Work Text:
Title: Early Rising
Date Written: 9/28/2025
Word Count: 1460
Prompt: Link finds the Master Sword.
The day was steadily growing darker, and Link still didn't know where he was. Well, that wasn't completely accurate; he knew he was in the "Secret" Woods - though they weren't very secret at all - but that was about it. At some point, he'd crawled through one of the giant, fallen trees into a small, closed-off clearing. When he turned back around to leave, the trunk was gone, leaving him hopelessly lost.
Honestly, it was his own fault. The village boys had dared him to go into the woods and collect ten stones. It would've been so easy to lie, to walk off into the outskirts and steal pebbles from Octorocks, but his pride demanded he play fair. It was like his Ma loved to say: too much courage, too little common sense.
There was no sun to tell him how long had passed since he entered, but the way his stomach cramped from hunger said that it had been at least a few hours of aimless wandering. It didn't help that the forest was so humid, leaving him sweating without an outlet.
His green tunic - loving stitched by his Ma years ago, a parody of the uniform worn by the Hero of Legend - was sticking to his slight frame, ripped in places from sharp thorns and long branches. His leggings were in a similarly sorry state, the white fabric stained with brown and green from more than a few tumbles down nigh-invisible trenches in the ground, hidden by the thick mist layering itself over the air.
His dirty-blond hair was a mess of mud, sticks, and blades of grass, and his green cap was only on his head because it had been pinned there that morning; if not for that, it would've been lost to the woods and its monsters ages ago. Speaking of monsters, he couldn't help but think, as he came across an ambling blue chu-chu. The slimy creatures were mindless, but that didn't mean they weren't dangerous, especially when you didn't have a weapon.
Edging around the blob before it could realize he was there, he continued onward, pretending as though he couldn't feel his joints aching and muscles threatening to cramp from the extended exercise. It was like Link was inactive - he was one of the most active people in his village after all - but even he didn't have the stamina to be running around for hours straight, especially when he had to run away from monsters or when he couldn't keep from tripping into a shallow ravine.
With his head on a swivel looking for hostile creatures, it was only natural that he didn't notice the tree root until his foot caught on it. If it had happened any earlier in the day, he may have been able to catch himself before he could tumble forward, using his nimble nature to keep upright. But he was tiring, and his entire body throbbed like an angry bruise, so there was nothing for him to do but shout as he fell forward, rolling down a steep slope.
The ride down was painfully fast, filled with bumps and scrapes and the tinge of blood in the air when his head collided with a pointy rock and he couldn't keep his right ankle from flailing into the trunk of a tree. By the time he came to a stop, his lungs burned from how heavy he was breathing, his throat ached from grunting and screaming, and his body was littered with wounds. The worst was his ankle, already swollen an ugly red; he probably sprained it, but with his luck, it may even have broken against the unbowing tree.
On the bright side, there seemed to a light source coming from somewhere up ahead. His heart thumped harder with the hope of finally being free, and despite the pain humminh through his bones, he limped towards the brightness.
What he found when he poked his head through the foliage wasn't the exit to the woods, but instead a pedastal made of brilliant white stone, with a sword impaled in the center. The blade was a startling silver, the guard and hilt a deep blue, and appeared to be where the glow came from. The sight of it made Link's heart jump, because there was no way he had managed to come across the Hero's sword while lost in the Secret Woods. There was just no way.
But it was just like the stories the village elders told in the square each year, and there was no way it could be coincidence. It was too. . . realistic.
He couldn't wait to tell the other boys, to tell his Ma what he'd found. Of course, he would have to find his way out of the woods first, but-
A rustling from behind shocked him from his thoughts, and he stumbled to face whatever was making that sound. It was probably just another chu-chu, he had yet to see anything bigger than that, despite the supposed danger the woods held; honestly, the danger probably came from how easy it was to get lost.
Only, apparently, there were bigger monsters to be found. Because the ccreature that met Link in that holy place wasn't a chu-chu, but a moblin. Its dog-pig face was screwed up in rage, and the massive weapon was trembling from how tightly the beast was holding it. Abruptly, all the the blood in Link's body left his head, leaving him dizy. There was only one thing he could do, but there was nowhere to run but towards the sword.
Maybe, the pedestal would keep the monster at bay, and Link would be able to get away when it inevitably got bored? It wasn't much of a plan - nor was it very brave - but it was the best he could come up with. So, before the moblin could grow any closer, the boy hobbled as quickly as he could to the Hero's blade, trying not to fall in his haste.
In a manner of seconds, he was safely ensconced at the sword's side, watching with a budding dread as the monster grewc closer, unperterbed by the mystical light, nor the supposed holy powers of the weapon. It growled at him, bareing its teeth, a promise of pain and death should it get hold of him.
There was nothing else for him to do. There was nowhere to run, no places for him to hide. The moblin was going to catch him, and it would kill him, and no one would be the wiser to his ugly fate. Tears built up along his lashes, and sobs rumbled in his throat. What could a weak little kid like him possibly-
The sword was glowing brighter. Or it looked like it was, with the way his vision blurred. As if asking him to wield it. To pull it from the ground. Or maybe it was asking him, a tiny voice in the back of his head that didn't sound like much of a voice at all. "Use me use me use me."
Well, even if it was a figment of his imagination, at least trying to use the blade would be doing something. It was better than letting himself be killed. Even if the sword wouldn't leave the stone for anyone but the reincarnation of the Hero, but he had to do something- anything-
Warmth flooded him, from his fingertips down to his toes. Every ache and pain faded beneath the wave of light, until he felt good as new. When he opened his eyes - unaware that he had even closed them - the veil had lifted from the ground, and the sun once more shone down on the inhabitants of the forest. The moblin was gone, and the sword was in Link's hand, thrumming like it had a heartbeat of its own. It felt like reuniting with an old friend.
Even if the memories of his previous lives were still locked away, perhaps forever, there was something nostalgic about the way his hand wrapped around the sword's hilt, the warmth that the blade fed into his body; healing magic, and something else, something that made him muscles feel stronger, his tactical mind sharper, his heart more courageous.
It was not the same Link who exited the Secret Woods that day, but someone much older, wielding a sword bigger than his body and eyes glimmering with ancient wisdom. Though the boy had spent half a day wandering between the trees, not even an hour had passed outside. And barely a few minutes after he left the forest once more, he disappeared, looking for an adventure to justify freeing the Master Sword from its slumber.