Some notes before we begin
-YOU DO NOT HAVE TO HAVE PLAYED BOTW OR BE FAMILIAR WITH THE LORE TO READ THIS FIC, but it does kind of help if you want to know what's next. But I think it is better to read this fic as both a love letter to BOTW and BNHA, instead of an AU. Basically, I made this reader friendly!
- The races of the BOTW-verse have changed. There's still Zora, Gorons, Gerudo, etc. but i have changed them so they look a bit different from what we see in BOTW. This isn't a huge problem, specifically with so few chapters right now, but I'll provide character sheets for each race as they are introduced, but for the most part they still function like they do in BOTW.
- the language Katsuki uses is American Sign Language. I choose this because the Hyrule alphabet, the ancient Sheikah dialect, and the Gerudo hieroglyphics all translate to English directly. If left along too long, I tend to make up languages and dialects for my fics so I saved myself some time and just used a language I already knew. Being familiar with ASL isn't a requirement for this fic either, but hopefully you can learn a few useful signs from a bkdk fanfic, lol.
- The relationships between some characters has changed. Not everything lines up exactly like BOTW, so because of this I made some changes to the "background." This isn't relevant in chapter one, but you'll see what I mean as we continue, so please enjoy this!
Thank you very much for reading this fic. I promise I worked really hard on this to make you smile, so please appreciate this!
It started in the same way sleep comes, slowly, then all at once. The barest sliver of consciousness touching his mind, the whisper of thoughts lost to wind. There wasn't a single moment of realization for him, but just the sudden gradual feeling of floating, and then sinking. The cold was unbearable, sept so deeply into his bones that he was unsure if he would ever be warm again.
And then he heard him speak.
"Open your eyes."
The world snapped into clarity as his eyes focused. He became aware of his body first. His muscles were sore, his spine aching.. He bent his joints, first his arms and then his fingers and wrists, grunting softly as they cracked. How long has he been asleep? How did he get here? He was so cold.
What was his name?
It hit him so suddenly that he gasped, shooting upwards. Cold liquid poured from his mouth as he inhaled, then coughed as air entered his lungs. He sputtered wildly, catching his arms on the sides of whatever bed he was lying in.
What was his name? Nothing came up. No thread of familiarity attached itself. Words came to the forefront of his mouth, making him choke and stutter on nothing, before moving his hands in a way that was rhythmic, familiar. Sign.
He couldn't talk, couldn't speak, but that did not give him near as much fear as not knowing his name. He gasped once more, trying to fill his lungs with air, and more of that strange liquid splashed to the floor as he choked on the air.
"Katsuki." That familiar voice spoke again. It sounded… almost concerned. It did not whisper in his ear or come from any reasonable source in the room, but rather echoed in the forefront of his mind, soothing his fearful heart. "Please, get up."
His name was Katsuki.
It spoke his name like a command, and the panic that Katsuki had begun to fall victim to receded. Katsuki. Ka-tsu-ki. It was him, it was his name.
The fluid he coughed up was luminescent blue, shockingly so. It did not stain his skin or even felt wet, but even after it drained away into the curious porous holes in the bed, he still felt cold. Shivers wracked his body as he coughed up one final mouthful of the strange liquid. It did not taste bitter or metallic, but he was unsure if that was because it was in his mouth for so long or if it actually had no taste.
He exhaled again. His breath was foggy in the cool air. He realized quite suddenly he was only wearing a pair of short trousers.
Shakenly he stood, his knees firm but his heart racing wildly. One step onto the smooth looking floor of the small room made him yelp in surprise. It was cold as ice, colder than the strange bed and his bluish looking skin.
A harsh sound of certmetrics twisting upon joints made him glance up, and was mesmerized by a small pedestal like object rising from the floor, twisting to reveal a small slate like object. He inhaled, and then took one, two, three steps across the freezing floor to reach the item.
"That is the Sheikah Slate. Take it. It will help guide you after your long slumber."
He, whoever he was, spoke too soon, because the slate was already in Katsuki's hands. It was warm, humming with some sort of forigen energy that made his hands tingle. On one side it had a smooth rectangle that was black, reflecting his face. His skin was pale, his eyes were dark in the low lighting of the room, and the slope of his nose looked like it had been broken and healed improperly a few times. A thin scar ran just under his chin.
What had happened to him?
The rectangle glowed, at the same time emitting some sort of soft click as it did so. Katsuki had the feeling that it recognized him, just as the owner of the mysterious voice recognized him.
He wanted to apologize to the little object, because surely such a task must be daunting. If he did not know his own face or his own name, then what help would he be to the little warm slate?
The floor he stood on coughed out a little shudder as what he previously thought was a wall opened upwards into the ceiling in five segments, one after the other.
He carefully walked through it, to find some empty storage containers and some very old looking clothing that looked like it barely fit him. Along the far wall, another door inlaid with the wall, with two great carved pillars on either side.
He put the rags on, grateful for the little warmth they provided. They were made of rough burlap. The slate went on his belt where it seemed to fit perfectly, and the pockets were tested to make sure they had no holes. His finger went though the left, and he looked around for a needle and thread. None.
His brow crinkled, and irritation rose in his throat. What type of home had no needle or thread?
The shoes were made of old leather and pinched his toes, but they were soft on the inside and easily warmed up with his body heat.
He had no socks to put on, but he did spy the remains of the socks under a shelf, moth eaten and nothing but a ball of thread. He shoved the thread into the pocket with the hole, in both an effort to block the hole and in part to hold the thread in place with his tight clothing.
He looked around, carefully studying the bare walls and empty containers.
Something caught his eye. It was a pedestal, the same shape of the one he just previously saw, marked with the same eye-like emblem. It was between one of the carved pillars and the closed door. As he walked forward, he slipped the slate into his hands and brought it up to the pedestal, taping it ever so carefully to the smooth surface.
It seemed like the Sheikah Slate was like a key, and the pedestals the lock.
Some words flashed across the screen, or something similar to words. He realized quite suddenly that he couldn't read, or at the very least cannot recall any alphabet he knew how to read. Except for Sign, he was not sure if he had any way of communicating with anyone. He could not talk, could not read, and could not write.
That thought did not scare him as much as he thought it would.
With a great shudder, the door alighted with a blue glow in the middle, the eye shape glowing once. Two horizontal segments shifted into the wall with a horrible groaning, and the door lifted into five pillars like the one before. Katsuki screwed his eyes as suddenly a great big rush of warm wind rushed into the chamber, warming him to the very core.
Sunlight.
That voice that whispered in his ear murmured an encouraging feeling that Katsuki barely heard. With a rush of excitement that felt as if a hand was pushing him forward, Katsuki grinned and ran towards the light, all but vaulting over a strange rock-like wall with just enough footholds for Katsuki to scramble up on his palms, and finally finally FINALLY took his first step on soft grass.
It was green, and bright, and it smelled like mud and fresh air and the wind cut through his rags but the sun warmed him right back up. He stopped as he reached the edge of a small precipice, and his jaw dropped as he realized just how vast the land was before him.
A swelling of dizziness formed in the base of his skull and he sank to his knees. Trees filled every corner of his vision, and a vast plain of grass so far away that it almost looked blue rolled in time with the wind. On the far horizon a castle stood, colored blue with distance. Far above him, white clouds dotted the morning sky. It was bigger than anything he could have ever imagined, sitting in that cell with the strange blue water and cold floors.
That must be what that was, a cell. For no other reason he could imagine locking a soul in that dreadfully cold place.
That person, that voice, saved him. From what, he was unsure. But if he had spent a moment longer in there he never would have seen the real beauty of the world he lived in.
The faint sound of birdsong came from behind him, and he turned around quickly in an attempt to spot the thing, but to no avail.
The sudden movement triggered stars to sprout in his vision. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, letting the fresh air rush though his lungs in gasping breaths and the sun warm him. Oh, it was so warm. How ever did he live without the light of the sun? Already he dreads the night, not for the darkness but for the knowledge that he will have to go so long without this comforting warmth once more.
As he opened his eyes, movement caught in the corner of his eye, and he glanced over to see a thin shape of a man using a lantern as a walking stick just a few paces away.
Another person, another soul, in this big wide world. He seemed to observe him for a moment, before turning his back to him and walking slowly towards a small campfire, almost as if he was waiting for him.
Katsuki quickly cast his eyes on the ground for anything he could use as a weapon. He grabbed a long but thick stick on the ground, holding it up threateningly as he approached. The shoes he wore had very thin soles and he felt every pebble and soft step in the soil.
The man raised his eyebrows, but did not comment on the threatening posture or the improvised weapon. "It is quite strange to see another soul up in these parts. I mean you no harm, my boy. Sit down and have a rest by the fire for a bit."
The fire was shielded from the wind by a natural stone wall. A few tools lined the simple camp- a spare lanturn, a wooden torch, a burlap sack.
Katsuki shook his head, and with one hand reached up to place the tip of his thumb to his chin with his index fingers extended, and bending them twice, before pointing at the man.
"Who am I?"
Katsuki nodded once, still gripping the stick. Signing with one hand was… difficult. Luckily the meaning was still conveyed.
The man let out a breath that sounded almost like a chuckle. "I am just an old fool who has lived here for quite some time now."
The man gestured to the other side of the fire. "Please, my boy, an Old Man like me won't be able to harm a bright-eyed youth like you. We can have a conversation while you warm up."
Katsuki slowly put the stick down, and squatted by the fire but did not sit. The Old Man seemed to find this acceptable. He relaxed, leaning against the wall of the rock that shielded them from the cold wind. He did not fiddle or move, and seemed content by relaxing by the fire.
Katsuki signed nothing for a good long while, eyes sometimes leaving the man to stare at the beautiful tempting forest around them. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to escape the social niceties of travelers and go explore every nook and cranny.
Which… reminded him.
Katsuki raised his hands to his face once more, clicking his tongue to get the man's attention. He held up one finger and waved it in front of his chest, before tracing his collarbone in a wide shape.
"Where are we?" The Old Man confirmed. "Forgive me, my Sign is a bit rusty."
Katsuki this time did not respond, and rather just blinked at the man, expecting an answer.
"Well, I cannot imagine our meeting was a simple conscience of two wandering men." The man said with a cheerful smile. Katsuki's eyes narrowed. "I shall tell you. This is the Great Plateau, the birthplace of this entire kingdom according to legends of old."
The man stood up, using his lantern as a prop, and Katsuki launched to his feet, grabbing the stick once again, growling at the man. The fool again only raised an eyebrow, and Katsuki slowly lowered his posture.
"I assure you, I have neither the means nor the will to bring harm to you."
Katsuki this time rolled his eyes. The man had a giant walking stick and most likely the skills to use it if he had survived this long in the middle of nowhere.
Although he was skinny and his eyes sunken, he no doubt could bring a decent fight to Katsuki if the need arose.
The day was warm, and the early morning sun had little to do with it. It was clearly summer, and yet the man knew he was cold. He already knew more than he should have about Katsuki. It felt needlessly familiar, but not in the way the Slate hung at his hip. It was familiarly dangerous.
"I see I have quite a lot to do to get you to trust me," the man said, almost to himself. "But it is of no consequence to me. I will be here for quite some time, and I have a feeling you will also."
The Old Man stretched lazily, closing his eyes and letting out a soft hum. Katsuki's eyes dropped to the fire, where an apple was sitting just on the inside of the coals, its skin burnt by the heat of the flames. He quickly grabbed it, ignoring the searing pain on his palms as he quickly shoved it into his pocket. The Old Man didn't seem to notice.
The man pointed in the distance. Katsuki followed his gaze, eyes falling upon a dilapidated structure. "That's the birthplace of this fallen kingdom, sitting in ever-decaying ruins. Monsters have taken up residence in it, along with the rest of this land."
The man opened one eye. "I have no doubt you can handle yourself against foes, but I must warn you about the dangers this place is home to nevertheless."
Okay. He's had enough of small talk and this rather cryptic man. He stood, carefully analyzing the man to make sure he wasn't going to suddenly jump up and strangle him with those thin arms, and against all of his instincts he turned his back and walked towards the rising sun.
The Old Man only noticed the stolen apple after he left, and instead of anger he felt only bemusement. He pulled a fresh apple from his pocket, blew gently over the flames, and set it between the coals.
"What a wonderful young man," he spoke to himself. "No memories to his name, but already a slave to his stomach. That is the Katsuki I knew, alright."
Katsuki had freed an old and rusty axe from its resting place, half buried in the stump of a felled tree. The tree had long since been cleared away for firewood or even building materials, but the axe was left here in the elements to rot.
Katsuki tied back on some of the cloth handles with a long piece of grass, testing the weight in his hands. The wood of the handle was so rotten that it would probably snap after a few swings against a strong oak, but it would be a better weapon then those weak tree branches.
The forest lying along the path he followed was thick with overgrown grasses and trees, but with a little bit of searching and moving of the stone pavers making up the ancient road revealed edible roots and mushrooms.
He left the roots as they were on just the wrong side of green, but picked a few mushrooms he recognized as edible.
It was only after he set them upon his tongue and the bitter taste washed away the tang of metal when he realized he was not sure how he knew they were edible.
They were a dull orange color and inlay with red spots, and he had picked them out of a whole variety of brown and smaller looking mushrooms that lay just a few feet away. Why these, and not the brown ones?
He munches on them cautiously, bringing bites of the baked apple to his lips to starve off the bitter taste. The apple was sweet and its skin was soft, yielding under Katsuki's teeth. Juices dripped down his chin, and he reached up to wipe them away with his sleeve.
Well, if he dies of a poisonous mushroom now then he would have had a good life. Considering he has no memories before waking up in a cold and dark cell, escaping it has been nothing short of heavenly.
It was then something hit him behind the knee and sent him tumbling to the ground, before whipping right up, apple tossed aside and axe swinging, at whatever had hit him.
It was a monster. Red skinned, wearing the barest of clothes around its waist, and holding a crude club with its bark still attached to half of it. Its eyes glowed with a beady bright blue, and its breath was hot with the smell of foul meat.
Katsuki stumbled back, adjusting his grip on the axe, and swung it at an angle just as the monster jumped into the air, catching the crude weapon with the blade and completely chopping it into two.
The monster let out a screech, tossing the handle away.
Before it could recover and get in close to use its claws, Katsuki slammed the blade into its neck, and with a satisfying snap its head came loose from its body, held on with only the smallest amount of skin and sinew. At the same time, the blade of the axe completely broke off, the metal end flinging somewhere into the deep woods.
Katsuki let out a victorious holler that quickly turned into a cough as the monster burst into a cloud of thick, purple smoke that smelled strongly of burnt flesh and rotten magic.
A single blunt horn fell to the ground, the only remains of the monster. No bones, skin, or those useful looking leather scraps it wore. Just a single horn that still expelled some light purple smoke that smelled strongly of rotten eggs and urine.
Gross.
Katsuki kicked the horn into the woods in the direction of the metal axe head.
He considered briefly going after the axe blade, but after a moment of hesitation he decided not to.
He had no way to repair the axe, and even if he did he had no way to sharpen the blade to make it more useful than a rock. If the monsters on this so-called Great Plateau were as strong as the little weakling he beat with two swings, then he could rely on his wits for now.
He peeled the thick cloth off of the handle of the axe, holding it up to the sun to inspect for holes or weak spots. It was a well made burlap, made to withstand the elements and protect the user against blisters. He folded it and shoved it between his pants and his hip anyway.
Perhaps he could make a bag or a pair of socks later from the material. It was too thin to make a new shirt out of, but perhaps he could patch holes or use it as a bandage. A needle wouldn't be too hard to make if he was able to kill a small bird or another animal, and he still had the remains of his socks that were placed with the rest of his clothing. He could unstring that mess and use it for thread.
So many possibilities.
The rest of the axe, now reduced to a bladeless and clothless handle of rotten wood, was laid against the side of the tree.
Katsuki followed the paved road, eyes peeled for more of those little red monsters. Little tufts of grass and moss grew between the paved stones, adding a nice pop of color to the path. It was long abandoned- the elements had already begun to reclaim the edges, blurring the lines between wilderness and trail.
The sun slowly rose in the sky, drenching him in wonderful heat that warmed him to the bones. He stopped in his tracks as a glint of metal caught his eye.
A sword.
Embedded in the trunk of a tree, so old that the bark had begun to grow around it. Thick with rust, but with a blade thick enough that it would survive a few fights with those little red monsters- Bokoblins. Bokos. The name came easily to Katsuki. Just as easily as he knew the names of plants and animals and knew which mushrooms were safe to eat.
Katsuki pried the sword carefully from the bark and slung it onto his back. It had no sheath, but it was still better than that useless axe handle. The spare leather straps Katsuki had found in those storage containers fit perfectly as a girdle to hold items to. Including rusty swords found in the woods.
The road followed a well worn and open area. Long ago it looked like it might have been a promenade or a town square judging by the rotting foundations of stone buildings, but now it was an area prime for the defense. Monsters in their bright red skin dotting small hills and the foundations, and Katsuki could smell the wonderful scent of cooking meat.
He peered over the edge of one such hill. Two monsters gathered around an open campfire, letting a speared hunk of meat sizzle over the fire. Crude wooden weapons lay against a felled log, and two suspiciously painted barrels were stacked a few meters away.
Oh, Katsuki knew that color. Bright red with an insignia of flames drawn upon it. Gunpowder.
Katsuki stepped back, and accidentally moved the boulder he had taken refuge behind. It barely shifted a few centimeters. Then, an idea hit him.
He shoved his shoulder against the base of the boulder, digging his feet into the soft ground. The boulder shuddered and then broke free of its precarious home, tumbling down the hill and directly into the campfire, sending coals spewing everywhere.
The monsters let out cries of alarm but they were quickly drowned out by two loud BANGS! The sudden appearance of a huge rock crushing the barrels full of gunpowder caused a massive explosion, knocking the monsters onto their feet before they dissolved into purple miasma.
Katsuki felt a grin split his face as he slid down the hill as the monsters evaporated into that cloying purple smoke. The meat was covered in dirt and coals, but those were quickly brushed off.
The meat was so well smoked it could almost be called jerky, and was so tough Katsuki had to use his teeth to tear it into pieces. It was delicious.
Most of the weapons didn't survive the explosion, but a crude shield that looked like a piece of bark carved into a lopsided circle and a bow that was made of a twig and bark remained. A few scattered arrows and an interesting leather quiver also survived. The quiver was strapped to his leg.
He slumped next to the felled log, closing his eyes and inhaling. The sun was warm on his face, and the air was still hot with the heat of the explosion. He brought another bite of meat to his mouth, and tore it into an uneven chunk with his teeth.
And as he chewed, he kept his eyes closed. The wind on his face dried the sweat forming on his brow, and offered a cool relief as it ran through his hair. It also kicked up a light layer of sand, and it pecked against Katsuki's exposed arms.
"Katsuki."
That voice again. Katsuki's eyes shot open, the grip on the rusty sword he found tightening. The voice was soft, as if it was calling from far away.
Katsuki felt something rise in his chest. An emotion he was unfamiliar with, but he straightened his spine and narrowed his eyes anyway.
"Head to the point marked on the map of your Sheikah Slate," he whispered. Katsuki tried to call back, with a "Where are you?" or perhaps a "Who are you?" but his throat would make no sound.
He brought the Slate out, examining the little dark screen, before pressing one of the many circular swirls around its edges. It lit up with a soft click, and Katsuki noted it marked his current location in reference from the place he awoke.
He was about two hundred paces north of it and the Old Man's campfire, and on the map it reflected a little triangle north a small distance from a blue glowing point. Further to the north, a golden glowing circle was marked.
So, if he was two hundred paces north of the place he awakened, and this distance was shown on the map as the triangle, that meant that the glowing circle would be about four hundred paces more to the north and slightly west. Katsuki looked up, and spotted a huge pile of rocks guarded by a few more bokoblins. That must be it.
Katsuki put the slate back into the holder on his hip, and the sword on his back. The few arrows he was able to find on the ground went into the quiver. The bow he picked up from the little red monsters was obviously poorly crafted and not very strong, so he was not going to rely on it for now.
He walked swiftly towards the pile of stones, ducking in the short grass for the small cover it provided. A group of Bokoblins guarded the area, armed with more wooden weapons.
As he got closer to the creatures, he threw a half burnt weapon to his left, watching it break into two pieces as the monsters turned to it, and snuck up behind them.
As they were distracted, he plunged the sword into one neck, kicking the other monster to the ground. The first one instantly disappeared into a plume of purplish smoke, while the other let out a screech before Katsuki swung his sword once again.
This time one of them left behind a long tooth from when he kicked it to the ground, and bent down to inspect it. It was longer than the palm of his hand and very durable, but clearly partly rotten. He put it in his pocket anyway. Maybe he could throw it and use it as a weapon, or even turn it into a weapon later.
The area was scattered with more arrows, but he left them for now. He can always return later to gather them.
The last bokoblin was down a very small ledge that kept Katsuki hidden from view while also giving him an upland advantage. It held a very shiny looking sword and a rough looking shield. Katsuki cast one look at his rusty broadsword and the pitiful piece of bark that could barely be called a shield, and jumped into the air.
He attacked from above, slicing the monster in half before it could even notice him. The rusty sword and horrible shield were quickly discarded as Katsuki put his new shield and sword on his back, feeling proud and quite fancy. The new sword even came with a sheath!
Now he could fight monsters without having to worry about the blade breaking in the middle of battle. Or the shield splitting apart from an arrow.
With that thought, he inspected the shield once more. It was made of layered wood with a metal clamp, and had leather straps in place of a proper handhold on its back. It would clearly be able to block a few arrows but probably would not stand up to blows from a blunt object. One swing from a well crafted sword or hammer would shatter it, and his arm.
Still, it was better than nothing. It was also painted with an intricate design. He traced one of the swirls with his finger, and hissed as he caught a splinter.
Then, he inspected the rock pile. There was a little entrance into a very small cave, and inside it looked very similar to the material of the place he awoke. It even had a little pedestal with a slot for the Sheikah Slate. Katsuki faltered as he noticed this.
He was still not sure what that place was. Was it a prison, or a resting place? And was he so quick to return to something more similar?
But that voice asked him to do it. It gave him a name and the curious little slate. Surely it means no harm, right?
He has the slate now, as well. It worked like a key, so perhaps if this place tried to lock him up, he could simply free himself again.
Swallowing his apprehension and schooling his face into a neutral expression, he stepped forward, and took the slate from his hip and placed it into the slot.
It fit perfectly, and did an interesting little spin in its place before falling directly into the pedestal, before glowing a bright blue.
Some glowing text flashed across the screen, just like before.
Katsuki looked up, and noted that the ceiling of this cave was carved with similar looking material of the slate and the ground. His eye caught a crack forming along the wall, grains of sand trickling out of it like an hourglass. Something was happening, something that was about to-
Suddenly Katsuki fell backwards as the little cave he was in started to shake and crumble even more around him, sending falling rocks everywhere. He let out a small yelp as one landed on his foot, and gasped as suddenly the little place he was in shot into the sky like an arrow, blinding him in the sunlight and sending rocks everywhere.
The platform stopped moving, but the ground did not stop shaking, nor rocks stopped falling. He clung to the ground for his dear life, and knocked his head against the ground as it continued to rumble.
He screwed his eyes shut.
On the Great Plateau the bokoblins looked up in confusion and horror as the earth heaved, and when the Sheikah Tower rose into the sky it sent a wave of stone in every direction.
But it was not just on the Great Plateau that the earth shook. East, in the small reaches of a tucked away village, an old and shriveled man shielded his grandchildren with his body as he watched the lanterns in his home swing back and forth. Despite the screams of his charges, he couldn't help but smile as he knew exactly what it was.
Even further east, a pink-haired inventor just barely caught her current project from shattering across the floor, as her assistant yelled at her to get back under the table. She could only grin, and clutch the object to her chest as excitement filled her chest. She giggled, somewhat maniacally, and reached for a tool that fell from the table. She did not have a moment to spare, now. Every moment from now must be spent with her research.
North of them, a man clung to his only daughter as he watched the old lighthouse he had taken refuge in shake, his designs and drawings falling to the floor. His daughter shouted something about the telescope not holding as she burst out of his grip, desperately stumbling up the stairs.
And far west, tucked away in a crevice in the rock, All for One's followers watched in horror as the tower they had worked so hard to deactivate one hundred years ago rose once more, glowing a promising gold.
The hero had awoken.
The shaking finally stopped. Katsuki rose onto his shaking knees, using the pedestal as a crutch, gasping for breath. He reached up to a sting on his forehead, and his fingers came back sticky with blood. His foot hurt too, but he could still put weight on it, so it wasn't broken. Katsuki licked his hand before wiping away the blood on his forehead that was already beginning to clot. His entire body was covered in a fine layer of dust, and he brushed himself off vigorously, spitting a few times to get the sand out of his mouth.
And then he caught sight of the land, far below him in rolling plains and trees that looked like saplings, and walls that looked like lines drawn in the ground. He stumbled back to the pedestal, clutching to it. He was so high up, the wind quickly blowing away any missed rubble from his skin and undoing the knots in his hair. He took in a sharp breath, and let go of the pedestal, taking a few shaking steps forward towards the edge.
It was a tower. He was on a tower. A tower that had shot out of the ground like an arrow. Delicate lace-like looking metal decorated the outside, while the inside glowed like the core of a fire. Ledges stuck out of the tower in a spiral manner, with enough distance between the two that he could probably get back down easily but climbing back up would be a great task.
Whatever, he was NOT coming back up here. It was way too high up! Getting down would already be a terror of itself!
He prepared to jump down onto the first ledge when he realized he forgot something. He turned back to the pedestal, just in time to watch a great big drop of blue liquid similar to the stuff he was sleeping in drip down from the crystal-like object and onto the slate. He watched the screen flash, and snatched the slate away before it could do anything else.
It was a map. The tower had given him a map of the area. Before it was only a black grid-like mass with three points, but now it was detailed with forests and hills and elevation. With a great sigh of relief, he read the name of the locations marked on the map with ease. So he could read. He was a little slow, and had no way to pronounce the sounds that he stumbled over, so some words would end up mispronounced in his head, but he could read. He clutched the slate to his chest as warmth pooled in his stomach, grinning wildly as he did so. Since he woke up just a few short minutes before he had nothing but a name. Now he had three things- a name, this slate, and a language he could write and sign in.
And he could sign in it! He could fingerspell his name out. K-A-T-S-U-K-I. He did this twice, before sliding the map inwards with his fingers to inspect the area.
Like the Old Man said, he was in an area called the Great Plateau. To the middle of the map there was a forest, and to the south there was a great river and mountain. Farther east was something that looked like the ruins of a very small town. He could see ruins of buildings on the map that correspond with what he could see in the distance, and the place where he woke up was called the Shrine of Resurrection.
Resurrection…
He fingerspelt the word. R-E-S-U-R-R-E-C-T-I-O-N. Then again, quicker this time. He didn't know how to pronounce it properly, but he could split the word and figure it out. Re means again, and surrect means to rise, and tion was just a word ending…
Rise again? The shrine of Rise Again?
Katsuki slowly lifted his shirt up over his belly, staring at the thick ropy scars. They were old, very old. They were not childhood wounds, for they did not stretch and pull, but rather were perfectly aligned with the mark of a sword and a blast of some sort. They were thick but the skin had long since adapted to it, with the tissue going deep but the surface damage only shiny with age. It offered no pain and pressing down on it awakened no old injuries. Whoever healed him was clearly skilled, or had great medical technology.
Like technology that could cause a great earthquake and glow without any scent of magic. That could give a map of the surrounding area to his slate with only a drop of liquid.
Technology that he awoke in and has been surrounded by ever since.
"Try to remember." His train of thought was interrupted once more by that whispering, pleading voice. This time, he could sense a direction as he turned and looked at the castle in the distance, which looked so small.
Small on the horizon, great walls a misty blue. He squinted, and gasped as something glowed at the highest tower, shining with a light that was so visible even in the daylight, humming with power.
It looked just like the light behind his eyelids before he woke up.
He knew it was the source of his voice, just as he knew so deep in his heart that he had to rescue him.
As soon as that realization hit him, he watched in shock as something thick and smoky rose around the castle with another shake of the earth, forming into something solid and eyeless and horrible. Even from this long distance he could tell it was stunning and that it was wrong.
The castle itself was covered in a whirling miasma as thick as smoke. It ran across the castle like a fire, lifting its face into the air with a silent roar that Katsuki felt echoing in his heart.
"The beast," the voice almost gasped, getting louder with each sentence. "When the beast regains its true power, this world will face its end."
Light exploded from atop the highest pillar in the castle, a song that stilled the miasma's movements.
Katsuki gripped the small sword but only a moment too late. The beast seemed to settle in its place along the castle's outer pillars, held back by that holy force of light.
"Have no fear, hero. We've done this before. But you've slept for one hundred years, my Katsuki, and in that time the beast has grown more and more terrible by the day. You must hurry."
"I don't even know who I am!" Katsuki signed, desperately, his sword falling to the floor with a loud clatter.
"I know your heart," the voice soothed, as much as it could without a physical touch. "Just as deeply as you once knew mine."
Getting down from the tower sucked ass.
About halfway down, Katsuki jumped a little bit too far and was just barely able to grab onto the lace-like metal of the tower instead of landing on the platform, shouting in pain as the metal dug into his hands. They came away bloody, and he had no bandages to stop the bleeding. He was pretty sure he also pulled a muscle in his shoulder too, because there was a stitch in his shoulder he was unable to massage out.
The cuts were shallow, but angled in a way that made opening and closing his palms difficult, and stung with the taste of metal. Katsuki had inspected the metal when he had climbed down onto the first platform, and it seemed to just be made up of easily climbable handholds and footholds. Now he will have to be careful of anything similar in the future since it cut his hands so easily.
Katsuki scoffed at the thought. As if he was climbing that thing again. No thank you, he will stay on the ground where there were no earthquakes and no weird glowing shit.
"Young man!"
Katsuki whirled around just as the Old Man flew in on a paraglider. Okay, he's only been awake for a few hours but seriously, his life cannot get any weirder than this.
Where did he even glide in from? The place was flat for about three hundred paces and the only place high enough to gain that altitude was from Mount Hylia far in this distance, but the Old Man looked way too fragile to handle such a trip.
He did not come from the direction of the tower because Katsuki would have noticed him either climbing up or sneaking up.
Ah, how creepy.
"This is quite an enigma we have here!" The man cheerfully spoke without a care for how on edge Katsuki was. "Those towers have popped up like mushrooms all over Hyrule! Oh dear- Is that blood?"
Katsuki threw his hands behind his back like a child caught with a toy he should not have, but the Old Man instead gestured to the cut on his forehead. "A moment, I have a potion in my bag here-"
The man pulled a bag seemingly from nowhere, and Katsuki's nose wrinkled at the scent of magic. At least it wasn't evil magic like the stink of monsters, but it still smelled too sharp to Katsuki's nose.
When the Old Man stuck his hand in farther than what the bag would allow, Katsuki only rolled his eyes. Enchanted. The man pulled out a thick looking red liquid capped in a dirty bottle and ordered Katsuki to hold out his hands.
Katsuki, obviously, did not.
"My boy, have you never seen a healing potion before?" The man's eyebrow raised in question. "It is not poison."
Katsuki turned away stubbornly and began to walk away.
"Wait!" The Old Man put a hand on his shoulder, and Katsuki made a move to slap it away but just barely brushed the man's thin arm. "I'll drink it first to prove that it is not poisonous. Then will you let me treat the wounds on your hand?"
Katsuki pressed his lips together. If he tried to sign back, the movement would break the small clots already forming along his palms. If he tried to swing a sword or knock an arrow, the same would happen. Like it or not, Katsuki needed his hands.
Katsuki nodded sharply, once. The Old Man uncorked the potion and brought it to his lips, taking a hefty gulp under Katsuki's watchful eye, not breaking eye contact.
Katsuki waited for a moment for the Old Man to drop dead or turn into a snake. When he did not, he held out his hands.
"Thank you, my boy." The man grinned. He poured a small amount of potion into Katsuki's left palm and instructed him to rub his hands together. While Katsuki obediently did so, he dipped his pointer finger into the potion and brought it to the cut on his head.
Katsuki shivered as the wounds on his hands closed almost immediately with a sharp twist of the skin. It was like being pinched.
Across the small pond, Katsuki noticed the weird building that was now glowing with a strange golden light.
"I must ask, my boy." The Old Man recorked the bottle and placed it back into the bag stinking of magic. "What do you plan on doing next?"
Katsuki paused. The Old Man was clearly hiding something from him. He knew that Katsuki was cold coming out of the Shrine of Resurrection, and he appeared from no clear angle from the sky, just so happened to carry a healing potion for wounds?
He also apparently had no comment about Katsuki climbing down from the tower, or the earthquake that happened beforehand.
But Katsuki had no other choice than to rely on him for support. He was alone in this world, with the only person who knew who he was and gave him a name locked away in a castle far away.
(He could see him now, in the corner of his eye. The castle in the distance that kept the beast at bay.)
"I want to get off this risen land," he signed. "Sorry, I don't know how to spell it. I want to get off."
"The Plateau?" The Old Man made a sign with his hands as he spoke. He held one hand up like in prayer, and the other slid next to it, then made a sharp angle upward. Katsuki mimicked it. The man corrected the order of the hands, and Katsuki stubbornly signed it the same way. The Old Man eventually gave up, and gestured to the walls of the Plateau.
"We are up too high to get down safely. There used to be a road long ago, but it has long since collapsed and filled with rainwater. That's what that pond is." He pointed to the little pond with the building that looked similar to the build of the tower and the Shrine of Resurrection on the other side of its bank.
Katsuki's shoulders fell. He saw the height the plateau rose above the rest of the world. Perhaps if he found a rope, or maybe a rock face with lots of handholds-
"Hoho, boy! You can easily get down with a paraglider like mine. No need to look so glum!"
Katsuki whirled around. "Give it!"
The man's eyebrows raised. "Nothing in this world is free. It is quite unfair, but I am afraid that if you want this paraglider you'll have to do something for me."
Okay. Whatever. He could work whatever job this Old Man threw at him. He would plow this entire damned plateau in under a day to make it into farmland, or fight any monster with his new fancy sword if that's what it took to make the paraglider his.
"Tell me what I have to do," he signed, making sure to make them slow so he wouldn't look too desperate. His heart pounded in his ears as the Old Man pointed to the now glowing shrine.
Most of the worldbuilding I've created for this world exist in later chapters in subtle nuances from the original BOTW plot and changes to characters motivations. I didn't want to make the 1500th canon rewrite. I didn't JUST want to stick, say, Kirishima, into a role that most "fit" him. So characters and their roles from BOTW don't exist. Sorry, Kirishima isn't Prince Sidon. Because the existence of Prince Sidon cannot be filled by anyone OTHER then Prince Sidon. Kirishima carves his own role in this story. Katsuki and Izuku are a little more bound by destiny to do certain things at certain times, but that's to be expected.
Some roles are also filled, like the pilots of the Divine Beasts and people who help Katsuki along the way. As you can see in this chapter, Mei Hatsume even has a role. But their personalities will shine bright, don't worry!
Also I changed the races around to be a bit more monstrous and have more diversity among those races. Like different clades of Zora and Goron. The only race that's mostly the same is the Hylians and Sheikah, but they've had some changes as well. I'll (hopefully) post artwork relating to their designs as as time goes on.
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!