Hello! I am very excited to be sharing this fic with you guys! Hopefully you all enjoy this first chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it.
A couple things I want to say right off the bat: this fic is set during BotW. It definitely follows canon for the most part, but with the obvious exception of a new plot being inserted into the game, I have made some pretty minor changes to a few canon details, either to impose some real-world logic onto video game logic or because I thought it worked better with my story. That being said, I'm not immune to making mistakes. If you spot something that seems off, feel free to point it out to me! I'd be happy to explain the choice that I made if it was intentional, and I'd be happy to fix any mistakes.
Also, this first chapter is basically a true story. This all happened to me at one point, and it's what inspired the fic. It's not really relevant, I just thought some people might like to know that.
This fic is rated T for some language, violence, occasional dark stuff, and dumb, bad humor. Don't say I didn't warn you. ;)
Chapter 1
The Dying Art of Reckless, Stupid Courage
The setting sun glared down on the badlands, casting a burning light against red stone. An eagle screamed from far up above.
This was awfully boring, Link reflected from where he was perched atop a crag of rock. Probably the worst area of the map yet. From his vantage point, he had a lovely view of the Deplian Badlands to his right, the Shrouded Forest right in front of him, and the Great Hyrule Forest to his left.
Over in the badlands he could still see that silver-maned lynel that he'd frantically galloped past, praying to the Goddess all the while. So he couldn't go that way, not unless he wanted to get eviscerated. Before escaping the lynel, he'd just come from the Shrouded Forest, and frankly, he had no desire to go back there. Killing a hinox in the dark and almost drowning in the swamp one time was enough excitement for him for the next few days, thank you very much. And he could go to the left, but there was that stupid moat thing around the forest, and he still hadn't figured out how to make his way through the Lost Woods. The Koroks still wouldn't tell him how, no matter how many times he namedropped Hestu. That left Death Mountain behind him as the final option, and the name didn't exactly inspire hope.
Link groaned. This place was so boring that it wasn't even labeled on the map. It just looked like scribbles of rocks. Which wasn't too far off of what the area actually looked like, if you added in some dead trees and monsters.
Link's stomach suddenly gave a great grumble, and he regained his focus. Back to the task at hand.
He pulled out the Sheikah Slate and studied the moblin encampment below him with the scope. It was perched on the very edge of a tall rock outcropping, much like Link himself was. There was only one moblin on the top level, sitting down and looking bored, although he knew there were likely to be at least two others on the lower level. This particular encampment was built in the same ramshackle style as any other around Hyrule but looked more rickety than usual. There were noticeable gaps in the boards lashed to the dead tree serving as its central pillar. The skull adorning the top of the tree was smaller and sadder than usual. Link snorted. These moblins would be easy pickings.
Hylia, but even the monsters in this place were depressing as hell. Why had he ever thought exploring the badlands would be fun?
Link gave a quick glance at the sky, estimating that he had about an hour before sundown, maybe an hour and a half. He bit his lip. He could do this. He needed their cooking pot, and then he would be out of there. The blood moon was tonight, and he wanted to be away from this dumb place before midnight for sure.
Link took a deep, calming breath. You can do this. You are the appointed knight of the princess of Hyrule, and you will be the Hero of Hyrule. Soon enough, anyway. Whenever you finally get around to stopping Calamity Ganon.
He cracked his knuckles, shook his arms out a little bit, and launched himself off the cliff.
The wind tore through his hair and his clothes. He had to wrench the part of himself screaming in exhilaration back into focus, reminding himself sternly that if the part of him that liked freefalling got his way, he would be very, very dead dozens of times over. He reached behind him with both hands to where he'd stuffed the paraglider between his scabbard and sword belt and snapped it out. His arms jerked almost painfully as his momentum was arrested.
Link angled himself toward the lazy moblin on the top level. It would be a piece of cake to silently drop behind it and sneakstrike it. He was ten feet away from the top platform –
Oh, shit. A second moblin was rounding the corner going up the staircase, and judging by its sudden halt and jerk of the head, there was no way it hadn't noticed him. It brought a horn up to its mouth and was about to blow.
Time seemed to slow. This was what Link was trained to do.
In one swift movement, he snapped the paraglider shut, pulled his bow from behind him, nocked an arrow, pulled back, aimed, let loose, watched the moblin fall back down the stairs with an arrow in its neck.
Link rolled as he hit the top level. He was immediately ready to let a second arrow fly at the other moblin, which was now scrambling to its feet and reaching for a claymore beside it. His aim wasn't nearly as good the second time; the arrow remained stuck in the moblin's shoulder.
Link reached behind him and grasped the handle of his guardian sword. He stared down the moblin for a split second, then whipped the sword out for dramatic effect, feeling a burst of fierce satisfaction as the blade formed in a blaze of blue light. He twirled it once, watching the light trails and a few sparks arc off the blade's path. He was much too fond of this sword. It was by far the most badass looking one he'd ever managed to scavenge.
The moblin was, unfortunately, unimpressed. It roared at him and brought the claymore behind its shoulder, ready to strike.
Link smirked and taunted, "You think you can hit me?" The blade whistled toward him, and he nimbly leaped back, letting the moblin stumble on the backswing before he darted in and cut across its side.
Link jumped back again as the moblin howled in pain. That was the best thing about this sword, he thought. The wounds it left were nice, clean, cauterized cuts that didn't spray blood all over his nice tunic. "Come at me," he shouted, feeling adrenaline flood his veins.
Suddenly he heard footsteps and angry grunting behind him. Damn, he'd almost forgotten about the moblins on the lower level. He whipped around to see two very angry moblins with very nasty looking dragonbone clubs almost on him.
Fuck. He was surrounded.
But it would be foolish to count him out now, not when he had the Champions at his back.
Link reached down deep inside himself and summoned pure, unyielding fury, a century of rage and destruction that was the Champion Urbosa's gift to him. He let it consume him like fire as he hefted his sword and readied his strike, let it burn through his veins until he could see Urbosa herself. She was barely there, nothing but an outline of golden light wreathed in flame, but her smirk was distinct.
Urbosa's voice was deep and commanding, but with an undeniable sense of humor. "You're all fools for having tested him," she told the moblins, before she snapped her fingers and vanished in a blaze of light.
In her place came streaks of lightning arcing from the sky, paralyzing the moblins. Link snatched up the claymore the lazy moblin had dropped. "You'll live to fight another day," he murmured to the guardian sword before stowing it away. The day his beloved shiny blue sword broke would be a sad day indeed.
While the moblins were still trapped by the electric current, shuddering in pain and fury, Link moved deftly between them, able to hack at the poor monsters with impunity. He had knocked the lazy moblin off the platform with one great swing of the claymore before the other two finally were able to lurch forward. And they looked pissed.
The moblin to the left hefted its dragonbone club in what looked like would be an absolutely brutal attack if it landed. Fury burning in its eyes, the moblin swung.
Link jumped.
He could see the path the club was taking in his mind's eye as if time itself had slowed down. He could feel the club grazing against the edge of his tunic as he twisted backward, executing a perfect backflip.
Link was about to smirk when he realized that his feet had not yet found the ground.
He was now upright, but falling past the platform at an alarming velocity, wind nearly tearing the claymore out of his hand. For a second, he couldn't think.
Then he at least had the presence of mind to sheath the claymore and snap out his paraglider, angling straight for the rock face. He almost collided with it until he put the glider away and got a firm grip on the stone. He clung there for a few moments, heart thundering in his ears, seething with embarrassment, anger, and sheer indignation.
"I can't believe this," he said out loud. Unbidden, a ridiculous image popped into his mind of the moblins laughing hysterically and traveling the land, regaling other monster encampments with the tale of the idiot the Goddess chose. Some Champion of Hyrule he was.
Grumbling, he reached his hand up for the next convenient handhold, when he heard the unmistakable electric crackling of a shock arrow being drawn.
In a panic, Link glanced over his left shoulder, only to see a bokoblin with a bow and shock arrow pointed straight at him. "Oh, fuck," he yelled. He cursed himself for not double checking whether there were lookout platforms. These happened to be placed about halfway down the cliff and invisible from the high vantage point behind the encampment that Link had had.
He desperately pushed himself off the rock face to leap out of the path of the arrow, but it was too late. He felt the arrow punch into his shoulder blade, agony tearing through his body as his muscles seized up. He was only half-conscious when he lost his grip on the cliff and rolled down it, thudding against sharp stones the whole way. Bones snapped, skin tore, and he just wanted the pain to end.
He hit the bottom of the cliff.
Darkness.
For one blissful second, everything was darkness and there was no pain.
Then Link was dragging a huge breath into his lungs, the world around him too bright. He cried out as his bones cracked and straightened and his scrapes scabbed over and then healed in the blink of an eye. But he was mercifully free of that goddess-cursed shock arrow, at least.
Mipha was the one tending to his wounds, hands outstretched, palms facing him. Her outline was wreathed in blue fire that almost looked like a halo. From the one memory he had of her from before the Calamity, he knew that her healing was usually gentle and gradual. But this felt like she was pumping as much healing energy into him as possible within the short time their connection granted her. This was healing magic made for the heat of battle.
"I am so embarrassed you had to see that," Link gasped out.
Mipha looked startled for a brief moment, then her expression settled into a gentle, if slightly sad, smile. "I will heal you no matter the circumstances," she assured him.
"I backflipped off a cliff, Mipha," he groaned, bringing a palm to his forehead partly to cover his embarrassment and partly to assuage his raging headache.
Mipha said with good humor, "Then you had best make sure you don't do it again, right?" Then she vanished, leaving nothing but a brief trace of blue fire.
As she disappeared, a final burst of Mipha's power left Link feeling good as new. Better, even. He jumped to his feet and took stock of his situation. It seemed the two bokoblins had assumed he was killed by the fall and lost interest, facing anywhere but where he was standing. Stupid monsters.
When the bokoblin nearest to him was facing away, Link silently jogged over to the cliff face, close enough to the platform that the bokoblin would only see him if it looked straight down. He gripped the rock face and hauled himself up as quietly as possible, aiming to climb onto the platform and sneakstrike the monster.
But when he heard the surprised grunt of the bokoblin and the subsequent blast on a horn, he was ready. He pushed off from the cliff, twisting in midair, barely managing to grab onto the platform's ladder with one hand. He winced as splinters dug into his fingers, but ignored the pain, climbing up the rest of the ladder before the bokoblin could even think to fire a shock arrow at him. He jumped up and barely registered the fear in the monster's eyes before he drew his claymore and slashed across its chest, sending the body flying and leaving a great bloody mess on the platform and on the spot where the bokoblin landed.
The other bokoblin screeched. Its platform was about fifty feet away, and Link quickly judged that the likelihood of him getting to it without getting pegged by another shock arrow was slim. He instead launched himself up the cliff, scrambling up a few natural handholds. He felt the static of a shock arrow nearly grazing the back of his tunic, and that gave him the boost he needed to drag himself over the edge.
Staring straight down at him were three very upset moblins.
Link yelped and rolled out of the way of a club smashing down onto the ground. Shaking, he jumped to his feet and pulled out his claymore. He tried to maneuver under one moblin's arms to place a well-aimed strike, but the other moblin's club caught him in the back before he could, sending him flying into the central pillar of the encampment.
The impact drove all breath out of his body, and he could see nothing but stars. All he could think was thank the Goddess Mipha didn't have to see that one.
Link scrambled to his feet, now pissed and a little nauseous. "I've had about enough of this garbage," he yelled at the moblins, who were lumbering menacingly toward him.
He turned tail and sprinted around the dead tree, praying frantically that he was far enough away to not get killed again. He dropped the claymore, pulled out his bow, and nocked a bomb arrow. He even felt a little bad for the moblins. They didn't seem to have any idea what was coming.
Link fired the arrow.
The moblins were caught up in the blast, bodies knocked out and sideways. He flinched back a bit, suddenly suspicious that some of his hair was singed by the fireball. Or maybe even that he had been burned. The heat against his face had been intense.
Despite the fact that exhaustion and pain was dogging his every step, causing his feet to drag, he somehow managed to give each of the three injured moblins final blows before they could get up again. He strayed too close to the edge of the cliff, and the final bokoblin screeched and blew its horn.
"Seriously?" Link threw the claymore to the ground. He had forgotten about the stupid monster. "All your friends are dead!" he shouted at it.
The bokoblin seemed to neither understand nor care.
Grumbling, Link readied his bow. His first show missed the small platform entirely. That was fine. He did have to pull back immediately to prevent getting hit by a shock arrow. His second shot missed by an even wider margin. Now, that was disappointing. His third arrow actually hit the platform, but was still a few feet away from hitting the intended target.
"Hylia help me and this stupid creature," Link said slowly, trying and failing to master his temper.
In the end, he pulled out the Sheikah Slate and dropped a metal crate on the monster with Magnesis. It was messier, but at least he would get a few rupees and roasted goodies out of it.
Link collapsed onto the ground, exhausted. He lost track of time as he let himself relax. He'd almost drifted into a pleasant deep sleep when he abruptly realized how cold it had gotten.
His eyes flew open. The sun had set hours ago. The blood moon was tonight.
Link scrambled to his feet, grabbing the claymore and jogging up to the very top of the encampment, where the moblins had left an unopened treasure chest. He fervently hoped that it was a nice weapon; the claymore was alright, but two-handed weapons were a bit too unwieldy for his tastes.
He knelt down before the chest and flipped the latch. Inside the chest, nestled on a cushion of red velvet, was a purple rupee.
Seriously? He had gone through all this trouble and nearly died for a measly fifty rupees?
Link's heart was not filled with generosity at the moment.
He scowled and kicked the chest over on its side after pocketing the rupee. It was time to get out of this miserable place. He whistled sharply, the sound carrying far in the night air. In the distance, he heard a whinny. He'd left his horse Princess far out of sight of the encampment. Princess was far too valuable to get caught in the crossfire.
The snow-white horse was easy to spot, even at night, and Link glided down to him when he came to a halt in front of the encampment. Princess was clearly nervous. He whickered and shifted around when Link climbed on him, and he tried his best to soothe him.
"Shh, it'll be okay," he murmured, glancing anxiously at the sky. The ominous red glow of the blood moon was starting to crest Death Mountain. Anyone would be nervous tonight.
He urged Princess into a full gallop, not looking back at the encampment. He was running out of time.
He had hoped to reach Woodland Stable by midnight, but judging by the ghastly bloody light that shone on everything, he had wasted too much time killing moblins. Shivering, he guided Princess to a rock face, so he could at least have his back against something.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. He had nothing to worry about, because he hadn't killed anything in the general vicinity.
If he was being honest with himself, that wasn't why he was scared.
The harsh red light of the moon intensified until even the shadows looked dark crimson. The trees across the road from him looked like they were bleeding. Link shuddered. The embers of malice rising up from the earth made him feel sick. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing sickly magenta swirls of malice and hearing shrieks and cries of monsters and machines.
It was now midnight. He could tell, could almost feel the Calamity's malevolent energy permeating the land and undoing his victories.
The blood moon rises once again.
It was the voice of Princess Zelda, sent to him from a great distance and full of desperation, echoing in his skull and drowning out all reason.
Please be careful, Link.
Her words had a century of feeling behind them. They carried a hundred years of pain and torment, an unspoken past between them that he couldn't quite remember.
She was trapped inside the Calamity and every month she risked everything to say something to him, even if it was the same unnecessary warning over and over again. Maybe that was all she could manage.
But either way, Zelda was risking everything to save Hyrule. The weight of emotion behind her words broke his heart. She believed in him, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why. He did not feel brave at all in this moment. He did not feel like someone who could save Hyrule.
The red light faded, leaving Link and Princess alone and shaken. His face was wet for some odd reason, and he swiped angrily at it with his sleeve, sniffling a bit.
Together, he and his horse set off for Woodland Stable.