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Focus. He launched himself forcefully, firm flesh giving way under the balls of his feet. The blade was steadfast even slick with blood. It carried through the tendons of a Bokoblins throat Swift and steady. Warm, thick blood splattered across his cheeks. He couldn’t even feel it.
Something is here.
Link hissed loudly. Baring his teeth did little, if anything, to ever stop his voices. But it sometimes made him feel a little better. Something roared. He swung. The roar went silent.
Something is here.
The monster collapsed under the weight of his sword. Gasping, heaving for air, he leaned his shaking knees against the cooling corpses scattered at his feet and tried to breathe through his frustration. He didn’t know what “something” was. It didn’t seem like any of his voices did either. They just kept repeating it, over and over, almost as if in a trance. As if something had stolen their attention and nothing could budge them from reminding him of it.
Something is here.
All it managed to do was put him on edge.
It was even worse without Zelda’s voice. The fall of the Calamity had taken her Haunting from him. She would have known what was happening. What to do. She always did. A solid anchor in a world where everything was raw and untamed and unfamiliar. Now that she had a physical body he could always go to her and ask, but it was— different. Harder. The space in his head she once occupied remained dead and empty of the emotion she filled it with. The connection they had before was one beyond verbalization. Was as simple as the wind in the grass and clouds in the sky. Outside of him, with only his shakily returning grasp of Hylian word and mannerism, communication was...
At least she was real. At least she was alive. The champions had no bodies to even search for answers.
It only made him feel worse for wasting his time ripping apart the same beasts again and again. The layers of drying monster blood on his skin did nothing to muffle their voices.
This was all he could do.
Link ripped his makeshift sword out of the monster's flesh with an ugly snarl and flung it as hard as he could. It shattered brilliantly. He didn’t feel better.
Want to fight.
Something is here.
Need to fight.
Something is here.
Have to.
Link, Urbosa said, voice startlingly clear, behind you.
Sword gone. Shield in ruins. Monster weapons in ash or pieces or both. Armor soaked brought his blood that wasn’t his, cloying and disgusting and useless.
Link turned on the Something, teeth bared and pupils dilated, and launched himself with nothing but the blood under his fingernails.
Link, wait—!
The thing yelped. It barely flung itself out of the way of his charge, paws kicking up dirt and ash. Large. Grey. Claws and teeth and strange markings. It nearly stumbled into a tree trying to face him. Eyes more white than blue— no wolf had blue eyes.
Link didn’t see it and he didn’t care. He landed half in the dirt, fingers digging into the wet soil, and lunged for the monster's throat.
He was faster than any animal. Faster than the wolves and the coyotes. Faster than the guardians. His fingers buried into thick, dark fur, and held tight. This was what he was good for. This was something that could not be changed, could not be lost. If he could not be the same— could not be a friend, could not be family, could not be a person — he could fight. He was still useful. He could still—
Link, stop! It’s not an enemy!
A wolf was nothing compared to a bokoblin. Compared to a lizalfos. Compared to a talus or a guardian or a blight. Compared to a hundred blights.
Link roared his victory and pressed until he felt bone. All it took was a little twist if he wanted to be clean. He didn’t want to be clean. He was not clean. His lips peeled back from his teeth, and the white of them reflected in wide blue eyes.
Link, something is here!
“—et off of him!”
Link grunted as something bodily slammed into him. The force of it wrenched him back, tearing his hands from the wolf. They both stumbled back. Link barked out a yell as hands clenched around wrists, trying to push his arms down to his sides. The world spun as they tripped backward and Link blindly reared forward and buried his teeth into flesh, biting down until the thing screamed and let go. His back thumped against one of the fallen bodies. He was on his feet before he was even breathing.
Sunlight glinted off of drawn swords and shields. Seven Hylian faces watched him warily.
He froze.
Sound slammed back into Link harder than the ground had. The champions were all yelling. How long had they been yelling? Link, not an enemy! Daruk's voice registered. His ears twitched, pulling down as the frantic tone in the ghost's voice hit him. They're just people, just Hylians, stand down buddy!
Just people. Just Hylians. Not moblins, or bokoblins, or even disguised Yiga. He had attacked normal travelers. The people he was supposed to protect.
Thank Hylia, he vaguely heard Revali sigh. What a mess.
The one thing he had left to do, his last duty, and he fucked it up.
Shame boiled hot and rancid down the back of his neck.
Link scrambled backward before he even began breathing again. The travelers all raised their swords but didn't move, watching as he tripped over scattered bodies until his back hit rough bark. Mipha's worried little Link? Are you okay? Buried under the roaring in his ears. Anything else they said vanished into white static and his own heartbeat.
They still weren't moving. Weapons still drawn. Still pointed at him. Hylian people, with Hylian weaponry, and they felt they had to use them against him–– and Link couldn't blame them for it. His throat closed. Sorry , he signed frantically. It was one of the few signs he retained, those nights alone in the ruined castle with Zelda–– Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. No fight.
The man in front (scarred eye, broad shoulders. Taller than him. Would be troublesome if he was going to fight him. Didn't want to fight him) lowered his sword a tiny increment. His thin pressed lips parted.
Link didn't catch anything he might have said. It was just noise. It was all noise. The champions all blended into one ceaseless, drilling noise.
The Hylian, short, dressed in the near blue of a guardian's blade, stepped forward, his hand cautiously outstretched.
Link snarled before he could even think better of it. It was wrong. He wasn't supposed to threaten normal people–– was supposed to keep them safe. That was all he was supposed to do. But even a step closer was too much. He bared his teeth, chest tightening further when none of them stepped back. It hurt. His head was starting to feel light. He twisted his fingers into his shirt, digging his nails into the flesh over his heart.
It didn't even make him feel better. The strangers stepped closer and the bark pressed harder into his back. Revali's gale wasn't responding to him. None of the champions were, beyond the endless yelling in his head. Were they even talking to him anymore, or each other?
Their lips moved and he heard none of it. Why did they keep moving closer? You never approached cornered animals–– even if he was Hylian, was another person, anyone would know better than to come so close to someone panicking. You never knew who was filled with Malice. Even the people he was meant to protect could become infected with enough exposure.
The yelling in his head overlapped with the yelling outside his head, overlapped with the wind in the trees and the storm in the distance and his own harsh breath whistling past clenched teeth.
You never turn your back on an enemy.
Link didn't even know if they were one. He whipped around and ran as fast as he could.
He couldn't hear over his heartbeat if they bothered to give chase. By the time he had made it through the trees and over the edge of a cliffside, they were too far away for it to matter.
The climb was just long and hard enough to drain what energy he had to panic and the sound around him slowly began to register again. Breath quieting, he stood and just stared at the sky for a moment. Clear and undisturbed blues. Clouds far in the distance, wind in his sweaty, bloodied hair. The champions’ voices filtered from static into noises, into vowels, into words.
––ink! Link! What were you thinking?!
He winced.
It didn't stop the champions. Even all speaking at once, their scolding tone was easy to hear. It made his face burn with shame even trying not to listen. Hearing them all–– Mipha's nervous whispers, Urbosa's disapproval, Daruk's confused worry, even Revali's scorn–– it just made him press his shoulders even closer to his ears.
It didn't help that the more he calmed down the more he registered the still-drying blood very much soaked into everything he was wearing. He half-heartedly trudged towards the closest lake on the slate, deftly ignoring the champions. In his frantic climb, he was somewhere in Upland Zorana, so he doubted he'd even need to do much more than picking a direction and start walking if he wanted to find a pool.
The Champions had only just fallen a degree quieter by the time he was knee-deep in Toto lake.
They had all realized pretty early on that he wasn't really listening. Still, Link could hear Revali grumbling to himself when he pried his shirt off his skin, wincing as the dried blood pulled at old scabs and scar tissue. The clothes would be fine back in the slate. Nothing ever came out dirtied in the technology. Zelda had given up trying to explain it after the first two hours, but he knew all he needed to know. In they went, vanishing into blue light. And leaving him in his equally stiff and sticky boxers.
He waded further into the lake. The water was cold.
Link?
His ear twitched. The blood wasn't coming off. It had all mostly dried around and was stuck to his skin, flaking uncomfortably under his nails.
Link, please. We need to talk about what just happened.
A hoarse whine forced out of his throat. He scrubbed a little harder.
Link, Mipha said quietly, You know I'm not mad at you. It's okay. You're okay. He ducked his head under the water, futilely trying to rub dried blood off his face. It pulled where it had caked thickly into his hair. He came back up, shivering and dripping wet, and just breathed. Feel better?
"Feel better," Link rasped out. His voice snagged as if his throat was lined with thorns, but it was out. "Yes. Feel better. Okay."
A phantom touch of cool fingers, gentle and soft on his wet arms. He shoved down the urge to reach out and touch it. There was never anything there to touch but himself.
As if she could sense it (she could. He had no doubt of it.) the feeling withdrew from him. A lump built in his throat, painful and thick, but she didn't come back. He shook himself off roughly, water flying everywhere, and plopped down in the cold water to continue scrubbing blood off his skin.
Those were not normal people, Mipha continued gently. Strangers to this land. Not from here. He huffed, nodding to himself, and she continued on with only a ghostly pat of his arm in apology. I think they needed to talk to you. You should find them.
He huffed again, a little rougher, and shook his head.
There is no shame in it, Link.
But there was. So much of it. It still boiled hot and painful under his skin, like a rash that wouldn't go away. It burned even under the frigid waters of the lake.
No, listen to me. Her voice was uncharacteristically firm. You said sorry. There is little else to do–– I'm sure they know it was a mistake. You should find them.
He didn't want to.
Goddamn it, Revali spoke up, groaning, Just do it! What's stopping you?!
Revali...
No, I'm tired of this. What are they even gonna do, yell at him? We can't even yell at him! He should just go get it over with and get whatever it is done, and we can all go back to killing whatever is left.
He speaks some truth, brother, Daruk piped up. Link shook his head a little harder. The water running off the tips of his hair was finally running clear instead of pink. He watched it drip into the lake instead of looking up and twitched at the phantom squeeze of his shoulder. Not to be a bother, Link. I just agree, a little.
Static shock buzzed up through his fingertips, sparking and bright. Link carefully edged further out of the water just in case. It's not important what we agree on, Urbosa said firmly. We don't know who those people are. I don't sense any malice on them, but perhaps Zelda would be better to ask first.
The thought of Zelda twisted something warm and uncomfortable in Link. Like too much of a good food, hearty but overwhelming.
Princess Zelda remained in Hateno, most likely. Just a teleport away, finessing out a plan for the future among the research and rubble with Purah. His assignment and friend.
She likely would know what to do. She always seemed to. But could she actually explain it to him?
His stomach continued to twist. Link stepped out of the water, chattering, and wondered how long he had been standing there.
Either way, he has to find them again, Urbosa said with finality.
Link shivered not entirely from the cold.