Chapter One: Link's Awakening (Twice)
"Link…" A voice stirred in the darkness around him, soft yet insistent, like a whisper from a dream. It almost sounded like a girl calling his name.
"Link… open your eyes…"
There it was again. With a groan, Link obeyed, prying his eyes open. He swung his legs over the bed, halfway out before realizing something unsettling—his sister, Eliana, had moved to Castle Town with her boyfriend months ago. He lived alone in this small, isolated hut now.
Heart pounding, he snatched up the closest weapon he could find—a heavy bronze candlestick—and pushed himself to his feet, eyes scanning the room for intruders.
Hyrule was safer than the nearby, crumbling kingdom of Lorule, sure. But on the edge of the Faron Woods, safety was relative. There were still threats here—Bokoblins prowling in the shadows, and on rare nights, even the rumor of a Gerudo thief venturing from the desert. After all, that was how the hut's last residents had met their fate, which was also why Link had managed to buy the place so cheaply.
A flicker of movement by the table snapped him into action. Before he knew it, he was charging forward, candlestick raised, ready to strike down whatever creature dared to lurk in his kitchen.
But he stopped short, sliding to a halt as he took in the sight before him. Hovering in the center of the room was… an apparition. A ghostly figure.
Link's heart raced as he stared. He'd never actually seen a ghost before, but he'd always imagined something gaunt, decayed, sinister. But this… this was different. A wide-eyed girl bathed in warm, golden light stood before him, her form wavering slightly, clad in a tattered pink dress. She was slightly older than him, maybe 26, and her long blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, almost glowing.
"Link…" she murmured, her voice soft and otherworldly.
Link blinked, his mouth dry. "Erm… yes? Who are you?"
"Link… I need your help. I don't have much time, but you must come to find me."
Well, that answered one question but left about a dozen others unanswered.
"Alright, listen, lady. I don't know who you are, but I'm not really in the business of helping ghosts who barge into my house and start demanding things… in the middle of the night, no less."
The ghost's expression shifted, looking almost… offended. As if she—whatever she was—wasn't accustomed to this kind of response when randomly appearing in people's houses at midnight. "You… how dare—" She stopped herself, taking a moment to compose. "My name is Zelda," she announced, lifting her chin with dignity, clearly expecting that to mean something.
Zelda… Why did that name sound so familiar? Then it hit him. "Zelda… like the princess? Are you the princess's ghost? Wait… the princess is dead!?" Panic flared in Link's chest. If the princess was dead, and if her ghost was here, did that mean… he was about to be haunted? Did he have something to do with her death? No, he'd remember something like that… wouldn't he? Sure, he'd had a bit too much to drink when he visited Elliana last month, but as far as he recalled, the only casualty had been his pride when he fell into a bush.
The spirit sighed, visibly exasperated, and the golden light around her dimmed. "I am not dead, you idiot! Could you just listen for two seconds?!"
Link took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Once he stopped hyperventilating at the idea of murdering a princess, she continued.
"I am Princess Zelda the Eighth of House Ordon, daughter of the late King of Hyrule, Rhoam the Sixth. I am supposed to be crowned queen next week, but without your help, that may not happen." She fixed him with a piercing glare. "Now, will you let me explain, or shall I just die right here so I can haunt you for the rest of your short life?"
Link swallowed and nodded. That glare could probably freeze a lynel.
"Good." She drew herself up, gathering her thoughts. "An hour ago, I was in a carriage procession, traveling from Ordon Chateau to Hyrule Castle for the final coronation preparations. Unfortunately, thanks to the royal council's brilliance, the regent assigned to rule in my stead turned out to be, as everyone suspected, an evil wizard with a taste for thrones. He had his assassins ambush the procession. I managed to escape, and I'm hiding in… well, some ditch or other."
She shot him a pointed look. "I used my powers to find someone nearby, and lucky for you, you were the closest option. Your mission—should you choose to accept it, and no, it's not optional—is to come find me and get me safely to Castle Town. Now."
With that, the apparition vanished, leaving Link standing alone in the dark hut, blinking in stunned silence.
Well. Okay then. Not even a goodbye—that was rude. Link sat there, debating whether he should really leave the safety of his hut, in the dead of night, without much of a weapon, and head into a forest apparently full of assassins… He thought about it for all of five seconds before remembering the glare the princess had given him.
Groaning, he quickly threw on a green tunic, tugged on his boots, grabbed his axe, and opened his front door.
Right as he stepped outside, a flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a torrential downpour that drenched everything in seconds. Of course. Perfect timing.
Accepting his fate, he trudged into the storm toward the dark line of trees. As he walked, another thought hit him: how on earth was he supposed to find her? The Faron Woods stretched for miles! Just as he started wondering if an evil wizard king might not be the worst thing in the world, a golden light flickered ahead.
"Oh, right. Almost forgot," came Zelda's voice, disembodied but still irritated. "This golden light will guide you to me. I've set up some traps around here, but I didn't want to make too much noise. Just try to avoid them."
"Ah, yes, naturally. And while I have you here, princess, why can't you come to me instead? Why am I slogging through the storm?"
Her face appeared, and she fixed him with that same glare—the lynel one. "Because, in case you missed it, I'm in a long dress, barefoot, and defenseless except for some basic light magic. You, on the other hand, have boots and an axe. Also, you're already outside."
And with that, she vanished again, leaving him with nothing but the floating light. "Well, excuse me, princess," he muttered, setting off after the orb. He had a sneaking suspicion she could have come to him if she'd wanted, but clearly, she was used to being the one waited on.
The orb led him deeper into the forest, which was now nearly unrecognizable under the pounding rain. He passed an abandoned bokoblin camp, his eyes searching for signs of danger, but the woods were eerily quiet.
Every now and then, the orb would dart in a new direction, leaving him scrambling to keep up. Finally, after what felt like hours, he stumbled onto a road lined with broken branches, bodies, and an overturned carriage bearing the royal crest.
"Psst! Zelda! Are you here?" he whisper-shouted, hoping she'd show herself and spare him the trouble of searching. Instead, his call attracted something else—a tree shifted and started moving towards him.
Wait… trees didn't usually move like that. Or at all. Cursing, Link took off across the road, chasing the golden light as an assassin bolted after him.
The pounding of footsteps was right behind him as he darted through trees, leapt over streams, and startled a very surprised ChuChu. More footsteps sounded to his right—apparently, the assassin had friends. The golden orb suddenly veered through an arch formed by low-hanging branches, and he barely had time to notice the rope strung across the ground. He vaulted over it just in time; the assassins behind him weren't as lucky, and an avalanche of sticks and boulders tumbled from the trees.
Finally, it seemed he'd lost them, and the orb slowed, hovering over a large hole in the ground. Peering up from within, her face muddy and her expression furious, was Princess Zelda in all her bedraggled glory. "Took you long enough," she huffed as he pulled her out of the hole.
"You're welcome, princess. By the way, I ran into those assassins—they seem nice. But I have a feeling we should get moving if we'd like to keep our heads."
Right on cue, the snap of twigs sounded behind them. They turned to see three hooded figures emerging from the shadows, one of them draped in leaf and stick-covered robes.
"Well, well, well, your highness," the leader sneered. "Looks like we've caught up with you after all. And as for your friend in green, I assume he'll die just as easily as you." With that they began to move forward.
"Now hold on," Link interrupted, raising a hand. "This is all just a simple case of mistaken identity. She's not the princess—look at her! Everyone knows princesses wear crowns—" He paused, catching sight of the diadem on Zelda's head.
Without a second thought, he snatched it and flung it into the trees. "See? No crown. Definitely not a princess."
The assassins stared, dumbfounded, while Zelda looked at him like he'd just lost his mind. "That was your plan? Oh, goddesses help me—I'm going to die in the woods, covered in mud, with an imbecile."
The assassins drew their knives and began advancing, forcing Link and Zelda to back up… right toward the hole. Zelda's foot slipped, and she instinctively grabbed his arm, yanking him down with her.
As they fell, Zelda screamed, and a blinding light flared around them. Link's last thought, as the sensation of her grip faded and the fall picked up speed, was Hmm… I don't remember the ditch being this deep.
Then, a blast of cold air hit him as he slammed into the ground. Everything went black.
Link came to with a groan, his head pounding and his body swaying as if on the roughest sea voyage he'd ever endured. His eyes squinted against the bright morning light, and he instinctively tried to rub his aching temples—only to find his hands bound tightly with an itchy, coarse rope.
A voice, calm and edged with curiosity, broke through his haze. "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there."
Link blinked, his vision settling on the speaker: a man with shoulder-length blond hair, clad in sturdy-looking hide armor with faded blue accents. The man's tone was strange, yet warm, as if addressing an old friend.
As Link looked around, the "boat" he'd imagined revealed itself to be a cart—a rough, rattling cart, rolling steadily downhill through a mist-laden forest. Beside him sat a teenager in ragged clothing, his face set in a mix of defiance and resentment. Across from him was an older man in gray furs, a heavy gag over his mouth, his eyes sharp and watchful.
The boy in rags spat out words, dripping with scorn. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you lot showed up. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I'd have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He looked at Link, suspicion mingling with sympathy. "You there… You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
Link stared, struggling to piece together the names and places swirling around him. Stormcloaks, Empire, Skyrim, Hammerfell… nothing clicked. It was as though he'd landed in a strange land where everyone spoke in riddles. Could the wizard Zelda mentioned have put together an empire so quickly? How long had he been asleep for? And where was he-nothing looked familiar.
The thief's glare snapped to the gagged man. "And what's with him, huh?"
The blond warrior stiffened, his expression hardening. "Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."
King. That, at least, was a familiar word. The thief's eyes widened as he stammered, "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? The leader of the rebellion? But if they've captured you… oh gods, where are they taking us?"
Link's mind reeled, trying to parse the jumble of strange titles and ominous implications. Jarl? Windhelm? As he puzzled over the meaning, his attention shifted back to their surroundings: the cart was rolling through a stone gate into a town clinging precariously to a steep mountainside. Who would build a town in such a cold, desolate place? He hadn't seen any building style like this before, and it definitely wasn't anywhere near Hyrule Field or Faron. Maybe it was in the north? But there were no Rito to be seen.
Ahead, a group on horses directed the carts. At the front was a gray-haired man in worn, red-plated armor, his gaze severe and unyielding—a soldier, without a doubt. Beside him rode a woman dressed in shadowy robes, her ears pointed and skin pale gold. Her features were all edges: a pointed chin, sharp yellow eyes, and an unmistakable air of disdain. Her gaze swept over the prisoners, landing briefly on Link with a look of pure contempt.
A nearby soldier called out, "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"
The gray-haired man, Tullius, nodded grimly. "Good. Let's get this over with." His voice was rough yet unwavering, the kind of voice that was used to giving commands.
The blond warrior beside Link muttered fiercely under his breath, glaring at the robed woman. "Look at him, General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they're behind all this. Funny—when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers made me feel safe."
Link frowned, trying to understand. He caught bits and pieces of surrounding conversations: Helgen, Thalmor. Perhaps the town they'd entered was called Helgen, and the woman on horseback was a Thalmor… whatever that was. His head spun with questions, but the steady clip-clop of hooves and rumble of the cart silenced his voice.
As they passed through the town, villagers lined the streets, watching with a mixture of curiosity and dread. A young boy caught Link's eye, his gaze both fearful and wide with wonder, before his father quickly ushered him inside.
The cart slowed as it reached the end of the road. Link noticed the banter between the blond and brown-haired men had died down, their expressions now tight and silent. The air grew tense, thick with an unspoken fear that Link felt stirring in his own chest. With a sudden jolt, the cart ground to a halt. The soldiers in red armor moved forward, barking orders as they began to usher the prisoners out.
The blond man murmured softly, his voice tinged with a resigned sorrow. "This is the end of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."
Those words hung in the air, each syllable sending a cold shiver down Link's spine. He glanced toward the center of the square where a massive axe glinted in the morning sun, and the reality of his situation hit him with brutal clarity. Maybe rather than just kill him, the assassin's decided to play with his nerves a bit. Or a public execution to show what betraying the new king would look like. But where was Zelda? Maybe she had just been quietly killed.
The teenager started to frantically yell at the others in the cart. "You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"
But the situation only worsened. A woman in silver and red armor stepped towards their cart, her expression cold. "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time."
"Empire loves their damned lists," the blond man muttered as he climbed out of the cart, his voice heavy with resignation.
A younger soldier, with brown hair that fell over his eyes, approached, also clad in red armor, though his was simpler, with more hide and less metal. His gaze froze slightly when it landed on the blond man, but his expression hardened. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm."
Ulfric didn't speak, his face a mask of defiance as he dismounted from the cart. The blond man offered a few murmured words of support. Then it was the next name.
"Ralof of Riverwood. Lokir of Rorikstead."
Ralof climbed down calmly, but Lokir, the teenager, looked wildly around, terror etched across his face. "No! I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" In a burst of desperate energy, he broke into a sprint, running toward the town's gate.
"Halt!" the woman shouted, but Lokir didn't slow down. "Archers!" At her command, a group of soldiers raised their bows, aiming at the fleeing man.
"No! Wait!" Link yelled, but it was too late. The archers released their arrows, and they struck true. Lokir was catapulted forward, his body hitting the ground facedown with a sickening thud. He didn't move again. Around him, onlookers gasped and muttered, but the red-armored soldiers barely reacted, already turning back to their list.
Link stood, horrified, his mind reeling. Someone had just died. Right there. And no one cared. He remembered Lokir's plea that he wasn't a rebel, just a kid caught in the wrong place. Even if he had been a rebel, how could they kill him so easily? Were the rebels really that dangerous? And what was this "Empire" these soldiers served?
The woman addressed the prisoners, her voice calm and mocking. "Anyone else feel like running?"
The young man with the list continued to call names, his pen scratching over paper. Then he looked up, his eyes settling on Link. "Wait. You there. Step forward. Who are you?"
Link tried to shake off his horror and focus. Running was clearly not an option, so he had to buy time. "Link," he said, stepping forward.
The man narrowed his eyes. "Link who? Last name? Where are you even from? You've got the ears, but you don't look like any elf I've ever seen."
Link hesitated. Elf? "My last name is Starfall. And I'm from Faron."
The man looked at him blankly and shook his head. "Captain. What should we do? He's not on the list."
The woman glanced over, her expression dismissive. "Forget the list, Hadvar. He goes to the block. We found him right in the middle of the rebel encampment. He's one of them."
Hadvar looked appalled, his mouth opening as if to protest, but the captain silenced him with a glare. After a moment, he nodded, his shoulders slumping. "By your orders, Captain." He turned to Link, his voice softer. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure your remains are returned to… Faron, was it? Where is that?"
Link's throat tightened. "You know, Faron? In Hyrule?"
Hadvar paused, nodding as if the name had some vague familiarity. "Ah, all right. I've never heard of that village, but I'll make sure you get back to High Rock."
Link's heart sank. They really thought he was one of them. How had it come to this?
He fell in line with the other prisoners, steeling himself for what was coming. As they shuffled forward, the grey-haired man, who Ralof had called "General Tullius," dismounted from his horse and addressed the gagged man. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Ulfric's eyes blazed, but the gag silenced him. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."
Link shifted, glancing around uneasily. Skyrim. So that was the name of this strange, brutal place. But why was he here? And who could have brought him? The soldiers didn't seem to be mindless puppets of some dark wizard, but how else could he have ended up in this mess?
A low, strange sound rolled through the air, rumbling from the distant mountains. It sounded almost like a Lynel's roar, though even more ominous.
"What was that?" Hadvar asked, looking around. The general glanced up but dismissed it, ordering the captain to continue.
A woman in orange and yellow robes stepped forward, beginning a solemn chant. She raised her arms, one hand clutching a symbol on a rope. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you…"
But one of the prisoners interrupted, spitting at her feet. "Get on with it!" Link couldn't understand his impatience. For his part, he'd have taken as long as possible, anything to stall his execution.
The man stepped forward, though, placing his head on the block. "Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"
The executioner's axe fell swiftly, and Link couldn't help but retch as the blood sprayed. The blue-armored men around him erupted in angry shouts, but townspeople in the square yelled back, jeering with shouts of "Death to the Stormcloaks!" It felt surreal, as if he were in a nightmare.
"Next, the blond one with the ears!" called the captain, her gaze falling on him. Link glanced around, realizing she meant him. He bristled at her words. His ears were perfectly normal for a Hylian—long and slightly pointed, as they should be. Why was everyone so fixated on them?
Then, the rumbling roar echoed from the mountains again, louder, as if drawing closer.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?" Hadvar turned to the general and the captain, his eyes wide with concern. The captain glared back. "Hadvar, you aren't saving that prisoner. Move!"
Hadvar looked at Link apologetically. "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."
As he moved forward, Link desperately tried to think of a way out. He silently prayed to Hylia, Farore, even Din for a miracle. He tried to summon any scrap of light magic, but as expected, nothing happened. There had to be a way. He thought of his sister, his small home back in Hyrule, his friends, and even Zelda, hoping she was safe. He wished that she could somehow be here to save him, or that a Lynel might appear to disrupt the execution.
He knelt down, resting his neck on the cold block, and looked up to the sky, hoping for a glimpse of the heavens one last time. The roar sounded a third time, louder and closer. A dark shape appeared over the mountains, moving at impossible speed.
General Tullius's voice rang out in disbelief. "What in Oblivion is that?!"
A guard screamed, "Dragon!" And just as the executioner raised his axe, the dark shape hurtled down, landing with a crash on the watchtower. The ground trembled, and the executioner stumbled back, losing his grip on the axe.
The dragon, as the townspeople had called it, was unlike anything Link had ever seen—massive, black, and covered in spiked scales. Its hateful eyes scanned the square, and then it opened its jaws wide, releasing a roar in an unfamiliar language: "STRUN GOLZ MAH!"
The sky darkened, and in an instant, fiery stones began to rain down from above.
The square exploded into chaos. Link stood frozen in shock, only half-aware of General Tullius shouting orders to the guards. Arrows whizzed through the air, ricocheting off the dragon's armored scales with dull, useless clinks.
A rough hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him upright. It was Ralof. "Hey! Get up! The gods won't give us another chance!" Ralof urged, hauling him along. They sprinted past burning buildings and through streets littered with debris and the injured, Ralof guiding him urgently toward a stone tower.
"Quickly, through here!" Ralof said, pushing him through the heavy wooden door.
Inside, Link caught his breath and took in the room. Ulfric and a few other Stormcloak soldiers had already made it in, each of them battered and tense. Ralof, looking to Ulfric, asked, "Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"
"Legends don't burn villages," Ulfric replied grimly. "We need to move. Now." Ralof nodded, motioning Link to follow. "Let's go! Up the tower with me!"
But Link hesitated, an uneasy thought dawning on him. "Wait—why would we go up if that thing can fly? Shouldn't we stay inside, out of sight?"
Just as he spoke, the wall shattered as the dragon's head smashed through, its fiery gaze sweeping the room. It inhaled sharply, then unleashed a torrent of flames that sent everyone diving for cover.
"Need more convincing?" Ulfric shouted at him, though Link barely heard; he was already scrambling up the stairs. The dragon pulled back, and as the smoke cleared, Link reached the top. Coughing, he looked out over the scene of destruction, his stomach twisting at the sight of fires spreading across rooftops and panicked villagers fleeing through the smoke-filled streets.
Ralof joined him, glancing at the nearby building. "Quickly, jump to that inn!" Without waiting, Link leapt, clearing the gap in a roll and landing on the inn's roof. "Whoa…didn't know I could do that," he muttered to himself, a fleeting hint of pride cut short as the floor collapsed beneath him. He crashed through to the ground floor, shaking off the dust as he stumbled to his feet.
Outside, he found Hadvar organizing a small group of villagers. The air was thick with tension and smoke as Hadvar barked, "Haming, get over here—now! Torolf!" A stone crashed down on Torolf, and the boy sprinted to Hadvar's side. "Everyone, get back!"
Spotting Link, Hadvar shouted, "Still alive? Good! Stay close if you want to keep it that way!" He gestured to another man. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I'm finding General Tullius and joining the defense."
Link followed Hadvar, darting between crumbling buildings. They pressed themselves against a tall stone wall as Hadvar ordered, "Stay close to the wall!" But the dragon landed nearby with a thunderous impact, sending cracks through the earth. One of its claws scraped the ground barely an inch from Link's arm. Frozen in place, he stared at its massive talon before Hadvar yanked him back to his senses.
"Come on!" Hadvar yelled. They ran through the square, where General Tullius and more soldiers fought to hold their ground. "Hadvar! To the keep, soldier—now!" the general commanded, his voice rising over the cacophony.
Hadvar nodded, glancing at Link. "It's you and me. Stay close!" They sprinted toward the imposing stone keep, but before they could reach it, Ralof appeared, another rebel close behind him.
"Ralof!" Hadvar's voice hardened as he glared at the rebel. "Damn traitor! Out of my way!"
Ralof glared right back, undeterred. "We're escaping, Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time!" The other rebel took a step forward, fists clenched.
"Fine!" Hadvar snapped, his face twisted with anger. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"
The two men stared each other down, familiar in a way that struck Link like siblings caught in a long-standing feud. They both turned to him expectantly, each seeming to assume he'd join their side.
Link hesitated, his mind racing. Ralof was more familiar, but Hadvar had risked himself to help him survive and had defended him earlier. Too conflicted to choose, Link did the only thing that felt right—he dashed toward the nearest door and pushed into the keep. A few moments later, Hadvar slipped in behind him, shaking his head.
The thick stone walls muffled the chaos outside, though the keep still trembled with the dragon's roars echoing above. For now, at least, they were safe.