, farmhand.”
He pats Twilight on the back and confidently struts off with his scarf majestically dragging behind him. Twilight takes a moment to breathe, to steady his nerves.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Walking through the door, Twilight catches Legend nervously fiddling with his hair like he’s embarrassed about how it looks without his hat. The Rancher’s relieved to see the Vet looking much better compared to yesterday. Seeing his bruised, unconscious body shook Twilight with absolute fear, so this relief compels him to act before an expected awkwardness settles in: Twilight quickly pounces on the injured hero and takes him into a rather fluffy embrace.

At first, Legend tenses his body—more out of instinctual fear than any malice—but he quickly relaxes as the wet sensation of Twilight’s tears dripping onto his tunic signals the wolf’s benign intentions. Soon Legend is rubbing the back of his brother’s head as Twilight sobs out a flood of salty water and half-formed apologies. The two stayed like that for a while, until Twilight finally calms down.

“Geez, you’re too big for a sad puppy, no?” Legend teases as Twilight slowly recomposes himself.

“I-I, no. What I meant to say was—”

“Save it, Rancher. Your body did all the talking,” Legend chuckles. “I always knew your muscles were more eloquent than your tongue.

Twilight’s ears flush a deep crimson at Legend’s comment while he whispers:

“. . . Wind said the same thing when I asked him for advice. . .”

“The sailor, huh?” Legend’s face shifts to a more ponderous expression. “That kid’s got a keener eye for people than Wars’ does for ladies—eh, Rancher?” Legend elbows him.

Twilight sputters out a prolonger giggle at that left-field jab at Wars, and soon, both heroes devolve into outright cackling.

After a while, a comfortable silence wholly different from the awkwardness Twilight expected settles into the lull of conversation, and the two brothers simply enjoy each other’s company. Soon, though, Legend seems to shift uncomfortably before turning to Twilight with a serious expression.

“Hey, Twi, I. . .I need to apologize too. Not for what I did but for what I said.”

Twilight waves his hands in disapproval, “No, you don’t have to apologize for saying the right thing.”

Even though he didn’t say anything wrong, the look Legend’s giving him suggests otherwise.

The vet buries his head in his hands. “Twi, there’s no way you just said that.” Legend angrily jolts up and shouts. “What I said then was fucked up! What I called you was fucked up! Even if there’s a kernel of truth in there, no one can call such venomous words ‘right,’ okay?”

“But—”

“No! I am not arguing with you on this. There’s no way calling you a cannibalistic hound is right by any stretch of the imagination.” Legend points to Twilight’s chest. “Even if you don’t always act like a hero, even if you don’t ever feel like a hero, you can’t change your heart nor your past: You chose to be a hero. You chose to answer that call, time and time and time again. And in the future, you’ll answer that call, until the very day you die.”

“Vet. . .”

“So even if I fucking hate this job sometimes—a lot of the time—I’ll answer that damn call every time. ‘Cause we’re both heroes.”

Twilight is stunned into silence. “How did he know? That I—”

“How’d I know what you’re going through?” Legend smirks at Twilight’s shocked expression. “Come on, Rancher, I told you. Your body speaks volumes. To your unspoken question, I just sort of guessed.”

“Guessed?”

“Yeah. I-I saw it in your eyes during our ‘duel.’ It was only for a brief moment when you nearly took my head from behind, but. . . I felt this deep sadness within you.” Legend looks toward the sunset through his window. “A familiar sadness.”

Twilight closes his eyes and takes a few moments to digest what Legend just said, and once it clicks, Twilight opens his eyes in mild surprise. His gaze is met with sympathetic melancholy exuding from the vet’s face.

“You too?” Twilight whispers in hushed tones. “You’re also. . .forever separated?”

Legend gives a defeated huff. “Separated. . .I guess that’s one way of putting it. Let’s just say that I’ve lost a lot of people, and I know how that affected me in the past.” The vet stays silent for a bit before continuing. “I saw myself in your behavior, Twi—the violent and angry hero who trashed his own reputation, spat on the goodwill of his friends, and hurt everyone and everything around him. Including himself. I just don’t want to see you destroy yourself like I nearly did.”
Twilight let this revelation sink in a bit before responding, “How’d you deal with it.”

Legend gives a light chuckle. “Ravio. . . Don’t tell him ‘cause it’ll inflate his ego, but he helped me process it all: the trauma from my first adventure and the heartbreak from my fourth.”

The vet divulges no more details, but the point gets across.

“Hmmm, so what you’re telling me, vet, is to get a boyfriend?”

“WHAT! NO! T-that’s not it at all!” Legend’s face blushes with a deep scarlet. “Sides, we’re just roommates! Okay? R-O-O-M-M-A-T-E-S.”

Twilight gives a hearty laugh.

“Yeah, okay. Roommates. Got it.”

Legend sighs, “Geez. I pour out my heart for you and this is what I get?” He straightens his posture. “Well, at least it seems like you get what I mean if you could make jokes like that.”

Twilight straightens his face to a more serious smile. “Yeah, it’ll probably take a while, but. . . I think I understand. Should be easier with the rest of the Chain around.”

“At least the point about companionship stuck.”

Knock, Knock. Creeeak.

A couple of quick knocks followed by the creaking of an opened door halt the conversation and draw their eyes to the doorframe. They see Four—his eyes shining a brilliant blue—leaning confidently against the doorpost.
“Yo, Vet! You seem to be doing pretty well. Think ya good enough to have dinner with us?”

Legend pats himself down like he’s testing the durability of his own flesh. “I seem well enough to eat at the table, as long Ravio doesn’t make me pick apples.”

“Oh don’t worry. That’s the Rancher’s job anyway. Well, it was before he disappeared for an entire evening.”

A bit embarrassed, Twilight gives a silent nod of apology, to which Four responds by waving his hands in dismissal.

“Eh, it’s fine. You two seem to have finally made up, so it’s not time wasted. Just help Rulie with the finishing touches, yeah?” Assuming a positive response, the Smithy turns and walks away, his muttered complaints about Time’s continued culinary catastrophes echoing through the hallway.

Twilight stands from the bedside. “It seems they need more than I’d expected. You wanna see what mess the Old Man made this time?”

“Ha, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Legend gives his signature snarky grin, and gets out of bed, careful to not aggravate any of his new wounds.

Soon, the two run off to catch up to the Smithy, poke fun at Time, and hopefully enjoy the literal fruits of Legend’s labor. Assuming Hyrule didn’t screw up the recipe.

Chapter Text

“I should’ve been more careful,” Wind thinks. It’s more obvious now that he’s dripping wet, covered in mud, and completely surrounded by enhanced darknuts. In all fairness, it’s not just him being careless. Four’s Hyrule is relatively tame, and they just took out a camp of black-blooded monsters a week ago. No one expected any more dangerous encounters, especially not one this bad. “Four’s Black Knight darknuts are no joke! And what the hell was that new water(?) wizzrobe?! He summoned a fucking wave in the middle of Hyrule Field, and now I have to fight alone and wet and—WOAH!” Wind sidesteps, narrowly dodging a powerful thrust from a darknut, which stumbles slightly because of the mud and its momentum.

“Shit! C’mon, Wind. Focus!” Time slows as adrenaline pumps through the hero’s veins, sharpening his mind. “Two foes ahead, three behind. I’m surrounded,” Wind observes. “They’re closing the distance, and those shields got me trapped. If I don’t do something fast, I’m—”

Wind’s desperate eyes catch a brief flash of steel a few feet past his ambushers. A half-dead darknut, armor peeled and crumbling, clumsily crawls toward its discarded sword. Just above the weapon is Twilight, stuck in a sword lock with another enemy.

“The Rancher hasn’t noticed.” Wind realizes. “He’s about to get skewered and he doesn’t even know! Think! We’re both gonna die, so fucking THINK!”

Wind’s frenzied brain lands on one solution. “It’s risky, even for me, but if one of us is gonna die anyways. . .” His mind made up, the young pirate closes his eyes and readies his stance. A fierce gold light pulses from the Phantom Sword, and the stormy winds stall as if waiting for their hero.

“Hiiyah!”

With an ear-piercing cry, the Hero of Winds becomes a maelstrom of light and steel. The golden spiral clashes against darkened shields, their stalwart wielders blown back by the hurricane’s might. One by one, the black knights— their protection gone and formation broken—kneel to the hero’s strength.

Wind wastes no time. Carrying his momentum forward, the sailor slides through the opening of his own making. His spin now stalling, Wind leaps high into the air. At the peak of his jump, Wind brings his sword overhead, preparing a devastating jump attack. And falling from the rainy skies above, Wind bears the full brunt of his attack down onto the ambushing darknut, severing the monster’s right shoulder from its torso. Wind lands with aplomb and dislodges the Phantom Sword, dripping with black blood, from the monster’s corpse, which soon whithers into malicious dust.

“Make sure they’re dead next time, Twi!” Wind teasingly chastises the Rancher, whose blade is still very much locked with another darknut.

“Yeah, thanks for the help!” Twilight responds with a grunt as he staggers his opponent with a shove, ending the blade lock. Then, in one fluid motion, the hero knocks the monster’s shield aside and decapitates the monster with a slash.

“I’ll hit ‘em harder next time,” Twilight remarks as he positions himself back-to-back with Wind. “Nice moves back there, by the way.”

“Just don’t get yourself killed next time,” Wind jabs. “Sides, grouping up is probably the right move here.”

Twilight nods in agreement when a sudden flash and boom of lightning from across the battlefield grab both heroes’ attention.

“The Traveler’s thunder spell,” Twilight remarks with concern. “We gotta get there fast if he had to use his ace.”

“Yeah, but,” Wind turns to face the battered darknuts that survived his Hurricane Spin, “we gotta kill these tough bitches first.”

Twilight gives his silent approval, and the two heroes take a defensive stance, brandishing their bloody blades at the charging armored foes. Once in range, Twilight matches the dark knights blow for blow, his immense strength staggering the monsters every time blades clashed. Nimble and quick, Wind attacks the gaps in his opponents’ defenses, broken by his companion, and deflects any haphazard retaliation with his trusty shield. However, the heroes were outnumbered five to two, and with every passing moment, their advantage slowly waned.

“Shit!” Wind panted as he ducked under a fatal slash threatening to separate his head from his shoulders. The sailor stumbles back into a defensive position next to the equally exhausted Twilight, who fell another darknut before retreating into safer ground.

Though cornered, the two manage to kill four more infected darknuts, but fresh reinforcements prevent the drained heroes from reveling in their victory. As the new monsters surround them, Wind and Twilight—despite their exhaustion—again raise their bloodstained blades in courageous defiance, ready to slay another wave of powerful enemies like the heroes they are. But before either could fight to their untimely death, the unmistakable light of the Master Sword pierces through the stormy darkness, and a massive beam of divine might cleaves through the dark knights in front of Twilight. Simultaneously, projections of the Magical Sword penetrate deep into the remaining monsters’ sides, allowing Wind and Twilight to finish them off. As the storm sweeps away the ashes of the once-resilient darknuts, two familiar silhouettes emerge from the chaos.

“Wind, Twilight! Thank Hylia, you guys are alright!” Hyrule happily proclaims as he rushes from Sky’s side toward his two battered companions.

“Yeah, you—cough—you guys looked like you had some trouble,” Sky, trying to catch up with the giddy Hyrule, puffs out between breaths.

At the sight of the Traveler and Hylia’s Chosen Hero, Wind and Twilight— finally given some reprieve—relax their postures. But before the heroes could reunite, two mummified turquoise arms break through the ground, causing the two running heroes to lightly stumble. As the creature’s head surfaces, Hyrule and Sky lock eyes at whatever tripped them, and Wind’s face twists in horror at the recognition of the new foe.

“SKY! HYRULE! RUN!”

But Wind’s panicked shout comes a moment too late. The eyes of the half-buried redead shine bright with dark crimson hatred, and a blood-curdling scream deafens the four heroes. Sky and Hyrule, the two closest to the redead, begin to twitch and spasm uncontrollably. The Master Sword falls unceremoniously into the mud, her divine form now stained with blood and grime, with Hyrule’s Magical Sword meeting a similar fate. Both the Magical and Hylian shields alike abandon their helpless wielders, paralyzed by the redead’s curse. To make matters worse, many more arms—this time, the bone-white limbs of stalfos—erupt from the muddy ground, signaling another wave of enemy reinforcements.

The rapidly worsening situation snaps the two unaffected heroes out of shock, and both quickly leap into action.

“Twi! Cover me!” Wind shouts, sprinting toward their vulnerable friends. Twilight gives a silent and unseen nod as he pulls out his crossbow, quickly firing at the still-screaming redead. The bolt whizzes past Wind’s cheek and plunges into the head of its target, which falls over silent from the wound.

Unfazed, Wind deftly slides past the growing number of stalfos and into a prime position to defend Sky and Hyrule from the hoard’s onslaught.

Shield; slash. Parry; thrust. Block; bash.

Unwilling to risk his friends’ safety, Wind abandons his normal evasive fighting style and opts to stand his ground with defensive maneuvers and opportunistic counterattacks. Twilight’s arrival alleviates some of Wind’s burden, but the sailor simply lacks the physique to sustain such physically demanding combat. Soon, his defense begins to falter.

“Shit,” Wind tiredly huffs. “It’s prolly only been like thirty seconds bu—“

CLANK!

His blade intercepts another attack aimed at Hyrule—“but why the hell is it taking so long? They should be good by now!” The sailor complains while brushing aside his hair damp from the persistent rain. “I ca-can’t keep this up m-much longer. At this rate—

“WIND!” Snapping to the source of the scream, Wind’s gaze catches the raised blade of a darknut, mere moments from cleaving the young pirate in half.

“Fu—“

And the world went white.

Chapter Text

Zelda thought that sealing the Calamity for a century and restoring the Master Sword for many more would prepare her for everything. She thought wrong.

“Clearly I don’t know Link well enough.” Zelda sighs to herself as she helplessly watches her chosen knight repeatedly slingshot himself from one end of Lookout Landing to the other with his new fuse contraption.

“Good to see Linky’s new Zonai sleeve working as intended!” Purah happily chirps next to the exasperated princess. “Of course, any collaboration between me and Mineru was bound to succeed. Ultrahand took a bit of effort to replicate, but Fuse worked in a snap!” The sheikah researcher beams while happily scribbling in her notebook. “All that’s left is to check Autobuild and Ascend, and then the pre-check for the Zonai sleeve will be complete!”

While testing the ultimate fusion of Zonai and Sheikah tech excites Zelda, she can only worry at the prospect of returning Rauru’s gifts to Link. If the rumors surrounding Hyrule’s two-time hero are true, then the princess can only shudder at the monster she, Robbie, and Purah just unleashed. Speaking of which. . .

“Purah?” Zelda turns to face her friend. “Tell me. Why did you give Link the fantastic idea of fusing a refurbished guardian leg to a stick?”

Immediately and shamelessly, Purah answers, “I needed to know if Sheikah tech—excluding ancient arrowheads— was compatible with Zonai tech.” She then motions towards Link who, over the course of their brief conversation, swung his way to the top of the Skyview tower. “And as you can see, it worked with a click!”

Zelda sighs. “Let me rephrase my question. Did you expect such a fusion to result in. . . in something that can do that?!” The sounds of Link’s maniacal laughter and Josha’s worried shouts echo in the background as if to prove the princess’s point.

“It blows all my expectations out of the water!” Purah joyously exclaims. “Not even my genius expected it to work this well.”

“Well, your ‘genius’ just created Lookout Landing’s biggest attraction and newest problem.” Zelda scowls as people, drawn by the sight of another unidentified flying object, begin to crowd around the tower. “And given how easily his weapons break, Link’s now a walking-er-flying hazard.”

“You worry too much, princess. There’s no way that anything I make will break so easily. Barring explosives, of course.” Purah reassures Zelda. “Besides, just think of the possibilities! With just a bit of tweaking, we could finally have portable scaffolding and build some infrastructure around that floating castle. After all, Castle Town isn’t much of a castle town without the castle!”

Zelda could not help but agree with the Sheikah researcher. All of Hyrule underwent an explosive expansion in the year after the Demon King’s defeat. Lookout Landing especially bloomed into a fully-fledged settlement, now stretching as far north as the old central square, and the new outer walls border the edges of the Passeri Greenbelt. In the wake of this rapid expansion, people from all regions and races flocked to the new center of the recovering kingdom. Even the invisible koroks, ever mischievous and curious, sometimes come to hide from Hetsu (at least according to Link). Castle Town—the former capital and once guardian-infested wasteland—was now just a small subdivision within the growing metropolis as the increasing importance of Zonite pulled people and business towards the Hyrule Field chasm. Hateno Village will always be her (and Link’s) home, but responsibilities kept her in Lookout Landing more often than not. At least Sheikah technology made it so that Hateno is always just one warp away, so the whole situation isn’t so bad. Besides, the prospect of finally restoring the castle after decades of decay is exhilarating! Just thinking about somehow melding Hudson’s signature blocky style with the grandiose architecture of old makes her giggle. On the more serious side, she’ll probably need to employ Zora and Goron builders, who are more familiar with stone, to restore the castle. Oh! And maybe she can borrow some motifs from King Rauru and Queen Sonia’s time. Surely they won’t mind. And maybe she could add some Sheikah and Lurelin styles too! And! And. . .

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

As numerous plans form and swirl within the princess’s mind, her chosen knight also spins and swings ever faster around the Skyview Tower. Eventually, the Hero tires, and he soon perches atop the tower’s hatch to rest and take in the view.

The people drawn in by his airshow soon return to their busy daily lives. Nowadays, Lookout Landing’s a lot more like a town than the fort, and Hyrule’s finally feeling more like a kingdom than an inhabited wildland. Though, the change has eaten into Link’s free time, and he doesn’t get to cut loose as often as before.

“Wooh! That was the most fun I’ve had all month! And it’s all thanks to this thing. . .” Link extends the arm of his new fusion to get a closer look at it.

“Hmmm. . . This new fusion’s a lot like the Hookshot they used, but more versatile. Looks more like Twi’s than Wind’s, Time’s, or Sky’s. . . .” The Champion pauses at the thought.

“Geez, I haven’t thought of them in a while. Not since I got this guy back,” Link thinks while flailing his restored arm sporting new Zonai markings courtesy of Rauru.

“Now that I think about it, they didn’t cross my mind too often, even before the Upheaval. No, ever since we started rebuilding in earnest. I thought of them briefly when I found their tunics underground or in the Depths, but after a while, those sets just became one among many. . .” Link settles into a more comfortable and less precarious sitting position. “I wonder how they’re doing.<.em>”

The Champion's mind goes silent. Worried thoughts sink and coalesce into an anxious lump in his stomach. Fear churns his gut; ignorance twists his insides. . . Link wants to puke.

“No, they’ll be fine. They ARE fine. Because they’re HEROES. So they’ll be okay. . . Wherever or whenever they are.”

Link shakes his head and sighs. “Oh Hylia,” he looks upward, “you’ll keep them safe, right?”

Not waiting for a reply, Link slaps both sides of his face and quickly stands up. “Whelp, it’s not like moping up here would do much. Time to see what else Zel needs me to do. . .”

The hero stutters as his gaze lands on the hills of the normally empty Hyrule Field. Keyword: Normally.

“Wha-What in the world?”

A thick, dark fog rolls down the side of the distant Scout’s Hill as unnatural mist blankets the countryside. It reminds Link of the curse that once plagued the Koroks during the Upheaval, and the mere thought of that memory makes his survival instincts scream as the shadowy mist steadily crawls toward Lookout Landing. Stowing his fear, Link tries to pull out the Purah Pad before realizing he’s long since returned it to Zelda.

“Damn it! I have to at least warn Hoz.”

The hero wastes no time and paraglides off the tower, calling forth Tulin’s Vow while airborne. The summoned winds quickly propel Link to the settlement’s outer walls where the Monster-Control Crew prepare for their Hyrule Field excursions. Hoz himself was consulting with his advisors before Link’s sudden appearance derailed their conversation.

“Ah, Link! What brings Hylia’s chosen Dragonslayer here? More of your hellish training perhaps?”

“Hoz!” Link grabs the captain’s shoulders, shaking them in worry. “Hoz, something’s coming from Hyrule field! Barricade the town. Get all the citizens inside, and gather all the soldiers—”

“Wait wait, hold on.” Confused, Hoz asks, "Back up for a second. What exactly is coming?”

Annoyed, Link dramatically points off into the distance. In the few minutes since he first saw the ominous fog, it has since swallowed the area around Whistling Hill, its summit only barely peaking above the darkness.

“I don’t know what that is, but do you think that it’s safe or natural?” Link asks, his words oozing with sarcasm and urgency.

“I suppose not.” Hoz eyes the fog with a mix of scrutiny and surprise. “Alright, I will do what you ask, but many ZST members and civilians are by the chasm. I’ll need to send some men to them.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be heading out anyways, so I’ll warn them along the way.”

“Along the way? But, Link, is it not best you stay here to maximize our defenses? Not to mention your own safety!”

Link shakes his head. “Nah, Riverside’s just over Whistling Hill. I have to make sure they’re okay.”

“I see peace hasn’t dulled your recklessness.” The captain sighs in defeat. “Well, in that case, it is best you head there immediately. My steed should be right by the gate, just down that ladder behind you,” Hoz gives Link a snarky smirk. “I assume you’d prefer horseback since you’re in such a rush.”

Slightly blushing from embarrassment, Link quickly thanks Hoz and heads for the gate. He finds the horse, hastily mounts it, and rides off into the dangerous unknown.

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

Meanwhile, Zelda was having quite an engaging discussion inside the strategy room with Purah, Muzu, and Buliara about potential plans for redesigning Hyrule Castle when the emergency alarm bells incessantly blared across all of Lookout Landing and immediately halted their conversation.

“The alarm! Is there an attack?” Buliara proclaims in worry.

“Bah!” Muzu scowls. “One of those Zonai researchers likely exploded another one of those ‘canons’ that you Shiekah are making.”

Slighted, Purah shoots back, “Hey! We don’t mess up that often. Besides, the alarm system I made wouldn’t sound for something like that!”

“Perhaps, for once, you have made a mistake.”

“Grrrr. . .That’s—”

“ENOUGH!” Zelda shouts. “Regardless of the reason, the bells are ringing. We should at least see why.”

Not waiting for the rest, the princess stands and heads to the door, but as she reaches for the handle, the door violently slides open.

“Emergency!” Josha shouts right in Zelda’s face. “Ah, sorry princess. Wait! I mean—

“It’s okay, Josha.” Zelda calmly replies before continuing, “What’s wrong? You seem quite worried.”

“Ah, right! The Monster-Control Crew’s calling for an evacuation. Everyone by the tower is being escorted into the bunker! I’m not really sure why, but I thought I should tell you all.”

“I see. Let us head out at once,” Zelda commands the group. “For such drastic actions to be taken, something quite terrible must have happened.”

The five of them soon rush out onto the main deck Lookout Landing HQ and find a frenzy of shouting and movement throughout the central square. Guided by soldiers, people pour into the emergency shelter while a familiar face is barking orders at both his men and uncooperative civilians.

“Gralens!” Zelda shouts to the Monster-Control Crew’s leader. “Can you come up here and explain the situation?”

Turning his head toward Zelda and recognizing his liege, Gralens yells a few more instructions before running up to the deck and kneeling before the princess.

Though uncomfortable with the gesture, Zelda wastes no time voicing her complaints. “Stand, and inform me of what’s going on.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” Gralens rises to a straight posture and gives a salute. “The evacuation and mobilization were done according to the Dragonslayer’s orders, relayed to me by Captain Hoz.”

“Link? But why?”

“He spotted a mysterious black fog approaching from the south and gave Hoz orders. As for what that fog is, neither we nor the hero knows, but it was enough a cause for concern that he immediately rode off to Riverside Sta—I mean—Plaza to ensure its safety”

Zelda rubs her temples in concern. “By Hylia, my knight is certainly too courageous and selfless for his own good. Oh, and Gralens, while I do trust Link, you did indeed confirm this unnatural phenomenon yourselves?”

“We did, your highness.”

“Good. Purah,” Zelda faces her friend. “Can you observe this fog from your telescope?”

“It’ll be done in a snap, princess! My new modifications allow it to turn, so it shouldn’t be an issue. I assume you wish to know the full reach of this ‘fog,’ right? I’ll get Josha and Atmus to plot it out on a map for convenience’s sake.”

Zelda gives an impressed grin. “I am so glad to have your help again, Purah.”

“As do I, princess.” Purah beams a massive smile as she heads up to her telescope; meanwhile. Josha scurries into the strategy room to gather the necessary cartography supplies.

Now turning to her other companions, the princess continues. “Gralens, thank you for the report. Please tell some of Hoz’s men to gather at the southern gate and send some Rito scouts to Hyrule Field Chasm. Check for any stragglers and make sure everyone, including the scouts, stays out of harm’s way. If you somehow run into Link, give him a piece of my mind. Otherwise, continue the evacuation efforts afterward. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, your highness.”

“Good. Buliara, can you arm the canons near the walls facing Hyrule Field? Both Gerudo and Zonai, please. Also, leave some of your warriors to guard the shelter and send the rest to bolster our defenses around the southern gates”

The two given orders nod and head off to complete their assignments.

“As for you Muzu,” Zelda takes out her Purah Pad and hands it to the Zora elder. “Take this, gather the sages, and quickly return here with them. Oh, and when you’re in Rito Village relay this message to Teba: If it’s ready, mobilize the Stormwind Fleet and bring it here. When you all arrive, seek out Purah immediately.”

Surprised at his orders, Muzu widens his eyes. “My, my, princess. You’re taking this ‘fog’ rather seriously. Especially to entrust with me something so precious.”

“Yes, well, half of it is because I trust Link. This ‘fog’ must be quite bad to make him run off without even telling me first. But, at the same time, my intuition is telling me that something big might happen soon, and the last time I felt this way was the days before the Upheaval. When we first encountered the Gloom.”

Muzu’s face contorts with concern. “You mean to tell me that ‘fog’ is on par with the Upheaval and its Gloom?”

Zelda loudly sighs, “I do not know, Muzu. I pray that I am just overreacting, but I will not be taking chances this time around.”

“I see. Then I will carry out your orders posthaste.”

“Thank you, Muzu. Please hurry.”

The elderly Zora grunts before warping to fulfill his mission.

“As for myself,” Zelda plays with the Secret Stone around her neck, “It is high time I defend my kingdom with my own strength.”

Chapter Text

“I hate to admit it, but it’s been a while since I’ve felt this excited.”

Link knows that Hyrule is in danger again and that he might get separated from Zelda again—which would really suck—but he can’t help himself.

Of course, he’s worried; he hasn’t forgotten the trauma that came with dying and coming back to life, nor the oppressive isolation that followed. Yet, despite all that baggage, Link has to admit that he loves the excitement of adventuring and especially the thrill of combat. The unbridled joy of discovery, the unrelenting rush of fighting, he can’t get enough of either. And the adrenaline from that duel has yet to fully leave him, and as much as he hates the Demon King for what he did, Link couldn’t help but acknowledge that bastard’s martial prowess.

A slight movement in the dark fog snaps Link back to reality.

“Geez, I must be getting sloppy if I can mentally check out in a situation like this.” the Champion chides himself as he pulls on the reins to stop his steed and to assess his surroundings.

“So far, this fog’s just creepy, and nothing showed up from where I came.”

Link looks back at the brightbloom trail leading back to Hyrule Field Chasm. He managed to get everyone present out safely, and since no one was currently in the Depths, he luckily doesn’t have to worry about that.

“If I had Autobuild, I’d just plomp a big bloom onto a flying bike and call it a day, but. . .” Link soothes Hoz’s horse, “riding a horse just feels way more natural to me. ‘Sides, this Shiekah light-shield not too shabby as a light source,” he says while pulling one of Purah’s Zonai-Sheikah prototypes.

Link slowly coerces his steed into a light trot as he shines his shield around him for signs of the movement he saw earlier.

“These trees look weirdly translucent. And those birds are just standing there.”

Out of pure habit, the Champion draws his Savage Lynel Bow and shoots at the fowl, but his arrows whizz straight through the see-through birds, which remain unmoving like they’re frozen in time.

“Huh. That’s weird. The fog’s probably causing all this, but if that’s true, why am I and Hoz’s horse fine?”

As Link ponders on this conundrum, an object streaks through the air towards his steed, its Sheikah armor shining a brilliant blue as it deflects the lethal arrow. His horse bucks wildly, but Link manages to calm it right before another arrow flies straight past his ear.

“Damn it, where are you?!”

With the illusion of safety broken, Link drives his senses into overdrive as his horse picks up speed to avoid any more shots.

“There!” Link locks eyes with the assailant, a heavily armored figure holding a Royal Guard’s Bow and mounted atop a Stalhorse. A pair of abyssal black orbs glare at the hero for a moment before the dark rider kicks his steed and flees.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Link draws his Savage Lynel Bow and fires five arrows fused with Ice Keese Eyeballs, the enhanced projectiles curving and honing onto their target. Against a normal monster, the battle ends here with the enemy frozen and vulnerable to any lethal attacks Link could muster, but this armored figure was no ordinary foe.

A monstrously large jousting lance materializes in the rider’s hand, and—

CRACK!

With the new weapon, it shatters the icy arrows midflight.

“. . . What?”

Link would’ve stared in disbelief if the creature didn’t also start charging full speed towards him.

“Oh fu—Hiiyah!”

Shocked, the hero whips and pulls on the reins, commanding his mount into a full gallop away from the speeding monster, but much to Link’s horror, the skeletal horse easily outpaces his own.

“Shit. Can’t outmaneuver it, can’t shoot at it, and can’t duel with it because that behemoth of a spear outranges all my current weapons.

“Really wish I had some dazzle fruit right now,” Link gives a defeated sigh. “Guess my only option is to fight on foot.”

Without slowing Hoz’s horse down, the Champion leaps off the back of the mount, and as he draws his bow midair, time slows to a crawl.

“When in doubt,” Link smirks ominously, “use bombs.”

Within only a couple of milliseconds, the trigger-happy hero unleashes a truly horrifying amount of bomb arrows which, upon impact, implode into a massive plume of heat and smoke. As the hero lands and time resumes, the armored monster stumbles out the ashy debris while holding a scrap of leather—probably the last remains of that Stalhorse.

“Tch, at least we’re on even footing now.” Link scowls as he dons the Hylain Shield and draws the Master Sword whose blade glows dim with a green tint.

“Not shining, huh? Guess this thing isn’t powered by Gloom or Malice.”

The Champion readies a defensive stance, waiting for an opening to activate his magic, but the monster doesn't move. It just stares at the hero with its void-like eyes as if surprised such a being could injure him. Normally, Link’s cautious nature would keep him locked in this staring contest for hours,

But. . .

“Damn it, I don’t have time for this! Riverside’s in danger with monsters like this running around.”

Without breaking eye contact, Link takes out a Mighty Zonai Bow and nocks an ancient arrow.

“Swat this, bastard!”

With a shout, the Champion lets loose the instant-kill projectile, but unlike with the homing ice arrows, the monster makes no attempt to stop the attack and, once hit, disintegrates spectacularly into shards of blue light.

“That. . . that was definitely strange.”

Still worried for the residents of Riverside Plaza, Link shakes off his uneasy feelings about that monster and whistles for Hoz’s horse, which gallops to his side in mere moments and nuzzles the hero.

“Who’s a good girl?” Link returns the horse’s affection. “I’ll give you apples later, ok? Let’s go save those people first.”

Wasting no more time, Link mounts his steed and gallops full speed towards Riverside Plaza, praying that he’s not too late.

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

[Half a Day Earlier]

“Gaaaah! Lugging this massive furnace around by myself is so tiring!” Robbie complains to the wind. “That damn Symin! ‘Oooh, the students need me’ or whatever stupid excuse he used to get out of this chore—AH!”

The elderly researcher groaned in pain as he stumbled for a bit.

“No good. Gotta rest these old bones, or as the saying goes.”

Setting his cargo carefully on the ground, Robbie grants his body a much-needed break as he plots out the next leg of his journey.

“Hoooh, okay. Gah, if I didn’t forget my pad at the inn in Riverside Plaza, I could’ve just crossed the bridge into Romani Plains!” Robbie furiously rubs his brow in frustration. “Ah, whatever. At least I have an excuse to check on the newly installed Device Dispensers, and surely Josha can wait another day or so.”

Thinking about Symin and Josha reminds him that these dumb apprentices of his work their mentor too hard.

[Josha’s past pleads echo in the researcher’s head as he recalls the conversation that lead him to this mess.

“C’mon, Glasses, you must’ve noticed too, right!?”

. . .

“Wait, really? The swordsman and the princess are—NO! Don’t distract me with your old man gossip!”

Josha blushed a deep crimson as she tried to regain her composure.

“T-The fo-forges in the Depth’s abandoned mines! They’re kinda like the Ancient Furnaces in your labs, no? Generators that use heat drawn from underground to harness energy into usable forms—see the similarity? There’s no way you or Doc didn’t notice! The only difference is that the Ancient Furnaces don’t need an input like Zonaite, but, now that I mention it, there’s an uncanny resemblance between Zonai charges and Ancient cores—isn’t there? That can’t be a coincidence!”

Josha was jumping up and down in excitement at this point, and knowing exactly where this conversation was going, Robbie sighed.

“Yah, yah, yah. Get to the point already.”

“Okay, okay! Sooooo, to prove this hypothesis, can we bring the furnace from the Akkala lab over here?”

“No.”

“Pleeeease? Pretty please?”

“You know that we can’t just move those furnaces willy-nilly. We can only extract Ancient Energy from certain places, and Lookout Landing is not one of them! At best, the furnace would last about a week before we need to refuel.”

“Pshhhhh.” Josha blew a raspberry. “I know you and the Doc had a lab not too far from here a century ago. You could get do the extraction there, and that place is much closer than Akkala.”

Remembering that lab brought back memories for Robbie. Some nostalgic, others not so much.

“No! That’s final.”

“Come on, Glasses!” His apprentice was basically begging at this point. “You must be tired asking Doc for her pad to warp to Hateno every time you need Ancient Energy, and ever since you moved here, that priceless artifact of Ancient technology’s just been collecting cobwebs. You might as well bring it here!”

Robbie ponders for a moment before finally giving in.

“Fine—

“YES!” Josha gave her signature wide smile.

“BUT! How do you suppose we move it? Doing so haphazardly will just break it.”

His apprentice gave him a knowing smirk that made the researcher wonder why he even bothered asking.

“You think I don’t know, Glasses? That collaboration between you, Doc, and the Fifth Sage, it was to make mechanical bodies like the one she had, but with Sheikah tech, wasn’t it? Not autonomous weapons like the Guardians, but piloted machines with applications outside of combat. Like, oh I don’t know, carrying heavy objects over large distances, perhaps?”]

Snapping back to the present, Robbie finishes planning his journey and takes a few moments to admire his creation.

Its ephemeral, Zonai-inspired circuitry pulsing with the signature bright blue of Ancient energy, the Sheikah construct towers over its creator—easily two or three times taller than the average Hylian. Its massive metallic frame just about matches its monstrous inspiration in build and intimidation. Yet neither Robbie nor his admittingly talented partner have escaped from the Guardians’ shadow. This construct, a union of Shiekah and Zonai technology, is not autonomous nor a weapon: its body lacks any weaponry or the flexibility necessary for combat, and it requires a pilot to be operational. No, this construct was designed for the transport of large and heavy construction materials like wood, stone or metal over various distances. And in it’s maiden voyage, it seems Robbie can count another successful invention among many.

“I really am a genius, improving on the designs of Lady Mineru and that crazy tinkerer. Like, who thought controls on the outside was a good idea? Are you asking to fall out? Only our reckless hero could handle a schematic like that! And no offense to Lady Mineru, but her original design’s far too slow and bulky. I have NO business outrunning my own creations. Plus, why limit yourself to two arms and legs? Can’t hull something as large as an Ancient Furnace with the physique of a Hylian, that’s for sure!”

The Sheikah researcher re-enters his steed and laughs to himself as his Lynel-shaped Construct begins to gallop down the road with the powered Ancient Furnace strapped to its back, and while continuing to monologue, Robbie slowly makes his way toward Riverside Plaza.

In about a couple hours and with a bit of showing off his Shiekah Lynel Construct (SLC) to the many Zonai enthusiasts in the plaza, Robbie finally arrives at the inn. As the SLC trots up to the check-in window, a familiar voice chimes curiously.

“Well, well, well. What kind of horse do we have here, old man?”

Ember, the current owner of Riverside Inn and head of Riverside Plaza, got to know Robbie pretty well over the past year as a new technological hub grew around the Stable’s area. Ember took full advantage of Riverside Stable’s location between Hyrule Field Chasm and the Faron region to expand his business, and Robbie was a significant reason why the transition went smoothly. As such, an unlikely friendship was formed.

“Bah, are your eyes dim? This here beauty of mine is clearly a Lynel, not a horse! And how’d you know it was me anyways?”

“Pfff, who else would be trotting around in something like that! Not the first time you walked ‘round the plaza with something eccentric.”

Puting on a more professional demeanor, Ember continues, “Anyways, what can my fine establishment do for you? Don’t tell me you need to board your ‘Lynel’ or something.”

“No, no. I just forgot my *grumble, grumble* P-Purah Pad here a couple days ago. I’m just here to retrieve it.”

Robbie exits the piloting chamber, located on the chest of the SCL, and walks up to the counter while Ember crouches out of view. All the noise suggests he’s rummaging through a bunch of drawers.

“Let me see here. It should look like Link’s, right? I think I saw something like that not too long ago.”

After a couple more seconds of rummaging, Ember emerges over the counter, victoriously holding Robbie’s Purah Pad.

“Aha, here it is!” He hands the device over. “How’d you forget something like that anyways? Isn’t that how you get around the kingdom so quickly?”

“Eh,” Robbie rubs his head sheepishly. “Been working on upgrading the teleportation system, so my pad’s been out of commission for a bit. Might take a few months to sort all the kinks out, but we could finally teleport larger objects like the SLC and that big old furnace back there.”

Ember whistles with admiration. “Sounds impressive. Convenient too. Well, anyway, are you going to head out immediately, or would you like to rest for a bit?”

Before Robbie could answer the growing rumblings of a confused crowd atop Whistling Hill draw both’s attention elsewhere.

“Ember, what’s going on with them? Is there some exhibit or something?”

“No, I don’t believe there’s any event planned today.” Exiting out of the check-in desk, Ember walks up to Robbie’s side. “Sorry, old man. I think have to figure out what’s going on.”

“Gah, let me join you. If it’s a technical problem, you’re not going to do squat.”

“Tsk, you really know how to make a man insecure, don’t you?” Ember quips as he and Robbie trek up toward the newly built square atop the nearby hillside.

As the two arrive at the scene of the commotion, an incessant cacophony of terrified whispers, hushed gossip, and wild speculation drown out any of Ember’s investigation attempts.

Quickly frustrated, Robbie mercilessly pushes through to the center of the murmuring crowd, abandoning Ember in the sea of people, and with an authoritative voice backed by over a century’s worth of experience dealing with bullshit, he shouts,

“OI, YOU DAMNED BLABBERING FOOLS! Care to explain what’s got y’all making such a ruckus?!

Stunned into frozen terror by the loud scolding of a small and angry old man, everyone merely stares in fear until Ember’s cough from the middle of the crowd breaks the silence.

“Ahem. Apologies, everyone.” The stablemaster begins to talk while walking through the mass of people, “There just seems to be some unusual commotion, so I just wanted to know what’s going on.”

The Zonai researchers and enthusiasts in the crowd look nervously at one another before one brave soul chirps up. “W-we made a miniature replica of P-Purah’s telescope, so we came up here to test it. B-but what we saw w-was, well. . . I think it’s easier to just show you.”

“You should’ve just said that to begin with!” Robbie shoves the researcher aside and stands on his toes to gaze into the telescope.

Through the apparatus, Robbie could make out a new obsidian-colored monument—roughly three or so meters high by his estimation—jutting through the ruins atop Scout’s Hill while ashy mist foam near the base of the odd structure.

“Huh, that’s odd,” Robbie speaks while still looking through the telescope, “but nothing to make a fuss about.”

“W-well, the last time unknown and peculiar edifices like that thing showed up, the Upheaveal followed soon after, so we just though. . .”

“Bah, you all worry too much! I’ll go check on it later, okay? Will that make you feel bette—

Grrrrroooom!

A loud tremor interrupts the elderly Sheikah and is quickly followed by low rumbling. Plumes of dark fog, visible with the naked eye from Whistling Hill, roll down the distant hilltop and quickly race across the Hylian countryside.

In mere moments, the unnatural darkness swallows the Outpost Ruins and the Forest of Time—its speed causing many present to panic.

“OI! All of you!” Like before, Robbie’s shout stuns the crowd. “Calm your horses, head to the inn, and tell the others to follow you. Ember! I trust you can deal with these fools?”

“Haha, I would give them more credit if I were you, but, yeah, leave ‘em to me.” As the crowd hurries downhill, Ember continues, “So how ‘bout you, old friend?”

“I’m coming with you, of course! I’m old, but I ain’t no fool. We need some data first before we head recklessly to the source, and for that to happen, I need those blockheads to calm down.”

“Hm, I see. Well, we best hurry. At its current pace, we might get caught,”

“Well, I’m normally not one for useless chatter, now am I?”

Ember just chuckles as he and his grumpy companion rush back to his establishment. Soon after they arrive by the check-in desk, the fog drowns the entirety of Riverside Plaza in eerie mist.

Chapter Text

His steed swiftly galloping across Windvane meadow, Link could only pray in silence as he drew closer to Whistling Hill.

The oppressive silence and eerie, translucent flora only heightened his anxiousness. He shouldn’t be feeling this antsy. Sure he hasn’t gone on any solo adventures since, well, before the Upheaval, but still. . .

He hasn’t felt this lonely since he first awoke on the Great Sky Island, and soon after, he found some company with the spirit of King Rauru. Even when the Sages’ powers left him in the deepest depths of Hyrule Castle, even when he fought Ganondorf one-on-one, even when the Demon Dragon nearly ate him alive, someone was always with him—at least in spirit. All things considered, his second adventure dispersed any lingering isolation from the first.

He’s no longer Hyrule’s sole champion. Tulin, Yunobo, Sidon, Riju, and even Mineru—their vows still (and always will) remain in his heart.

Link takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m not alone. They’ll always be with me. So calm down and focus,” He spares a quick glance at the ring adorning his left ring finger before refocusing his eyes on the road ahead.

When Link turns around the bend near the northern side of Whistling Hill, the familiar brightness of Zonai lights pierces through the dark fog and eases the hero’s worries.

And as the main street running through Riverside Plaza draws into view, the unmistakable iridescent blue of Ancient Energy outshines the softer Zonai lights and casts dancing shadows against Whistling Hill’s steady slopes.

“—ey’re—ing—ui——dy t——ws!”

Nearing the main road, Link can hear some broken murmurings too far and too quiet to fully make out.

“Can’t understand the words, but those voices definitely sound Hylian, meaning that there are people!”

But as Link calls out to the distant silhouettes he can barely make out, about a dozen tiny cerulean orbs of light dot the foggy horizon and appear to be approaching him.

“That’s weir—wait a fucking second—those are FLAMING ARROWS!”

Barely, registering the threat in time, Link violently yanks the reigns of his steed, pulling both of them off the main road fast enough to avoid the incoming fire.

“YOU LIKE THAT YOU ARMORED BEHEMOTHS! TAKE YOUR STEEDS AND BOARD THEM ELSEWHERE. THIS STABLE’S CLOSED, DAMN IT!”

A familiar voice boastfully booms across the darkened plains, and the sound snaps Link out of his combat mindset.

“E-Ember? Ember, is that you?!”

Excited at the prospect of seeing an old friend, Link draws Hoz’s horse into a full gallop toward the blue flame, forgetful that he nearly got peppered by arrows.

“Well, by the goddess, is that you Link?! Don’t tell me we shot at you!”

Soon, Link quickly rides up to Ember who, now unobscured by the darkness, is rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. Similarly, the various nearby researchers and stablehands look upon the hero apologetically.

“It’s alright! None of you were good enough to land a shot anyways,” Link laughs to himself as he dismounts.

Once on the ground, the hero takes on a more serious tone, “Anyways, Ember, you guys also encountered those armored monsters?”

The stablemaster coughs as he regains his composure, “Yes, we’ve had a few close calls since the fog came in an hour or so ago, but those creatures seem to fear the blue Sheikah flames, much like the fog they inhabit, I guess.”

At that comment, Link begins to look around. He hadn’t noticed when he first arrived in the square (mostly because of those arrows), but the light of Ancient Energy seemingly pushes back the mysterious dark fog, leaving much of the plaza mostly normal.

“Oh, so that’s why Hoz’s horse is unaffected!”

“Hm?” Ember hums inquisitively.

“You see—

“Wait, wait! Tell it to the old geezer, will you? Don’t need all the techie jargon now.”

“Ha, Robbie’s here too? I could’ve guessed by the way you shouted at me earlier. He’s really rubbing off on you, isn’t he? You sound just like him!”

“Hey, I do not!” Ember’s rosy cheeks betray the embarrassment hidden behind his outburst, and noticing this subtly, Link couldn’t help but laugh harder.

“AHEM! Anyways, Robbie should be back soon. He was just making some roun—

“OI, EMBER! I saw some arrows fly! You all alright over there?”

Carrying a torch lit with blue flames in one hand and a Purah Pad in the other, the elderly Sheikah scrambled up to Ember just before noticing Link.

“Oh, Link! I knew you’d show up eventually, though, about 5 minutes earlier than I expected.”

“Robbie! Good to see you’re safe!”

“Bah, compared to the Depths, this fog’s child’s play. It’s brighter, for one, and the monsters ignore you as long as some source of sacred energy is around,” Robbie waves his torch to emphasize his point.

Fiddling with one of his amber earrings, Link tries to process this new information.

“Huh, well that explains a couple of things, but how’d you manage to get blue flames out here in Riverside?”

At this comment, both Robbie and Ember dramatically turn their heads toward Link, and the former even squints to further exaggerate his reaction.

“L-Link, are you sure the fog hasn’t affected your eyesight or anything?,” Ember nervously asks.

“Huh?”

“No, given that you likely shot at him and his surprise at seeing you safe, our dear friend here is likely so relieved at our relative safety that he missed the giant, towering construct and the equally massive furnace right by the check-in desk.”

“HUH?!”

Link gazes a bit past Ember’s shoulders and, lo and behold, a lynel-looking Sheikah(?) construct with an admitting large Ancient Furnace strapped to its back is just sitting right by the check-in desk, as if someone tried to register the machine as a steed.

“H-how did I miss that?”

“Haaa, you’re a bigger softie than you were a century ago!” Robbie groans but quickly mumbles, “n-not that it’s a bad thing or whatever.”

Link could only smile warmly at that comment, but he quickly dons a serious expression when Robbie continues,

“Regardless, Link, you traversed through the fog on horseback, yes? Could you spare me some details so that I have a better idea of what we’re facing here? And while you’re at it, tell me how Lookout Landing’s faring—you were there this morning, right?”

At Robbie’s request, Link recounts the brief orders he shouted at Hoz, the uneventful evacuation of the ZST members in Hyrule Field Chasm, and the peculiarities of his journey to Riverside Plaza. By the end, Ember seemed much more perturbed than his elderly friend, who seems more relieved if anything else.

Robbie then looks up from his Purah Pad upon which, Link presumes, he was taking notes.

“So to summarize, the fog renders any living creature within its reach frozen and ephemeral— like poes, if you will—and such effects are prevented by the presence of sacred/ancient energy in the form of innate blessings, Zonai/Sheikah technology, or the blue flames of Ancient Energy.”

Robbie closes his eyes and ponders for a bit before continuing, “As for long term effects, who can say, but it seems that travel through this fog is relatively safe given adequate preparation—

“So we’re going to explore? And fight some monsters?” No longer clouded by his worry for Riverside’s safety, the hero’s eyes glimmer with curiosity and excitement.

Hiding his amusement towards Link’s expressiveness, Robbie huffs, “Oi, temper your excitement a bit. I’ll be coming with you in case that obelisk turns out to be a terminal of some ilk, and I ain’t spry enough to keep up with your heroic antics like the Sages!”

“Spry enough for the Depths, though?”

“HA!” Ember’s laugh interjects into the conversation. “Our hero’s gotten wittier with age, hasn’t he, old man?”

“Bah!” Robbie scoffs in defeat as he turns around to head into the inn’s interior, “Regardless, I need a few minutes to grab some devices for field research. Oh, and Link?”

“Hm?”

The old researcher gave a slight yet ominous smirk. “That retired hag asked me to check the progress of your training.”

Instinctually, Link tensed his entire body.

“I wasn’t going to bother, but if you’re so eager to fight, you might as well test your new abilities. You know more than anyone: there’s no teacher like the battlefield.”

Link calls out to Robbie, but the researcher has already vanished into the stable’s bustling interior.

The hero can only sigh at Robbie’s thinly veiled retribution as Ember chuckles in amusement.

“Rumors of Lady Impa’s strictness are famed among the older Sheikah.” Ember places a hand on Link’s shoulder while chuckling.

“You don’t know the start of it,” Link scowls before softening his expression, “but there’s a great kindness under her tyranny. I think she knows why I wanted to master the Yiga’s techniques in the first place and chose to intervene—to pass on the Sheikah’s secrets instead.”

Images of the shattered Master Sword flash in the hero’s mind before Link shakes the memory away.

“I must become stronger. I will become stronger.” The hero promises to himself, “Strong enough to destroy anything protect everything.”

“Link? You alright there, Champ?” Ember’s voice snaps the hero back to the present.

“Yeah, just. . . trying to remember Impa’s lessons.”

Considering Ember’s expression, Link didn’t really hide his troubles that well, but Robbie, now carrying a large backpack, interrupts their conversation.

“That took a tad longer than expected, but I’m ready to go if you are.”

Link gives Ember a reassuring look before nodding at Robbie.

Ember calls out as his two friends mount onto Hoz’s steed, “Return safe you two, and don’t worry about us. The Zonai/Sheikah devices would keep us safe.”

Link and Robbie bid their—hopefully brief—farewells and speed toward the fog-spewing Whistling Hill.

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

[About Five Minutes Earlier]

“Organizing the evacuation of Hyrule Chasm went smoother than expected, but ensuring the presence of everyone essentially negated the time saved by their speedy escape.” Zelda released an exasperated sigh, “The main culprit was the disorganized records at the Southern Gate. I mean, it shouldn’t take fifteen minutes to check TODAY’S entrance and exit logs, but expecting Drozer to handle both guarding and paperwork may be unfair, considering both his background and the sheer amount of footraffic. Perhaps hiring a scribe in the near future would be wise.”

“Your Highness, please watch where your steed is going! We are dangerously near both Hyrule Chasm and the mysterious fog.”

Snapped out of her internal pondering by Hoz’s shout, Zelda shoots the captain an apologetic look and redirects her intellect to analyzing this new phenomenon.

“Its spread has significantly decreased compared to its initial avalanche-matching pace, though it still will reach the South gate within the hour assuming it holds its speed. At least we don’t have to worry about it covering the entire kingdom before nightfall, and from initial observations, the fog seems to have a transluc—”

“Your Highness, is it just me, or does the fog seem to be curling around us?”

“Oh, you may be right, Hoz. The higher perspective atop a horse made it hard to tell but. . .“ Dismounting from her steed and ignoring Hoz’s worried look, Zelda continues, “Yes, what you’re describing is much clearer on foot. Though, instead of curling around us, the fog seems to be avoiding me.”

To confirm her hypothesis, Zelda slowly begins to walk forward, and sure enough, the dark fog immediately before her dissipated.

“Fascinating. It seems the fog refuses to inhabit any space within 2 meters of me. As for why, my powerful light magic seems to be the most likely candidate.” Zelda quickly whips her head back at Hoz, who remains motionless during her explanation. “Good thing I only brought you along, Hoz. It would have been difficult to keep any more people or horses within 2 meters of me.

“Personally, Your Highness, I think it would have been prudent to bring at least Flaxi or one of the visiting Gerudo with us. Our two steeds have room for four and we do not yet know the dangers that lie within this fog.”

“Exactly my point, Hoz! Better keep Lookout Landing as safe as possible than guard the Sage of Time! You don’t doubt my magical prowess, do yo—

BADUMP

Zelda winces and grabs her temples as a tingling sensation overtakes her perception.

“Your Highness? Are you not well?!” Concerned, Hoz dismounts and approaches Zelda, but her thoughts drown out the captain’s question

“This sensation. It couldn’t be—

BADUMP, BADUMP-BADUMP-BADUMP

Spending countless millennia as the Light Dragon irreversibly magnified Zelda’s magical capacity to—well—draconic levels, and while she now wields only a fraction of her former strength, her transformation back into Hylian form restored her ability to wield the time magic inaccessible to her as a dragon. Put simply, the current Zelda possesses a frightening degree of control over Time—not enough to bend its complete flow to her will, but enough to sense ripples across the stream. And as it so happens, her knight’s signature ability creates a lot of splashes.

“Link’s fighting—”

“Huh?”

“—and I intend to help him. If you don’t want to go blind, Hoz, I recommend you close your eyes.”

“W-What?! Wait, how do you even. . .”

Zelda ignores the flabbergasted look Hoz is giving her and begins to channel her Light magic—the power she perfected by owning the destiny she was given, in all its joys and sorrows.

“Wisdom gives light its shape—bigger, broader: the form needed to eclipse Evil’s Darkness
Power fills this vessel with substance—stronger, denser: the strength needed to overwhelm Evil’s assault.
Courage instills this weapon with purpose—to protect and to save: the conviction needed to undo Evil’s destruction.”

Her meditation complete, Zelda manifests a portion of the Triforce’s power which resonates with her Draconic and Divine powers to conjure light arrows orders of magnitude more powerful than the ones that slew the Calamity. Feelings of love for her kingdom, for her bonds, for Link swell within Zelda, and as if declaring that love to the cosmos, she releases the magical energy that pooled into her Secret Stone whose its light—akin to a midday sunrise—bathes the entirety of Hyrule field. Even if only temporarily, the enigmatic fog fades under the luminosity of the morning star.

As the lingering after-effects of Zelda's attack, if one could even call such, become but faint whisps of light in the air, the princess shoots a smug grin at her companion.

"So, Captain Hoz of the Monster-Control Crew, though this solution of mine is likely only a temporary measure as we have yet to eliminate the source, do you think we should have brought more people with us?

Deadpan, Hoz responds to his liege, "You know, Your Highness. . ."

"Yes?"

"You're every bit as bad as your Dragonslayer."