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The Light Dragon was a new, albeit welcome presence within Hyrule.
The magnificent creature flew much higher than the other three dragons of the land, often just a small slithering streak in the sky. Despite the subtle appearance, it didn’t take long for natives of various regions to notice the horizon’s most recent occupant.
“Hylia has blessed us with another great spirit, in spite of the Upheaval that took our Princess!” citizens had roared in triumph across the land, holding onto all the hope they could as soon as the word had met their ears—a new spirit whose shadow was said to heal the sick, whose tears replenish endangered flora, whose cries sound like they mourn for Hyrule’s suffering while simultaneously giving a promise of justice. A fine beast, but with a soft edge. Petite and gentle compared to the other dragons, rumored to radiate a glow of protective, healing light.
Newly hatched tales gave notice of the Light Dragon, fresh myths and legends likely to last centuries, all quickly being sewn about Hyrule’s first encounter with the creature, conspiring the true origin, and yet—
Link knew he had been the first to truly witness her.
As Hyrule continued to whisper about how the new dragon felt so comfortingly familiar, Link stood atop her mane, more familiar than anyone.
“Hi, Zelda,” he murmured, wondering if she could hear him. Like always, the Light Dragon was gracefully silent as her eyes gave a slow blink, too delayed of a reaction to be any sort of true response.
While the people of Hyrule continue to ponder her origin, Link thought it couldn’t be more clear that Zelda was the Light Dragon. Even in a drastically different form, so many characteristics were the same. She still had the same soft, golden hair that glowed no matter the time of day. The same sparkling shades of green in her eyes. The same gentle way of carrying herself, expressed through a gentle glide rather than a gait. The same way she took it upon herself to protect the Master Sword, whenever Link couldn’t.
Most of all, it was the feeling of being around her. Even while trapped in this immortal form, Link knew Zelda was deep inside. Beneath the scales, behind the eyes, within the soul, it was Zelda. Link was enveloped in her presence anytime he neared the dragon, her energy drifting and nudging his—never in any discernible manner, but undeniably there.
“The sky is beautiful, isn’t it?” Link asked solemnly atop her mane, basking in the glow of sunset. “I’m grateful, you receive such a grand view of your home as you wait, Princess.”
Golden light reached as far as the eye could see, illuminating floating islands and the blanket of clouds beneath them. Her glassy horns shined beautifully in complement.
“Even after ten thousand years, I’m not certain that you’ve grown tired of it. You always liked watching the sky during our travels, day or night.”
Gentle winds. Another slow blink.
Link hummed in thought, closing his eyes. “Since I’ve last visited you, Yunobo has accepted his role as the Sage of Fire. That makes four sages, now.” The Hylian opened his eyes, straightening. “I think we’ll be ready to head to the castle soon. I won’t make you wait much longer, Zelda,” Link’s eyes burned, the Master Sword felt warm against his back. A determined calm pulsed within him.
He had come a long way since his first visit, Link realized with an amused huff of air from his nose.
It felt like ages ago, now.
At the first sight of the Light Dragon, Link’s heart had ached in loss, instantly aware that a tragedy had occurred during his slumber following the Upheaval. It was clear that he had suffered defeat, utterly and completely, and Zelda had paid the price. Sickness and weakness plagued Link’s body at that point, both emotional and physical. In spite of this, unrestrained yells and curses of frustration had echoed across the sky islands with the power of raw grief for several minutes.
Time continued to flow. Through months of effort, Link’s strength was slowly revived as he sought after Light of Blessings and Dragon Tears. He retrieved the Master Sword from the snout of the Light Dragon, passing her test of stamina, and freeing her from a millenniums-old burden. It had taken precious time, but Link finally felt worthy of the title of Hyrule’s Hero, once again.
The Hero’s memory of that moment remained vivid—carefully raising the revitalized Master Sword, his body overwhelmed with untamed emotion. Weapon finally in hand, Link hungered to slay Ganondorf like the abysmal creature the Gerudo man was—a blight that needed cured, a mad animal that needed put-down. A string of darkness that needed severed.
Stuck in a bloodthirsty haze, Link hadn’t noticed the Light Dragon’s ascension until his vision went gray, and then gold. They had risen above the clouds, greeted by the sun’s dying rays. Hylia’s light was shining upon them.
Link turned as he sheathed the Master Sword, and stared into Zelda’s eyes. His rage quickly melted into grief, and he whispered an apology.
The Light Dragon cried a single tear.
The Hylian Champion had shed one as well, before leaping into the sky to chase them both.
Link understood why Zelda had done what she had done. Draconification was the only option to restore the Master Sword, and she had embraced this, despite what it would mean for her—like a true member of the royal family. Link had seen in her memories what Rauru had said about his duty as king. It was clear that Zelda took those words to heart, as she sacrificed her body and mind in the name of Hyrule.
But it hurt Link, the fact that she even had to.
Link sighed as Zelda’s energy wrapped around him in reassurance, putting the Hero at ease. They have both come so far, but they always had each other. Even now, Link was confident that this was something they both knew.
“Hyrule is blessed to have you, Zelda. You won’t have to wait much longer.” Link said with a soft, bittersweet smile. “We miss you dearly. I…”
Link’s smile faltered for a moment, but he managed to keep it steady. “I…I can’t wait to have you back.”