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Legend cursed at the shining golden gate.
A golden gate meant another hero. It meant their eight would become nine. It meant another Link whose life they had to disrupt.
Screw all that.
It had been three or four weeks since the last golden gate and the welcoming of Four into their numbers. Since then, they had been through three different, much less divine-feeling portals, making them all assume that Four would be the last of their heroes. Turns out they were wrong.
How many more would have to join them? Just how big was the threat they would have to face? And how long before he could walk right up to Hylia and tell her to buzz off-
“Ack! Legend!” Wind yelled, throwing his arms up to keep Legend’s feathers out of his face. Whoops.
Legend forced his flaring wings to chill out, muttering a quick apology to the tiny Sailor. It wasn’t Legend’s fault he was standing so close, after all.
Well, there was no use in trying to fight it. Luckily, they had already packed up camp and were set to begin traveling. At least this time, Hylia let them prepare. He waited for no one before stepping into it.
Walking through it felt like every other time before. Disorienting. Cold. Wrong. One would think Hylia could spare a better way of traveling, but no, of course not. It didn’t seem she cared for their destination, either. The moment his feet found purchase in this new time, Legend was practically assaulted by the weather.
Rain fell from the heavens in freezing cold sheets, immediately drenching through all the layers of his clothing. Someone yelped from the sudden shock of it. Strong gales blew from their left, causing Legend to stumble into the person nearest to him, Warriors, who was flaring out his wings to try to keep himself balanced. Legend nearly did the same until he then heard the thunder that boomed and echoed all around them, followed quickly by flashing lightning just beyond them. His wings stayed pressed tightly against himself. It was more likely that the wind would simply knock him down if he tried, anyway.
A quick check assured that the two smallest were standing with others; Wind leaned against Wild, and Four with Twilight.
Hylia had dropped them in the middle of a god-forsaken lightning storm.
How lovely. He could already imagine how long it would take to dry out all his belongings.
Even better, it seemed as if they were on some kind of platform or elevated plain. Only darkness was visible past the edge, and no one would dare get close enough to see what might lie beyond. Not unless they were keen on getting blown off. Well, he’d keep an extra eye out for Wild and Hyrule.
Though, perhaps there was a bit of an upside to all this: They wouldn’t have to look far for their new hero.
In the center of it all stood a young man pointing a glowing blue Master Sword in their direction, his stance one of tired defense. The man looked confused, surprised maybe; it was hard to make out his exact expression through the heavy rain.
The leader of their rag-tag group, Time, made his way to the front of them, hands up in a sign of peace. His expression was unnoteworthy, but Legend knew that he was actively fighting back a grimace. The Old Man hated the rain; anything more than a drizzle made him irritable. Owls were not as resistant to rain as other birds, after all.
Time tried calling out to the man, but his words were stolen by the wind. Legend couldn’t even hear most of the words. The Master Sword stayed raised in warning.
Hmm, that might be a problem. It had been difficult enough to explain themselves to any of the heroes in the first place, armed to the gills and suddenly appearing out of nowhere. It would be nearly impossible to do so if they had no true way of communication. This hero was ready for a fight.
And perhaps he had the advantage. Maybe this horrid weather was a staple of his time; if so, he surely had the advantage over any of them.
Before they could find out if that would be the case, the hero crumpled to the ground as a puppet with cut strings. And as if in pity, the rain began to let up, softening from a torrential downpour to a more tolerable rainfall. Time, Warriors, and himself, as the closest ones, surged toward the young man. Legend nearly jumped into the air, ready to spring into a quick flight to reach the fallen hero, but caught himself just before he spread his wings.
That was close. He certainly wasn’t heavy enough to fight against the winds- they would’ve easily snatched him up and carelessly tossed him away. Instead, he clinked his heels together and whispered an incantation under his breath. The Pegasus boots sang with magic. Legend ran.
When he reached the hero, the only thing he could think was, oh. This was much worse than he thought.
Just a first glance revealed pressing injuries that only one fresh from a battle should bear. Dark gashes of blood that must have been stab wounds stained the rain-soaked green tunic, and a long cut down the length of his thigh. His left arm twisted wrongly. Any exposed flesh was either black and blue, or angry red.
In the hand that had been holding the Master Sword, the palm and fingers of the hero’s glove looked as if melted onto the skin of his hand. Exactly in the shape of her hilt.
And perhaps worst of all, the hero, battered and broken, was only still a teenager (though that was nothing new).
Warriors finally caught up, kneeling beside the two of them. Immediately, the Captain acted, pulling the hero to himself and brushing his fingers over the evident injuries, assessing them. Being held like a child made the hero look even younger.
It was then Legend realized: the hero had no wings.
They were not folded under him, as he’d initially believed. Nor were they dark and just hard to see in the still-falling rain. No, he simply had none. Legend’s wings fluttered at the thought. He forced them back down.
The others caught up, questions in their eyes, but silence on their lips.
Then, something tugged the edge of his soul. Legend’s gaze flew up, searching. However, there was no new swirling portal in front of them. He turned.
The golden gate still stood. No.
All of the heroes bristled at once, those who could, flaring their wings in anger.
“It seems she already expects us to travel back.” Time commented. There was no lost love for Hylia in his tone. His single blue eye stared at the new hero for only a moment, before continuing, “It’s best we comply.”
Even though it was insane. Even though they had never been asked to travel through the portals more than once in the same day, let alone only a few, rain-soaked minutes after arriving. However, there was little to be done about it. Either they went through the portal willingly, or Hylia made a new one and forced them through it. He’d found that out the hard way.
At their best, the portals were disorienting and sickening. At the worst, Legend felt as though he was being twisted inside out. His defiance had instantly turned to regret; it had been horrible. They could not do that to the boy.
It seemed like Twilight, who had also experienced the forced portal, had come to the same conclusion. “Let’s go.” He agreed.
“No, wait.” Came a whisper.
The boy was blinking up at them, his one bruised eyelid staying stubbornly closed.
Time knelt beside the boy. “I truly do apologize, but we must go. She…” He pauses, as if holding back as much harshness as he was able, “Hylia has willed it.”
“But,” the boy starts, trying to straighten himself as if to pull away from the Captain and move himself. A cry of pain results from the simple attempt of movement. He looks out into the nothing that waits beyond the plateau, “She’s down there. Zelda.”
And just like that, it got even worse.
While Legend could’ve put two-and-two together (a part of him already had, the rest just didn’t want to admit it), those words confirmed it. He was still on his adventure. Or from the looks of it, was just shy of completing it and returning home. But now he wouldn’t be going home.
Getting back to his feet, a knee definitely ‘popped.’ Still, Time directed his attention to the other heroes. “Come, let’s give him the moment.”
Quickly, Time and Twilight herded the remaining heroes into the portal. “We’ll meet you on the other side.” The Old Man winked at them (or had it just been a blink?) before he stepped through. Only Warriors, Legend, and the new hero remained.
The boy wasted no time. Tugging on Warriors’ scarf, he tried to pull himself up, to no avail. “Please, I just, I need to see her.” He whispered, voice ragged, desperation clear on his face. It was not a question.
Even if he wanted to, Legend was not strong enough nor big enough to carry a passenger. Not anymore. Not since…
Stupid bleeding heart, he was. He locked eyes with Warriors. At first, he wasn’t sure what he would ask, other than perhaps to find a way to help the kid. “Captain?”
Warriors, who had appeared as torn as Legend himself was, simply nodded, expression cooling into one of resolve. He slowly rose to his feet. The boy in his arms whimpered. His blistered hands shook as he tried to grab onto the Captain.
Though the rain still poured from above, and the winds still tugged all around, Warriors lifted his wings. And jumped into the air. Within only a few seconds, Legend was lost from sight, and Warriors and his new friend soared.
He tried flying straight just long enough to clear the plateau. Even that little bit of distance was hard. He was confident enough to know that he would not be knocked completely out of the air, but to end up exactly where he planned was less likely.
Luckily, all he planned was the dropoff. Once there was nothing but empty air beneath him, Warriors dove.
The new hero screamed. First, in surprise and fear, then it shifted more toward joy, if not disbelief. The boy clung onto him so tightly, the Captain would not be surprised to wake up with bruises in the shapes of fingers the next morning. Regardless, he knew there was no chance he would drop him.
As they fell, the storm was left behind. The thunder faded, and the rain lightened more and more the further they got. How peculiar. Warriors kept his wings flared, slowing their descent. There was no way of telling just how far the surface was, after all. To his relief, land was within sight.
Shapes began sharpening underneath. A large stone statue made the new hero squirm, tossing his head back to get a better view. Warriors leaned toward it, letting muscle memory guide the movement of his wings. There was a little platform near the base of the statue, and at the very least, he could get them there. He would, given the pure determination this new hero held to get there.
Warriors circled the back of the statue’s head and back around to the front. They drew closer.
He heard her before he saw her.
“Link!”
Zelda. Immediately he was sure. Dressed in all white, with long golden hair and a peculiar expression set on her face.
And then a golden gate opened before them, too close to maneuver around. Invisible hands grabbed him. Warriors was forced into the gate, the new hero held tightly in his arms.
The darkness enveloped them.