Akkala Fortress, the Night of Hero's Day

It was the banging that woke Remiss. The voice from right outside his quarter's door pierced through immediately after, a repeated cry of "COLONEL! COLONEL REMISS!"

Remiss was sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed by the time the door slammed opened and his second in command, Lieutenant Colonel Gibson, stepped inside the room, eyes wide and tension etched in every line of their body.

"Hordes of monsters!" Gibson summarized. "We just got word from four different bases, they're attacking the Sea Folks settlements! Sir, we need to..."

"FLARE FROM THREE! HALF AN HOUR!"

The lieutenant colonel stopped and paled.

The voice had been slightly distorted, coming in from the pipes designed for precisely that purpose: someone was in the observation tower and was calling out the information. Remiss didn't need the translation but Gibson gave it anyway.

"Watch Number Three spotted the enemy. Thirty minutes away from Given."

"Don't stand there, GO!" Remiss ordered. "Get everyone ready, we move now!"

"YES SIR!"

Gibson was off running and calling the alarm without so much as taking the time to salute.

Remiss threw on uniform and armor and ran off too, towards the stables. A horde of monsters, minutes away from Given... Remiss and his troops would never make it there in less than an hour and a half, even using stamina balm on the horses, which meant the small village full of fishermen and farmers and more than likely harboring no fighter whatsoever would be on their own for an hour against the monsters.

Remiss and his men were going to be riding into the aftermath of a slaughter. He pushed the thought of what the scene would be like away from his mind. All they could do was to get there as quickly as possible and hope for survivors.

Main Island of Given, about half an hour later

The noise woke Link with a start. For one moment before his brains really processed what the noise sounded like and the fact that it was still pitch black out, he thought some people were starting to take down all the festival stuff early.

A scream pierced above the din of stomping hooves and growls and the illusion was broken. Link's worst nightmare was upon him at last: his home was under attack and it was almost certainly because of him.

He jumped out of the bed with the Master Sword in its sheath. The rest of his equipment, most notably his bow, quiver, shield and the small pouch that magically contained a bunch of other things, were in their usual spot next to his door, ready to grab.

It was tempting to just grab it all, but he knew better than to run into battle with his hands encumbered by things that could be slung on his back and hips. He immediately decided his pajama bottoms would do in terms of clothing and hurriedly slipped on his baldric and belt straight on his bare torso. He then quickly installed his quiver, bow, sword, shield and pouch in their normal positions, and finally sprinted down the stairs and out the door. The whole operation had taken about ten seconds, which felt like about ten seconds too long.

The scene outside made his blood run cold. The village was crawling with monsters, too many to bother counting and in several different varieties: Link mentally recorded bokoblins, skulltulas, moblins and even a few lynels and hinoxes in his immediate field of vision, and he could hear hissing in the distance which almost certainly signaled some lizalfos. He only noticed the keeses when one almost collided with his head.

The monsters were not an issue: monsters hadn't been a problem for years. What sent Link into a near panic was the prone form of a villager sprawled in the road, and people everywhere, some clearly injured already, being boxed in by the monsters and unable to find an exit.

Link could have quickly taken out every monster in his vicinity by using one of the three medallions that had once belonged to the Hero of Legends, but with all these people around, that wasn't an option. Neither were bomb arrows, or shock arrows, or Din's Fire.

A second look revealed that the prone form on the road was one of the members of the Council: his mother's third degree cousin, Adiri. Link took out a bottled fairy and threw it at him, counting on the magic reviving Adiri if needed and keeping him alive until better treatment arrived. He simultaneously unsheathed his sword and rushed to the nearest group of enemies, a duo of moblins stalking towards a cornered group of villagers.

He yelled to draw the monsters' attention to himself. "Part of quite the mob, aren't you mister moblins?"

It was a good thing that what you said to monsters didn't matter as long as you were making noise, because that pun was painful even to Link's own ears.

He almost sliced through both moblins in one sweep just as they turned towards him, but he violently threw himself to the side without making contact when the Master Sword came within his field of vision.

The Blade of Evil's Bane was damaged.

Link's eyes only stayed on it long enough to register what appeared to be rust, mold, maybe even some rot, and a crack. The sight sent his heart rate spiking. That wasn't possible. Was it?

He had no time to argue with what his own eyes were telling him. He sheathed the sword back carefully, jumping aside again to dodge an attack from one of the moblins. He parried the next attack with his shield, hitting the monster's sword hard enough to make the weapon fall out of its owner's grip. He rolled and seized it before the moblin could fully internalize it had lost its weapon, and decapitated both monsters in one sweep, as initially planned if not with the right blade.

Link quickly identified his next targets: six bokoblins within reach of his arrows had some villagers trapped in an impasse, and a pack of stalfos were just a few steps away from himself. Link dropped the moblin's sword at his feet, took out his bow and a handful of arrows, and fired six times in quick succession. The arrows each embedded themselves in the skulls of the six bokoblins he'd been aiming for, felling them.

Not that Link saw it happen, he had already picked his stolen sword back up and was slicing and dicing through the nearby pack of Stalfos.

His borrowed blade broke on the hide of the Lynel he took on next.

"Thick skin, uh?" Link muttered. "Won't bother to try and insult you then..."

He tossed the broken blade aside, slid between the beast's legs, jumped on its back and plunged his hand into his pouch, willing for the Megaton hammer to come to him. His hand closed on a handle and he pulled the gigantic hammer free, the small pouch letting it out without a hitch. Link slammed the hammer through the Lynel's skull and jumped off the corpse before it started to dissolve into dust.

He heard his name and something about potions from somewhere on his right and mentally scolded himself. He should have given his stock of fairies and potions to someone else while he was fighting, fairies needed to act quickly to revive the dead. His stupidity might have cost someone their life yet, and unless he wanted to risk more of the same, he couldn't dwell on it right now.

He pulled out his hammer again and tossed the pouch at the nearest conscious villager, then went back to fighting. He wasn't alone, as much as he would have preferred to be: there were half a dozen villagers also fighting, all the ones Link knew to be training with swords or spears. Link picked up the pace: the faster he could take out the monsters, the least likely his 'helpers' were to get hurt.

The sun was just rising by the time all the monsters were dead. The other fighters had helped more than Link had expected, taking out a few bokoblins and even a lizalfos between them and sustaining no worse injuries than he had himself – scratches and bruises not even worth using a potion on.

Link started frantically searching for the injured. He'd been so slow to think of giving his fairies and potions to someone else…

He tried to talk and ask. No sound came out. Now that it was all over, his nerves were threatening to give out. Even the bad jokes were dried up – he had committed at least a dozen while fighting, some bad enough to make the other fighters (not to mention himself) groan. He swallowed and tried talking again.

"Is everyone okay?"

He heard the words coming out more than he felt himself saying them. Even having to ask was painful – he had dreaded this moment so much and had tried so hard to prevent it. He had tried almost as hard, for his own sanity, to let everyone else talk him into not worrying about it, into believing that the village was safe… he would have given anything to never have a chance to say I told you so.

"No casualty," came his mother's voice. Crisp, efficient, 100% business. Link was glad these were her first words, otherwise the seriousness of her tone would have made him assume the worst.

She continued, "But we have 22 serious injuries and we're out of potions. We're not using your fairies unless necessary, YOU need them. Do you have more potion in your room?"

Link shook his head and absently grabbed for his pouch, remembering one second too late he had tossed it to someone. "Someone get me my wallet, I'll go get some. Unless there's some ready to go?" he looked around as he said this, looking for Mindo or Geeve. Geeve caught his eye and shook her head. Mindo was lying on her lap, covered in blood and seemingly unconscious.

Link clenched his jaw. Looking around had been a mistake: there were a lot of other injured villagers, many looking no better than Mindo, and his eyes stopped on a severed arm lying in the road.

"Your wallet is in here right?"

Link tore his eyes away from the arm towards the voice. One of the kids, Link was spending so little time around anyone else that he couldn't remember her name or who her parents were, had brought his pouch. Link took it, nodded a thank you and reached in for the fairy ocarina the Great Deku Tree had given him. The same one Saria, the Sage of the Forest, had once given to the Hero of Time, passed down to him thousands of years later.

He brought it to his lips and played the song that would transport him to Castle Town: there was a potion shop there that was usually opened all night. The usual shopkeeper was anti Sea Folk and was often downright reluctant to take his money, despite overcharging him all the time, but Link had no idea where else to get that many potions quickly.

As soon as Given disappeared, replaced first by the light of the transportation magic and then Castle Town, Link's imagination provided him with visions of more monsters attacking the village while he was gone. He ran to the potion shop and rushed in, all but slamming the door opened.

The clerk and witch apprentice stared at him, his eyes going up and down, taking in the fact his somewhat frequent yet undesirable customer was wearing several weapons but hadn't been bothered with a shirt or footwear. "We're low on stock," he started reciting. He stopped under the glare Link gave him.

"You know and I know that's not true, you tell me that every. Single. Time. Just so you can try and charge me more for it. I don't have time for this today. I need every red or blue potion you have, a village was attacked and people are bleeding out."

The clerk's eyes widened and he straightened out of the slump he'd been in. "What village?" he asked.

Link had been dealing with this man long enough to know that if he revealed the village in question was a refugee settlement, he'd get no help. There would hardly be any potion left, every dose that could be scrounged up would be a fortune and there would be three or four of them at best… Link made a strategic decision and lied.

"Don't know the name, a bit west of Dueling Peaks! Hurry up already!" He resisted slamming the counter for emphasis. He didn't need the witch in training to suddenly believe the Hero really was the dangerous psychopath part of Hyrule portrayed him as.

The clerk ran to the back room and came back with two crates full of bottled red and blue potions.

Link had known the low stock story was a lie, but the sheer quantity of available potions was still a shock. A quick count informed him that there were 45 bottles in each of the crates.

"I guess low on stock means you put it on the floor?" he asked testily.

There was no way he'd need all of it after all and it was possible someone else in town would desperately need some potion before the stock was replenished. He threw some gold rupees on the counter, grabbed just one of the crates and played the ocarina one handed to transport him to the Great Plateau.

It was hardly necessary by now to hide where he was going since his home had already been discovered and he hadn't taken a detour to come here, but old habits apparently died hard. He played again as soon as he arrived at the temple of time, this time headed for home.

All in all, 23 potions were used, the last one to fix a broken leg that could have been mended without it.

Link collapsed against a wall, shaking, once reassured that everyone was safe and sound. The fact that the Master Sword was damaged slammed back into his mind and he sprang back to his feet, removing the sheath from his back and unsheathing the sword as gently as he could.

It looked about the same as it had the last time he'd seen it: covered in rust, mold and rot. Right in front of Link's eyes, the crack from earlier deepened and spread to the other edge, causing the last couple of centimeters of the blade to fall off.

He picked up the broken piece and stared at it and at the rest of the blade in turn, in shock. He looked up to find his father staring too, along with several of the other villagers.

"I… it was fine when I was practicing before lunch," Link stammered. "I don't… I…"

His father was in front of him in an instant, hands on his shoulders. "I know next to nothing about the sword," he said, "nobody does except the Royal Family, and you. So take a deep breath and think. What's your next move?"

"Evacuate," Link said automatically. "We can't stay here."

"Deep breath, son. That's OUR next move. What's yours?"

Link breathed in as slowly as he could, held it for a moment, and breathed out again as slowly as he could. The answer presented itself quickly.

"The Great Deku Tree. He's been guarding it for ages. He has to know what to do when… when something happens."

His father nodded. "Good. And while you're calm enough to think, what's the next move after that? If the Great Deku Tree doesn't' know what to do after all, what's next?"

"Put it to rest and do without," Link sighed. "At least it will be sound again for the next Hero. I'll just have to hope I can figure out a way to win without it. No big deal, right?" he added jokingly, "It's not like it's the bane of evil or anything..." He took another long breath. "I don't know what's next. But I got to go. We don't know how much time I have before it's too damaged to be repaired at all. And you need to go too, I was serious. You can't stay."

"We know that. Go on, go get what you need and we'll see you off. Look around, we're already on the move too."

Link looked and nodded. Everyone was already getting carts ready and packing them with necessities. By the looks of it, the healthy had gotten started while Link was getting the potions.

He ran back towards his house and up the stairs.

Remiss's horse kept calmly walking through the village, careful step by careful step on the hilly paths, thankfully not at all in need of guidance from his rider. The Hylian Colonel was staring at the scene, eyes wide and mouth gaping, the fact that he was ON a horse all but forgotten.

He had expected the worst when they'd left the fortress, and they had received a bird minutes before they had arrived here telling of the devastation in some of the other communities. All seven had been attacked, along with the three neighborhoods in Castle Town where mostly Sea Folks tended to live. Given was the furthest from any actual help, but the others had still suffered many civilian casualties, as well as troops falling in combat before the monsters were driven off.

He had been certain that by the time they finally crossed the bridge to Given, the village would be a graveyard. He'd been bracing for it, mentally going through his training on how to get his troops – and himself - through trauma.

He'd been wrong: Given was not a graveyard, unless you were of a mind to call a staggering amount of monster dust a graveyard. The fact that everyone appeared to still be alive was an immense and unexpected relief, but he was having a hard time focusing on that, his brains instead mentally recording how many monsters must have been here.

He heard Gibson, who was riding next to him, mostly due to mental conditioning: he was the Colonel, ignoring his troops was just not an option.

"Colonel... what..." The Lieutenant Colonel trailed off.

Around them, the villagers were packing to evacuate. There wasn't a single injured person in sight, although the state of some of their clothing hinted that there had been some injuries that had since been healed with potions. There were no bodies, no wounds being treated, no signs of mourning.

But the monster dust... there were piles upon piles of it, everywhere. Remiss estimated that there had been at least two hundred monsters here, more likely three hundred. He recognized dozens of the leftover parts as having belonged to Lynels and Hinoxes, in addition to literally countless smaller monsters. All destroyed in less than an hour, with minimal injuries to the villagers. It even looked as though the battle had been over for a while by now.

Bits of conversation reached his ears. The name Link was mentioned repeatedly in phrases related to destroying monsters, or saving people, or having brought potions. There were also talks of having been found out, that more caution had been needed after all.

Remiss swallowed. Hundreds of monsters, among which dozens of particularly nasty and dangerous ones, destroyed in record time. And someone named Link had been involved, and there was a secret here that the attack might be related to. The obvious conclusion was that this specific Link was in fact the Hero, and that the villagers thought this was why they had been attacked.

Remiss knew very well that he was not technically allowed to know the Hero was from Given. The Hero's home was a closely guarded secret: Remiss hadn't known when he'd left the fortress a little less than two hours ago, and he shouldn't know now. His having found out, and presumably some of his men would figure it out too, was going to be a problem.

The concern tickled the back of his mind, but didn't weigh much compared to the spectacle in front of him. He noticed that the only voices he heard were the villagers. His troops were just as speechless as he and Gibson were.

He'd known that the Hero was good. THAT was no secret. Bu this...

The Hero was expected to be exceptional, of course. He could hardly face something like Ganon otherwise. Link would be expected to be able to handle a Lynel or a Hinox, or even a dozen moblins. But hundreds of monsters, including several lynels and hinoxes, quickly enough for the civilians to suffer barely any injuries and no casualties? This wasn't exceptional, it was inhuman. Remiss figured it would be terrifying if not for the knowledge the Hero was on their side.

He gulped. Who was he kidding? It WAS terrifying. The knowledge that the Hero was a force for good didn't banish the feeling, it just labeled it as unjustified. He could reason his way past the shock and fear, but he'd never be able to get the image of the piles and piles of dust and monster parts out of his head.

He took a deep breath and turned to Gibson.

"Lieutenant Commander. Make camp for three dozen troops who will stay behind in case there's a second wave. I need to talk to the locals."

Gibson startled, then saluted and rode off towards the bulk of the troops.

In his room, Link threw open his wardrobe and chest and started sorting for what he'd bring along – this time, it would be pretty much everything because no matter what happened with the sword, he needed to start searching for the Enemy and to confront him.

The hero's outfit was the first one he put his hands on. He was still wearing only pajama bottoms, and he was looking at a long journey where the water repellant, comfortable, magically armored fabric would almost certainly come in handy so he changed into it, cap included if only to make sure he wouldn't forget it. He stuffed several changes of clothes, underwear and an extra pair of boots in his pouch, silently thanking the King for the umpteenth time for it – it had been sent along with his latest outfit, labeled as a gift of gratitude from the Royal Family. Just how they'd procured the magical bag, which was only as big as two fists on the outside but could literally contain anything at all and allow for whatever you needed to be what you immediately closed your fingers on, he had no idea.

Once the more mundane stuff was packed, he moved on to the more unique equipment he liked to have on hand. The Megaton Hammer was already in the pouch because it pretty much always was: it took up too much space outside of it. Other larger items were in there as well – if nothing else, the pouch was a wonderful way to save space in your house. It was also great for quick packing because you could do exactly what Link was doing now – throwing everything in with no thought of order or organization – and it didn't matter: it organized itself.

A quick look inside, which activated yet another layer of magic to let him see everything the pouch contained, confirmed the mirror shield was in there, along with his iron boots, a full zora armor, his hookshot, the three goddess medallions he wouldn't be able to use without the Master Sword but which could be useful if he managed to fix the blade, all the leftover potion he'd just bought, his remaining fairies, travel food and a skin of water, the gale boomerang, a bundle of silver arrows, a fire rod and an ice rod, the fairy ocarina, and other various handy things he'd collected since he'd started training and traveling.

Not in the pouch were some of his wearables. He traded his usual gold hoops for the red earrings the Gorons had gifted him and which enabled him to withstand any heat, put on the gold gauntlets that granted him super strength, and after one last look around for anything useful, considered himself ready.

Except that is for one necessary change: he needed to be able to unsheathe and sheathe the Master Sword very gently, and he preferred not to have it in his back right now anyway, just in case something attacked him from behind: the sacred blade might not survive a direct blow at this point. He removed the sheath and sword from his back again and attached them at his right hip as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

He'd been so focused that when he rounded the stairs' corner, the sight of a Hylian Colonel sitting at the kitchen table with his parents was a complete surprise.

Link schooled his face into a neutral expression to hide his impatience: the Royal Guards were for the most part good allies, with a few localized bad batches, but whether they believed Link was the Hero or not, the soldiers all had one characteristic in common: they were almost always maddeningly time consuming.