The encroaching twilight cast a strange serenity upon the golden field, one the young hero of legend couldn't trust. Nighttime meant vengeful Stal-creatures and dive bombing Keese. Crouched in the high, whispering grass, Link kept a stoic eye on the foreboding fortress that poked the horizon, squinting at the magenta swirls of malice that coiled 'round its crumbled exterior like wispy snakes, slowly strangling the life out of their prey. Yet splendor and might once pumped through this heart of Hyrule, or so everyone informed him. But that was before the Great Calamity struck a century ago...
Link's ears twitched.
The breeze hissed malice, a sinister eye prickling his skin. Guardian. His instincts, sharpened from ceaseless beatings and fleeing from these spidery bastards, kicked into overdrive. Phrenic bow loaded, he scanned the placid-seeming field for the bell-shaped metal beast. An unwelcome patrol combed through a nearby patch of trees. Tiny tremors quivered through the earth as it prowled closer, yet still blissfully oblivious to his presence. Adrenaline pulsed through him. Bowstring pulled taut, he swallowed the acrid taste in his mouth and let it fly.
Arrow met cyan eye with a melodious metal zing. Head gyrating, the phased Guardian resumed its patrol, taking no heed to the quivering Hylian in the grass as it stalked off. A sigh escaped him. That wasn't so hellish. Already dreaming of a cozy, warm stable bed, Link gingerly crawled away from the scene, ripples of relief flowing through him as sanctuary from this dreadful nightfall grew more and more tangible by the second —
— that is, until he rose too swiftly to his feet, exposing his slender frame for all ancient abominations to see.
The Guardian flared a sickly magenta, its scarlet laser locking onto his back as it charged up a shot that would turn him to a pile of charred flesh.
Link launched a hasty arrow, hoping to silence the incessant beeping — but it nicked the impenetrable belly — and he scrambled for cover right before the beam sliced him to ribbons.
"It is my pleasure," a silvery voice soothed, pulling him out of the white abyss. Mipha. Renewed vigor flushed through him. Reloading his bow, he aimed for the Guardian's beam-spitting eye, funneling all his focus into the shot — it pierced true, and he made a valorous lunge for its legs, slashing them with every shred of strength in his body. Two spidery limbs shattered off, but the vessel of malice scuttled out of blade's reach, spewing a second beam at Link.
He crumpled to the dirt.
That sweet, white void of unfeeling washed over his body, luring him towards perpetual serenity…
...but his numbing fingers fumbled through his pouch, pulling out his final hearty elixir, bringing it to his insensate lips. He gulped it down, the tingling rush of sensation shuddering back through his body. Blinking scarlet splotches out of his eyes, he sprung back on his feet. With trembling hands, he notched another arrow in his bow and trained it on the Guardian's pulsating optic. The mechanical menace beeped in a rapidly shrinking countdown, one that promised his obliteration if he didn't unleash the feathered missile of salvation — it zipped through the smoke-stained air, and, by Hylia's holy grace, struck that blasted eye.
Link bolted for the fazed beast. Sword unsheathed, he sliced legs from body, dooming it with immobility, smiting it with graceful sweeps of his blade. His stamina drained to a dangerous low, but he pressed forward, determined to quell that horrid countdown that had revived with a vengeance.
A final stroke shattered his sword.
The Guardian breathed its last creaking breath.
A bright burst of blue light stung Link's crimson-tinged vision. Scattered before him, the ancient innards of the Guardian glinted in the whipping grass. I...killed it? Pulse thundering in his pointed ears, he filled his pouch with these spoils, spoils he'd never laid eyes on 'til this tremulous moment.
Intoxicating elation surged through his veins and hammering heart. Giddiness swirled in his skull. Never in Farore's name had he dreamt he could vanquish so fearsome a foe, yet here he stood, in the twilight meadow, clutching a golden Ancient Core in his quivery palm, enthralled by its molten glow. By some fluke of fortune, he had triumphed over the puppet of malice. His sapphire gaze peered at the becursed castle pressed 'neath the dusky sky, the venomous, serpentine tendrils that entangled the crumbling structure. Sprouts of hope bloomed in the cracks of his resolve, feeding on his blessed victory here. There was a chance, a beaming scintilla of a chance, that he, the Hero reawakened, could defeat the Calamity that poisoned the land of the Goddesses, recover its princess, and return it to peace. In precious time, this gleaming incarnation of the future was now a tangible prospect. But for the present, he could only bask in this microcosm of a win and relish in the relieving wonder that life still breathed through his woozy body.
Glee quirking the corners of his mouth into an unshakable grin, he slipped the Ancient Core into his pack and set off for the nearest stable.