Chapter Text
The Great Deku Tree dies.
It's sudden, unexpected, and without fanfare. Grey leaves flutter to the ground from the canopy and crinkle under Link's boots as he approaches the other Kokiri.
"What's going to happen to us?" Fado sobs into Saria's shoulder. Saria can say nothing to comfort her, so she simply squeezes her tighter.
"This is all your fault!" Mido cries, pointing at Link. "You… you must've done something to him!"
"That's enough, Mido!" Saria scolds. "Link, you did nothing wrong–"
Link isn't paying attention. He can feel the curse of the Lost Woods creeping into their forest haven. The grass curls under their toes, recoiling from the dark magic that seems to emanate from what was once their guardian deity.
A fairy never comes to him, in the end.
"Ahh! Big brother, the sky! Look up at the sky!"
Link aims Aryll's precious telescope higher. A monstrous bird flies overhead, a blonde girl with pointy ears dangling helplessly in its clutches. A nearby ship chases after them, launching cannonball after cannonball, but the bird is too agile, too clever. None of the shots find their mark.
"What should we do?" Aryll asks, voice warbling. Link lowers the telescope, watching the bird with his own eyes as it flies north with its prize.
"Let's go home, we need to make sure Grandma is safe," he says, steadfast. Aryll nods in agreement, and they scramble down the ladder from the lookout.
Zelda glares at Link as she hands the folded-up sailcloth to Groose, who accepts it with a smug smile.
It wasn't my fault, I was sabotaged, he tries, then rethinks his response. I'm sorry. I really did want to perform the Wing Ceremony with you.
But he can't. And he doesn't. He revises his apology over and over as he waits for Zelda to finish performing with Groose. They can still go flying together, he can still make her understand.
But he doesn't have the chance. He never sees her again.
"–ink! Can you hear me?"
A shove jostles his shoulder, a scream catching in his throat. Link thinks the limb is dislocated, but, collapsed on his stomach in the spring water, he can't easily turn to see it. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and almost chokes.
"Easy, there," Rusl turns him onto his back and helps him sit up. The movement makes Link's head spin.
"Ilia–" he coughs, wincing. He tries to gesture towards the Faron Woods.
"What happened? Did someone take her?" Rusl asks. Link hunches over, the pain in his head too much to respond. "Bo, help him back to the village. I'm going after them."
Link pushes into the ground and tries to force himself to stand. Rusl, seemingly anticipating that response, stops him.
"Link, I know you want to save Ilia," he says, "but Ordon needs you here." Rusl presents the sword meant for the royal family, still wrapped in its packaging, and hands it to him. "I'll find them, don't worry. You stay behind and protect the village."
Link nods, squeezing the weapon in his hands as he watches Rusl ride away from Ordon, never to be seen again.
"Mr. Smith, I realize it's not ideal–"
"Not ideal? It's insane! He's lucky to have survived in the first place!"
Link's head throbs. He wishes they would stop yelling. The noise wakes him up, forces him to feel the fire creeping into his skull from where the skin is split open, where he hit his head on the cobblestone–
Where he was thrown onto the cobblestone. By Vaati, who had swatted him out of the way like a bug and turned Zelda into stone.
"The knights won't be able to see the Picori. A child is the only option," the king urges.
"Do you hear yourself?" his grandfather snaps. "Wasn't losing one child enough?"
"Zel…da…" he whispers. Tears leak from his eyes.
Link lifts the scorched arm uselessly, understanding well before he even feels for her pulse that the old woman is long gone. Burns drape her forearms, the flesh almost dripping off her bones. The monsters she'd gotten in a confrontation with had fared far worse, however; most of them were now merely ashy marks on the ground.
The acrid smell of burnt meat still lingers in the air. If he had been a little earlier, wasted less time meandering about in the woods, could he have helped? Could he have saved her?
There's little point in asking such questions. Link leaves the body and continues on his way.
I am in the dungeon of the castle. Please, please help me…
Link stirs to consciousness at the sound of a chest being opened. He cracks open his eyes, but before he can force himself up, a hand gently threads itself through Link's hair.
"Link, are you awake?" his uncle asks.
He grumbles and nods in response. His uncle chuckles fondly at his expense.
"I'm going out for a while," he explains. "I'll be back by morning. Don't leave the house, okay?"
Link shoves his face deeper into the pillows. Something has slipped from his mind, but like most dreams, he doesn't remember it. He listens to the wooden floorboards creak under his uncle's weight as he walks out the door and closes it softly behind him.
The rain patters against his window. Link drifts back to sleep.
Link has made a huge mistake.
None of his training could have prepared him for the raw chaos of the battlefield. If there are orders, he can't hear them over the shrieks and cries of friend and foe alike. He swipes uselessly at a monster as it approaches, only able to focus on keeping his distance.
He thinks there might still be time to fall back, to retreat–apologize to the captain of the guard for running ahead and accept whatever punishment he's earned, but before he can flee, he spots General Impa facing off against a red-clad warrior. She's stumbling under his assault, the ruthless path of his spearwork outlined in fire. He rushes in to help her without a second thought.
The enemy warrior breathes a fan of flames, catching both Impa and Link in its breadth. Link covers his face with his arm, certain he's about to be roasted alive, but when he looks up, gold floods his vision. A magical shield has manifested to protect them both, cutting through the sea of fire and leaving them face-to-face with the enemy.
"Ah, so you're the one…" the warrior speaks. Impa and Link stare in surprise alike at the golden triangle mark glowing on the back of his left hand. He opens his mouth, searching for the words to explain, but before he can say anything, giant claws dig into his torso and lift him off the ground.
Impa shouts in alarm but is unable to reach him before the dragon launches into the sky. He struggles uselessly in its grip, expecting to be thrown from a deadly height or maybe eaten, but instead, the dragon simply flies away from the battlefield. It flies for hours– away from Hyrule, over a dark valley, and into a twisted rose garden.
The dragon puts him down. Bleeding and exhausted, he crumples to the cobblestone under his own weight. Dark, heeled boots click into view.
"You found him already?" the woman says, grinning. "Ah, but he would appear wherever he was needed, wouldn't he?" A hand pets his head, long nails scratching against his scalp. Link gasps and he tries to scramble away.
"Oh, Link, there's no need to run!" the woman coos. A dark, thorny vine wraps around his ankle and drags him back to her feet. Her expression is unreadable underneath her crow-like mask. "You don't have to fight anymore. I'll keep you safe here, with me."
Link struggles against her magic. The mysterious witch cackles.
Link spends most of his time unconscious.
After the first few failed escape attempts, Cia, his captor, had given up on letting him roam freely. She keeps him confined in a magical crystal and floats him around with her wherever she goes. It's cramped and makes his joints ache, but he's long given up on searching for an escape. The sorceress can't be reasoned with, pacing the halls of her warped manor of darkness and muttering to herself day after day, only occasionally turning to him to speak at him, and never with.
Most of the time, she's in her room, giggling to herself and lurking around some kind of artifact that, as he's learned, allows her to see into different times.
"I wonder what the Hero of Time is up to today?" she might ask, or "This is my favorite of the Hero of Legend's adventures!" Link can't see into her crystal ball, but he recognizes the titles. If she's going to drag him around with her, he wishes she would at least let him watch.
One day, when she gazes into the orb, instead of grinning as she normally would, she frowns.
"What is…?" she mumbles. "Something isn't right." She waves her arm to skim through the timeline, the light from the artifact casting harsh shadows across the walls as she becomes visibly more frustrated. Finally, she quells the magic, and the room goes dark. Link watches in uneasy silence.
"Shadow!" she calls out. "What is the meaning of this?" A darkness in the room twitches and shudders, then creeps over Cia and Link.
Whatever do you mean? the shadow seems to ask, its wispy voice sounding directly inside their heads. I fulfilled my end of the deal. You have what you want.
"Don't play games with me!" Cia shouts. "The hero… he's disappearing from the timeline. Why?"
It's none of your concern, it says.
"I'm the guardian of the timeline. Of course it's my concern!"
Perhaps you should have considered that before you spirited away your hero from his destiny, the shadow mocks. Outraged, the sorceress lashes out with her staff, firing a blast of dark magic at the voice. The shadow, unfazed, absorbs her magic, concentrates it, and releases it back towards her. The attack lances through her abdomen, and she crumples to the ground with a gasp. Her mask clatters against the floor, having been knocked loose from her face.
You've fulfilled your purpose, the shadow says, slinking away. Enjoy the time you have left with your beloved Link.
The sorceress trembles, hand pressed to her stomach. After several slow breaths, she rises to her knees, the sorrow in her eyes on full display as she looks towards Link with regret.
"I've made a terrible mistake…" she sobs. She reaches out, hand making contact with the walls of Link's crystal prison, and the magic shatters, releasing him from its hold.
"I have no right to ask this of you," Cia says. "But, you're the only one who can fix things…" She holds out her dark staff, still emanating unnatural energy. "Take this. It has the power to open portals through time and space."
As Link wraps his fingers around the staff, it pulses in resonance with his spirit. Utilizing its magic comes as naturally to him as breathing.
"There are others who share your spirit–those bearing the name Link," she explains. "They are in grave danger. You must rescue them, and destroy the shadow that threatens to upheave time itself. Please…"
Link points the staff at an empty space in the room, allowing its magic to flow through his body, and a dark corridor opens before him. He glances back at his captor, collapsed pathetically on the floor. For the first time since he was taken to this horrid place, he swears he feels a pang of sympathy for her.
Turning away from her, he walks through the portal.