The First Steps
The Legend of Zelda and all related media are property of Nintendo.
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A small part of Zelda couldn't help but admire Link's stoniness in the face of her father's fury. Even if he was most likely in the middle of losing his mind, it was impressive. As the guards started to close in, instead of complying or even resisting, he raised his left hand, a smirk on his lips.
And then the symbol of the Royal Family appeared on the back of his hand, glowing with divine light.
At that moment, Zelda felt a sharp, burning pain deep within her soul. What was it? Envy…No, she'd felt envy before; towards her ancestors that so easily wielded their shared birthright. Towards the men and women who were able to freely research ancient relics. This was different. This…This was rage.
That some insane…nobody could so easily summon what should have been her birthright! What she toiled and grieved for years for! And why? He just woke up one day and decided he was the Chosen Hero?!
Or maybe it was something worse. Her rage vanished, ice flowing through her veins. Maybe...maybe the gods had abandoned her. Perhaps they'd decided that she would never be able to access the Sealing Power and took it away to gift a more worthy vessel. Was that it, then? She'd worked herself to the bone for so long only to be tossed aside?
"Little bird?"
Zelda jolted, both at the pet name and the firm hand gripping her shoulder. She looked up to find Urbosa's concerned gaze (Impa just behind her, equally distressed). "Wh-What?" she said, wincing at the crack in her voice.
Urbosa, thankfully, just smiled and said, "Your father's…dealing with the current situation." Zelda blinked, shocked to see that Link was no longer standing there, mocking her with his existence. Instead, people were running in every direction, heeding her father's booming commands (she couldn't help but feel a touch of sympathy for those few individuals that faced his full fury). Urbosa gently turned her face back onto hers, "And one of his guards told us—that is, you and us Champions—to go to the throne room.
Zelda nodded—yes, her father would no doubt wish to…speak with her. She'd have hoped he'd have the clemency to do so in private, but clearly no one regarded her wishes anymore. If they ever had. "When?"
"He wants us to head there now, Princess" Impa said. "He…He might be awhile."
"Of course," Zelda stepped out of Urbosa's grip, turning on her heel, "Let's be on our way."
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Everyone was silent as they waited her father in the throne room. Which was great, because Zelda wasn't up for any conversation. Not that the others were in any mood to speak.
Mipha was by far most sullen (of the Champions. None of them could even dream of reaching the depths of Zelda's despair). Which made sense, she supposed. Her dear friend had been rather callous with her before causing all that chaos. Revali…he was irritated, of all things. She didn't know him all that well, but she had a feeling his sour mood wasn't because of the aversion to high walls common among the Rito.
Urbosa and Daruk were remarkably stone-faced (perhaps not-so-remarkably in the latter's case). But the former, at least, kept on shifting her gaze towards Zelda, her features softening. She appreciated the concern, but the sympathy just reminded her that she'd utterly failed to attain her birthright.
For once, Zelda was glad her mother was dead. She didn't want to think about how disappointed she would be.
The doors to the throne room burst open, and Zelda couldn't stop the flinch that overcame her as her father's stomps filtered into her ears. Zelda kept her head down, only to slowly peek up as, instead of sitting upon his throne, her father began pacing before them. Grumbling to himself
He stopped eventually, but instead of starting with her, he bellowed, "Impa!"
The Sheikah appeared in a puff of smoke, kneeling before him, "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"I've already sent word to your elders and historians, but I must ask, have you ever heard of anything like," his face creased into a heavy scowl, "…that?"
"No, Sir," she shook her head, "but I doubt I'd know as much as the elders."
"…No," the king sighed, "I suspect you wouldn't. Dismissed." Impa vanished back to her hiding spot. "And what of you?" he asked the Champions, "have any of you heard even whispers of such a thing?" One by one, all the Champions said that they hadn't. "Mipha," he singled out the Zora Princess, "I understand that you are…friends with Link?"
The young Zora nodded, but frowned, "We are, King Rhoam. But I've never…" she grew withdrawn, "…Today is the first I'm hearing of all this. He's never…spoken as such." The King of Hyrule hummed, turning away from her.
Then, finally, her father focused on Zelda. She braced herself for his rage. But he just stared at her, his gaze softening into something akin to sorrow. Pity. And somehow, that was worse. "Zelda, my daughter" his voice was soft, and that rankled her. Now, of all times, she didn't want any sort of understanding. She knew his frustrations. She understood them. She could navigate through them. This…she was left floundering in the dark. "I know that you're…fond of obscure lore. Do they speak of any such events?"
Zelda clenched her fists—the one time her father took an interest in her studies…Still, she knew her answer. "No, Father. The old tales repeatedly espouse that the Chosen Hero is blessed by the gods, but they've never hinted that they'd wield the Sealing Power."
"Did any of these tales speak of how the Chosen Hero identified themselves?"
"No. The legends don't delve into the origins of the Chosen Hero, merely their accomplishments."
"Well, if they're anything like Link…" he trailed off, before turning to address the Champions. "I ask you to return to your homes. As things are, we must assume that Link truly is the Chosen Hero, and therefore the Calamity's appearance is nigh. Prepare the Divine Beats. Prepare your people."
"Yes, Your Grace," the four Champions responded.
"Now, I must speak in private with my daughter." Ah, now Zelda understood. Her father would grant her a small mercy and berate her in private.
Only Urbosa hesitated before leaving them. When the Champions left, he once again focused on Zelda. But instead of rage, she was once more faced with sorrow. "Zelda," he said, "I ask again, are there truly no past examples of the Chosen Hero displaying the Sealing Power?"
Zelda grew confused (which was preferably to the squirming feeling his soft gazes gave her). And then, she understood. He wanted to know if a Chosen Hero ever had to pull double duty because one of their ancestors was like her. A failure. Her throat constricted, but she managed to say, "No, Father. And I doubt our family would have allowed records of…such things. Both publicly and even among themselves." There may have been obscure references kept by lost, rival civilizations. The Yiga would probably lionize such events—which she supposed was something to look into. But within Hyrule itself? Not likely.
"No," he lifted his head, a breathy chuckle bursting past his lips, "They wouldn't, would they? Always picking and choosing what to leave behind for later generations. Leaving it up to us to parse through what was left unwritten. Your mother always had far more patience for such things." He dropped eyes to the ground, looking more vulnerable than Zelda had ever seen him. "She'd be far better equipped to handle all…this."
Zelda was once more caught flat-footed. Of all the things she'd expected, her father so blatantly admitting a weakness was not one of them. Though she wholeheartedly agreed that things would be infinitely easier were her mother still alive.
Her father wallowed in grief for awhile, before setting his shoulders, casting his face into stone. "Though he is obviously mad, there's little doubt in my mind that Link is the Chosen Hero. That power…It's been years, but I recognize it. It truly is the divine power of our line." And there it was. Zelda was going to be dismissed. Her father's voice faded away as she imagined the rest of her life. Locked away until she was needed to continue the line. Or perhaps her father would show her another mercy, and wed another woman, hope for a better child. Regardless, she knew than she would be little more than a footnote. A cautionary tale for future royals.
"…You must chase after him."
What?
"F-Father?" Zelda stammered; eyes wide.
He began pacing once more, "I don't understand how Link could have possibly gotten his hands on the Sealing Power, but I know that it resides in you. Your mother knew it resides in you." The conviction in his voice was startling. But Zelda had to wonder; did he truly believe that? Or was he just clinging to her mother's belief's, even after all this time? "To say nothing of the fact that he cannot hope to face the Calamity without the aid of the Divine Beasts. No matter what powers he may possess, he can't be in four places at once." (At that moment, Zelda recalled ancient tales of Chosen Heroes with the ability to create functioning replicas of themselves—four of them, to be precise. She decided to keep that to herself).
"Find him," her father continued, "Bring him back here to develop a strategy and, perhaps, learn from him."
Zelda wasn't sure that was a viable option—Link had been fairly adamant that he didn't need anyone's assistance. But she would rather not be in the castle and catch everyone's amplified pitying or deriding stares and whispers.
Thus, she bowed, "I shall leave at once, Father."
He nodded, "He was last seen on horseback, galloping to the north. I suspect he means to search the Lost Woods for the Sword that Seals the Darkness—that is one of its likely resting places." Zelda nodded—an ancient grove was repeatedly mentioned with relation to the Sword that Seals the Darkness. The Lost Woods was one of the few places her family hadn't searched in the last few decades. Her father extended his hand, "Go with the…" he trailed off lamely. Indeed, Zelda seriously doubted the gods were at her side. Had since she was a child, really. Nevertheless, she thanked her father, and turned on her heel, exiting the throne room.
Impa appeared at her side the second she passed the threshold. "Princess?" she said, "Are you—"
Zelda cut her off. "Impa, I've always counted you as a friend, but please, don't." Impa sucked in a breath but did as asked.
The chaos surrounding the eastern barracks hadn't spread to the rest of the castle. But the air was thick with tension, people hurrying about to perform their duties. Good. Zelda hoped to leave before the gossip chain started up again.
"Zelda!"
Zelda stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before turning towards the voice. She plastered a smile on her face as Mipha approached. "Mipha," she said, "What is it?"
The Zora clasped her hands together, looking down at her feet. She seemed to find what she wanted, because she looked up at Zelda with a determined frown, "Has your father spoken of what he plans to do with Link?"
Zelda paused, before honestly answering, "My father wishes for Link to be brought back here to further discuss his…status. He's asked me to do so."
Mipha nodded, "Then I ask that I accompany you in bringing Link here." At Zelda's frown, she quieted, "Link…I'm afraid for him. I've spoken with a few of his fellows who were there since the beginning. They say he woke up with a start—almost as if he had a nightmare." She shook her head, "I fear that this Chosen Hero business may have caused him a great deal of mental anguish."
Zelda hummed; it certainly caused her a fair bit of anguish! She immediately berated herself—that wasn't fair. Link had, by all accounts, truly gone mad with the revelation of his divine task. She may be useless, but at least she still had all her mental faculties.
She took a deep breath, saying, "While I would welcome your assistance, what of Zora's Domain?"
Mipha hummed, "If Link truly is the Chosen Hero, assisting him is an equal task to shoring up my home's defenses." She blushed, "And, well, I've already drafted a letter to my father informing him of the situation and my intentions."
Zelda and Impa exchanged looks—Mipha really wanted to help. She would probably go look for him on her own if they turned her away. The two nodded at each other, and Zelda turned back to Mipha, saying, "I see no reason to turn you down."
"Princess Mipha," Impa bowed her head, "if you would accompany Princess Zelda back to her quarters, I can see about getting us horses and supplies for our, hopefully short, trip." The young Sheikah blinked, looking up at the Zora, "Er…can Zora ride horses?"
Mipha giggled, "We can. As a rule, my people aren't fond of doing so—hence why so few Zora venture too far away from a water source—but I've learned how to ride a horse." She tilted her head, "Just ensure that it's a sturdy animal—I'm heavier than I look."
"Of course," Impa nodded. She nodded at Zelda, before vanishing in a puff of smoke.
Zelda—long used to the Sheikah's preferred method of travel—simply waved the smoke away. Mipha, however, was left coughing. "Oh my—I don't know how you all can stand that!"
"You get used to it," Zelda replied. She gave Mipha a moment to regain her bearings, before leading her to her room. As they were travelling, Zelda couldn't help but ask, "Is there anything else about…Link that you can remember? That might help us sift through this chaos?"
Mipha sighed, shaking her head, "No, Zelda. He's just acting so different from how I know him. I have no idea what he's thinking. Though," her voice gained a steely edge, "regardless of all else, I can assure you that Link's only thinking of how to bring peace to Hyrule."
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"Man," Ori said with a breathy chuckle, "watching your body relieve itself is weird."
"Imagine how it feels to watch a body that isn't your own relieve itself," Time added.
"Actually doing it has you all beat," Link countered, climbing atop Ori's horse and setting it to a steady canter.
"Fair," Ori replied, "And thanks for not…you know, saying anything."
"About what?" He felt embarrassment filter through their shared soul. Ah, right. Ori may have the body of a man (or as close to it as possible), but he was still very much a child in some respects. He chuckled, "You've got nothing to worry about on that front, Ori." More embarrassment flooded their conjoined souls, and Link was positive he started to blush as a consequence.
"Trust us," Wind teased, "you're going to make your future wife very happy."
"Or husband," Time added.
"Or neither," Link shrugged. "I can confidently say that the life of a bachelor can be a fulfilling one."
Ori grunted, "Didn't you say you have a lover? Some redhead?"
Link's heart warmed at the thought of Marin. Aloud he said, "That's…a complicated story."
"I think you meant to say, 'super fucking weird'," Wind replied.
"That is also true."
"A wife…" Ori trailed off. Link and his fellows grew silent. "I've thought about it, I'll admit."
"Oh?" Link smirked, "Thought about anyone in particular?" Link felt his face flush once more. "Maybe that Zora girl that was so concerned about you?"
Instead of setting off another bout of adolescent awkwardness, Ori's mood dropped. "Mipha," he whispered, "Gods…she must be worried out of her mind." A heat crept into their souls—and Ori's disgruntled hum told Link he was glaring. "What you said to her certainly didn't help!"
"Well I wasn't wrong," Link grumbled, "Someday, far off in the future, you're going to look back at all this and laugh." His lips split into a wide grin, "Probably when you're recounting this tale to your children." Link laughed when that finally got his intended reaction.
Time got in on the fun, "Just be sure to pick through your stories with a fine-tooth comb. Ended up giving my own children their fair share of nightmares because I was too detailed with my retellings. My wife ended up forbidding me from doing so."
"My wife actually wanted me to be completely honest with our children. Toughen them up, you know?" Wind spoke up. "But I never had the heart. I mean, sure, we were pirates—well, we used to be—"
"Come again?" Ori blurted out.
Wind ignored him, "But I didn't want to drag our kids down with all that shit. They'd have their own problems in the future."
"It's a hard balance," Time commiserated.
"Can we hop back to the whole pirate thing?"
"Never had kids—which was great, because I never wanted to deal with them," Link threw his hat into the ring—which reminded him, he needed to find a good hat.
"You're just going to ignore me whenever you want, aren't you?"
"Probably," Link said in tandem with Time and Wind.
"It's amusing to see you bluster about." Time snickered.
The three voices in his head devolved into an argument, leaving Link free to observe his surroundings. The current Hyrule was fairly large, yet empty. He turned around on the saddle—aside from the town directly south of Hyrule castle (both of which were steadily shrinking in the distance) it was mostly empty grasslands and rolling hills. Fairly peaceful, really.
He narrowed his eyes, his mind winding down a darker path. What were the goddesses thinking? Time had a low opinion of Din due to that mess with Ganon and the Twilight Realm, but this was different. It had to be. They wouldn't stick him, Time, and Wind in Ori's body because of one errant comment. Or for a lark.
Of course, there was also the question of how Hylia was reacting to all this. It couldn't have been a very calm reaction. Link wasn't too fond of her, but he knew that, at the end of the day, she wanted to keep the world safe. And, regrettable as it was, she'd managed to trap herself, whatever form that Demise's curse took, and their own eternally reincarnating soul in an endless cycle that guaranteed such a thing. A cycle that had just been royally screwed. Maybe she would force herself to appear on the mortal plane and drag the three of them back to the afterlife.
Well, they could worry about all of that after finding the Master Sword.
"Hm? Hey, what's that? To the left?" Ori said after a bit of silence
"What?" Link turned, grunting at a wagon in the distance. "A wagon. It's stopped, might be—wait, how'd you see that?"
"I…I just did?"
"Sure, but I had to turn to see it."
Time hummed, "It might have been in your periphery, but you didn't pay it any mind."
"But I saw the wagon in full," Ori replied. "Like I…turned my head? Wait, that doesn't make sense."
"Hold on a second," Wind spoke up. Second later, he clicked his tongue, "Was able to turn maybe ninety degrees in either direction before everything went dark."
"Full field of vision," Time remarked.
"But I'd have to move my eyes in order to get that full field of vision, right? So, what, you guys can just view things through the full theoretical cone of vision? That's weird."
He could feel Time staring at him. "…You're inhabiting your reincarnation's body, have your soul conjoined with said reincarnation and two previous incarnations, and this is where you draw the line?"
"…Yes."
"Hey!" Ori shouted, "Remember the lonesome wagon off in the distance?"
"You want to check it out?" Link asked.
"Of course," Ori replied. "Someone might need help."
"Or it's free loot," Wind chimed in. A cold feeling swept through their souls—disapproval, Link surmised. Wind huffed, "Hey, stuff is stuff."
"He was a pirate," Link shrugged, leading the horse to the wagon.
"Again, can you elaborate on that?" Ori pleaded.
"Nah," Wind snickered.
"Ass."
Link smirked but kept silent as he drew closer. He frowned, however, when he started to smell blood. Monster blood, to be specific. He slowed the horse, drawing his bow. He scanned his surroundings, noting the half-a-dozen…well, he didn't know what kind of monsters they were.
"Bokoblins," Ori supplied with a dismissive grunt.
"Ugh," Wind shuddered (a strange sensation that made Link's stomach twist), "they certainly got uglier since I was alive."
"If any were left, we would have been attacked by now," Time said.
Link had to agree. He lowered his bow, calling out at the wagon, "Hello?" He could just barely hear shuffling from within the wagon. He moved closer, "I'm here to help." His statement was met with a bow and drawn arrow poking out of the wagon's partition. "…I'm serious."
A face popped out above the bow. It was a fairly old Hylian, with a graying black beard and a balding head. He gave Link a once over, before nodding, pulling his bow back, "You're a knight, aren't you?"
"Yes," technically, at any rate.
"Oh, thank Hylia," the man slumped in relief. He stepped down from the wagon as Link approached, "Name's Holton. Got attacked by that horde of Bokoblins on my way to Castle Town." He kicked one of the monster corpses, "Managed to fend them off, but my horse got loose in the chaos."
Link hummed, "Which way did it go?"
"West." He stroked his beard, "I can fix up the wagon, but would you mind going and bringing her back? I don't want to leave my merchandise alone for however long it could take to find her."
Link turned his gaze westward. "What do you think, guys?"
"Let's," Ori was the first to reply.
"It'll be easy to find in these plains," Wind added.
"We should probably figure out what she looks like," Time said.
Link nodded, directing his horse west. "Tell me about your horse."
"Her names' Nina—a light brown palomino. Her mane's done up in a simple braid, and she should still have her gear on her." He grimaced, "Hope she didn't push herself too hard—the old girl only has a few years left in her."
"W—I," Link hastily corrected himself, "will find her. Just sit tight." He spurred his horse forward, scanning the horizon.
Ori hummed, "You know, it's been awhile since I've done this."
"You'll have to be a tad more specific," Time replied.
"Just…ride." A melancholy spread through their conjoined souls, "Since I was a boy, my father raised me to be a knight. When I got old enough, he'd put me through countless drills and lessons. Pushing me to be my best." Ori sighed, "Pushed a lot of things to the side in order to achieve that."
Wind hummed, "Did you even want to become a knight?"
Ori's reply was swift. And indignant. "Of course I did! And I knew what I was getting into!" His anger faded, a sort of calm taking its place, "At least…I'd always thought I did…I was born to be the Chosen Hero, right?"
"Yes," Time replied.
"And, we all share the same soul, no?"
"Yeah," Link nodded, having an idea where Ori was heading.
"So," Ori's voice shrank to a whisper, "were any of the choices I made my own? Were my father's? Am I just…acting out some part in a play directed by the gods? Who am I, even? Who are you guys? Are we even our own people, when Hylia has a direct hand in our creation?"
"Oh boy," Time groaned.
"Those are some tough fucking questions, Ori," Wind said with a weak chuckle.
"Questions you're not supposed to worry about until after you die," Link replied.
"Well, that's not really an option, is it?" Ori spat.
"No," Time hummed, "and for that we are sorry. This has become much more complicated than it has to be."
"But we are our own people," Link replied. "You may not see it now, but even though we're all remarkably similar, there are key differences between us and the mold we're cast from."
"Like what?"
Link was about to answer that the biggest indicator was their love lives but stopped himself. Because to say that would mean that they'd have to explain that their original, inherited soul was once lovers with Hylia, who shed her immortal form (for a time) in order to be with him in another life so she could manipulate him into killing an ancient demon. And then that same ancient demon cursed them both with his dying breath, a lingering shade of his hatred forever haunting the two. And Hylia might have taken advantage of that to (in theory) forever entwine herself and her lover for all of time. A trend that Link himself, Time, and a few other incarnations had bucked over the eons.
But explaining all that would…muddle things.
Wind, thankfully, picked up the slack. "Hobbies," he said.
"…Hobbies?" Ori flatly repeated.
"Sure." Wind, if were able, no doubt would have clasped his hands behind his head, "Want to know that we're not all the same person? Look at what we do for fun. I'm a cartographer."
"I enjoy fishing," Time chimed in.
"I like to dig for buried treasure," Link added.
Ori grew silent. For so long that Link grew worried. But then he said, "I like to shield-surf.
Link blinked, "Shield what?"
"Shield-surf," Ori repeated. "You guys don't know what that is?" The trio replied 'no'. "Well, it's where you find a steep enough incline, weave one foot through your shield's strap, and ride it downhill."
"…You're serious?" Time asked.
"Yeah!" Ori replied. "It's super fun! The wind whipping through your hair, weaving through rocks and other obstacles, jumping off impromptu ramps and soaring through the air—you can even set-up targets and fire arrows on the ride down!"
"Well there you go!" Wind cheered. "That's what makes you different—you're suicidal!" Link and Time laughed alongside him, Ori heartily joining them. Link sighed as a warmth spread through their combined souls—one crisis averted.
"Well," Ori paused to catch his breath, "I wouldn't strictly call it sui—oh, shit."
Link sat straighter, eyes narrowing, "What?"
"On your left, down the hill."
"What is—woah," Time breathed.
"The fuck is that?!" Wind exclaimed.
Link turned, shoulders slumping as he spied a familiar, maned centauroid. "…That's a Lynel, isn't it?"
"Yup," Ori replied.
"That's what Lynels look like?!" Wind shouted.
"Yup."
"Shit…I mean, I've heard about them, but actually seeing one…yeesh."
"Yeah, they're not fun," Link deadpanned.
"But what's it doing here?" Ori asked, "This is way too close to the castle."
"The forces of darkness are on the rise," Time intoned. "Until the coming crisis ends, they shall only grow bolder."
"Question," Wind said, "Do these things eat horses? Because that one's eating a horse." Link leaned forward, grimacing at the sight of the monster tearing apart bloody bits of a horse's flesh and swallowing them in one gulp. Wind huffed "How much do you wanna bet that's the horse we're looking for?"
"Sucker's bet."
"Pussy."
"It hasn't noticed us," Time cut in. "We can head back to the merchant and get him out of here."
"No," Ori declared. "There's always the chance the Lynel will catch our scent and follow us back. Or attack someone else. We need to get rid of it, now."
"Any suggestions?" Wind drawled.
Link grinned, sliding off the horse and pulling out his bow, "I was thinking I'd hit it 'till it died."
"And just where are you going to hit it?" Ori asked.
Link stopped, "Uh…anywhere I can."
"If it falls on its knees—which it usually does after receiving a hard-enough blow to the face—you can climb on its back and stab it where it's chest connects with its legs. That does a lot of damage—think a nerve cluster or delicate organ is right under the skin."
"Noted."
"Go for the balls!" Wind hollered.
"Monsters don't have balls," Time countered.
"Everything's got balls!"
"Gorons don't have balls."
"Gorons are balls."
"…You're not wrong."
"Can we focus, guys?" Ori said, on the border of exasperated and aggravated.
"Ah, leave 'em be," Link whispered, inching closer and closer to the feasting Lynel, "Not like they can do much else anyway." And they really weren't all that distracting—in fact, the two previous Heroes, as opposed to Ori, who was directly conversing with him, were slowly fading out. That would be something to test later.
"Wait!" Ori said, bringing Link to halt. "With the wind as it is, you're just outside the Lynel's notice. Get your bow ready, and crouch low in the grass." Link nodded, willing to let Ori call the shots. It was his body, after all.
Just then, the wind shifted, and the Lynel stopped gorging itself, whirling around and sniffing the air. Blood dripped from its maw, it's dark, beady eyes darting about as it searched for Link.
"Steady," Ori whispered. Link let out a short breath, suppressing the excited shivers running up-and-down his spine. How long had it been since he'd been in actual danger? Felt adrenaline flood his body? Too long. He actually missed it. It should have felt wrong. But then, he was born to fight.
The Lynel had drawn its weapon—a long, sharp spear caked with dried blood. A growl rumbled out its throat like a rockslide, its breath, smelling of raw meat and bile, assaulting Link's nose. A lesser man would have gagged, he just drew his arrow back a bit further.
"Steady," Ori whispered once more, the Lynel scant feet away. Then, it stilled, before darting its head down at Link, eyes filled with hate.
"Now!" Ori shouted as the Lynel reared back and roared. Link let his arrow fly, already drawing his sword and running for the monster as the arrow sank into the monster's nose, making it yelp as it buckled to the ground, pawing at its face. Link ducked under its thick arms, vaulting onto its back and stabbing where Ori directed him to. The monster roared, bucking wildly in an attempt to force Link off, but he held firm, stabbing at its weak spot until it shoved past its initial panic and tried to grab him.
Link slashed once at its head before leaping off of it, pulling out his shield as the Lynel roared, hoofs stamping the ground as it glared at him.
"And now the fun begins," Ori said, determination and excitement mixing within their souls.
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A/N: Lynels were a fun addition to BOTW. Where the other enemies get boring after a while, I never fail to get hyped when I run across a Lynel. Maybe it's because of the loot…Anyway, be sure to leave a review. Later.