Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Twilight's POV

It’s been just under a year since everything ended.

Ganondorf is dead. Midna is gone. And Hyrule… well, it’s still standing, with things trying to go back to how they used to be. The kids all made it home safely. Talo still tries to pick fights with things twice his size. Beth's grown quieter, more thoughtful. Colin’s stronger now and has taken quite the liking to riding around on Epona. He’s even been helping out with the goat herding. Malo's the only one who refused to come back to Ordon after the Invasion. Apparently, the Malo Mart's been doing well. Rumors are he's got plans—franchise dreams, a Malo Mart in every province. He even sent word about building one here in Ordon. Here. Like we need cheaper lantern oil and a statue of his face watching us work the fields.

Illia’s doing well. She’s working at Telma’s bar now—says she likes the company, the noise, the purpose. I think it helps her feel needed. I drop in now and then when I’m passing through. She always pretends not to notice how little I say, and I pretend not to notice how much she worries. 

The Princess on the other hand, I haven't seen her since… Well, since the last time. Months ago, I think. She’s been focused with the army, leading soldiers, overseeing defenses, making sure no one like Zant ever gets close to Hyrule again. It suits her. She’s good at holding everything together. She even offered me a position; Royal Guard Commander and Advisor to the Crown. 

Her exact words were, "Hyrule needs more brave heroes like you." 

...I wonder if she still thinks that when I turned her down. She didn’t argue. Just looked at me with that distant, tired expression of hers as I told her if danger ever rose again, I’d come back. I’d fight. I just wouldn’t stay. 

She understood… or at least she said she did.

The truth is, I’m still not sure what I’m doing. 

The world is so quiet now.

I tried going back to how things were. Waking up with the sun, herding goats, fishing with Colin and Talo like I used to. We’d skip stones at the river, race up to the ranch, and chase off the occasional bokoblin that wandered too far from Faron Woods.But it didn’t feel the same. I keep thinking I’ll settle back in—that one morning I’ll wake up and forget it all, like everyone else. 

But I don’t.

Colin asked me once—quietly, when no one else was around—if I missed it. Not the darkness. But the purpose. I told him no. Lied through my teeth.

Of course I missed it. How could I not?

I thought I wanted peace. I fought so hard for it. Dreamed about coming back to the village, sleeping in my own bed and watching the sun rise over the Ordon woods again. But now that I have it... I can’t stand it. 

So I left.

With Epona, I’ve taken a few jobs here and there. Escort missions, monster cleanup—though there aren’t many left these days. Sometimes I deliver goods from one town to the next. Other times I help lost travelers get back on their feet. It just something to keep my hands busy as I wander across Hyrule, waiting for something to happen. 

Something crazy always seems to happen.

Like today. 

It was raining. The kind of rain that soaks through your hood and settles in your bones. Epona’s hooves splashed through puddles with a heavy rhythm with goods wrapped in oilcloth to keep them dry. It wasn't anything fancy, just the usual just supplies headed up toward the watch post near Death Mountain. I’d taken the job out of boredom more than anything else. 

Then I saw her.

She was standing just beneath the arch of the Bridge of Eldin, where the stone juts out and gives a little cover. But she wasn't soaked and miserable like any normal person would be in weather like this.

She was… glowing.

Almost.

She was tall and pale, with a white dress that somehow hadn’t picked up a speck of mud. Golden hair slicked down her shoulders like silk, untouched by the storm. A soft face, almost too perfect—small nose, sharp cheekbones, eyes that were blue. Cold blue. Not unfriendly. Just… distant. 

And those eyes were looking right at me. 

I slowed Epona, guiding her carefully toward the woman. "You alright, miss?" 

She tilted her head slightly with a small smile, like my question amused her. "I'm fine. Just avoiding the worst of the rain."

Sure… She was definitely looking me over now. Her eyes drifted down my cloak, to the mud on my boots, my faded tunic and the Ordon sword at my hip.

I cleared my throat. "You want a ride back to town? I can take you to Kakariko Village or Death Mountain. It's a long walk either way."

Her smile widened just a little. "That’s a very kind offer. But no. I’m quite alright, hero." She stepped out from the bridge’s shadow and the rain somehow seemed to part around her. “Though there is something else I need your help with." 

My ears perked up as she continued. 

"There’s another. A hero, like yourself. And he’s... in need.”

In need? A tingle ran down the back of my spine. That sounded like a quest. It's been ages since there had been an actual quest. The most excitement I got these days was when a goat wandered too far from its pen. 

“In need?” 

“It’s... complicated. His original guide is… temporarily unable to perform her duties.” 

“What?” 

Her smile grew more tight-lipped. “I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you, Hero.” 

That set off an alarm bell in my head. “Why?”

“I’m afraid if I tell you too much, you might say no.”

"Well, I’ll need a bit more than that.” Excitement began to bleed into caution as I gripped Epona's reins tighter. “I don’t take jobs on blind faith.”

“Of course not,” she said gently, stepping forward. Epona snorted as the woman reached out, gently stroking her snout. “You’re a careful one. But I can’t let you walk away.”

My hand went for my sword. “Is that a threat?”

“No,” she said and reached out her free hand. It hit me like a hammer. My body twisted in on itself—limbs shrinking, senses sharpening, instincts screaming. That familiar pull, that curse I thought long gone, roared back to life like fire in my veins. And then I was on four legs again. Ears flat. Rain soaking into my fur and breathing hard. 

No. No, no, no—HOW?!

I left the Shadow Crystal safely tucked away in my house, wrapped in cloth and buried deep in my drawer. This... THIS WASN'T EVER SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN AGAIN. Epona reared up, terrified of the wolf suddenly on her back, and bucked. I didn’t have time to calm her. She threw me like a ragdoll, and I hit the mud hard, skidding through the muck with a grunt. With a whinny, she galloped away across the bridge. 

I laid there for a second, stunned and soaked, my claws twitching in disbelief.

A wolf again. After all this time.

...Dammit. 

I looked up at the woman who was still standing there, the picture of composure despite everything that just happened. “You’ll help him,” she said, glancing down at me. “And when you do, I’ll return what I’ve taken. You’ll be whole again.”

“What did you do with the stone?” I growled, the words strange in this mouth, rough and wet with growl.

She knelt just slightly, hand still outstretched. “I simply borrowed it. Think of it as an incentive.”

“Give it back!”

She just smiled.

And then light swallowed everything.

When the light faded I found myself sprawled awkwardly in the grass, all four of my limbs going in different directions. I groaned, stood on shaky paws, and looked around, desperate to get my bearings. 

As I did, my jaw dropped. 

There were mountains. A volcano. A sky that seemed bluer and clearer than any I’ve ever seen that stretched beyond an endless horizon. I mean endless. No walls, no cliffs boxing me in. Just open air, wind, and a view that went on forever.

Wherever I was, this wasn’t Hyrule.

At least not the one I knew.

Even the grass here smelled different.

I cursed under my breath, which came out sounding like an unhappy grumble. What the hell was this? How was I supposed to find one hero in this? She could’ve dropped me anywhere. Could’ve given me a hint. A name. Some direction. 

Anything. 

I paced in tight circles, desperately trying to think. I was on some sort of plateau but had no way to get off. These walls were too high; so high in fact that I couldn’t even see the bottom. Maybe in my human form I could climb them but not like this. 

Besides, there were already so many places this ‘hero’ could be hiding. The woods down below. In that crumbling Temple. Up in the snowy mountains. Anywhere. 

My ears twitched as I heard the scraping of rock to my left. I had appeared near a small cave entrance carved into the cliffside with a heavy stone slab sealing it—at least, it had been sealed. Until now.

Something shifted.

On instinct, I dropped closer to the bushes, my muscles tensing as the slab slid open with a grinding shhhrrrk, and someone stepped out.

Correction: sprinted out.

A blond guy, maybe a bit younger than me, shot out of the cave like he was late for a war. The guy wasn't wearing armor though. Just rags. Short, frayed sleeves clung to his arms, and his pants looked like someone hem them and given up halfway. Rather than proper shoes, his feet were wrapped in cloth.

And those cloth-covered feet were heading straight towards the edge of that cliff. 

“What—no, no, no, no, idiot—!” I hissed under my breath, already preparing to lunge, because I was not about to watch some barefoot lunatic pitch himself off a 40 foot drop five minutes into this disaster.

But… he didn’t fall.

He stopped, right at the edge. Just… stood there. Staring. Like he’d never seen the sky before. Carefully, I crept slightly closer to him. His hair was a tangled mess pulled back into a ponytail and his shoulders were relaxed. 

Something about him… tugged at me. Not recognition—I’d remember seeing someone in those potato pants. This felt like something deeper; a strange, unsettling pull in the air between us.

Was he the one I was supposed to help?

Maybe.

I crept closer, low to the grass, careful not to rustle a single blade. I just needed a better look—his face, his eyes. Maybe he had the same glow as the woman. Something to suggest that he was the one she was watching over, because there was something about this that was off.

But then I stepped on a damn leaf.

CRUNCH.

He whipped around so fast I barely saw it. I froze, crouching low in the brush. How is his hearing that good? As his eyes darted around, for a second, I thought I was in the clear. Maybe he’d think it was wind or a squirrel or something—

Nope.

He saw me.

And he grinned. A huge, full-toothed grin that sent me on edge as he scampered over. 

And I mean this as literally as possible. That was about as much scamper as you could get. Instinctively, I backed up, my ears flattening against my head and a low growl leaving my throat. 

He didn’t seem bothered as he stuck his hand out. “Nice doggie,” 

Doggie?!

Nope. No no no no. Not doing this. I don’t know you. I don’t want your affection, and I definitely don’t want your hands in my fur.

I bared my teeth and he laughed like this was funny. Like I wasn’t one snapped nerve away from mauling him into a very educational cautionary tale.

“You’re not afraid, are you?” he said, kneeling slightly and holding out his hand again.

I snapped at him, my teeth missing his fingers by a few calculated inches. He blinked slowly. Tilted his head like he seemed to finally get it. 

Sort of.

He shrugged before standing up and brushing the dirt off his knees. Then, without so much as another though, he ran off towards a large, decaying temple to the right of the cave. Like he didn’t almost lose a hand to an aggravated predator. I stared after him, stunned. 

…This guy has no survival instincts. 

None. 

His curiosity is going to get him killed in five minutes. Max.

And now he was literally launching himself at an apple tree, scrambling up its side and plucking the fruit off with his teeth. 

The savage. 

I should’ve just let him fall off the cliff.

There’s absolutely no way he would survive.

…Dammit…

With a huff through my nose, I started after him, but kept my distance. No way was I getting pet by that lunatic. But someone had to keep an eye on him.

Because if this was the “hero” I was supposed to help...

Hyrule was doomed.

Wild's POV

Okay. So. Weird day. I woke up in a pond bed. Inside a cave. Wearing nothing but the bare essentials. I've got no idea where I am. Or why I'm here. 

...Or who I am...

BUT! I have officially made three very important discoveries!

Discovery Number One:

There’s an old man chilling up ahead. He's hunched under this rocky ledge, cooking some apples over an open flame. He seems alright enough, with crinkly kind eyes, a big cloak and an even bigger beard. So, yeah, he's seems alright in my book. 

Discovery Number Two:

I’m starving.

I might not remember a thing about myself but I sure as heck am remembering what hunger feels like. HOWEVER, there are trees nearby. And on those trees... are apples. I scramble up, snag a couple off the branches, and hunker down a little ways away from Hard-Times Santa. I plop a few of my apples on the firepit’s edge and try to copy his roasting technique.

Very complicated stuff.

Step 1: Put apple near fire.

Step 2: Wait.

Step 3: Try not to cry from the smell because it turns out cooked apples are delicious and my stomach is dying. 

Discovery Number Three:

That wolf is following me. I spotted him again on the way down the hill, just watching me. He's trying his best to be subtle about it, but come on, he's not exactly subtle himself. For one, he's got this edgy chain cuff thing on his left front paw. I can hear it clink against the ground with every step. Then there's these little blue earrings he's wearing. I'm not sure if there's a purpose for them, like a cow tag sort of thing, but they're stylish nonetheless. 

No matter how many times I glance over at him, trying to coax him closer, he just crouches closer to the ground, his ears flattening against his head. 

…I bet he’s shy.

“Oho, well met stranger.” the old man finally says, breaking the silence.

I blink. Oh. We’re talking now?

“It’s unusual to see another soul in a place like this.”

I shrug before turning my attention back to the apple. It's burning on side. The Old Man gives me a look as I flip it to the side. Not a mean one. Just… a look. Like my entire cooking process physically pained him to watch.

“That is one way to do it,” he says gently. “I suppose necessity teaches us all different skills.”

I shrug again. He keeps watching me with those twinkly eyes like he’s trying to figure me out. Or like he already has, and he’s just waiting for me to catch up. I try not to squirm. Instead, I focus on flipping my apple. It hisses slightly. Good enough. I pull it off the fire and immediately burn my tongue on the first bite. Nice. But at least it's a decent way to avoid conversation. I'm halfway to the core when he hums and says:

“That device on your hip… That is a Sheikah Slate, is it not?”

I’d honestly forgotten it was there. Picked it up from the pedestal in the cave I woke up in because it was shiny and felt familiar and—let’s be real—glowy things are always important.

So yeah. Obviously I took it.

And, no, I don't have self-control. I just have… priorities.

“That Slate is a powerful tool. It is said to have been created by the Sheikah long ago, during the age when Hyrule was still young.” He gestures beyond the trees.“There is a pedestal beyond the Temple of Time—just beyond the ruins. Try placing your Slate there. It may stir… something.”

Cool.

Ancient technology. Mysterious glowing tablet. Pedestals. This feels important.

Also, I’m done with my apple.

I stand up, brushing ash off my knees. The Old Man watches me with that same knowing gaze. “You are eager to move, I see,” I nod politely, and he smiles, picking his own apple up from the flames. "Here. For the journey ahead." 

Obviously, I accept the baked apple and start heading up the path toward the Temple he mentioned. The wolf—yeah, he’s still following. I can feel him behind me, his paws scrapping against the stone. Watching. I don't bother looking back again. It'll just spook him. Instead, I focus on the path ahead. 

Time to find this pedestal. Maybe it’ll unlock some answers.

Chapter Text

Twilight's POV

He’s just walking, trotting really, down this overgrown, crumbling path like he owns it. His arms are swinging as he moves, blissfully unaware of everything around him. My paws make almost no sound, but even if I were stomping, I doubt he’d notice. He hums sometimes. Picks up weird rocks. Tasted a mushroom, immediately gagged, then shoved it into a small pouch at his hip.

Idiot.

I follow behind him—ears forward, nose low to the ground—when I catch a scent.

Rotting leather. Sweat. Pig hide.

I slow, hackles twitching.

Danger.

There. Just past the bend, hidden behind one of the trees. A creature; hunched over and red-skinned, sniffing around the ground. Maybe it’s hunting… It reminds me a bit of a bokoblin—but bulkier. And more pig-like. In the center of its forehead is a small, stubby horn. The thing snorts, dragging a club roughly the size of the kid's torso behind him. 

It hasn’t seen me, but it’s definitely seen him.

The blond kid freezes for a half second as they lock eyes—just a beat of hesitation—before he reaches down and grabs...

…a stick? 

I squint. Yup, that's...That’s not a weapon, it’s a tree branch. The creature lets out a grunt, raises its club, and charges. I crouch lower, ready to leap in and yank the idiot out of danger, but he dodges , sliding under the swing and popping back up. 

The pig grunts in surprise. 

Yeah, that makes two of us. 

The kid’s movements are wild and unrefined, but there’s something about them that sparks in my brain. I’ve seen this style before. Sort of... Obviously, his stance is sloppy and his footwork’s wrong, but there’s form in it. It reminds me of the knights sparring in Hyrule Castle’s yard. 

This is the kind of training you only pick up by practicing. 

He whacks the pig-thing across the face with the stick.

It snaps in half, which surprises exactly no one. That’s what you deserve when you’re using kindling as a weapon. The Blond twists, dodging the pig’s blow and drives the splintered point into the creature’s chest like it’s a sword. The monster shudders and gives a weak, squealing groan before it drops to the ground, vanishing in a puff of purple smoke. 

I blink.

And then— and then —this freak kneels beside where the body was and retrieves one of the teeth that was left there. Then the horn. He holds them up like "Ah yes, excellent loot drop" , scans them with that thing on his hip and tucks them away in his pouch. 

WHY?

It’s not food. It’s not a worthy trophy. It’s just… gross.

Still. I can’t deny it. He’s not helpless. Untrained, sure, but he fights with instinct. More like a reflex, actually. Once he’s satisfied with his score, pocketing the creature’s weapon (WHICH IS THE ONLY THING I CONDONE FROM THIS FIGHT), he continues down the slope, totally unfazed by the way , before he pauses near a narrow ledge. He looks at something down below. 

Two more of those pig creatures are settled at the bottom, seemingly having a pleasant chat. 

The kid looks at a group of boulders nearby. 

Looks at the monsters.

Then back at the boulder.

I don’t know what plan is forming in that chaotic brain of his, but I back up a step just in case.

He pushes one. The boulder groans and rolls forward—picking up speed, then slamming into the camp. Chaos erupts. One gets flattened instantly while the other runs off, squealing. After it’s recovered from the shock and settled down, the kid just bowls it over with another rock before sliding down to retrieve the spoils. 

I can’t lie, that was… actually efficient. Weirdo’s got instincts. Violent, possibly brain-damaged instincts—but they’re working for him.

Wild's POV

I’m like... 80% sure this is the right way. Probably. There’s something interesting enough ahead of me; something that looks different from the usual ruins around here. 

Probably the pedestal Ol’ Apple Man was talking about. 

Unfortunately, it’s also got company. Three red dudes. Bokoblins, apparently, according to the Sheikah Slate. The thing’s incredible. When I picked up the horn from earlier, the Slate scanned it and reported back; 

                Bokoblin Horn
                “The severed horn of a Bokoblin, a creature often encountered on the plains of Hyrule. It isn't edible, but it can be tossed into a stew with some critters to make an elixir.”

Amazing right? It even told me the caloric breakdown and best cooking method for a Hylian Shroom earlier. But anyway, yeah, those are Bokoblins. One of them is sniffing around what I hope is the pedestal while the other two are perched on some sort of hill nearby, scouting. 

At least, that’s what they’re supposed to be doing. 

One of them’s just cleaning its nose out with the end of its—

IS THAT A BOW? 

My heart stops. 

Yeah, that’s a bow. A beautiful, rickety, probably-fragile-but-still-bow.

Don’t get me wrong, the sticks and branches are fine , but they snap like toothpicks and I want something that lets me hit things from across the field . 

My knees crunch (I need to stretch or something, good gods) as I crouch down, skirting out the archer’s view as I make my way towards them. It turns out, that was a good call. There’s another camp just to my right that I didn’t see at first. Three more bokoblins. Dang, there’s tons of them around here… They’ve got something roasting over the fire and—

OH.

It smells so good .

My traitorous stomach growls, threatening to blow my cover. I freeze. Luckily, neither group of bokoblin seem to notice. I let out a soft sigh of relief. 

As soon as this is over, I swear I’m going back up to that Old Man’s fire and cooking something more substantial than a few apples. 

But bow first. 

I sneak up behind the two on the hill. They’re not paying attention—just grunting at each other and fiddling with their arrows. My grip tightens on the club I “borrowed” from their cousin.

Three steps.

Two.

I’m behind the left one now.

One.

I smack the club right into the base of the Bokoblin’s spine. It barely lets out a squeal before dropping to the ground. Hmm. Not dead yet. The other one screams at me, apparently not very appreciative of my harassment of its friend. I bolt forward, driving my shoulder into it before it can grab its bow. We both go down hard. It tries to bite me and I headbutt it in the nose. Not my best move. I saw stars. Wouldn't recommend it. Still, it’s enough to stun it as I wrestle the bow out of its claws and then—

Hah.

Mine.

It’s old. The string is frayed, and the grip smells like feet, but OH BOY SHE’S MINE NOW.

An arrow whizzes right by my ear, sticking into the dirt with a solid thud . Apparently, the other one’s back on its feet. But on the bright side, it seems to be a miserable shot. I get back to my feet, clobbering the Bokoblin I tackled over the head, which seems to be enough. This time, it goes down, vanishing away in a puff of purple smoke and—hey, hey! Bonus prize! There’s a little half-busted quiver! I snatch it up and shove it over my shoulder.

Perfect. Everything’s perfect. I’m a ranged god now.

Unlike that jerk behind me who’s still shooting off arrows into the dirt. 

Rude.

I whip around and thwip an arrow straight into the ground about a foot away from him. He squeals. 

Heh.

It’s enough to catch him off-guard long enough for me to ready the club again. But before I can even take a step towards it, there’s a snarl, a blur of fur, and then—

CHOMP.

Right into the bokoblin’s back. The poor red guy doesn’t even get a last scream out before he poofs into purple mist. Horn, fang, bow—all that good loot clatters to the dirt, and standing there, muzzle dripping with monster dust is my fuzzy stalker from earlier.

And the poor thing is gagging .

Like, spitting out actual bokoblin chunks like he just bit into a week-old moldy pumpkin.

“Awwww, buddy,” I say, lowering the bow. “That bad, huh?”

He hacks once more and then shoots me a look . Yeah. Obviously it’s that bad. I take a cautious step closer, trying not to spook him. “Thanks for the save, by the way.” 

I reach out—slowly, very carefully—and stretch my hand toward him, palm out. He growls. Not like a mad growl, just one of those warning rumbles that gets me to drop my hand. “Alright, alright, no petting yet. Cool, cool, I get it. Boundaries.”

But he’s still hanging around here so that means he must like me. At least a little. Note to self: bribe doggo with food later. Maybe I can “liberate” whatever the Bokoblins were roasting earlier. 

But first… there’s still one more Bokoblin to go.

Last one standing.

Last little piggy.

Somehow, it hasn’t even glanced this way yet. Instead, it’s just sitting there, poking at the dirt with its sword, which is weird , considering his buddies just screamed themselves out of existence thirty feet away, but hey! I’m not here to complain about bad enemy awareness. I’m here to exploit it.

I draw an arrow from my sad little quiver (seriously, it’s one stiff gust from crumbling to dust), notch it, and line up the shot. This bow is old and rickety, but it feels… right . Like my hands already know what they’re doing. 

Nice.

I aim for the center of mass. Easy target. Nice big bokobelly.

I exhale, release, and—

The arrow thunks into his head, and he vanishes in a puff of smoke before he even hits the ground.

“…”

I blink.

“…”

Doggo blinks before glancing towards me, something like awe on his normally judgemental face. As fast as I can, I wipe my own surprise off my face, like I totally meant to do that, and get to work gathering up all the arrows that Bokoblin #2 scattered around like confetti. 

At the bottom, I grab the sword and shield from where Shield Bro exploded. The sword’s chipped and dull and the shield’s not much better. It’s obviously shoddy workmanship, the thickness is all over the place and just touching it gives me a dozen splinters. 

The Sheikah Slate chimes; 

               Traveler’s Sword; 

                “A very common sword often kept by travelers to fend off small beasts. It's fairly durable, but a bit unreliable against monsters.”

                Boko Shield; 

                “A Bokoblin-made shield created by attaching a handhold to any flat tree bark picked up off the ground. It's pretty shoddy, so don't expect it to last very long” 

EVEN THE SLATE AGREES WITH ME. 

But oh well, free gear is free gear. 

I toss it onto my back, doing my best to avoid touching it as much as possible. Until I get something better, it’s still a working shield. Barely . I guess I could wrap some cloth around the handle to make it better but I still don’t trust this thing not to explode into a hundred pieces on me. 

Anyway, with all of that done, I finally  approached the pedestal. It's sunken into the earth a bit, with moss curling around the edges and a rock half-toppled over. 

The Sheikah Slate buzzes softly and glowing lines on the pedestal pulse softly, like they’re waiting.

“Alright,” I mutter, pressing the slate against the face of the pedestal, which is decorated in a similar pattern. “Let’s see what this thing wants,” 

Chapter Text

Wild's POV

I peer out over the side of the tower, the wind whipping my hair into my face as I did so. 

This was… a long, long drop. 

How was I supposed to know that the slate would trigger a frickin’ tower to come rising up out of the ground? The only hint it gave me was that brief warning; 

“Watch out for falling rocks.”

Real helpful. 

It’s freezing up here. 

I huff into my hands and rub them together, trying to generate some amount of heat. This pathetic excuse for a shirt really isn’t helping at all and these potato pants are only slightly better. 

This tower juice better be worth it. Right above where I put the slate, there’s this overhanging rock, smooth as an egg. Dozens of runes are engraved on it, each one glowing with this soft blue light that reminds me of that… glowing bacteria water I woke up in. 

It makes my skin itch just thinking about it. Ugh, I was probably sleeping with the algae.

“...li–” 

My ears twitch involuntarily. 

Now, most idiots would have glanced around here, shrugged their shoulders and go ‘I guess that was the wind’. But I’m not that kind of idiot. I glance around the tower. The only other living thing up here is a sparrow, but I seriously doubt that it was that little guy. 

I glance outwards. 

The view from here more than makes up for the cold. To say that it’s beautiful would be the biggest insult. 

This place is… it’s amazing. There’s fields that stretch for miles, lakes that are far better than my algae water and a huge volcano spewing smoke that’s definitely a health hazard and should be monitored closely but is still very nice to look at. 

Then there’s the Castle. 

And the view gets a lot less lovely. 

It’s sitting right in the center of the land, like its heart. There’s no doubt that this place used to be as incredible as the rest of the land that surrounds it—with its tall spires, white stone, and the waterfalls (SERIOUSLY, IT HAS WATERFALLS!) cascading down from the sides. 

But now… just looking at it makes me want to throw up. 

There’s something huge swarming the castle. And when I say huge I mean it’s able to physically wrap around this entire thing. HUGE. It circles, loop after loop, beady yellow eyes scanning the grounds. Occasionally, it’ll lift its massive head and roar, causing thunder and purple lightning to flash within its body. 

I narrow my eyes at the disgusting, smoky worm thing. 

Obviously, it’s bad news. 

“...link…”

I immediately straighten up. There it is again! It’s a voice. A girl’s voice, more specifically. 

And it’s soft. So soft I can barely hear her. 

“remember… try to remember…”

I bristle slightly. Well, I’d love to, but at the moment I’m just a little bit—

“yo     u    have been asle  ep    for the  pa s t   one   hun d  red and se ven  years.” 

… excuse me? 

One hundred and seven years? I… there’s no way . No, that’s it, there’s no way. There’s absolutely no way. Because that would make me… actually, no, there’s no way I’m older than one hundred and seven years old . 

I back up, one hand gripping the side of the pedestal for balance. One hundred and seven… I… HOW THE HELL AM I NOT A PILE OF BONES? Scratch that, I should be dust at this point. What was I even doing all that time? 

Just… staying there in that cave? Sleeping?

How can someone… No, nobody can sleep that long, it’s impossible! 

But the girl continues, her voice growing weaker. “th  e   be ast… wh   en the bea    st   reache s it’s t  r  ue power, th   i   s   w  orld   will be at it’s en—” 

Her words suddenly morph into a scream that pierces my ears. It’s not just loud—it’s inside me, bouncing around in my skull. I stagger back, clutching my head. 

“LINK YOU MUST HELP ME!” 

She’s so loud . 

“PLEASE. HURRY. I CAN’T CONTAIN HIM MUCH LONGER!” 

I can’t block it out. I try to focus on anything else on the cold stone under my boots or the dust floating through the air but her voice is way too much . Her screaming pitches higher, splintering into gasps and choked sobs, and I’m about to start screaming myself, when—

Silence.

Just like that she’s gone. 

Like someone just flipped a switch. 

That’s scarier than the screaming. 

I pause for a second before dropping my hands down from my ears. They’re ringing a bit, but other than that, nothing. 

I whisper a little “hello?” into the wind. 

No answer.

…creepy… 

I’m not sure how long I spent standing on that tower, but eventually the Slate chimes. I blink. The eye symbol that’s on the back flashes briefly on the surface. 

Apparently, it’s done with its download. 

Swiping a finger across the screen reveals a map that takes up the entire screen, complete with every mountain, sea, and… whatever the heck those square things are in this place. Hyrule, I’m assuming. That’s just what’s labeled in the lower left-hand corner beneath the time and temperature (which is just proving my point. It’s freezing up here). 

But that’s not all. 

Scattered around the map are fifteen (yes, fifteen, I counted) of these blue tower symbols. Apparently the one I’m on is called the Great Plateau Tower. Curious, I tap a different one—the Dueling Peaks Tower which gives me the option of; 

Travel?  

Sure, why not? 

I hit the button which the slate doesn’t appreciate apparently. The screen glitches, flashing blue and black and a new message pops up; 

Fast travel to this area is not permitted at this time.

…

…Then why’d you give me the option? 

Whatever. 

I sling the useless thing back onto my hip and glance over the side of the tower. Looks like I’m going to have to take the long way down. At least there’s ledges for me to catch my breath every so often. With those, this should be easy. 

Twilight’s POV

Oh, Hylia, he’s going to die. 

Wild’s POV

Six times.

I’ve nearly fallen off this damn tower six times.

So this time, I swear I’m being careful.

I hug the sides of this tower, doing my best to keep my breaths shallow. Everytime I exhale, I can feel the dust bouncing back into my face, which is the last thing I need right now. Choking on this dust was the cause of Slip Numero 3. 

That one really sucked.

 My fingers grope around the tower, but finding handholds isn’t the problem. The problem is that they’re all slick with dust. Finding places for my feet? Even worse. I force myself down, ledge by ledge.

 No rushing. Niiiiiiice and easy. Nice and–

I swear my stomach leaps up into my throat as I skid down the side of the tower, flailing like a bug. A stupid bug. Barely, I manage to claw my hand against the grooves and it feels like my nails are being torn off. A sound crawls up my throat—half whimper, half scream—but I choke it back, pressing myself flat against the tower.

…At least I stopped. 

BARELY. 

I’m never going anywhere the Sheikah Slate wants again. 

I cling there, lungs dragging in broken gasps, trying not to look at how far away the ground is. 

Nope. Not thinking about that.

I focus instead on the ledge just to my right, a narrow mercy shelf carved by the goddess herself. I edge over, scraping my knees raw on the stone, and collapse onto it. Yay. Didn’t 

By the time my boots finally hit that sweet, sweet dirt below I’m absolutely drenched in sweat. Half fear, half exhaustion I’m guessing, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that I actually made it down this stupid deathtrap! 

A half deranged laugh escapes me as I start to raise up my hands to express just how fun this entire journey was when I hear a soft snort to my left. Hey, Wolfie’s back. He’s sprawled across the grass, one paw draped over his muzzle and the most exasperated look in his eyes.

 Like watching that physically pained him. 

Which, okay, fair, but still, I’d like to see him do better. 

I’m about to go over there, when this piercing “HOE!” splits through the air. Every muscle in my dead body snaps back to life as I square up, because I just climbed back down a tower and I’m really not in the mood to be slut-shamed by a stranger in the wilderness—

Oh, it’s just Old Man Apples. 

Slowly, my shaking muscles relax as I realize that… Yeah…I probably just misheard him. But I definitely don’t mishear the smug creak of fabric as he glides toward me on a paraglider. 

A paraglider that would’ve been REALLY NICE to know about before I risked my life climbing down this monstrosity. 

My jaw drops a little as he comes in for a landing, his boots crunching into the dirt with insulting lightness. I stare at him as he just smiles in that mild, kindly-old-man way, which somehow feels… condescending? 

“My, my,” he says, resting one hand on top of his oversized lantern as if it’s a cane. “It seems we have quite the enigma. This tower, and others like it, have erupted across the land, one after another. It’s almost as if some long-dormant power has awakened.”

Nah, the only enigma here is how the hell he got down here. 

There’s no way that he could have just floated in like that, from that high, without me seeing him as I was coming down. No way. And that lantern? You’re telling me he carried that massive thing while flying? 

I’m not buying it. But I keep my mouth shut. 

Old Man Apples leans in closer, his eyes scanning me up and down. “If you don’t mind me asking… Did anything… odd occur to you while you were atop that tower?” 

For some reason, my hands are the first thing that goes to answer, already signing out “I heard”. I freeze, barely catching myself. Signing… I… why? I force my hands to go by my sides. I should… probably speak normally. I know I can. But for some reason, when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. 

Absolutely nothing. 

The silence is so jarring it makes me flinch. 

My throat feels… wrong. Like my voice just went and died. 

Old Man Apples  taps his lantern against the ground once, loud enough to catch my attention. “Speak in whatever way you feel most comfortable, young one,” he says softly, like he’s coaxing me forward. “I will understand.”

I pause. Then I let my hands take over. 

“There was a scream,” I sign.

That twinkle in his eye goes dead. He straightens up, his lantern is swinging forward slightly, just enough to make me realize how easily it could knock me out cold. “Do you recognize the voice?” he demands. One hand grips my left shoulder, squeezing hard enough that I can feel a bruise forming. 

I sign a quick, tight “ No. ”

“Are you sure?” 

“ Yes. ”

He studies me for a moment, eyes narrowing, then exhales through his beard. Some of the tension bleeds out from his body. “Unfortunate,” he murmurs, releasing me. 

I happily back up as he turns his sights away from and towards the Castle. Completely unprompted I might add. 

“You’ve likely caught sight of that atrocity circling the spires,” he says, jabbing his lantern towards it. “That’s Calamity Ganon. One hundred years ago, that vile entity brought the kingdom of Hyrule to ruin. It appeared suddenly and destroyed everything in its path. So many innocent lives were lost in its wake.”

I shiver. 

Over a hundred years ago.

Just about as long as I spent sleeping. 

“For a century,” THERE IT WAS AGAIN! “The very symbol of our kingdom, Hyrule Castle, has managed to contain that evil.” He pauses for a moment, his voice becoming slightly rough. “But just barely.” 

That girl… 

“There it festers, building its strength for the moment it will unleash its blight upon the land once again. It would appear that moment is fast approaching… I must ask you, courageous one… Do you intend to make your way to the castle?” 

His gaze lands on me again and I blink in response. Stupidly. 

Why me? 

I mean, there's got to be someone better suited to this job. Someone bigger, stronger, and younger than a hundred and something, but apparently, I’m the one destined to march right up to the smoky monster of doom that overthrew an entire kingdom and… what? Smack it with a stick?

Because that’s my best option at the moment. 

…Still. 

“I do.”  

Old Man Apples’ smiles softly. “I knew you would say that.”

I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be flattering or ominous, but he gestures out toward the edge of the plateau anyway. “But you cannot get down from here as you are now. The walls are far too high, and the drop… Well, you would surely perish.”

“Now,” he says, adjusting the lantern in one hand, “if you had something like my paraglider… that would be another story entirely.”

Oh, I know what he’s doing. He’s waving that thing in my face on purpose. Instead of taking the bait, I just smile politely and, with all the charm I can muster, sign; “ May I borrow it?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Borrow? No. But… I am willing to trade for a bit of treasure that slumbars nearby” 

His hand sweeps toward something across a nearby river. It looks like… actually it looks like nothing I’ve ever seen before. At best, it’s like a house that gets narrower towards the top, sticking out of the dirt with bits of orange running through the sides, glowing like lava. Another one of those eye symbols is at the tip, glowing orange as well. 

“Wait a minute… ” I sign suspiciously. “ You’re seriously making me barter for the right not to splatter on rocks?” 

He smiles faintly. The corners of his eyes crease in a way that’s almost fond, though it makes me bristle anyway. “Patience,” he murmurs. “This land will not heal through shortcuts. Nor should you.”

“...didn’t you just say that there’s a barely held-back festering evil–?”

He cuts me off with a hearty chuckle. “You have spirit,” he says softly. “That much is clear. But spirit without tempering…” His gaze drifts toward the horizon, where the ruined castle looms in its storm of malice. “…will not be enough.”

I press my lips into a thin line. Signing this time with less heat: “ So you’re not budging, huh?”

“No.” He looks back at me with something almost warm— almost . “Go on. See what lies hidden. I will wait.”

I exhale hard through my nose. Every bone in my body wants to stomp my foot like a child, but… he’s old. And I’m not going to be rude to an old man. That’s just—wrong.

So I swallow my frustration, bow my head slightly in respect, and sign with clipped precision: “ Fine.”

He chuckles again. I think he’s enjoying this far too much.

Twilight’s POV

The shrine hums quietly beside me, the same constant, nagging drone ever since That Boy went inside. At first, I tried to pay attention to the sounds. Search for any differences that could hint at… whatever it was he was doing in there. 

All I knew is I wasn’t allowed to follow. 

The entrance buzzed angrily, like a swarm of wasps, as I tried to step paw inside of it and that was enough to send me slinking back out. Which is fine. It’s not my job to mess with these things.

Still. I hate waiting.

My ears flick toward the symbol carved into the shrine’s face. The fortune teller in Castle Town had it painted on her forehead, swore it was a mark of spirituality and ingenuity.

…Spirituality, maybe. Ingenuity, I’ll give her that, she did know how to separate a man from his rupees faster than anyone I ever met. But seeing that mark here, stamped on something ancient looking… it makes me wonder… 

I glance at the horizon. This world makes my own feel small. Here, there’s too much sky, too much land, too empty. No people. No villages. Just ruins. 

The quiet presses down on me heavier than the Twilight Realm ever did.

At least there, there was something. 

All that’s here is The Boy. And that Old Man who seemed to vanish the moment the kid waltzed into the shrine. 

Not for the first time I wonder if maybe this isn’t the future. Maybe it’s the past. Or maybe it’s neither and I’ve been dropped in some entirely different world altogether.

My head aches thinking about it, so I snort through my nose and let the thought go. Not helpful. What would be helpful would be addressing my rumbling stomach. Hunting’s an option, but I hate it in this form. Too much of a mess. Besides, I’ve no idea what’s safe to eat here.

A flash of scales in the pond catches my eyes. There’s fish in it, darting around in lazy circles. Hm. That’ll do.Padding over, I crouch low at the water’s edge, ignoring the mud that cakes my claws. Other than their bizarre green color, the fish look harmless enough.

I plunge my muzzle in, teeth snapping. Nothing. Cold water rushes up my nose and I sneeze, sending ripples across the pond. The fish scatter. Figures. I huff, shake my head, and set myself again, scanning the water. 

I got this. 

The fourth time, I catch one. Flailing, heavy, wriggling between my teeth. Hah! I drop it on the grass and sit beside it, panting softly. My reflection stares back at me in the water. Gold eyes. Ragged fur. Faint scar down the bridge of my muzzle.

Not exactly the image of Hyrule’s finest hero.

I sigh. Long. Heavy.

I didn’t want another adventure. Not like this.

Not in a different world. As a beast. Eating this nasty fish that tastes like pondweed. 

After a few bites, I give up and lie down again, my tail curling against my side. The sun feels good against my back. I close my eyes, but allow my ears to flick at every twig snap. 

My nose kept tabs on everything nearby.

But for once, I wasn’t tense.

…correction, overly tense. 

And then the shrine hissed.

Stone grumbled. Magic sighed. I cracked one eye open just in time to see a blur of blond and blue stagger out through the glowing doorway. He seemed okay… No blood, no burns, no frantic screaming—he looked tired, sure, but intact. In fact, he looked pretty pleased with himself, which should’ve been my first warning.

I didn’t bother getting up and burrowed my chin deeper into the grass. 

He took his sweet time coming out so I can afford to relax in the last bit of the sun. 

“Hey, buddy,” He grinned. Like a damn loon. And then—then, he pulled out that damned Slate.

My tail stilled.

He better not be activating who knows what else is buried under the ground. 

I watched with growing concern as he pointed it toward the small pond where I’d been catching fish earlier. It whirred. Some eerie pulse of energy shot from the Slate toward the water—and then a metal chest rumbled up from the depths. 

I bolted upright.

WHAT.

WHAT KIND OF MAGE NONSENSE—?!?

I barked once, scrambled back several paces, nearly tripped over my own legs. He just waved again. Smug. Like he hadn’t just bent the laws of gravity and sunken treasure to his will with this… glorified rectangle.

He just beams at me, the cocky little brat, walks over and punches the chest.

PUNCHED IT.

With his bare, ridiculous, callused hand.

It thunked open with a clunk.

I stood in absolute disbelief as he whined, shaking out his wrist.

…My respect for him—what little had been climbing—took a brief nosedive off a cliff. He can have the most sophisticated magic rectangle in the world and yet he still opens chests like a caveman? At least have some dignity with it. 

Suddenly, another loud “Ho!” splits through the sky as the Old Man paraglides, seemingly out of nowhere, towards The Boy, not noticing or perhaps caring about my presence. I narrow my eyes at the man. 

Something about him is odd… Even now, up close, he’s lacking a scent. 

“It seems you were able to get your hands on a Spirit Orb. Well done!” 

…Spirit what now? 

Apparently it means something to the boy who quickly signs… wait… signs? My eyes open slightly wider. He signs? But he’s spoken… 

I shake my head again. Strange boy. 

The Old Man seems to have difficulty understanding him, however. 

“CLAIRVOYANCE!” he declared proudly before breaking off into a mischievous chuckle. “Oho, or perhaps something similar. As one gets older, it can become difficult to see what is right before one’s own eyes… However, that which was once hidden from view can often become crystal clear. But perhaps that’s not true for everyone! Oho!” 

I roll my eyes as this Old Man continues to blather on, speaking of ancient civilizations and how this technology came from some long-forgotten age. I yawned. I should’ve been thinking about where I’d sleep for the night, not listening to whatever this was. It seemed almost like dusk was coming on much faster than in my world which was concerning—

Wild’s sharp motions snapped my gaze back. His hands were flying now, angry, his face twisted in frustration. Whatever the Old Man had said, it wasn’t what Wild wanted to hear. Maybe I should have paid more attention. 

“Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll even give you a tip on finding shrines. It’s always best to survey the area by looking around from a high point. Let’s see here… how about you make your way back to the top of the tower again?” 

The Boy shook his head violently, causing the Old Man to chuckle. 

“Alright then, have it your way. Good luck, young one.” Then he wandered off, vanishing into the twilight with that same infuriating calm.

The Boy, (I really need to come up with a name for him), exhaled hard, his shoulders loosening, and he glanced down at me. The grin that spread across his face wasn’t the least bit tired—it was sharp, mischievous.He tilted his head toward the Bokoblin camp still smoldering in the distance. “Hey… you hungry, buddy?” 

I narrowed my eyes, growling low in my throat. Oh, Hylia, he was going to cook them . He was going to roast those beasts and eat them like some savage, wasn’t he?

“Cooooooome on, boy!” The kid said, darting off.

Wild’s POV

Did you know that you can kick explosive barrels? 

…Because it’s pretty efficient.

Twilight’s POV

The world goes white-hot for half a heartbeat. The boom echoes across the hillside, rattling my teeth, and when the smoke clears there’s nothing left of the camp but scattered horns and charred ash.

This lunatic stands there, dusting off his hands, like he’d just pulled off some brilliant tactic instead of nearly blowing us both to the heavens.Goddesses save me, but the brat knew what that barrel was. He had to. If he hadn’t, we’d both be smears on the ground. 

After he’s certain that the camp is safe, he trots down and scoops them up before tucking them away with a satisfied hum. 

At least that eliminates the possibility of eating those pigs. 

What’s left of dinner’s still roasting over a fire pit—miraculously not blown to bits. The slab of meat’s blackened at the edges, but when the boy throws me a piece from the center it’s not bad. A bit tough and charred, but all in all, not bad. 

We sit there together, quiet for once, as the night deepens further. The fire crackles low, painting him in orange light as he licks the grease and ash off his fingers before brushing them off on the hem of his shirt. 

Then that hand starts to creep towards me. Slowly. So. Painfully. SLOWLY. His eyes are fixed anywhere but my face as he whistles nonchalantly. 

Of all the idiotic… 

…He’s so bad at being discreet. 

I stiffen as his hand inches towards my side. Is he SERIOUSLY trying to pet me again? Not tonight. I snap my teeth at him and he reels away. 

“Hey!” he yelps, swearing under his breath. 

I let out another low, warning growl. 

“One of these days, I will pet you.”

I huff, curling back over my meat. And one of these days I bite a finger off. Let’s see if he’s so cuddly then.

Chapter Text

Wild

The sun’s barely peeking over the horizon when I crack my eyes open. It’s way too early to be up, but there’s no way I’m getting any more sleep in this dirt. I was already sore from yesterday’s climbing fiasco, and after a night like that… forget it. I stretch, trying to work the pain out of my back. Next to me, Wolfie’s curled up, dead to the world. His ears twitch every so often, but otherwise, he’s out cold. 

I grin. Perfect.This is it. My moment.

Slowly, so very, very slowly, I reach out. My hand hovers just above all that ridiculously fluffy fur. So soft. So pettable. So—

SNAP.

Wolfie’s jaws flash open, his teeth snapping shut just shy of my fingers. I jerk my hand back with a yelp.

“Fine, jerk,” I mutter. “Don’t let me love you.”

He huffs, lays his head back down, and closes his eyes again like he hasn’t just tried to amputate my hand before breakfast.

Speaking of breakfast… I’m starving.

I sit down criss-cross applesauce and pull the Sheikah Slate into my lap. After last night’s meat feast I picked the rest of the camp clean, hoping that there would be something useful in the boxes and barrels that managed to survive the… um… explosion. 

Honestly, not much. Just a baked mushroom and a few arrows that had their feathers slightly singed. 

So, that means hunting. How hard could it be? I scan the map. I know there’s a forest that’s pretty close by, close enough for walking, but I want to try something new. Ever since I activated that shrine yesterday, there’s been a new mark on my map. It’s blue like the tower ones, just with a slightly different shape. When I tap on it, I get the signature message that the Slate loves to taunt me with; 

Travel? 

I hit yes. 

And suddenly, it feels like my entire body just… poofs. You know that feeling when you’re really light headed? Imagine that all over, before your body explodes into blue light worms.

I don’t even have time to scream before I’m reforming on the ground outside the shrines. My knees buckle and I go down hard on my hands and knees, palms slapping against the dirt. My vision’s spinning, smeared in shades of blue, my stomach twisting. 

Well… teleportation exists I guess. Though I can’t shake the feeling that some of those light worms didn’t come back to my body. Oh, Hylia, what if I came back with like… half a spleen? Or shorter. 

That would really suck. 

Pawsteps crunch beside me and a shadow falls over my back. I roll my eyes upward to see Wolfie staring down at me, ears flicked forward, fierce blue eyes sharp with judgment.

“You dead?” his expression seems to say. I groan into the dirt, still slightly nauseous. Wolfie snorts, like that’s not his problem, and pads a few steps away.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, forcing myself upright. My legs wobble, but I get there. Screw the light-worm-express, this forest isn’t far. We can just walk there. Just like I expected, this thing is practically overflowing with all sorts of goodies. 

Apples, herbs, mushrooms, some sort of glowy mushroom, according to the Slate, all of it’s edible. I pocket as much as I can, though I can’t shake the feeling that I might need something a little… more. After all, I’m now providing for a wolf too, and some protein wouldn’t be bad. 

I steady my bow, just in case something decides to wander by. I mean, those Bokoblins were able to get that nice hunk of meat, it can’t be that hard. So, when I spot a boar snuffling around, my eyes light up. Perfect. Wolfie gets his meat and I get my victory as master provider. Easy.

Except apparently boars are psychic.

The thing lifts its head mid-step, and I freeze. For a moment, we’re both frozen, staring at the other. Then its beady little eyes land on my bow, apparently putting two and two together. 

Then it charges.

“WAIT, NO—”

It plows into me chest-first, knocking me flat on my butt. The air shoots out of my lungs with a grunt as I roll in the dirt, scrambling to not get trampled. It gives a squeal of pride as it runs off through the forest. 

“Owwww….” I mutter. My tail-bone feels bruised but nothing seems broken… except for my ego when I hear a rude snorting to my left. Wolfie is absolutely laughing at me. His ears are perked and I catch his tail swishing back and forth. Like my pain is apparently hilarious. 

“Oh, shut up!” I growl, shoving myself up on one elbow to better glare at him. His ears flick back, apparently not caring enough to get the memo. Fine, if he’s gonna be a little jerk, then; “Go make yourself useful!”

I yank one of the green mushrooms from my pouch and squish it right into his nose. He blinks, surprised, and sneezes.

“Yeah. This.” I try to stuff it in his face again, but he’s faster this time, pulling away with a snarl. “Go fetch me some more of this if you’re gonna sit there judging me.”

His tail stops wagging, and with a grumpy huff, he spins around and trots off into the trees.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” I mutter, brushing dirt off my tunic.

Left to my own devices, I wander a bit more. He’s a fancy dog, he’ll be able to find me. It’s not that big of a forest and surprisingly quiet. There’s not a monster in sight, which I’ll admit, is a little disappointing. I’m sure if Bokoblins could be surprisingly beefy. 

But after a bit, I catch a whiff of smoke on the wind. I tense up, drawing my bow again. I really need to get better hand-held weapons, I really can’t keep relying on arrows, especially since they're such a pain to find, but come on, what am I going to do if it’s monsters? An arrow to the snout would be much faster than whacking it with another stick. 

As I get closer to the smoke, I realize that it’s not just a campfire but a whole cooking pot. It’s a pretty nice setup actually, with a half-collapsed arch nearby casting shade over the cooking pot, a bundle of sticks, and… oh, of course. Old Man Apples.

“Hello, young one.” He’s sitting there with a bow across his knees. As he looks at my muddy, torn outfit up and down, his lips twitch, and he chuckles low in his beard. “A bit of trouble hunting, eh?”

‘Boars are evil.’ I sign. 

“Boars will charge if they catch wind of you. If you wish to bring one down, you must strike from a distance, and from behind, when the animal is still unaware. Quiet feet, steady hand.” He plucks the bow string. “Patience, lad. That is the true hunter’s gift.”

I nod politely before tilting my head towards the pot. ‘Can I?’

He beams. “Of course. Make use of it as you wish.”

‘Thanks.’

Hmmm… 

I riffle through my bag, setting a few of the mushrooms and herbs off to the side. The apples I’ll save for later. Still, there’s no way this is enough. Just where the heck is Wolfie? 

‘Hey… you mind watching this for a minute?’

Old Man Apples gives a nod and I chuck everything into the pot. I’ll cut the mushrooms up later. Once they’ve softened. Yeah. I wander through the forest a bit more, keeping a sharp eye out for wolves and shrooms alike. Nada. So, I settle on the next best thing I can find. This massive pile of leaves wedged under the root of a crooked tree. 

That’s gotta be a prime spot for something! Mushrooms, bugs, whatever. Anything would help spice up this dish at this point. I crouch down and start pawing through the slick brown layers, which, yeah, feels a bit gross, but there’s gotta be something good here!

A twig snaps behind me.

I glance up, my hand itching to my bow, and—oh.

It’s just Wolfie.

Dragging back a whole boar in his jaws. The thing is nearly bigger than him, its tusks catching on roots as he struts into view. His tail’s high and his eyes are gleaming smug satisfaction.

I drop the handful of wet leaves and just stare. “…Are you kidding me?”

He drops the boar with a heavy thud, his tongue lolling out in a grin that says “look what I did, loser.” Then he has the audacity to give me the judgy eyes as he catches me elbow-deep in a leaf pile. 

“Oh, trust me, you’ll be glad I’m doing this when I find us something good.” I riffle through the leaves. “I’m thinking some good mushrooms, maybe some–”

My hand smashes against something hard and I nearly yelp. Was that… a rock? I brush a few more leaves off and… yup, it’s a rock. A very oddly placed rock right in the center of the leaves. Could be bugs under there. I lift it up when suddenly, with a poof! of green sparkles, a tiny… plant… child(??) pops out. 

“Yahaha! You found—”

I let out a very surprised, horribly unmanly shriek. The rock slips out of my fingers and bonks the guy right on the head. The sprout lets out a pitiful squeak as it’s squished. 

“Oh no, oh no, oh no—” I snatch the rock back up. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Please don’t die, please don’t die!”

For a terrifying moment, the little guy just stays, flat as a pancake, before it jumps back to its feet with a little pop! It’s… really cute actually. It’s only about as tall as my forearm with stubby arms and legs and a leafy mask that’s covering its face. 

And the poor thing’s trembling. 

I crouch down, hands fluttering uselessly in the air. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Right? You’re okay?”

It finally steadies, then looks up at me with a trembling voice. “Y-you’re not Hestu…”

“...no?” 

The little one tilts its leafy head, still wary.

“Uh…” I rummage through my pouch desperately, then pull out an apple. I break off a piece and hold it out. “Here. I didn’t mean to… uh… flatten you. Peace offering?”

It hesitates, then toddles closer, taking the apple chunk in its tiny twig-hands. After a nibble, its eyes go wide. “Mmmm! Sweet!” It munches the apple happily, the tension easing out of its little shoulders. Then it blinks up at me again. “It’s funny… you can see us. Most big folk can’t see the forest children.”

…I really don’t know what to say to that, so I just shrug and smile like it’s no big deal because honestly… maybe it is? I really don’t know? I glance at Wolfie who’s tilting his head, so clearly, I’m not hallucinating. That’s a plus. After a bit more munching, the leafy bean’s gaze drifts over to Wolfie. 

“Um… can I… ride him?”

Wolfie’s head whips around at me as I shrug. I mean, he’s small. Probably doesn’t even weigh more than a squirrel. Wolfie growls low in his throat, ears pinned. 

“C’mon,” I coax, nudging his side. “It’ll make him happy.”

The bean looks between us, nervous. “It’s okay if not…”

Wolfie huffs, like this is absolutely beneath a being like him, but still, he lowers himself slightly. The bean’s dark, shiny eyes light up as he scrabbles up and settles between Wolfie’s shoulders. 

Wolfie shoots me one last, ‘I hate you’ glare, then trots forward carefully—his steps slower than usual, like he’s making sure the little sprout doesn’t fall.

I can’t help but smile. “See? You’re a natural babysitter.”

Wolfie growls again, but it seems more half-hearted than usual. I grin, then glance down at the boar he dropped. Well, this ought to be as good as whatever centipede I could find crawling around in those leaves. Taking hold of its neck, I drag it back to where Old Man Apples is. 

…

It turns out dragging a boar is way harder than Wolfie made it look. By the time I get back to camp, my arms are absolutely done. Old Man Apples looks up from poking at the fire. His eyes go wide. “By the Goddess…”

I beam, shoving the boar’s snout closer so he gets the full dramatic effect. ‘Ta-da!’ I sign, stretching the motions wide and flashy enough he can’t possibly miss it.

He strokes his beard, nodding sagely. “My advice must have guided your hand well.”

‘Well, actually Wo–’ but then I catch a glimpse of the wolf in question. He’s standing just behind the nearest tree, half his face and one glowing eye poking out from the trunk. His tail is still high, but the rest of him is definitely hiding.

And doing a terrible job of it.

Oh.

I grin, then drop my hands. 

Oh, my poor shy baby.

‘Yeah, I guess it did.’ Old Man Apples can have his little “wise mentor” moment. He beams and returns to… doing whatever he’s been doing with that bow. Meanwhile, I set to work on skinning the boar with that sword I stole from the Bokoblins. Not the best use for this, but I manage. A few chunks of meat end up in the pot with the herbs and mushrooms from earlier, which by now are a sad, overcooked mush. I stir it around and slap the lid on, pretending I totally meant for it to look this way.

Old Man Apples doesn’t call me out, which I deeply appreciate. He watches for a while, nodding along like I’m doing something brilliant before he dusts off his hands and sighs. “Well, I suppose I should be going.”

‘Oh, wait!’ I rip the lid off the pot. The meat’s still bubbling, the mushrooms have gone from squishy to… well, soup, and the whole thing smells… ugh… it just… smells. ‘Want some for the road?’

His polite smile says everything. “Ah… no, no, you keep it, lad. You’ll need the strength more than I.”

My shoulders sag. Rude. I worked hard on that disaster. But I can’t say that I blame him. He slings his bow over one shoulder, then pauses. “Speaking of strength, your shrine trials. How goes the search? Have you utilized the tower to search?”

‘...’

His sigh could probably put out the campfire. 

‘You haven’t seen any shrines lying around, have you?’ 

He hesitates for a moment, scratching the curl in his beard. “These are the Goddess’s trials, boy. I’m not supposed to interfere.”

‘But…’ I add hopefully.

He rubs at his temple. “...There’s one near the Eastern Abbey. It’s not far from here, but I must warn you; treat that area with caution. Terrible things seem to linger there…”  

I perk up immediately. ‘Got it! THANK YOU!’

He gives me one last long look, clearly regretting every choice that led him here, then turns and shuffles off into the trees. I watch him go, then glance at the pot. It’s bubbling. Ominously. 

…hmm… 

“Anybody want the first bite?” I say, glancing towards Wolfie. He pads forward, the bean swinging its stubby legs into my boy’s side. Once they get close enough to really see my creation, the  bean leans in, his mask tilted over the bowl, and takes the tiniest sniff. 

It’s almost hurtful how fast he reels back. O-oh, um… wow, that’s—uh, strong!” His voice squeaks and cracks as those dark eyes begin to water. “I think… I think I probably need to go home now! Hestu will probably be worried about his seeds anyway…” 

“…Seed?”

The bean fidgets. “Oh, nothing, nothing, just, um… forest business! You wouldn’t understand.” Then it looks back up at me with those shiny dark eyes, a little more earnest now. “But, um… thank you. For the apple. And for not squishing me… too much.”

I can’t help but grin. “Anytime, buddy.”

It lifts one hand and gives me a bashful little wave. “You’re… both welcome in the Korok Forest anytime. And, if you find other Koroks on your travels, please say hi to them for me, okay? We all… really like it when big folk notice us.”

I nod. 

The bean beams, then turns to Wolfie. Before the wolf can dodge or growl, the tiny Korok flings its stubby arms around his thick, fluffy neck and squeezes. Wolfie freezes as the little one buries its face in his fur and murmurs, “Bye, Mr. Fluffy.” 

And then—poof! A swirl of glittering green sparkles erupts as the Korok vanishes, leaving nothing but the faintest scent of leaves and sap in the air. Wolfie yelps and whirls around in a circle, like someone set fire to his tail. 

I can’t help but laugh at him. “What, scared of a little glitter?” 

Oh, if looks could kill. He growls at me before turning a suspicious eye on the stew. 

“You want some?” 

Wolfie lowers his head, sniffs the pot, and then—reluctantly, painfully—takes a few laps with his tongue. The gag of disgust that follows is probably the loudest one I’ve ever heard in my life. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, scooping a bite for myself with my hand. “I’ll get better, promise.” Before I can think too hard about it, I shovel… whatever this is into my mouth. It’s…  mushy. Weirdly sweet. And… a little metallic. Not my best work. I wince but keep chewing. “See? We’re suffering together.”

Wolfie huffs through his nose and flops down. 

At least the meat’s not too bad. I pick out a few chunks and toss them down to Wolfie before devouring the rest. Once I’m certain all the good bits have been picked out, I stand up, stretching out my arms. The rest of it… well, I’m sure some nice Bokoblins will enjoy it. 

“Alright! Next stop—shrrrriiiiine!”

I swear Wolfie groans, but I just grin. “That’s the spirit.”

Wolfie’s POV

As soon as we step foot in the Eastern Abbey Ruins, I know that something’s wrong. This entire plateau is usually brimming with life, but here, there’s just… silence. The birds vanish all at once, there’s no flutter of insect wings, no cries of nearby monsters. 

…Nothing.

I hate it.

Even Wild slows down as we approach. That’s what I’ve decided to call him, at least for the time being. It seems to fit him. Except for now. Usually, I’m trying to get him to stop licking strange rocks or poking anything that moves with a stick, but here, he’s quiet. Is he… nervous? 

No, he can’t be. It’s probably indigestion from that stew. 

Still, we skirt around these ruins, keeping our eyes out. The shrine sits at the center of it all, glowing faintly—too faintly—like even it doesn’t want to be here. Ruins sprawl around us in looping, crumbled corridors. Moss and vines carpet everything, like nature’s determined to slowly overtake this land. 

And then there are the machines.

At first glance, they look like statues. They’re short and vaguely… urn shaped, with rusted, spidery limbs sticking out of their bottoms. They look ancient, maybe even older than the shrines. One’s got a nest tucked in its elbow joint. Another has a small bird hopping between its legs, pecking bugs out of the moss.

…they look harmless. 

Still, I keep low, nose to the ground, ears pinned. Every time the wind shifts, I catch a faint whiff of burning, old oil, something sharp and sour that makes my hackles prickle. My tail won’t stop twitching.

Wild doesn’t seem to linger on them for too long. He’s too focused on the shrine. He kicks a loose stone and it clatters off the wall. “C’mon, I just wanna go inside and touch the sacred ancient secrets, is that too much to ask?”

Yes. Yes, it is.

I pace, circling him, eyes flicking back to the Guardians. One in particular. Its shell is cracked, but its eye—its eye—

I freeze.

That eye is glowing.

It’s faint, barely noticeable. Probably nothing more than a trick of the light, but still, my lips peel back in a growl. I snap my head toward Wild, and bark once. 

“I know…” he mutters, feels around the rubble. “But don’t worry, we’ll be done with this soon.” 

Click.

I whip back. The thing moved. Just the head, but it definitely moved. Enough to center that round, lidless eye on Wild’s back. A high-pitched whine builds in the air. The ground vibrates with it, but Wild doesn’t seem to hear it. He’s too busy squinting at a stone wall like somehow that’s more important right now. 

I lunge back to Wild, snarling and snapping at his sleeve, tugging, anything to drag him away. He blinks down at me, confused. His mouth opens, slowly—too slow. Everything he does is too slow. 

A high pitch beeping begins to come from the ‘statue’ and all I can think is that it sounds like a bomb. 

“...Wolfie?” 

I slam into him, shoulder-first, my teeth catching his tunic as I haul him sideways. He yelps as we tumble to the ground just as—

SSSHZZZKK

—a laser scorches through the space where he was standing, searing a line into the stone.

The sound rattles my skull. Wild’s eyes are huge as he stares at the scorch mark inches from his boot, his jaw practically on the floor. His mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish out of water, as the thing hones back in on us, that irritating beep growing rapidly louder. 

“MOVE.” I snarl, sinking my teeth into his arm. It’s drastic, but not compared to the threat we’re facing. At worst, I’ll leave a bruise. 

Even being grazed by this thing could mean death. 

I barrel ahead, barely able to drag him behind a crumbling wall in time. The laser slams into it, sending rubble and debris raining down on us. Dust coats my fur and gets up my nose, but I barely notice. 

“What were you thinking?!” The words rip out of me in a growl before I can stop myself. I’m baring my teeth, snarling without meaning to, hackles raised like I’m ready to fight him instead of those death machines. But I don’t care right now. This idiot was just standing there! Gaping at rocks while that things was ready to fry him–

He’s not even looking at me. 

Instead, those wide, panicked eyes are staring out at nothing as his chest heaves like a dying deer’s. One arm is half-curled around his ribs while the other limp at his side. His mouth open in a panicked gasp like he can’t pull in enough air. 

I let out a soft, worried huff, but he doesn’t respond. 

I lean in close, nose to his throat, my breath hot on his skin. There’s no scent of blood, not anywhere except for his arm, from my bite.

But I’ve seen this look before, usually in the eyes of prey. Of a monster that knows its time in this world is almost over. Pure panic, where the mind can’t do anything but freeze. 

Prey-locked.

I whine, and press my muzzle into his chest. Come on, Wild… Come on…

“I—can’t—” It’s barely a whisper, choked and broken. “Why… why can’t I—”His breath hitches. His whole body jolts and for a second, I think he’s going to pass out.

A new sound cuts through the ringing in my ears.  Metal scraping stone. I whip my head toward it. There’s another one. It’s eye is still dim, the head sluggishly spinning around, but the purple malice that’s coursing through it is steadily growing stronger. 

Oh no. No, no.

One we barely escaped. Two will kill us, easy. 

I shove my nose under Wild’s arm, trying to force him upright. He collapses back down, wheezing. There’s no strength in him. Come on, Wild! I paw at him. I can feel the weight of the machine’s eye slowly settling onto us. It’s only a moment before it locks on. I nip at his chin, tug at his tunic, and yank at him until the fabric tears in my mouth. 

And still—he won’t move.

My ears twitch, tracking the rising whirrrr of its laser charging again. …And if I stay next to him, we’re both going to die.

So, I tear myself from his side and launch forward, my claws scraping against the ground as I bolt into the open. The mech’s eye sears into me. I snarl back, low and sharp, forcing its gaze, away from him and onto me. 

Good. That’s it. Look at me, you rusted freak. Come on—

The beam erupts in a white-hot shriek, and I hurl myself to the left. It slams into the ground where I’d stood. My paws burn from the heat, but I keep circling the thing, growling as I do so. 

It charges up again, this time faster.

And I’m way too close to it. 

The beam rushes toward me and I brace for the fire, for the tearing heat of it—

But something slams in front of me.

Wild.

He bursts out of nowhere, planting himself between me and this death sentence, raising that miserable excuse for a shield. I freeze in absolute horror as the laser collides with it. But somehow—somehow—it holds.  Only for an instant. Then it shatters, exploding into splinters that tear across his chest and arms. He hisses between his teeth, but quickly reaches for the bow on his back, firing off an arrow. 

All faster than you could blink 

The arrow punches into the guardian’s eye, sparks bursting as the purple glow sputters. Its head whirrs around wildly, that eye unfocused. He grabs my fur with his torn hand, tugging hard. “Come on!” he pants, hauling me toward the wall near the shrine. 

I stumble after him, still shaken, still trying to catch up with what just happened. Did he just… take the hit for me? He should be dead—goddesses, he should be nothing more than a smear on the ground—and yet he’s charging toward the wall, blood dripping from his arm. 

I glance back at the mech. Its eye is sparkling and oil’s leaking from it, but it’s definitely recovering. I force myself to run faster as Wild slams himself against the wall. His bow is thrown over his shoulder as he starts climbing, leaving bloody streaks where his palms drag.

I leap after him, my claws scratching the rubble as I scramble upward. I’m lucky enough to get my front paws over the top but the rest of my body is flailing. My back claws slip on slick moss. Usually, Midna would help me up jumps like these. Stone chips break away under my claws as I kick harder.  

That horrible beeping starts up right as Wild makes it to the top of the wall. Without another thought, he drops flat and seizes my paws in his hands. With a desperate yell, he yanks. I yelp as we tumble over the edge of the wall to safety, in a tangle of limbs and fur. And not a moment too soon. The monster’s beam smashes into the wall, harmless now, but… 

…Holy *************************** we almost died. 

For a heartbeat, there’s only silence as the mech slowly powers down again. Apparently, it’s already lost interest. 

And then—

Wild starts laughing. Loudly. I jerk my head towards him as he shakily sits up, picking a few splinters out of his mangled arm. I… I can’t stand it. 

He almost died. He froze. If I hadn’t—if he hadn’t—no, if either of us had hesitated a second longer, we’d probably be wiped off the face of this planet. How can he just laugh about that? I snarl right in his face with a sharp bark that leaves my throat raw. 

Because it’s not funny. Nothing about this situation is funny. 

For a moment, his grin falters. “Aw, come on, don’t give me that look.” He stands up and glances toward the shrine door. “Listen. I’ll go check it out. You…” Before I can even react, he gives my ear a playful flick. “You wait out here and keep watch, alright? Be my guard dog.”

…I growl. 

“Guard wolf,” Wild corrected immediately, holding up his hands in surrender. “Guard wolf. My mistake.”He toddles over to the entrance of the shrine, pressing the slate against the pedestal. It beeps once, apparently allowing him entrance. A softer smile spreads across his face as he glances back over his shoulder at me. “I’ll be fast!”  

Then he heads down into the belly of the shrine. 

I huff, pace in a tight circle, ears flicking, every muscle tight. …Might as well. I slump by the door.

Wild’s POV

Last time I went into one of these shrines, I got Magnesis, which, don’t get me wrong, is very cool—throwing iron doors around and fishing treasure chests out of ponds is a good time. But right now, I’m hoping for something a bit… flashier. 

And a bit more suitable for dealing with those murder crabs over there. Though, now that I think about it, Magnesis should work on them… Definitely worth a shot later. ..From a safe distance. 

The Slate gave a little chime, apparently signalling that the download was done. I leaned forward, watching as the symbols scrolled across the screen, rearranging themselves until two new runes glowed on the interface.

Wait, two? 

Ah, heck yea. 

And they were labeled as… Remote Bombs.

I gripped the Slate so tight my knuckles went white. Now that’s more like it. …Might as well see what this baby can do. I tapped on the round one first and the bomb just appeared in the palm of my hand. It was the same blue color as the rest of the cool Sheikah tech and way lighter than I expected. Very easy to throw. I lobbed it toward the far wall. 

“Alright,” I muttered as it rolled to a stop. “Let’s see what you can do.”

I tapped the trigger rune.

BOOM.

The blast shook the entire shrine, ringing in my ears and sending sparks of blue across the stone walls. 

…oh, this is going to be so much fun.