Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda series is the intellectual property of Nintendo Co. Ltd. This project is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way officially connected with Nintendo Co. Ltd., or any of its subsidiaries.
Release Schedule: I'm releasing new chapters twice a week on Sundays and Thursdays! I might occasionally sneak in a bonus third chapter, just for fun. This story has been fully drafted and is the length of a standard Young Adult fantasy novel. Enjoy!
Timeline: Chapter 1 is set in Breath of the Wild, but the rest of the story occurs mid-game Tears of the Kingdom with no end-game spoilers until the epilogue.
Chapter 1
Four years ago
On starry nights when the glow of the moon filled Karusa Valley, Rat came alive.
A slim figure in a white mask raced down the canyon. Rat's sandals skimmed the rock, and he ran like his master chased him. But no one was chasing him, not tonight. Tonight, he was free.
Thin veils of sand slithered over the canyon rim, dissolving in the midnight wind. Talismans swung overhead, strung on lines between the red walls, clacking like teeth chattering in the cold. Guardian frog statues perched on the walls, blindfolded by the mark of the Yiga Clan. Rat felt their desecrated eyes burning silently into his back, watching, but never speaking. These nights were their secret.
The boy pivoted and ducked under a stream of sand, twisting into a tight crevice in the wall. Back pressed against the rough sandstone, he shimmied sideways, holding his breath as the walls pinched him, like a last test of his resolve. He wiggled and shuffled, then the walls released him and he stumbled into a grotto.
Scoured by wind and time, the grooved sandstone walls wrapped around in a near-perfect circle. A hot spring bubbled gently in the bottom of the canyon several feet below his perch. Tufts of desert grasses sprouted at the edge of the water and clusters of violets and mushrooms dotted the round walls.
He exhaled. Alone, at last. The spring bubbled, releasing warm mist into the cool air. Rat pulled off his red hood. He picked at the strings binding his Yiga mask to his face, but the knots stuck. Rat impatiently yanked out his pocketknife and cut the ties. As he lifted the mask free, he drew a deep breath. His fine, black hair loosened and fell to his bony shoulders. He dropped the mask to the rock and grinned up at the stars.
"I'm back!" He flung his thin arms out and turned a circle. The stars reflected in his dark eyes and the moon smiled down at the skinny boy as he removed his sandals and peeled off his red shirt. His light brown skin blended with the night, like he was one with the shadows.
Barefoot, Rat stepped to the edge, curling his toes over the rim. He braced himself and somersaulted with a splash into the spring. Eyes closed, he sank in a froth of bubbles. They tickled his arms like his mother's touch when he was very young, when she used to dance her fingernails across his belly. Before she left on a mission one day and never returned.
Rat popped up to the surface. He floated on his back, massaging the tips of his pointed ears, sore from his tight hood. A scrape on his elbow tingled in the warm water, healing. A bruise throbbed on his cheek from Master Kohga's fist.
He didn't say how he wanted his bananas, Rat thought. Fried, steamed, sliced, frozen, on rice—you have to tell me. He clenched his fists, but as the pain released in the healing water, he slowly relaxed.
If only peace could last. As he floated, suspended by the water, gazing up at the stars, fear twinged in his belly. He tilted his head, lifting his ear from the water, listening for the sound of footsteps in the crevice above. Had anyone noticed the boy-shaped bundle in his bed? Would the Yiga take this from him, too?
A shadow skittered through the grass.
He rotated upright in the water and swam to the edge of the pool. Slowly, making as little sound as possible, he pulled himself from the water and laid flat on his stomach. Goosebumps rose on his wet back, but he stared into the grass where the shadow had fled, and waited.
The grass rustled. A lizard slipped into the light and froze, head cocked, listening.
Like me. Rat held his breath.
The lizard ran to the edge of the pool, claws scratching the stone. It listened again. Then its tongue darted out and lapped the water.
Slowly, like he was one with the stone, the boy lifted one elbow, the other. He crawled forward. Your name will be Luna because I caught you under the moon. You'll live in my pocket. I'll feed you crickets and bananas. You will be my first friend.
He was so close, he could count the stripes on the lizard's back, watch its ribcage expand with each quick breath.
"You dropped something."
Rat flinched. With a flick of its tail, the lizard darted through a tiny crack in the wall. High-pitched laughter echoed around the walls. Rat jumped to his feet.
A Yiga Blademaster squatted on the perch above him. He was shorter and thinner than the other officers, but his wiry frame was iron-strong. In his hand, he held the boy's mask. "So this is where a rat runs off to."
The boy clenched his core. He twisted his right fingers into the Yiga symbol for 'vanish' and struck his left palm. His frame flickered, but remained solid. The warrior laughed.
Rat gritted his teeth. "Give it back, Karta."
The warrior swung the mask like bait. "The rat can swim, but can it climb?"
Rat sprinted around the spring. He leaped up the wall and scrambled up the rough stone. Gripping the rim of the ledge, he pulled himself up and hooked his heel on the edge.
Karta's heel slammed into his shoulder and thrust him backward. Rat fell like a stone. His back smacked the water, stinging as he sank. With a powerful kick, he broke the surface and flicked his wet hair out of his eyes.
"Don't rush your enemies head-on." Karta's white mask peered down from the ledge. "Try to surprise me."
"Shut up."
"And a dummy in your bed? Please be more creative."
"How can I learn to be creative when no one will teach me?"
"I could teach you. Many things."
A shiver crawled up Rat's spine.
He remembered clinging to the doorpost of the training hall one evening, watching Karta slice a head off a dummy with just the wind from his blade. His mother's hand gripped his shoulder, and she steered him suddenly down the corridor. You stay away from that man.
Karta swung Rat's mask by its broken strings. "You can't hide in the kitchen forever, Little Rat. I've been watching you. You stole the vanish scroll—slipped it right from Kohga's belt while he was punching you in the face." He tilted his head, studying the boy. "Eight years old."
Blood pounded in Rat's ears. "I'm almost nine."
"Luck is on your side tonight. Master has other battles to fight." He loosened the long blade on his back. "He's here."
"Who's here?"
"Who else?" Karta threw the mask at Rat. "Get dressed and come back to the hideout. He's already taken out seven: Laster, Dex. Josi. Master summoned everyone to arms. Even you. Don't let him down."
"Were they… killed?"
Karta nodded. He slammed his fist into his palm and vanished in a puff of smoke.
Treading water, Rat waited until the last of the smoke cleared from the perch. Anger clenched inside him. Not Josi. She brought him a honeyed apple for the new year.
Snatching his mask, he scrambled from the water and climbed the wall. His uniform stuck to his skin as he pulled it over his wet chest. No time to fix the mask. Maybe he could find a new one in the storage room. But if the swordsman Link was here—his stomach clenched in fear—they would lock everything down.
He edged through the crevice and ran up the canyon. As he climbed the rim, he cringed, unsure what carnage to expect, but the hideout door was intact. Past the door, the round inner chamber was flawless, just as it had been an hour ago. Like the swordsman had slipped through their defenses with the precise grace of a Sheikah. Rat felt violated. And fascinated.
He climbed the stairs, wound through the tunnels, and skidded to a stop in the main inner room. Here, the scent of blood stained the air, metallic. A thirsty smell. A moan sounded behind a large crate. Heart pounding, Rat peeked around the edge.
A broad-shouldered blademaster lay curled in a fetal position, mask cracked, clutching his stomach. His hands were wet and his long, doubled-handed sword was missing. His face turned up. "Rat, get me" He coughed and sagged into the floor. And lay still.
Rat stumbled backwards. Across the room, another moan sounded. But Rat remained where he stood. A new feeling spread through his chest, warm. A whisper stirred inside him, like something long hidden, coming to life.
An explosion sounded through the walls. He leaped over another fallen warrior, then spun back and snatched up their short sword. It was heavy in his small hands; the tip smeared crimson with the swordsman's blood. Rat followed the rumble of another explosion. The fight was outside in the pit arena. Would the swordsman kill a child?
Rat ducked through a hidden door and scrambled up a ladder. Crouching, he ran down a narrow stone tunnel carved behind the windows above the pit. Two Yiga soldiers crouched behind the first window, watching the battle below. They glanced at him as he slipped past, but said nothing. He smelled their sweat.
At the second window, Rat dropped to his knees and scooted to the rim. His heart hammered as he peered into the area below.
"Aieeee!" Master Kohga swung his giant spiked ball on a chain around his head. Rat called it the House Crusher: large enough to smash a cottage, with spikes the length of his arm. It whistled through the air and Master Kohga hurled the ball toward a slim figure in blue tights.
Rat gasped.
The figure's arm shot out. Blue light collided with the Crusher and stopped the ball in its path. It hung suspended in mid-air, and Rat could just make out a square slate in the swordsman's hand. He thrust with the slate and the Crusher flew back into Kohga's face.
The force hurled Kohga to the earth. He skidded on his back and lay, stunned, at the edge of the chasm. A golden helmet hung from his belt, winking with green emeralds.
Steel rang as Link drew a royal broadsword. He sprinted in—this masked figure in a Sheikah uniform, so lean he could almost be a girl, with hair the color of sunlight. He raised his sword over the fallen master. Karta flung a pointed star and Link struck the tiny blade away almost before it left the master's fingers. He plunged his sword into Kohga's chest. Kohga jerked and released a whimper.
The swordsman said nothing. He drew his sword cleanly from the wound and tugged the golden helmet, snapping it from Kohga's belt.
Gasping, Kohga rolled onto his side. He staggered to his feet. Tottering at the rim of the chasm, he spat words which were snatched away by the wind. Then his knees buckled, and he fell. A scream echoed up from the pit, growing fainter, until the earth swallowed his cry.
Rat clung to the window rim, knuckles white.
Link walked to the edge of the chasm and peered down. Satisfied, he glanced around the walls of the arena. His gaze swept over the windows and Rat ducked out of sight. He pressed against the wall, hardly breathing, clutching the hilt of his eightfold sword. But if the swordsman wielded magic that could stop the Crusher in midair, surely he could see through walls. He knew exactly where Rat was. Yet, something pulled Rat back to the rim of the window. Once again, he peeked over the edge.
The swordsman was sitting cross-legged on the battlefield. Eating an apple.
Rat stared.
Link remained sitting, spine straight, methodically biting into the fruit. Chewing. Swallowing. His back was to Rat's window, his face hidden from view. Rat pulled himself a little higher. The swordsman finished his apple and stood. He tossed the core into the chasm, turned from the black hole, rolled his shoulders, and wiped his forehead with the end of his white scarf.
He lifted his face.
Across the arena, their eyes met.
He was so young—maybe eighteen—with intense blue eyes lit with the fire of conviction. Like he could see into Rat's soul.
I'm dead. Rat knew it as surely as he knew to be killed by this hero would be just and right.
But the hero turned away. He detached the slate from his hip and touched the flat surface. His body dissolved into blue light and he was gone.
The arena buzzed with silence. A smear of Kohga's blood glistened on the rock at the chasm's edge. Rat leaped to his feet and punched his fist in the air. His shout shattered the silence: a cry of victory. Of freedom. He snapped his jaw shut and reeled in the joy bubbling in his chest. He crouched behind the window, heart fluttering as footsteps whispered down the stone tunnel. Soldiers filed past him—if they had heard his cry, they ignored him. The remnants of the Yiga clan trickled out of hiding into the arena, wandering and lost, like ants deprived of their queen. They clustered around the rim of the chasm and called down into the pit.
"Master Kohga! Master Kohga!"
Behind his window, Rat curled into himself. A smile crawled across his lips. "Link," he whispered, testing the sound of the name spoken with honor.
He gripped the edge of the window, swung himself down, and landed in the arena, touching down in a crouch. Rat dropped his mask and crushed it under his foot as he walked forward.
Elbowing between the soldiers, he found his way to the edge of the chasm. The sandstone tube stretched down into the black bowels of the earth. A cold, empty wind gusted up from the depths.
"What do we do?" someone whispered.
"We go down after him!" Karta shoved through the clan members. "Master's wounded and lost. He needs us." He grabbed the closest soldier and shook her by the shoulders. "This is where we prove our loyalty. We will find a way."
"You actually want him back?" A sea of white masks swiveled onto Rat. He didn't care. For the first time in his life, he felt like he could fly. "Old Banana Belly's finally gone. We can do whatever we want. We can leave the desert, if we want." He laughed.
The soldiers fell back, opening the way as Karta strode through. He towered over Rat, blocking out the light of the moon. "Is that so?"
Rat's legs stiffened. Soldiers knit together behind his back. They slid around his left side. At his right loomed the chasm. He swallowed.
"I need a volunteer," Karta said, "someone to keep Master company." He snatched Rat's wrist.
Rat jerked against him, but the man's fingers were steel. A moan echoed up the walls of the chasm like a cry from the world of the dead. "Let me go! Master's dead! He's dead!" Rat scratched at Karta's wrist. A soldier caught his other arm and twisted it behind his back.
Karta leaned down to Rat's ear. "Tell Master we're coming." And he shoved Rat into the chasm.
Rat screamed. He spun as he fell. The glow of the moon grew smaller, smaller, and was swallowed by the darkness.