Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why do weathered warriors wander their way whither wanting wonders wait
Hark the heralds, anchors aweigh! Hither happens mine escape
Freedom forgone, sinking apace. Comets crumble, Phoebus fades
Under cosmic clamor decayed, hides a path untaken
—"eScape"

“It’s Wild’s!”

Seven swordsmen, in varying states of disarray—some clutching their heads, some sprawled on the grass, but all holding their swords as if prepared for a battle—groaned loudly. The eighth, nicknamed Wind, scrambled down from the tree he had climbed to survey the land.

“Oh, come on.” The ninth swordsman, the Hero of the Wild, stood on the crest of the hill below the tree, tapping the screen of his Sheikah Slate as the device alternated between chaotic beeping and emitting a staticky hiss. “It’s not that bad.”

Legend, who was lying spread-eagle on the ground with his blue cap covering his face, raised a hand with his index finger pointing skyward. “It storms in your era seven days out of ten.”

Wild screwed up his face. “That’s only in Faron...and the Ridge. And...well—”

“What weather can we expect here, Champ?” the Hero of Warriors cut in. He stood near Wild, a hand on his hip as he examined the cloudy sky. His blue scarf fluttered lightly in the breeze coming off the plains below.

The Champion glanced up from his slate and looked around. The portal—the latest in a string of portals sending nine of Hyrule’s Heroes of Courage across time and space—had deposited them on a grassy hill in Wild’s era and homeland. Sparse groves of pine trees dotted the plains and Hyrule Castle stood prominently in the distance, raised high on a mountainous column of stone.

“Irch Plain? Uh...” Wild’s face fell and his eyes went back to the device in his hands. “Okay, the weather isn’t the best here, but—why isn’t this...?” He struck the device a few times with the heel of his palm. It continued to beep.

A deep sigh came from Time, the eldest Hero, who was sitting with his head in his gauntleted hands. He looked up, winced at the daylight, and started peeling off his plate armor. “Metal off, everyone. No one is getting hit by lightning today. Wild, where’s the nearest stable?”

“Should be, uh, north—shit, no, they moved. This looks like Salari Hill, so south?”

“Why is it beeping?” the Hero of Hyrule groaned, both palms pressed against his eyes as he laid on the ground next to Legend. The Heroes with access to innate magic—particularly Hyrule and Four—fared the worst from their travels across time. Something about the portals tugged violently at their magic, leaving them with headaches and migraines—if it didn’t knock them out entirely.

“I don’t know, there’s some sort of interference....” Wild gave the slate one last firm tap. “Ugh. At least we’re in my era. If we head towards Lookout Landing, Purah can take a look at it.”

“Then let’s get on,” Twilight said, scooping the groaning Hero of the Four Sword into his arms. Four immediately buried his face in Twilight’s fur hood, muttering curses at the sun and portals and life in general.

Sky knelt next to Hyrule, the hem of his white cape just grazing the grass. “Do you need someone to carry you? If you transform, I can—”

“No, lemme just...” Hyrule muttered. Sitting up, he squeezed his eyes shut, nausea writ across his face, and dug through his packs for a green potion to soothe his roiling magic. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a swig before returning the remaining half to his bag. “Ugh...I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

With the customary kvetching that came after a portal, the swordsmen tucked their metal items into their bags—an entire ordeal for the heavily armored Hero of Time—while Wild continued to prod at his malfunctioning device. It beeped irregularly, clearly picking up some transmission but dropping the signal at random. He held it up to the sky, upside down, turned it off and on again, but nothing seemed to stop it.

“Tch, come on...” Wild muttered with a scowl. He glared at the device in his hands, working his jaw, and finally said, “hey, Wind, are you picking anything up with your rock?”

Wind perked up from where he was helping Time out of his armor. “Oh, lemme see—” The teenager shoved an arm in his bags and pulled out a stone which pulsed rhythmically with a bright blue light. They had discovered early in their adventure that Wind’s “rock”—a pirate charm—was an early form of Wild’s slate. “Uh...I think so?”

Warriors squinted at the rock from his place opposite Wind. “Wait, that’s....”

“A message!” Wild gasped. “It must be from Zelda! Hold on, O-S-D—”

“It’s a distress signal,” Warriors said, his face going pale. “S-O-S alternating with another message.... D-N-R-L?”

“D-N-R-L.... Dinraal.” Wild’s gaze snapped to the north, eyes wide, his pointed ears pinned against his head.

“What’s a Dinraal?” Wind asked, looking between Warriors and Wild with brows furrowed.

An ear-shattering roar answered the young Hero.

From the canyon miles to the north, visible in the distance for its sheer size, a white and red dragon tore into the sky. It rose higher and higher, fire wreathing its serpentine, writhing form as if caught in a whirlwind of flames.

“Oh, shit.” Wild ran towards the dragon, skidded to a stop, and jumped in place anxiously. He went back to tapping at his slate’s screen, materializing a pile of ancient Zonai devices from his inventory. “That’s Dinraal! Sacred dragon, very good!”

“Wind, get a visual!” Warriors commanded.

Wind already had his spyglass out and was tracking the dragon. “Aye, aye! It’s—Din’s tits, it’s fast—I think something’s attacking it? It looks like...uh...a bug? A beetle?”

With a flash of Zonai magic, Wild rearranged the clutter he had summoned into a vehicle of some sort—two downward-facing fans with a steering stick between. He jumped onto the vehicle and revved the fan engines. “I’m gonna get close. The stable’s not far. Twi, they know you—they’ll let you take my horses out—”

“Wild.” Time’s voice cut through his panic like steel. “You’re not going alone.”

“There’s no time! She’s hurt!” Wild yelled.

Dinraal roared in pain. From the distance, the Heroes could only make out a small black speck buzzing around the dragon, but they could more easily see the fired beams of light and the explosions against Dinraal’s body. It was uncomfortably similar to the Guardians that once terrorized Wild’s Hyrule, but with far better maneuverability in the air.

Grimacing, Time hissed a curse under his breath. “Buy us time. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Wait, I’ve got this,” Hyrule said.

He pushed past the taller man, hazel eyes glaring intensely towards the battle in the distant skies. Magic buzzed around him like a cushion of static electricity.

“Oh, hells,” Legend muttered under his breath, covered both ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

The others backed away as Hyrule lifted an arm towards the dragon and her aggressor, the tip of his middle finger pressed against the pad of his thumb. He took a deep breath. The cloudy skies above went dark. The air crackled.

Hyrule snapped his fingers.

Lightning tore the air apart above the dragon in a blinding flash. Seconds later, a deafening rumble rolled over the swordsmen, the air thick with ozone. With a barely heard whimper, Legend buried his face into Sky’s shoulder.

Miles away, the black speck assaulting the dragon plummeted into the canyon, impacting with an explosion and a billowing cloud of dust. Dinraal coiled in the air, no longer under attack, and roared at the crater before disappearing beyond the mountains to the east.

“Hell yeah!” Wind yelled, jumping and punching the air. “Nice shot, Rulie!”

Hyrule was bent double, his hands on his knees. He turned to Wind and gave a weak thumbs up before clapping that hand back over his mouth. “Ugh. That was a lot of magic right after a portal.” He groaned as Warriors patted him on the back.

“Time?” Wild asked, hands still on his vehicle’s handlebars.

Time squinted in the direction of the crash site and gave a low grunt. “Not alone, Champion. We’ll get horses and check it out together.”

Wild frowned at the dissipating cloud of dust to the north. “Alright,” he said, loosening his grip on the handlebars. With a gesture, his contraption fell apart and he returned the components to his slate. As he was about to put the slate away, an icon on its screen caught his eye.

[New Message]

“What’s...?” Tilting his head in bemusement, Wild tapped the icon. It brought up a list of alerts—the SOS—and one message with a bright border, written in Ancient Sheikah text.

[You have been identified as an entity of sufficient strength. Your abilities will be further evaluated. Please enter the rift before sundown. Failure to comply will result in immediate termination.]

“Wild?” came Twilight’s voice. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Wild looked up from the slate, startled. “Uh, guys?” He turned the screen to face the others. Those who weren’t being carried or recovering from portal sickness crowded around to look, their expressions shifting to confusion.

Time leaned down to eye the screen. “I’m afraid we can’t read that. Can you translate for us?”

“I think we’re being threatened?” Wild said, grimacing, and relayed the full message to the group, his voice lilting upwards in consternation.

Legend folded his arms with a scowl. “So whatever Rulie shot down isn’t dead.” Behind him, Hyrule muttered a disappointed curse.

Warriors was once again watching the sky as the storm Hyrule summoned broke apart into softer clouds. “Whatever it is, it’s given us plenty of time. We should take the opportunity to scope out the area. It may be a trap.”

“May be,” Legend scoffed under his breath.

Ignoring him, Warriors put a hand on Wild’s shoulder. “Are you able to alert the Princess? She should know about this.”

Wild hummed an affirmative as he typed a message on the screen. This remote messaging app was new to him, but apparently not to Zelda—now that he had found the SOS message in the system, he could see she had sent the message from her own slate. Dinraal is safe, he typed in reply. Weird thing fell in canyon. Checking out now. Will visit soon! Thank you!

With the message sent, Wild returned to his inventory and to the page containing his Zonai devices. “Zelda’s aware. We’ve got...maybe six hours until sunset? We’ll need to get down the canyon, too....” As he spoke, the anxiety on his face faded into the cold resolve—and expression he had seen all the other Heroes wear at times, when their own eras were in danger. Whatever this thing was, Wild wasn’t going to let it get away with its threat. “We’re skipping the stable. Give me five minutes.”

Five minutes later, the group had piled onto a new contraption—a raised platform with six wheels and a terrifying lack of places to hold on to. Eight Heroes clutched the sides of the platform with white-knuckled grips while Wild stood at the control stick, acceleration lever pulled all the way in, completely unperturbed by the machine catching air on every hill they crossed. Legend cursed loudly, gripping his hat as they went over a particularly large bump.

The canyon, initially a faint line in the distance under the Tabanthan cliffs, opened into a wide chasm as they approached. Wild lifted off the acceleration, letting the machine coast to a stop a stone’s throw from the edge. With a collective groan of relief, the swordsmen disembarked, shaking the tension from their hands and rubbing their palms.

Wind, fastest to recover, ran to the canyon edge and peered over. “Whoa.... You guys gotta see this!”

“Careful around the edge!” Time yelled, more out of habit than was necessary, as Wind was already pulling his Deku Leaf from his bag in anticipation of the descent.

Wild disassembled his latest machine and joined Wind on the ledge. At the bottom of the canyon was a new crater, with a glowing violet orb in the center—much like the portal they had recently traveled through in ominous presence, if not in shape. The rift, presumably.

Warriors came to stand over the two at the ledge, a large top-shaped device tucked between his arm and hip. “Do you see anything else off about this, Wild? Anything that might be lying in wait?”

“Other than the weird orb?” Wild shrugged. “No. If there was anything else in the canyon, it’s far enough away we would see it coming.”

“Just whatever is in that then.” Warriors tilted his chin at the orb, narrowing his eyes critically. After a moment, he turned back to the rest of the group. “Once we get down there, we should treat this ‘rift’ like any other portal. Assume there’s a fight on the other side. Groups of three, swords out.”

The others chimed their acknowledgements as they equipped their items for the descent. Wild handed his paraglider to Time and pulled a winged bodysuit from his slate. The others adjusted capes and spinners and gliders. Hyrule transformed into a fairy and flittered between the others impatiently while they finished their preparations and joined Wind at the edge.

With varying levels of grace, they leaped off the edge and plummeted, Twilight and Warriors falling the fastest, with only their spinners between them and the ground below. They both landed in a plume of dust, their spinners cushioning their fall, and waited until all the others landed in a ring around them.

The swordsmen glanced uneasily at the nearby orb towering over them as they returned their items to their bags. Wild felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, the air full of something like electricity.

“Two portals back-to-back,” Four groaned, drawing his sword. Hyrule, transforming back to his Hylian form, hummed in commiseration.

Swords drawn and grouped in threes, the Chain faced down the orb. With a deep breath, Wild adjusted his grip on his broadsword, Sky and Warriors at his side. Catching their eyes, Warriors nodded and they approached the rift, the sound of sizzling air growing louder with each step. When they were in arm’s reach, Warriors brushed the tip of his sword against the smooth surface. Like with the portals, it emerged unscathed.

“Let’s go,” Warriors said, and they went.

Walking into a portal was like walking into a wall of ice-cold water—it would set all of a person’s nerves screaming in response just before their stomachs flipped from the loss of gravity and the squeezing and pulling of the vacuous space between eras.

This was very different.

Wild braced for the usual sensations, but walking into the orb was like walking into another room—if the inside of the orb could be described so simply.

The inside was far larger than the outside. The boundary behind Wild, swirling in dark cloudy blues, extended high above them—as high as the canyon outside and twenty times the height of the orb’s exterior. Their boots clacked against a rough metal floor, comprising interlocking hexagons. The floor was incomplete, exposing the same cloudy blue abyss below. Other strange metal shapes, mostly spheroid, drifted in the air ahead of them.

“By the Three,” Sky whispered. “Wild, do you recognize this?”

“No,” Wild chuckled haplessly. Given the Sheikah text on his tablet, he had hoped to find something similar to one of their shrines inside the orb. The only thing they had in common was the otherworldly feeling of the interior.

A hiss came from behind—Legend, emerging from the wall alongside Hyrule and Time. “Oh, I hate this,” he said immediately, long ears pinning against his head.

“Do you recognize this?” Warriors asked.

“Fuck no,” Legend said, waving a hand in the air. “It’s the—ugh, you can’t sense it. The magic. It’s—what is this?”

Hyrule’s gaze darted all over, his shoulders climbing to his ears. “This isn’t like any of our eras. It’s full of magic, but it’s—different?”

“Different how?” Warriors’s grip tightened on his sword as he scanned the area for threats.

Cringing, Hyrule gestured at the space at large. “Different. Look at this place. This isn’t our world. The magic tastes like iron.”

The last group emerged behind them, Twilight and Wind flanking Four, who was bracing himself for the portal’s effects. His expression went from tight and prepared for misery to bewildered in a flash, his gray eyes shifting to wide violet as he took in the sights. He dropped to his knees, startling his companions, and ran his fingers through the groves in the metal floor.

“How...?” he muttered.

“What are you thinking, Four?” Warriors asked, his voice betraying desperation for one of his brothers to recognize the place.

Four knelt lower, nearly lying on the ground to examine the floor more closely. After a painstaking minute, he drew up to his knees, staring at the metallic structures in the distance as if they might answer the questions written plain on his face. “This metal wasn’t forged. It’s—it’s as if someone mined it, already in this form. But how could that be...?”

Shoulders slumping, Warriors looked back at the other magically inclined Links. “If this magic isn’t of our world, where—?”

A beeping noise cut him off. Wild snatched his slate from his belt and tapped the message icon. As expected, a new message had appeared:

[Welcome. Thank you for your prompt cooperation.]

The Heroes crowded around Wild to see the screen—with little use, as none of them could read the script. Wild relayed the message, following it by saying, “It knows we’re in here. Where is it watching us from?”

A new message blinked onto the screen below the previous.

[You are being observed from an isolated location. You will not be able to locate this unit.]

“Want to bet on that?” Legend growled.

[You will be granted an opportunity to face this unit in combat should your performance prove satisfactory.]

“Performance?” Time echoed.

A noise erupted from the ground nearby and the group unanimously jumped, blades pointed toward the source of the sound. One of the metal floor panels sank and slid under the others, creating a gap from which a pedestal rose. On the pedestal lay a collection of cut gemstones in an array of colors.

[Your combat capabilities will be tested and analyzed. To facilitate analysis, please make use of these auracite. They will allow you to utilize the ambient aether within the interdimensional rift to augment your abilities.]

Warriors narrowed his eyes at the gems on the pedestal, grabbing the back of Wind’s shirt before the teenager could grab any. “First you threaten us, then you give us tools to use against you? What do you get out of this? Who are you?”

[This unit was deployed with the designation Chi. This unit is a scouting-class Omicron designed for interstellar data collection and analysis. This unit is equipped with weaponry which may be utilized in self-defense and for the purposes of data collection. Do you consent to analysis?]

With bewildered faces, the Chain looked at one another, their eyes wide with confusion and uncertainty.

Time crossed his arms, his one eye glaring at the metal shapes in the distance. “What if we don’t consent?”

[You have been identified as the most powerful entities on this planet and therefore the most suitable for analysis. If a more powerful entity exists, you may identify them. Alternatively, a location of strategic value will be]—Wild sucked in a breath, pausing in his translation—[eliminated once per planet rotation.]

“Oh, fuck you,” Wild hissed into his slate. “Come out and face us!”

Time put a firm hand on Wild’s shoulder. “If we undergo your trials, you’ll make an appearance and allow us to fight you. Am I understanding you correctly?”

Wild’s slate beeped in his quaking hands. He snapped off a growl and looked at the screen. “Yes,” he translated. “It will fight us like a godsdammed—”

“Wild,” Warriors said. “Stand down. We can’t fight what isn’t here. We press on until we find it.”

Chewing on his lips, Wild shrugged off Time’s hand. “It’s asking if we consent.”

The others glanced at each other, swords still firmly in hand, before looking to Time. “It’s your era, Wild,” Time said. “If you think we can deal with this another way, we will follow your lead. We’re with you.”

“It’s my era, but this”—Wild gestured at the alien environment—“this isn’t my world. I don’t know what else to do. So yes. We’ll play its game.” His slate beeped in response, and Wild cursed again when he saw the screen. “Are you serious?”

“What now?” Twilight asked, squinting at the device over Wild’s shoulder.

[Maximum entrants: Eight. Please designate the members of your party.]

“It’s making us leave someone behind?” Four protested, just before the others joined in with their complaints. It violated the most important rule the Chain kept: no one goes into danger alone.

The only one not arguing was Hyrule, whose calm voice cut through the noise. “What defines an entrant?”

The Chain paused, and a beep from the slate followed.

[An entrant is a living organism capable of autonomous combat. Entrants may be accompanied by auxiliary companions such as summons or familiars.]

Hyrule’s ears perked. “A familiar?”

[A familiar is a magical creature that aids its summoner or creator.]

“Is a fairy a familiar?”

A mischievous grin spread across Legend’s face, his violet eyes lighting up with pride at his successor.

After a short delay, the slate beeped again. [Local data accessed and evaluated. Fairies are broadly incapable of effective combat. Fairies are known to excel in auxiliary support. A fairy may qualify as a familiar.]

Hyrule pumped his fist and immediately transformed back into his fairy form, landing on Legend’s hat with a smug smile.

“Is this acceptable then?” Warriors asked, aiming the question to the space at large.

[Re-evaluating. Maximum entrants: eight. Entrants found: eight. Auxiliary unit: one. The entrance criteria have been met. Please note that changes in party size will result in disqualification from the proceeding trials. When you are prepared, please enter the portal.]

As Wild finished relaying the message, a wide ring of light appeared on the other side of the pedestal, giving off a faint hum as its magic—aether?—grazed the metal floor.

“So, can we take these?” Wind asked. While the others were crowded around the slate, he had sidled closer to the pedestal, a grabby hand hovering over a gem.

Legend walked around him and snatched a green gem off the pedestal, ignoring Wind’s squawk of protest. He turned it over in his hands. “Hmm. What did Chi call these? Auracite?”

The others gathered round, picking up their own gems for inspection. Hyrule hopped off Legend’s hat and landed on the pedestal. In his fairy form, each gem was the size of his torso.

“It’s the same weird magic,” Hyrule said, resting a hand on a pale blue gem. “I’m not sure what to make of them. It’s like speaking another language.”

Four held a stone in each hand—a purple teardrop gem and a dark red, spiked gem, respectively engraved with a fireball and starburst-like shape—as if weighing them. He raised the purple one. “It differs from what we’re accustomed to, but this has the feel of some elemental magic—fire, ice, and lightning, specifically.”

“Ooh, trade.” Legend lifted the gem from Four’s palm, setting a white stone in its place. Four was about to protest, but then he looked at the new stone in his hand. It was engraved in blue with four star symbols. With a grin, he pocketed it and the dark stone, appeased.

There were twenty-one stones for the eight of them. After a perplexing warning from Wild to not eat the gems—just in case—everyone grabbed two, giving the more obvious symbols to their appropriate Heroes, like the harp and shield to Sky. Legend quickly sniffed out a second stone with strong elemental magic and claimed it. After a few minutes of bickering, the others dissuaded the item-hoarding veteran from claiming the rest of the gems too and distributed the remaining five at random (allowing Legend a third elementally-charged red gem).

Wild, who had claimed three stones, fiddled with the blue one he had chosen first while the group meandered in the direction of the portal. Chi didn’t seem inclined to rush them now that they had consented to its trials, but it also wasn’t giving them any hints on how to use the stones. The magic-users in the group spent a few minutes channeling magic through their stones to no avail, until Legend declared they were likely passive enchantments like the rings on his fingers.

It almost feels like a Secret Stone, Wild thought, as he traced the dragon face engraved on the gem with a thumb. He didn’t have a Secret Stone of his own, but the gem he picked felt something like Tulin’s, the Sage of Wind of his era. If they were stones of elemental magic, perhaps it should have gone to the Hero of Winds, but...

“Wild?” someone called, breaking Wild from his thoughts. With a jolt, he looked up to find the others crowded around the portal. He jogged over and once again took his place between Sky and Warriors before entering the portal.

Like the portal leading into Chi’s interdimensional rift, the expected bumpy-stretchy transition between eras never came, even as the metal beneath their boots gave way to grass. Strong winds grabbed Wild’s long hair and cloak and he had to brace to not be knocked aside by the gales.

Sky, taking to the wind like a duck to water, broke formation with the other knights and rushed forward, a grin spreading across his face. “A sky island!”

“Is this your era then?” Warriors yelled over the wind. “That didn’t feel like time travel.”

Even so, it did look like Sky’s era—or his homeland, at least. Brushing unruly hair and cloth out of his face, Wild got a good look around. They had emerged from the portal—which was no longer visibly present behind them—on an island the size of a medium house. Instead of sea, the horizon stretched across an endless sky, an ocean of clouds far below. But unlike Sky’s era, with its perpetually clear skies, the skies here were almost yellow with storm clouds.

The others emerged from thin air behind them, giving similar exclamations about Sky’s era as they oriented themselves.

“What’s the first trial then?” Twilight asked, looking around at the empty island. “Do you think it’s a fight?”

“I’d put money on it,” Legend said, a fire rod resting on one shoulder and a hand on his hip. He gestured at the area with the rod. “Look at this. Circular, flat area? Nothing around? This is a boss arena.”

On cue, an unearthly wail ripped through the air, shaking the island. The swordsmen braced and jumped into formation back-to-back, holding weapons and shields out against whatever threat appeared.

Nothing did at first, until another shake rattled the island and an enormous, whale-like creature surged up from below, soaring above the island in a graceful breach. Its whale song reverberated in their chests like thunder.

“No,” Legend hissed. “Not a fucking—”

Wild’s slate beeped, and he ducked behind Twilight’s shield to read the new message.

[Historical data retrieved regarding entities of unusual strength to serve as opponents. Entity replicated. Combat analysis initiated. Your first trial begins now.]

Sky looked back at Wild with wide, pleading eyes. “It’s going to make us fight Levias?!”

The flying whale—Levias—turned gracefully in the air, bringing the thick bone plate on his head level with the island. He beat his tail against the clouds, churning the mist into maelstroms, and rammed directly into the island with a bone-jarring screech.

Worlds away, a woman leaned over a chair, staring hard at the screen before her. A gloved hand gripped the chair, its synthesized material folding under duress. Below her, two Loporrits—the moon’s rabbit-like inhabitants—typed away furiously on the keyboards before them, text scrolling on their individual screens at high speed.

“Fiona?” one of the Loporrits asked, pausing their typing to look up at the woman. “Is something the matter? You can understand them, yes?”

Fiona licked her lips, brown eyes still locked on the screen, searching. She hummed an affirmative before suddenly surging forward, pointing. “Wait—stop the feed! Go back, to the short one!”

The other Loporrit’s ears perked and they wound a dial backwards. The screen paused and the video rewound until it came to a stop centered on the young man in the quad-colored tunic.

Under Fiona’s grip, the chair made a deathly creaking noise. Its occupant looked at the chair and up at Fiona, ears drawn back in alarm.

A complicated expression fell over Fiona’s face—cold steel mourning. “Four...” she muttered. “They called him ‘Four.’”

The Loporrit below glanced between her and the screen. “Do...you know him?”

Fiona took a deep, calming breath, finally relaxing her death grip on the chair, although her teeth worried at her lips. “...Get Jammingway here as soon as possible. We need to talk to those boys now. They could be in grave danger.”

With an exaggerated salute, the Loporrits resumed their typing, pulling up new screens and sending summons to their far-away compatriot. Meanwhile, Fiona’s eyes drifted not to the young man on the screen, but to the ground beneath his feet and the absence that had caught her eye immediately—a missing shadow.

Like an Ascian, she thought. The Fourth.

Chapter Text

Falling too far for the fear to embrace me
A voice from the past screaming, “There is no end, no”
A slave to my fate, ever doomed to repeat this
Again and again and again and again
—"Return to Oblivion”

Shockwaves rippled through the ground, sending the Heroes to their knees. Only Wind managed to stay fully standing, accustomed to sudden shifts beneath his feet. It was like a storm wave crashing against his ship—except the wave was a whale flying through the sky and their ship was a floating island, leagues above the clouds, with rocks crumbling off the edges and deep cracks webbing through the middle.

“Levias!” Sky scrambled to his feet and ran to the front of the island, waving his arms wildly. “It’s me! Link! You don’t have to fight us!”

Screw that, Wind quickly decided. Legend had identified this as a boss room, and he was going to treat it as such.

Wind sheathed his sword, hands ready to go for whatever item he needed from his bag, and searched for the boss. The whale, Levias, was circling the island like a gyorg, well out of range of most of their weapons. Wild, fast to his feet as ever, had withdrawn a longbow from his slate and was tracking the whale with an arrow nocked.

Most of the others were sticking to their swords and shields, recognizing that their bows would do little against a whale, even if they could reach. Twilight had on his magnifying hawk mask, but kept his bow low. Legend remained on his knees, staring into the distance, with Hyrule urgently patting his face.

“Sky!” Warriors rushed to Sky’s side. “That’s not Levias!”

Sky spun, eyes wide in panic.

“Chi made a replica for us to fight. A copy.” Warriors shook Sky’s shoulder. “That thing only looks like your friend, got it?”

Eyes flickering between Warriors and the whale, Sky looked like a drowning man gasping for air. Finally, he shook himself out of it and met Warrior’s gaze with a hesitant nod.

“Good.” Warriors patted him on the arm. “What do we need to know?”

Sky bit his lip as the whale circled closer. “I fought him before—well, a parasite infecting him. If it’s like then, we need to get on his back.”

Wind liked the sound of that. Anything to get off this crumbling island. His hand went for the hookshot in his pouch when he spotted something he liked even more near the island’s edge.

A massive cannon loaded with a harpoon—two of them, one at each end of the island.

“Wars!” he called, jumping and pointing as he ran for the cannon.

Warriors glanced his way and grinned. “Sprite, we’ve got harpoons! Everyone, brace yourselves, we’re going to draw it in!” he yelled, running for the other cannon.

Up close, the weapon was twice as tall as Wind with a harpoon head as big as his head, and he wondered what sort of creatures the colossal harpoons were made to hunt. The mechanisms were only somewhat similar to the cannons on Tetra’s ship, but Wind learned best by trial and error. He grabbed a promising lever and a shriek cracked the air.

“Company!” Time yelled from behind.

“Skytails!” Sky replied. “Their tails are their weak spot! Avoid their pincers!”

While Wind had his back turned, eight winged, serpentine monsters surrounded the rest of the Chain. Fur covered their long, segmented bodies, with six fin-like wings and a bulbous growth at the end of their tails. Pincers the size of Wind’s arms nipped at the swordsmen, hooking around their shields and swords.

“Wind!” Warriors yelled. “Monsters first! Harpoons after!”

With a groan, Wind unsheathed his sword and dove into the fight. He somersaulted under a thrashing tail and brought his sword into the gut of the monster attacking Four. The blade slipped by its thin, writhing body and only just clipped a wing. The monster hissed and spun to face him, gnashing its pincers.

Right—go for the weak spot.

Wind dodged the pincer and hissed in pain as one of the monster’s wings sliced his cheek. He danced around swipe after swipe from its jaws, catching a few strikes with his sword.

Suddenly, the monster squealed and twisted around to face Four, who had impaled his sword through its tail bulb. The smithy looked up, grey eyes wide in surprise that he had snagged the flailing thing, and then his eyes shifted to blue as a menacing grin spread across his face.

Wind stepped away from that and onto the next monster. He wasn’t sure why their smithy’s eye color changed like that, but he did know Blue-mode Four craved violence.

The next monster had Legend’s fire rod between its pincers as the veteran strained to keep it from chomping his face. “Wind, a little help?!”

Wind ducked under the monster’s wings, tracking the mass at the end of its tail. With a quick, precise swipe, he drew his Phantom Sword across the bulb and it burst like an overripe fruit. The monster shrieked and slumped to the ground before exploding into geometric shards of light—quite unlike the dark mist monsters usually dissolved into.

“Thanks!” Legend hurled a fireball at the next skytail, which had its jaws clamped on Sky’s shield. Flames singed the monster’s fur from tip to tail, forcing it to release with a high-pitched cry. Sky ripped it off and spun into a final strike with his sword.

As the monster vanished, Legend paused, turning the rod in his hands with a bemused expression. A mote of fire lingered from his spell, orbiting him like a little sun. Wind didn’t know much about Legend’s magic rods, but that seemed new. Maybe it had to do with the weird magic the vet and Hyrule mentioned earlier.

Wind decided that was a Problem-for-Later.

Nearby, Time held two skytails at bay with his greatsword while Twilight fired arrows over his shoulder. An arrow buried deep in the skytail’s bulb, and the monster shattered into light.

The last three had Warriors and Wild pinned against the other cannon. Wild had swapped his bow for a spear, keeping the monsters back with quick jabs and wide sweeps. One got past the spear and lunged for Warriors, pincers snapping. Warriors caught it with his shield, the impact shoving him against the cannon with a grunt.

“Captain!” Wild cursed as another skytail grabbed his spear’s shaft and wrenched him aside.

Wind darted past Time’s skytail, jamming his sword into his belt as he dug for his grappling hook. Still sprinting, he ripped the hook free from his bag, gave it a spin, and threw it. The hook wrapped around the third skytail’s middle and Wind pulled hard, yanking the monster away from Wild.

“Thanks!” Wild swung his spear around in a wide circle, bashing the attached skytail into the cannon just beside Warriors. Warriors yelped and ducked behind his shield. “Sorry!”

Meanwhile, Wind had a very angry bug tied up. Its middle wings were tangled in the rope, but its other four wings buzzed furiously. It lifted off the island, dragging Wind off his feet.

Oh, this was very much a Now Problem, and increasingly imminent as the monster climbed higher.

Wind considered letting go, but then an arrow whistled by and the monster above screeched. Red chunks of tail bulb rained down. Wind looked up as the monster fell limp and gravity took hold with a rush of air.

He hit the ground hard and fast, his ankle curling beneath him, and then the monster slammed down on top of him. Wind crumpled under its weight, hissing in pain. The monster dissipated quickly, but left bruises and a throbbing pain in Wind’s ankle screaming for attention.

“Wind!” the others shouted, followed by a voice—much closer and smaller—saying, “Hold on, I’ve got you!”

Honey-sweet warmth flooded Wind’s system. The pain in his ankle faded from a scream to a low grumble, and the scratch on his cheek knitted closed. As the tingle of healing ebbed, Wind blinked open his eyes to find Hyrule hovering overhead, fairy wings aglow.

“Thanks, Rulie,” Wind managed, pushing himself upright.

Hyrule smiled, flashed a thumbs-up, and darted back into the fray. The others were descending upon the last three skytails and would have them down quickly enough.

Stuffing his grappling hook back into his bag, Wind turned his gaze back to the actual threat—the false Levias. But the whale was no longer circling the island, nor was it flying above.

A bad feeling twisted in Wind’s gut. He jogged to the island edge and peered into the cloud sea below to find it as empty as the sky above.

“Hey, guys?” Wind called out. “Did anyone see where the whale went?”

Legend, standing at the edge of the melee and flicking bursts of flame into the fray, glanced around. He squinted, ears twitching as if trying to catch something Wind couldn’t hear.

“Hey, Rulie, do you feel that?” he shouted.

The last skytail fell, and Hyrule zipped free of the settling dust. He came to a stop just above Legend’s shoulder, dodging the little balls of flame—three now—still orbiting the veteran. “Yeah.... The magic’s getting...stronger?”

Now that they mentioned it, even Wind felt something, like standing on the deck when the first storm winds hit. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Then, impossibly loud, the air rippled with whale song.

The clouds below exploded as Levias surged upwards, mist clinging to his rocky backplate before cascading away like waterfalls. With grace unthinkable for a creature so large, Levias turned in midair to face the island. For a dreadful moment, Wind thought he meant to ram them head-on.

“Get together and brace yourselves!” Time roared.

Hyrule latched onto Legend’s blue cap and the veteran grabbed Wind’s hand, dragging him toward the others in a mad scramble. If the island crumbled, staying together and sharing their equipment might be their only hope for surviving the fall.

But then Levias’s massive jaws opened and he inhaled, dragging the air into a whirlwind. Legend grabbed Hyrule off his cap and clutched the fairy to his chest.

A voice, sharp and unfamiliar, cut through the storm. “Shields! Now! Shield with everything you’ve got!”

Wind threw his tiny shield up, and he was sure it wouldn’t be enough. He gritted his teeth behind the thin sheet of metal, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Sky!” Warriors bellowed.

Wind glanced over his shield as Sky sprinted past. The Chosen Hero skidded to a stop at the front of the island, slammed the tip of the Master Sword into the ground, braced his back foot against the blade, and raised his shield high.

In a burst of light, crystalline red wings unfurled from the shield’s face, spreading outward like a wall of glass feathers, just as Levias exhaled.

Water and wind slammed into the island with cataclysmic force, like the worst storm wave Wind had ever encountered. Sky’s barrier caught the brunt of it, but the sheer impact still rattled his bones. He could only imagine what it felt like for Sky, standing in the direct path.

“Sky!” Wind yelled, his voice entirely lost in the surge.

The island groaned beneath their feet. Fresh cracks webbed through stone.

Then, at last, the torrent ceased. The crimson wings vanished and Sky crumpled to his knees.

Time and Warriors raced to Sky’s side. Sky waved them off ineffectually, his protests ignored as Hyrule zoomed over, palms glowing brightly with healing magic.

“What in hells was that?” Legend demanded, hurrying over.

Wind followed and squeezed into the group, intensely curious—he thought Sky couldn’t use magic at all.

Sky’s hands shook as he fumbled a belt pouch open and drew out the mist-white auracite he had claimed. The shield emblem carved into its face pulsed with a gentle glow.

“That was from the stone?” Four nudged past Time for a closer look.

“What about that voice?” Twilight asked. “Was that the stone’s doin’, too?”

“Not quite,” a voice replied, tinny and distant—like Captain Tetra speaking through Wind’s pirate charm, but this voice seemed centered on Wild.

All eyes fell on the Champion, standing in the back of the crowd. Wild twisted around, searching for the source like a dog chasing its tail. After a moment of fumbling, he gasped and unclipped his Sheikah Slate from his belt.

“Good job surviving so far, boys,” a feminine voice chirped from the slate. “But stay sharp. The fight’s not over.”

Wild gaped. “Who are you? Why—how are you in my slate?”

Wind craned for a look, but couldn’t quite see what was on the screen. From his angle, it seemed like the usual blue interface, but a reddish icon in the center pulsed in time with the voice.

The voice sighed impatiently. “My name’s Fiona. An adventurer—like you lot, I assume. I’ll explain more later, but you need to man those dragonkillers before the island breaks.”

“Dragon—” Warriors glanced at the harpoon cannon and his mouth fell open with realization. “Oh.”

Suddenly, Levias gave a low, resonating bellow that rattled the island underfoot. The air shimmered, tinting the skies a stormy yellow.

“Okay. He’s seizing control of the weather. Sounds about right.” Fiona noted, and her next words were muted, as if she had turned away. “Jammingway, can we get aetheric readings—?”

“More monsters!” Twilight yelled, stepping in front of Sky and drawing his sword.

In fractals of light, two huge serpentine creatures appeared above the island and swooped into positions on either side of the group. At first glance, they looked like oversized skytails, but each only had one pair of wings attached behind their snake-like heads.

Time glanced at Sky. “Are these also yours?”

“No?” Sky said, climbing to his feet shakily.

“Whose are they, then?” Four asked.

“Oh,” came Fiona’s voice from the slate once more. “Mine?”

Whatever else she said was lost as both serpents roared, their combined cry sending magic surging through the air. Wind sucked in a breath as icy mist stole warmth from his bare forearms and calves, and the feeling lingered even as the magic faded.

Then the beasts struck—one lunging for Warriors, the other for Wild. Warriors braced behind his shield, boots sliding a few inches under the impact. Wild barely rolled clear of snapping jaws.

“Fiona, any weakness?” Warriors barked.

“Not really!” the slate chirped back. “They’ve coated you with their aether! If you’re attuned to wind, attack the blue sanuwa. The rest, on green! Keep them apart and get on those dragonkillers!”

“Who’s—?”

“I’ve got it!” Legend circled around the group to the green sanuwa. “Wind, Twi, Time, we’re on green!”

“Heard! Four, Sky, Wild, on blue! ‘Rule, stay with Sky!” Warriors ordered, keeping his shield up and sidestepping towards the far cannon. “Wind, man the harpoon!”

“Aye, aye!” Wind hooked his shield onto his back and dashed for his cannon.

The sanuwa snapped at the nearest swordsmen as they broke into teams. Twilight slashed at the blue snake as he passed and his sword glanced off as if it had hit steel rather than flesh. As ineffective as his attack was, the sanuwa hissed and turned his way.

Sky jumped between the sanuwa and Twilight and slammed his sword against his shield, which glistened with the stone’s opalescent magic. “Over here!” he yelled, and the blue serpent turned towards him and the terrible clanging with a furious shriek.

The green serpent started to follow Sky as well until a huge fireball blasted across its face. It spun to face Legend, who sneered at it. “Yeah, that’s right—this way, you ugly worm.”

He danced away as the enraged snake snapped at his ankles and dashed to the side of the island near Wind’s dragonkiller. The sanuwa followed, its wings undulating more like fins than feathers, before stopping short as Time stepped into its path. Time raised his greatsword to block as the serpent lunged towards him, leaving just enough room for Wind to skirt by.

Wind skidded to a stop at the base of his dragonkiller, the design of which suddenly made more sense now that he knew its name. The spring-loaded lever behind the cannon fired the harpoon, but the levers closer to the base must be for yaw and pitch to track dragons in flight.

Levias had taken position alongside the island again, just to the left of where the cannon was aiming. Wind grabbed the yaw lever and pulled hard.

The cannon groaned and shifted only a little.

Glaring at the contraption, Wind tugged again, harder, until something gave and he went stumbling back. He shook himself off and stared at the piece of broken metal loose in his hand. The larger mechanism from which it came gave a sickening clunk.

Wind’s stomach dropped.

Another tremor rocked the island, nearly sending Wind off the edge. He caught himself by the fingers on the cannon’s frame and watched as Levias drifted away from the island, rock crumbling off the whale’s side.

“Wind!” Warriors yelled from across the island. “Report!”

Wind pulled himself upright, shoved the lever into its former housing, and jostled it to no avail. With a curse, he threw the useless lever off the side of the island and tried pressing his shoulder against the cannon. His power bracelet flooded his legs and arms with strength, and he pushed and pushed and the metal groaned, but stubbornly failed to move.

“Wind!”

“It’s stuck!” Wind shouted back. “Lever’s gone! I need something to turn it!” Surely Legend had something in his stupid hoard. If the man carried around three blasted shovels, he had to have something like—

A weight settled in Wind’s hand and he raised it to find a glowing-white bar of metal—a wrench, perfectly sized to replace the lever.

Wind was not the strongest magic-user on the team, but all Links developed an awareness of it through their various adventures, and something pinged on the edges of his senses. He reached into his satchel and withdrew the pale teal auracite. He had picked it because its engraved symbol reminded him of the weapon Tetra occasionally wielded on rougher seas.

The pistol engraved on the auracite’s face glowed.

Wind frowned and turned the tool in his hand. He conceded a wrench was exactly what he needed, but a not insignificant part of him felt disappointed. Why not an actual pistol? Sky’s stone gave him a magic shield, after all.

As he glowered at the ethereal wrench, the tool reformed in his hand into a new shape: a perfect replica of Tetra’s gun, the weapon he was not allowed to touch under any circumstances.

He was not giving this rock back.

It pained him deeply, but he didn’t need a gun right this second; he needed a lever. At his urging, the ghostly weapon reformed into a wrench. He jammed it into the broken lever’s housing and pulled it back—maybe a little too hard, with his power bracelet still active, judging by the crunch of metal. The cannon moved with a grinding lurch.

“You good, sailor?” Legend asked, standing between the cannon and the nearby battle.

“Yep!” Wind pressed his makeshift lever forward to lock the cannon in place. “Ready to fire, Captain!”

Wind barely heard Warriors’ distant reply over the roaring wind. Legend relayed, “Fire at will, Sailor!”

“Aye, aye!”

Balancing on his toes, Wind tracked the whale over the dragonkiller’s barrel. He aimed high—the harpoon head probably weighed as much as a cannonball, right?—and pulled the firing lever.

Something deep in the contraption exploded. Chains screamed against steel as the barbed harpoon shot from the barrel, its chain trailing behind like a kite’s tail. It arced high through the air, hung at its peak, then plunged straight into the whale’s side—followed a second later by the second harpoon from Warriors’s cannon.

Levias cried in pain and Wind winced in sympathy—he would definitely need to leave an offering for Oshus when he got back home.

With a bone-rattling jolt, the chain attached to Wind’s cannon went taut. He staggered, grabbed a promising lever, and grinned when the reel mechanism kicked in, winding slowly against the whale’s strength. It would take a couple of minutes to bring Levias close enough for even their hookshots—plenty of time to finish off the sanuwas, Wind hoped.

Wind yanked the glowing wrench free and sprinted toward the fight. The green sanuwa, looking worse for wear but plenty vicious, loomed over Time, who was using his greatsword to keep its snapping teeth back while Twilight and Legend rained arrows and fireballs from a distance.

Legend, ever the magpie, caught sight of Wind’s wrench and eyed it appraisingly. Feeling a little smug that no one else seemed to have figured out their auracite, Wind raised the wrench and let it shift back into a pistol. The moment the weapon solidified, he pulled the trigger and a glowing bullet exploded from the muzzle, blasting scales off the sanuwa’s hood.

Legend jumped at the noise and stared at the pistol owlishly. “Where the—?”

Whatever he meant to say was drowned out as Levias’s cry, strangely melodic, washed over the island.

Across the battlefield, Sky froze behind his shield. “That song....”

“Surge of aether incoming!” Fiona shouted from Wild’s slate, her voice barely carrying through the wind. “I can’t get a good read from here. What do you see?”

Four lowered his hammer and glanced around. “Nothing new!”

“Does it have to do with the song?” Sky asked. “It’s a hymn to Din!”

“Like noise?”

“Goddess of power!” Legend called back. “Her elements are earth and fire!”

“I sense fire!” Hyrule added, flitting from Sky’s shoulder to Wild’s side.

The air was getting hotter, Wind realized. The moisture on his skin faded like the sun had suddenly broken through the clouds and he was standing on the deck at midday.

“Fire? Oh, that’s new,” Fiona said, tension creeping into her voice. “Alright, let’s assume it’s pyretic. On my count, stop everything.”

“Meanin’ what exactly?!” Twilight demanded, driving an arrow into the green sanuwa’s wounded scales.

“I mean stop everything!” Fiona snapped. “Don’t move or you’ll cook yourself from the inside!”

“Stop moving? In the middle of a battle?” Legend squawked.

“Yep! Five seconds!”

The heat rose like a wave, suffocating and relentless, driving away thoughts of the beach and reminding Wind more of the Dragon Roost volcano.

“Two...one...freeze!”

The world ignited.

Wind’s instincts screamed to move, to flee the furnace, but he locked every muscle and forced himself still. His eyes watered. He couldn’t breathe even if he wanted to.

The sanuwa, unaffected, lunged for Twilight. Time stepped in on reflex—

Flames erupted around him. Time roared in pain and fell to his knees, sword clattering to the ground as the heat suddenly faded.

“Time!” Twilight slung his bow across his chest and drew his sword in one smooth motion, rushing between Time and the sanuwa. Light blazed along the blade as he thrust upward, catching the serpent square in the mouth.

Legend skidded to Time’s side, digging into his pouch for a potion. “I’ve got him! Keep fighting!”

Wind staggered, sweat cold on his skin without the heat pressing in. He sucked in a breath of the blessedly cool air, steadied his pistol, and fired a few shots at the monster. Ethereal bullets sunk into the serpent’s back, but it had eyes only for Twilight now. The older Hero’s sword shimmered, giving the impression of an axe of light overlaying the blade.

“What is—?” Twilight started, cut off as the sanuwa slammed against his guard.

Levias sang again, lower and mournfully.

“Nayru’s Wisdom!” Sky shouted. “Ice or water!”

“Copy that!” Fiona answered. “Brace for knockback from any waterspouts! Ice means move and keep moving!”

The sweat down Wind’s back suddenly felt painfully cold. “Pretty sure it’s ice!”

“What the fuck sort of boss fight is this?” Legend growled under his breath as he helped Time to his feet. “Everyone get ready to move!”

The sky darkened, clouds shading to deep blue. The temperature plummeted so fast Wind’s teeth hurt.

“Move!” Fiona ordered.

A wall of frigid wind slammed into them. Wind pushed against it, hopping from foot to foot, forcing motion even as his fingers went numb around his pistol grip. Every breath was a knife of cold in his chest.

When the gale finally eased, Four crumpled on the far side of the island, one arm around his middle, the other clutching his head.

“Four!” Warriors sprinted to him, sliding to a stop at his side.

Wind couldn’t make out their words, but Four was well enough to shove Warriors away. Warriors hesitated for only a second before turning back toward the battle, shield up as he planted himself between Four and the sanuwa.

The clatter of the dragonkillers’ chains, a background rhythm to the sound of their combat, suddenly changed pitch. Wind’s head snapped towards his cannon.

The chain had gone slack.

“Wars—!”

“Brace!” Warriors shouted, too late.

Levias slammed against the island with all the weight and strength of a flying whale. The impact cracked stone beneath their feet, hurling everyone off balance. Wind’s ears rang as the ground lurched and rumbled ominously beneath him.

“—his back!” Fiona’s voice broke through the static of the Sheikah Slate.

“Wind! Wild! Get on him!” Warriors sunk his blade deep into the blue sanuwa’s ribs. “We’ll follow!”

Wind and Wild exchanged a look and sprinted to the edge, where Levias’s backplate rasped against the island’s rim, close enough they had no need for hookshots. They jumped, landing hard on the slick, craggy surface of Levias’s back.

As if sensing their intrusion, a wet, sucking sound came from the whale's blowhole, and a slick, fleshy stalk burst free. Two webbed fins and an enormous eye opened at its tip, slit-pupiled and seething with unnatural intelligence, like so many monsters Wind had encountered on the Great Sea.

“That’s it!” Sky yelled distantly. “That’s the parasite!”

On adventure-trained instinct, Wind raised the pistol and fired shot after shot into the eye. Unlike Tetra’s real gun, the pistol didn’t seem to have any sort of ammo limit, but the parasitic creature did. After a handful of shots, it hissed and shrank back into the hole.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Wild sprinted forward, spear in hand, and leapt—impressively high, Wind thought—before plunging the weapon straight into the hole.

Both Levias and the parasite screeched. The whale’s body convulsed, the surface beneath their feet roiling. The harpoons embedded in Levias’s flank tore free.

“Shit, we gotta go—” Wild hissed.

Racing for the edge, Wild and Wind jumped just as Levias pulled away, the gap yawning wide beneath their feet. They hit the ground with a thud and tucked into a roll to break the fall.

Wind pushed himself upright, heart hammering against his ribs. The harpoons—they had to reel him back in. But when he looked, his stomach dropped.

The outer edge of the island had fallen, taking the cannons with it.

Legend snarled a curse at the escaping whale. He stepped away from the green sanuwa—its scales covered in burns, pocked with arrows and sword wounds, and clearly flagging—and raised his fire rod high. The motes of fire orbiting him gathered at its tip, flaring bright and brighter until the rod itself blazed brilliantly, seeming to lengthen into a staff. Heat burned away the last of the frost in a wide circle around his boots.

“FLARE!”

Fire erupted from Legend’s rod as an already impressive fireball, but when it contacted Levias’s backplate it exploded into a new sun. Blinding heat ripped outward in a shockwave that knocked the surefooted sailor backward, vision seared white.

When the light faded, Levias was drifting sideways away, barely moving. A smoking crater had opened in his shell, exposing the parasite within—still alive, coiled protectively around the blowhole, but far out of reach.

Behind Wind, Legend collapsed to his knees. His eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground beside his still-glowing staff.

“Legend!” Hyrule cried, wings beating furiously as he flew to his predecessor’s side.

Warriors was right behind him, dropping to a knee and pressing two fingers to Legend’s neck. “He’s alive! Unconscious!”

The two sanuwa—perhaps from the prolonged battle, perhaps from the shockwave—finally collapsed into fractals of light, their death punctuated by Levias’s melodic cry.

Another song, Wind realized with a chill. Legend would be defenseless if it was ice again.

“Farore’s Courage,” Sky gasped, dropping his shield arm in exhaustion. “Wind or lightning.”

“It’s wind,” Fiona said grimly. “Boys, I’m going to need you to trust me.”

The vet’s eyes fluttered open in a daze as Warriors propped him into a sitting position and took the slate from Wild. “We’re listening,” the captain said, jaw tight. “What’s the strategy?”

“This one’s a knockback. Get to the center of the island and hold on. If you’re near the edge, you’ll get blown off. You have about thirty-four seconds.”

Warriors and Time exchanged nods, then pulled hookshots from their bags. Wind, Twilight, Sky followed suit, glancing at each other with trepidation.

“Everyone, hold on to someone with a hookshot,” Time said, firing his into the stone.

“Great,” Fiona said. “Except Wild. I need you at the front of the island.”

Wild blinked, pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Yeah. Spear, right? When I say, jump.”

Twilight’s head snapped up. “Now wait jus’ a minute. You said he’ll get blown clean off!”

“I know,” Fiona answered urgently. “Trust me, this is your last shot. Use the wind, Wild. You know what I mean.”

Wild sucked in a breath, apparently realizing something. He snatched the slate back from Warriors, clipped it to his belt, and bolted to the front of the island.

“Wild!” Twilight lunged after him only to get yanked back by Time grabbing his arm and hauling him to the ground. Warriors grabbed Hyrule and Legend and Sky caught hold of Wind and Four, drawing them in tight.

Light climbed Wild’s spear. A dust devil circled around his boots.

“Now!” Fiona shouted.

The ever-present breeze became a howling vortex. It cut Wind’s exposed skin like hundreds of tiny razors and pulled and pushed. Without the hookshot anchor, they surely would have been thrown into the abyss.

Wild jumped.

The wind spiraled around his feet like a spring, launching him into the heavens, a blur of motion and light. He turned gracefully in the air—so much like the harpoons, minutes ago—before arcing down, spear aimed at the wounded whale. A pattern of glowing rings traced his trajectory and propelled him down until he drove the spear home into the crater left by Legend’s magic.

Levias bent beneath the blow, giving one final, tired cry. Light enveloped the whale’s body and it vanished in a shower of fractals, leaving the distant dot that was Wild falling freely. The champion plummeted out of sight.

“NO!” Twilight screamed. “WILD!”

He tore free of Time’s grip and sprinted for the edge, skidding to a stop on his hands and knees as the others scrambled after him, abandoning their hookshots.

Wind fumbled for his spyglass, snapping it open and scanning the clouds. His brother couldn’t be gone—

Then, in the distance, a tiny speck rose above the clouds.

It grew larger and closer until it resolved into Wild riding some sort of Zonai contraption—two fans fused to a central control stick. The champion was soaked in cloud dew and grinning like a maniac.

Twilight stared, open-mouthed. “I’m gonna kill ‘im when he gets back here,” he declared flatly.

When Wild finally touched down, Twilight grabbed him in a headlock and ruffled his long hair mercilessly while Wild yelped in protest.

“How did you know Wild could do that?” Warriors asked the slate on Wild’s hip, looking more exhausted than Wind had seen since the actual war.

“I, uh...it’s a bit of a long story,” Fiona said, almost sheepishly. “We got aetheric readings working just in time, and it gave me some...insight into your capabilities.”

Twilight released Wild so he could pull up the slate, but kept a hand on his arm like he thought the champion might take another dive off the island for the hell of it.

Wind stepped closer to peer at the screen before the others crowded around. A new icon blinked in the center.

Sky snorted suddenly and turned away, covering his laugh. Twilight grinned wolfishly and elbowed Legend, who blinked open his eyes and squinted blearily at the screen. The vet’s eyes blew wide, and Wind thought he saw a faint twitch in his cheek.

The icon was pinkish-red, with two long rabbit-like ears and text in an unknown script. Above was a label in both Wild’s Sheikah and Hylian: “Talkingway Radio”.

The rabbit icon blinked in time with Fiona’s words. “Good job clearing the trial, boys. Now, we have a lot to discuss.”