Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The early morning cast a sharp, golden relief over a fortress in the desert. Outside, its sandstone walls stood solid and impenetrable, almost unworthy of notice, particularly in light of the great stone pillars looming behind. Peachy dawn caught diamond-like on the waterfalls cascading from towers reaching skyward in prayer to seven goddesses, in stark contrast with the smooth walls surrounding them.

Beyond the plain walls, beyond the armoured and armed guards barring the gates, lay an oasis unlike any other. Those who travelled in the desert often praised Kara Kara Bazaar for its cool waters and lovely shade, but the Bazaar was but a shadow of the city that lay beyond.

Gerudo Town woke as the sun brushed its roofs with feather-light fingers, bathing night-cooled streets in brilliance and colour. A warming breeze danced along the pavestones, tugging playfully at beautifully dyed and embroidered tapestries and banners and overhangs and merchants’ tents, drawing tiny dust devils into the city before letting them fall back to sand. The world was yet silent, still cool and sleepy and full of dreams.

But those who lived in the desert knew far better than to sleep while the world was cool.

All at once, it seemed, the city burst into life. It started inside at first, with her people rising from cozy beds and facing the last chills of night to start their days before the sun cooked sand and stone and made labour difficult. Sooner or later, though, as it always did, the quiet bustle broke as the Gerudo spilled onto their streets. In the great plaza, in the shade of the ancient palace, merchants laid out their wares: hydromelon and voltfruit, slabs of meat, and today - oh, what a treat! - ice fruit from Hebra in the north. In the next stall, a stock of weapons to make a warrior’s heart skip. Next to that, the jeweller’s apprentice arranged gems that sparked and glittered like lightning and fire and the sun on waves while the master herself made plans for a grand new project in her nearby studio.

In a courtyard near the palace, warriors trained under the sharp eye of Captain Teake. The good captain snapped orders with a particular kind of glee as she sipped her morning coffee, which none of the recruits were allowed until they had performed a hundred drills. Rigorous, yes, but they had to be ready in case of attack by any variety of foe.

Though… it had been a very long time since any true threat had arisen. After living so many years in the shadow of doubt and the threat of Calamity, all of Gerudo - the Town, the desert, the Bazaar, the canyon, the Highlands all - had come into a golden age of peace. How could it not, when victory had been so hard won? How could it not, when their heroes stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them in the desert sun, and the shadow of Vah Naboris fell over their enemies like a shroud? There were still monsters, of course, but they grew fewer and fewer by the year, fading into history like their dark master. The Yiga had vanished practically without a trace. Several expeditions had taken place into their wretched little hideout in the cliffs, but each raiding party had come back with nothing but tales of a ghost town. Perhaps they had finally come to grips with the fact that Demise was gone and their precious Demon King would never again rise in Hyrule.

It had been seven years since the moon turned red and Demise rose from his Breach. Seven years since their king returned to them covered in scars and full of guilt. Two since the rebuilding of Hyrule. One since the wedding of Princess Zelda and her beloved knight. Seven years of good luck, and not a single vai in Gerudo Town wished for change.

Golden light crept higher and higher over the walls, spilling into every crack and crevice of Gerudo Town and casting away the chill of night. The market was bustling, the gate guards already sighing as the same pair of overly-persistent Hylian voe came into sight on the path from the Bazaar (“By the Seven! Do they not speak Hylian? Perhaps they are bokoblins in disguise?”) but one presence had yet to make itself known.

Normally, by this early hour, Ganon was already awake, mulling over the day’s tasks over a hearty breakfast with Urbosa and Riju. A king’s day started early and ended late, though it was a pleasant tradition for the three of them to start and end their days together, often with Buliara and Teake and sometimes Lura joining them in the evenings. There was so much to be done, though his people prided themselves on needing so little. They had done beautifully long before his arrival and would continue to do so long after his death, but what else could he do? The guilt no longer ate at him as it had, but he worked as if it did.

But this morning, Ganon was not at the breakfast table. In fact, he was nowhere to be found. Not in the throne room or the courtyards. Not in the marketplace, or walking the perimeter of the city’s walls - Riju would have been able to see him from the grand staircase if he was. Curious, she climbed the stairs to her brother’s room, pausing only briefly to speak with the guard on duty.

“Ganon hasn’t come down yet this morning, has he?”

“No, Lady Riju, not yet.”

“And you were on guard all night? He didn’t leave?”

“Unless he jumped out the back window, he is still there.”

Riju hummed softly and shrugged. “Thank you.”

This was unlike him. Was he still abed when he would normally have planned half his day by now?

The room beyond the silk curtains was dim, no lights breaking the gentle stillness. This far above the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, the king’s chambers lay quiet, with only the unending ripple of the fountain spring and its lovely waterfalls to break the silence, and the soft huff of his breathing. Riju trotted over to the site of the great bed and rapped her knuckles on the side table to get his attention.

“Ganon? Are you still asleep?”

Behind the loose curtains surrounding the bed, Ganon dreamed. Such strange dreams, drifting and aimless, but urgent, too. He mumbled something under his breath and shifted a fraction in his sleep as Riju tentatively pulled the curtain aside and peered in at him.

“Oh, you lazybones!” She threw the curtains aside and sat heavily on the bed, jarring the mattress and startling him awake.

“Hnh– wh– Ow! Riju–!” he grabbed her wrist to cease her rapidfire swatting of his cheek and fixed her with a bleary golden glare. “Care to tell me why you’re in my room so early?”

“Early?” She scoffed a little laugh and grinned at him impishly. “It’s late, brother-mine. The sun is up and the marketplace is warming quickly. You’re going to be late.”

He sighed and let her go as he slowly hauled himself upright, sitting for a moment and rubbing his face with one hand. “Late for what, precisely?”

“For Lura! You promised her, remember?” She swatted his arm, then tweaked his ear. “You are not allowed to blow off our finest artisan just for a little beauty sleep! She’ll be so upset!”

“Alright, alright… shoo. I’m up. Let me get ready.”

“You have ten minutes!”

“You nervy little– Why don’t you let Lura warm up on you?” He called after her as she laughed and scampered back out into the morning light. As she passed through the curtains covering his door, the quality and angle of the light surprised him. She wasn’t lying - he really had slept in.

Ganon pushed himself out of bed and slouched through cleaning up and making himself presentable - even his realisation of the hour couldn’t make him move any faster than his body demanded. The face that stared back at him in the mirror looked practically haggard, and his dreams weighed on his mind. What were they? He was used to not remembering his dreams (ever since he was a child, he had rarely remembered come waking) but he also didn’t wake up knowing he had had them anymore. The last dreams he had had that had haunted his mind after waking were over seven years ago now. He shuddered, then shook his head and splashed cold water on his face.

No sense dwelling on the past. He was late.

When he joined his family downstairs, Riju perched on a low wall near the table while Urbosa sat comfortably before the remains of her breakfast, sipping coffee. She looked at him with surprise as he poured himself a mug of his own and squeezed half a voltfruit into it rather than finding breakfast.

“My… you certainly slept in. Sav’otta.”

He grunted in the affirmative. “Sav’otta. Might have slept later if our favourite little bokoblin didn’t disturb me.”

Urbosa’s green eyes narrowed slightly as she watched him over the rim of her mug.

“You’re welcome!” Riju grinned.

“Are you feeling alright?” Urbosa asked.

“Fine. Just a little extra tired is all. Has anyone heard from Lura yet?”

“She should be here any minute. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

He shrugged. “I’m fine. Besides…” he grinned wryly and toasted Riju with his mug. “The bokoblin is excited to watch, I think, and how could I disappoint her and Lura?”

Urbosa glanced between the two of them, then laughed. “Fair point. Alright, but eat something first.”

“I’m fi–”

“That’s not a request. Even kings need to eat.”

“Yes, Auntie.”

“Don’t you ‘yes, Auntie’ me - eat!”

“Riju, help, she’s being mean to me.”

Riju, grinning like a cat with a whole salmon to itself, just shrugged. “You’re on your own.”

“You too, young lady - I didn’t see you eat anything substantial.”

“Hydromelon is perfectly–! Ganon, tell her!”

He just grinned. “You’re on your own.”

✧☽☼☾✧

Lura had, of course, chosen the throne room for her masterwork. She had first met King Ganon when he was newly come home from what some whispered was an exile in Hyrule, when he was but a shy, gentle youth. He had dressed in heavy Hylian fabrics then, and sweltered in the desert sun until she and Urbosa had convinced him it was far better for his health to follow the fashions of his own people instead. They knew best, of course, when it came to the blazing sun and blistering sand. Still, it took months to convince him to relax, and longer still to get him to show any skin. Buliara frequently teased Lura that while most Gerudo wore piercings proudly and many bore tattoos, the master artist of the craft could not convince their king to follow suit.

“The master fails her greatest challenge!” Buliara was all too eager to proclaim. “I’ll give you a red rupee if you ever manage it.”

Lura set up her tools next to the throne with a smug smile on her face. She should have bet Buliara a purple.

Ganon emerged just as Lura had finished setting up and blinked as he saw where she was preparing herself.

“Sav’otta, my king!” Lura crowed. “A lovely day to turn you into art, isn’t it?”

“You want to tattoo me on the throne?” He asked.

“Of course! Where better? You can even conduct business if you need to! Come, sit, sit!”

Ganon sighed, then shook his head with a chuckle. “Lura, you truly are something else…”

“Yes - something spectacular! Now…” She flipped open her most comfortable folding stool and squinted at his shoulder as he settled on the throne. “Are you still happy with the design we chose?”

“Mmh. Certainly.”

“Excellent! Then relax, your majesty - we begin!”

It wasn’t a particularly quick process. Riju, as interested as she had seemed, came to watch over Lura’s shoulder as she bored into Ganon’s skin with thin wooden rods tipped with miniscule needles.

“How is it?” Riju asked. “Comfortable?”

Ganon snorted and did his best not to jostle Lura’s tiny, inky weapon. “Not particularly.” But he had had worse, and they both knew it. As Riju watched, Lura filled an old scar, razor thin and pale, with ink. A lethally sharp blade had made that mark and many others littering his body. A blade blessed by Hylia herself, made thousands of years before any of them had been born. Ganon was surprised to find it was rather bittersweet to watch Lura hide it.

“But the results will be worth it!” Lura insisted. “Now relax or it’s your own fault if I muck it up.”

✧☽☼☾✧

Just outside Castle Town’s sprawling walls, a monstrosity had been built. Or, depending on who you talked to, a technological marvel. Reaching as tall as the ancient Sheikah Towers, this behemoth stretched skyward with a series of artfully crafted drapes and lanterns decorating its column. It sat on a wooden platform beneath which… well, Link wasn’t sure exactly what that was, but it was roped off with heavy netting so no one could mess with it. Huge spotlights radiated up from the tower’s base, even though it was the middle of the day.

Standing at the base of the stairs, he looked up at the tower, then back to the grinning scientists on the platform just above him. He looked at the tower, then back to them. Once more, for good measure.

“For someone so brave, he certainly is hesitating,” Vaati said. “You fought the god of evil himself and you won’t try this?” He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head. “Shame.”

“Why don’t you try it first?” Link shot back, hands flickering in sarcastic sign. “Your whole thing is wind. Or are you a gentle gust wizard?”

Vaati inspected his nails smugly. “Without my Mage’s Cap, that is far too much magic. I’d splatter just the same as anyone else. You and that paraglider, though…”

“Perhaps we should run some more tests?” Zelda asked, smile faltering. “I know we were sure, but… Well… Maybe Link is right. It’s still so experimental…”

Purah tapped her fan against Zelda’s forehead, then smacked it into her own palm. “Everything is experimental until we gather data. We didn’t get the Guardians working without a few failures, either.”

“Can I not be a failure, please?” Link asked. “I like my legs a lot.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, Linky!” Purah cried. “I have the utmost faith in our work - you’re gonna be fine! All you need to do is come up here and stand on that platform inside.”

Link considered it. Purah and Vaati had run him through the process and Zelda had gone over and over what to expect, to the point that he thought she might be more nervous about this than he was. If he was being honest with himself, the whole concept was thrilling: to be launched into the air by what amounted to a giant cannon sounded amazing… the problem was that so much could go wrong.

“Are you absolutely sure this thing is safe?” He asked.

“No,” Purah said brightly. “But that’s where your spirit of adventure comes in! Come on, Linky - don’t you wanna see what’s up above the clouds?”

That got him. Yes. Yes, he really, really wanted to see the world above the clouds. Legends of past Heroes claimed that one of his predecessors came from an island in the sky - wouldn’t it be incredible to see the world as he saw it?

Link braced himself and trotted up the stairs. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

Purah squealed with delight and Vaati whipped out a notebook. Zelda, by contrast, gripped Link’s hand and squeezed. “Are you sure? You don’t have to…”

“I’ll be ok,” Link signed, a little awkwardly with only one hand. “Purah’s right - I have my glider, and you all know what you’re doing. Besides, we need that map, right?”

“We do… but I need you more.”

Link melted and he leaned in to kiss her gently. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes. See you when I get back.”

His heart beat staccato within his chest as he stepped onto the circular platform inside the Tower. Purah handed him a sleek little device similar to their old Sheikah Slate.

“Take good care of that,” she told him. “It’s durable, but not “falling from cloud-height” durable, got it? When you’re up there, it’ll start scanning automatically. As soon as the light goes out, open your paraglider.”

Link nodded. “Got it. … So… now what?”

Purah smiled broadly, snatched the Pad back, and trotted off the platform. “Now you go!” She tapped the Pad to a glowing panel and tossed it back to him while he stared in utter bewilderment. What did she–?

Before he could finish his thought, the arms of Guardians shot up from under the platform, manhandling him and the Purah Pad as they hitched him to the Tower’s guidance system. Before he had a chance to process any of it, the Tower was rumbling, shaking like a tremor on Death Mountain, and then his knees nearly buckled as the platform shot skyward. He didn’t even have time to gasp before it had flung him into the air, straight as an arrow into the blue. The wind clawed at his face and his eyes watered painfully before he could think to close them. He tore through a passing cloud and came out the other side damp and cold. The world - the sky - rushed by all around, and then he stopped. For an instant, he was hovering in the endless blue, surrounded by cotton ball clouds and the smells of winter and rain. His heart stopped, but not from fear.

Oh… it’s beautiful up here.

He barely regained his wits enough to watch the Purah Pad come to life, scanning the ground below, then dimming. He quickly disconnected its cable, which shot back into the tower like lightning, stowed the Pad in a secure pocket, and unfurled his glider. His arms jerked and trembled a little as the air caught the fabric and jolted him, but it was fine. He could drift up here for a while before starting his descent. He wouldn’t want the wind to drag him too far off course, but what was the harm in staying up here where it was so beautiful and serene? In the distance - over Faron, he thought - a dark smudge on the horizon spoke of a thunderstorm. Death Mountain belched smoke into the air. Zora’s Domain glittered faintly. From here, he could see all four Divine Beasts, still glowing fiercely blue, still on guard for an attack that, Hylia willing, would never come.

Link sighed softly as he looked around, then blinked at a shadow not so far away, hidden in a tower of clouds. What was that…? He squinted.

A jolt ran through him like lightning, like the sound of breaking glass, and his heart skipped almost painfully. He nearly let go of his glider in shock.

What was that…?

The clouds cleared and, even as he tried to parse the strange shock in the clear sky, he realised what he was looking at was a floating island. Vast and mighty, but crumbling, too, as though time was eating away at its boundaries. Link tried to angle his glider towards it, but the wind picked up and suddenly he was being dragged away from Hyrule Field, in the direction of Castle Town. Before he could get too far off course, he closed his glider and let himself fall and fall and fall. The wind tore at him again and his eyes blurred. As he dropped, he thought he saw a flash of red over the floating island.

He snapped the glider back open a little way above the Tower and turned it back in safer air to swoop down to where the group below was running towards him, Zelda in the lead. Another figure had joined them, but he couldn’t tell who it was with his eyes so full of wind-born tears. He landed gracefully and ran off the last of his momentum for a few steps, only to be knocked back again as Zelda flung herself into his arms.

“You’re ok! Oh, thank Hylia you’re ok!” For a moment, she clung to him like she never wanted to let go again. Then she grabbed his shoulders and held him at arm’s length. “Tell me everything!”

Link just stared for a moment, then smiled weakly and spoke with shaking hands.

“You’re not gonna believe this…”

✧☽☼☾✧

The day grew later and later, and the sun moved in a great, sweeping arc across the sky. As it turned out, Lura had been correct - despite the natural awkwardness of the situation, Ganon had been able to perform a handful of duties from the throne as she worked, and those who approached seemed amused by the novelty of the situation. Nothing like the levity of their king being repeatedly stabbed to break the petty tension between two fabric artists squabbling over the use of a particular shade of violet dye.

But eventually Lura was done. The sun had dipped behind the great plateau of the Highlands and cast the desert into a dusty blue dusk. Gerudo Town was still alive, now trading the brilliance and heat of day for golden lanterns and lit hearths to ward off the icy night, and her people laughing over shared meals and drinks. Somewhere nearby, children laughed as they kicked a leather ball around, and in the distance a sand-seal barked.

Lura leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction and admired her work. Upon her king’s shoulder, she had etched a permanent Gerudo crest, mask-like and fierce, ornamented as befit his rank.

“There - it is done!” She crowed, startling him out of idle musings. “Don’t move, I’ll fetch you a mirror.” By which, of course, she meant she would yell off the nearby balcony for a practising cadet to come in from the courtyard and fetch a mirror. The cadet, despite a bit of huffing and an attempted excuse or two, did eventually follow Lura’s command and returned with a relatively large hand mirror.

“Now hold it here…” Lura guided the girl’s hands until she held it just so, giving Ganon a proper look at his rather traumatised shoulder and its new adornments.

The tattoo, dark and angry red, would eventually heal and settle, but for now it was sharp against his skin. He already knew it was just as it should be - Lura was called the best for a reason, after all - but still he took a moment to appreciate her mastery. He had not grown up in the desert, as he should have, but that crest was still as familiar as the faces of his family. It spoke of their history, their past, their–

In the distance, a sound of shattering glass. A buzzing picked up at the back of his skull, adrenaline like lightning pulsing through his veins, then faded as quickly as it began. Ganon looked around for the source, but found nothing. “That sounded bad…” he chuckled.

“What did, my king?” Lura asked. She frowned faintly and looked around. The cadet mirrored her.

“The glass. Something broke.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Lura replied. Before Ganon could elaborate, she was guiding the cadet out of the way. “You stay. I’ll need you again in a moment.” She grinned broadly at Ganon and held up a hollow needle and a gold hoop. “Last things last - you will shine like the sun at the next gala!”

Ganon blinked, then laughed, the sound and sensation forgotten. “You are truly relentless… Haven’t you had enough fun stabbing me for one day?”

“Not in the slightest.” She lined the needle up against his ear. “Don’t move.”

Chapter Text

Link couldn’t shake off the feeling he had experienced up in the clouds.  He had never been struck by lightning, but that sensation was as close as he thought he might ever get.  Maybe Hylians just weren’t supposed to get that high in the air?  But there were islands up there, and their ancient ancestors were said to have come from sky islands… So why had he felt a shock?  Maybe Hylians had forsaken some part of themselves that allowed them to remain that high when they had left?  

And unrelated, what was the red thing he had seen over the island?  He wracked his memory for any detail he might initially have overlooked, but retrieved nothing.

Nothing except the tiniest glimmer of gold in the far distance.  The sky, it seemed, was full of mysteries.

“Link?  Are you alright?”  He wasn’t sure when Zelda had approached, but now one of her hands held his and the other cupped his cheek.  The one wearing his ring, he noted.  Goddess, the joy that still brought.  A whole year and it was like they had been married only yesterday.  The thought of a whole life with her made him weak in the knees.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” he signed with a grin, making her blush and laugh.  

“Liar.  Come here if you won’t tell me.  We’ve got the map working.”

He followed her to the lab table where Purah stood surrounded by her posse of researchers.  As ever, Robbie had some hare-brained theory (something about using Vah Medoh as a mobile sky lab, this time), and he seemed to have dragged in a young apprentice of his own.  Next to Robbie, shaking his head with a mixture of exasperation and amusement, was Cime, Zelda’s long-time friend and Hyrule’s Court Poet.  Vaati perched on the edge of the table, leaning on one hand as he peered at the glowing map before them.  

“You’re not going to convince Revali,” Cime was saying.  “Perhaps we just drop it now?”

“Ohh, you’re not thinking of the possibilities!  Revali’ll get it - we could get right up close to the islands on Medoh’s back!  It’s brilliant!”

“Mmh… I’m not sure Medoh can even get that high…  Vaati, what do you think?”

Vaati didn’t even bother looking up from the map.  “I think Revali would push you off the Rito village spire for asking such a stupid question.”

“Huh??”  Robbie took half a step back, utterly shocked.  “That– you–  Josha, back me up!”

The girl at his side pushed her glasses up her nose.  “Theoretically speaking, if Vah Medoh could reach those heights, it would make an excellent mobile sky lab.”

“Hah!  See!  Thank you, Josha–!”

“... But I agree with Cime.  Vah Medoh was not designed for high altitude flight and likely could not rise high enough to be of use.”

Robbie deflated like a sail robbed of wind and slumped over the table.  “Betrayed by my own assistant…”

“Right!  Enough of this!”  Purah slapped her fan into her palm.  “Linky, help us out.  The Purah Pad got a lot of good data, but only for the ground.  Look at this.”  She pressed a button on the Pad and what had been an impressively detailed relief of Hyrule Field turned pale blue and blank.  “This is the sky region.  You saw an island, yes?  So where was it?”

Link frowned at the misty screen, then at Purah.  “I thought you wanted me to map the ground.  Why would the Pad get anything from the air?”

“We had hoped to find evidence of the sky islands of legend,” Zelda explained, speaking over Robbie’s exasperated groan.  “The Purah Pad is programmed to pick up both the topography and whatever it finds in the sky.  Do you see?”

“It’s a remarkable piece of technology,” Cime mused.  “I can only imagine what we might discover up there, but we have to find the islands first.”

“Yet again, I save all your bacon,” Vaati grinned.  

“Whaddya mean, Gusty?” Purah asked.

Vaati’s grin vanished, replaced by an irritated scowl.  “I told you not to call me–  Ugh.  Whatever.”  He cleared his throat and continued.  “My people have long been aware of the existence of the sky islands.  Few of us have ever travelled there - why would we bother? - but it was, once upon a time, Hylia’s own domain.”

His grin slowly returned, smug and self-assured, as all of them stared at him.

“You mean to tell me,” Purah said slowly.  “That you knew that what we were looking for was up there the whole time and you never said anything??” 

“I like watching you figure these things out,” Vaati replied.

Silence fell over the room.  For a moment, no one knew what to say, then a strange noise broke the moment.  Link looked around, half wondering if a bokoblin had somehow found its way past the guards and into the research lab, but as his eyes fell on Cime, he realised the normally-composed Court Poet was smothering laughter.  The sight of the Sheikah, red in the face, one hand pressed over his mouth, shaking with constrained mirth, sent Link into a fit of laughter, too, and soon enough they were all laughing, even Vaati.

“I don’t have all the answers,” Vaati finally admitted, wiping a tear from his eye as they all caught their breath.  “But I can give you a rough idea of where a few islands are.  Shall I?”

“Please do, Vaati,” Zelda replied, leaning on Link for support as she had laughed her legs to jelly.  “Start with the one Link saw, if you can…”

Josha darted off to fetch a paper map to act as backup.  Link watched her go, and as she moved, the red accents of her outfit stood out sharply against the creamy grey majority and he blinked.  He reached out to Vaati and gently swatted his arm to get his attention.  The violet sorcerer raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“What else do you know about sky islands?”  Link asked.  His hands moved rapidly, urgently enough that Zelda couldn’t help but notice.

“Link?”  She asked.

“I saw something up there,” he continued.  “Something red over the island.  Do you know what it could have been?”

Probably a high-flying monster, he assumed.  If Hylia’s territory was made of land, sea, and sky, and the land and sea were both full of Demise’s monsters, it only made sense that the demon god would have left his mark on the sky, too.  Link was likely very lucky that whatever it was didn’t see him, but it would be prudent to find out what it was so he could prepare to fight it the next time he launched.  There would be a next time, after all.  He had tasted the wintery air above the clouds - there was no going back from an experience like that.

Vaati pondered his question as Josha laid out the map she had found.  

“Something red?”  Zelda asked.  “I can’t think of any bird that colour that can fly that high… Purah?  Cime?”

Purah shook her head and glanced at Robbie, who shrugged.  Cime thought hard, knuckles pressed to his lips for a moment, then his red eyes widened and his head snapped up.

“It couldn’t be a–”

“Crimson Loftwing,” Vaati finished.  “Very rare, but native to that altitude.  Unless there’s something new up there…”

“A Loftwing?”  Zelda exclaimed.  “But those were– I mean–  Vaati, you must be mistaken.  Loftwings haven’t been seen in Hyrule since before the Calamity!  They died out thousands of years ago, assuming they were ever real at all.”

“Zelda, my dear…”  Vaati gave her a mildly pitying smile.  “I’m not supposed to be real either, remember?  Of course Loftwings are real.” 

Cime leaned over the table, practically over top of Vaati as he fixed Link with the most intense stare Link had ever experienced from someone or something who didn’t want to kill him.  “Link,” the Poet demanded.  “You have to go back up there, get to that island, and fetch proof.  Take the Sheikah Slate.  I need photos immediately.”

Link nodded eagerly.  “Absolutely!  When can we launch??”

“When I’ve checked your glider for damage and not a moment sooner,” Zelda grimaced.  “I want to know as much as the rest of you, but I think we can all agree it’s more important that Link stays safe.”

A sigh went up around the table but Purah nodded.  “Agreed,” she said.  “But I do have an idea for that, if you’ll indulge me.  I’ll show you later.  Now, Vaati, you have a map.  Show us the islands.” 

✧☽☼☾✧

Ganon paced slowly around the training yard, twin scimitars in hand, facing two of his soldiers under the watchful eyes of both Teake and Buliara.  Both of them insisted they were there to ensure the safety and technique of their warriors, but it was both obvious and unspoken that they wanted to keep an eye on their king, too.  The thought almost made him chuckle.  After everything, and after all these years, they were still so worried he would end up with a few scuffs and scratches, perhaps a few more scars for his collection.  

Their fear stood in amusing contrast to the warriors they had pitted against him.

Both of his opponents led squadrons that frequently fought electric lizalfos in the desert.  Both were highly skilled in combat and worthy opponents.  They circled each other slowly, he with his blades, they each with a spear, one with a shield and the other with a thick-cabled net.  He would have to keep an eye on the latter, he thought.  That net looked as though it was the kind they used to subdue both lizalfos and large prey.  He knew well how tough they were to break, designed to withstand powerful physical and magical attacks.  In this case, he was the large prey.

Finally, the vai with the shield lunged, striking at him with her spear and a battle cry meant to distract and intimidate.  He batted her weapon aside with a flick of one scimitar and dodged a similar attack from the second.  As a unit, they moved again, striking at a distance, letting him parry their blades… and separating, he realised.  The sly creatures were trying to surround him.

Ganon glanced between them and began to back out of their circle, only to find that they easily surrounded him again, just as they would a monster.  He grinned.  

“Ah, I see,” he murmured.  “So no games, then.”

Without warning, he lunged at the vai before him, parrying another thrust and this time cutting straight through the pole.  She cried out in shock and frustration and threw up her shield to block his next blow.  He struck again and again, weakening her shield arm under an unrelenting barrage.  In moments, she dropped her shield as well, and the tip of his blade came to rest under her chin.

He turned to face the other warrior, leaving his sword where it threatened, and grinned.

“Well?  Will you continue, or will you yie–”  

Golden eyes widened as his world was sliced into diamonds lined with thick cables.  She had thrown the net.  By the Seven, she had thrown the net at her prey and her partner alike!

The shock was enough to distract him while the defeated warrior sprang out of the way, and the net clattered over him with a raucous rattle.  The thick cables were even heavier than they looked, and the ends weighted by… stones?  What were those?

He would inspect the net when he was free of it.  It was certainly heavy for a training piece.  Well -made.  For now, he had but one challenge: freedom.  The weight of the ropes was barely a hindrance as he lifted his blades again and attempted to cut his way through.  He heard a cry of warning - though whether from one of his opponents or the watching captains, he wasn’t sure - and then he was freezing.  Not figuratively, not simply cold, but truly freezing.  Cold raced along his arms, up his legs, quickly thickening from frost to ice, and it took only seconds to completely immobilise him.

He didn’t have time to think much about it at all before his whole world was consumed in blue and white.  Someone yelled again. Several someones, perhaps.  He couldn’t hear them anymore.  He couldn’t see.  Couldn’t think.  Couldn’t breathe.  So… this was how the lizalfos in the desert died.

It was silent in his tomb of ice.  Silent as the grave.  He had never known silence quite like it.  He was aware of his own heartbeat, racing for a moment, then slowing, slowing, dying.  He didn’t want to die like this.  Not after everything he had been through, the suffering he had experienced and caused.  His very birth had cursed all of Hyrule to the threat of an age of darkness, but he had been dragged back from the brink, scarred and ragged and ready to redeem himself.  All of that… only to die in a training accident?  It didn’t seem fair.  It wasn’t fair!  Not like this!

Heat pooled in his chest, in his blood.  Energy, raw and pure and golden hot.  It seared his veins, flooded his lungs with fire.  He let it go.

There was a flash of golden light, and his cocoon shattered, shards spraying in all directions as if thrown.  He collapsed, coughing violently as he gasped for air, and felt two pairs of hands helping him sit up seconds later.  Where had the net gone?  He thought he heard one of his swords being kicked to the side.

“My chief, look at me–!”  he managed to lift his head and found Buliara supporting him on one side, Teake on the other, while his opponents all but cowered a short distance away.  He couldn’t blame them, after a stunt like that.  

Buliara caught his chin in one hand and dragged his face back towards her, looking carefully into his eyes.  “Ganon, can you hear me?”

His voice failed him for a moment, but he managed to mumble.  “I hear you.  I’m alright.”

Buliara heaved a groaning sigh of relief and he heard Teake mirror her beside him.  

“Can you stand?”  she asked.

Ganon tried to speak again, but found he was too exhausted.  Between freezing to his core and whatever that golden surge had been, he felt less like a person than like an empty jar, nothing left to give.  He nodded instead.

Buliara and Teake helped him to his feet and made sure he was stable before starting to move.

“Wait,” he managed to rasp.  They paused, and he looked directly at the cowering warriors.  “Sapphire weights.  Neat trick.  Don’t ever bring something like that… to a spar again.”

“Yes, my chief!”  They rushed to agree.  “Yes, my king!  Never again!  But we–”

“Both of you, go find Lady Urbosa.  Tell her exactly what you did and why,” Teake snarled.

The warriors, so proficient in their trade, so fearless in battle, looked utterly terrified.

“But–!”

“Now!”

They bolted without another word.

Buliara and Teake helped him back into the palace and up the stairs, but as they reached the door to his chambers, he found the concept of going back inside where it was relatively cool too much to bear.  

“Here is fine…” he mumbled, tugging away from them and sinking to sit on the top stair, leaning on the hot stone wall and basking in the sun’s rays.

“Here?  My chief, you’ll get heatstroke,” Buliara said.  “Please, come inside…”

“I’ll be fine… for a while…”

“With all due respect, you can’t sit on the stairs in the blazing sun, and especially not in this condition.”

“Buliara… leave it.  I just need… a few minutes…”

She opened her mouth to speak again, but Teake laid a hand on her arm and the pair shared a look.  Buliara sighed and finally nodded.  “Alright.  Here is fine.”

They stayed with him until Urbosa arrived, Riju right on her heels.  He couldn’t focus on their voices as Urbosa grilled Buliara and Teake on what exactly had happened, but it was clear all three were angry.  He almost felt bad for his sparring partners.  Almost.

“Ganon?”  Riju’s voice was close by his ear and he slowly turned his head to look at her.  She was holding his right hand, looking it with great curiosity.  “What is this?  Urbosa…?”

He looked to where she motioned and found a pale mark quickly fading from the back of his hand.  Urbosa crouched next to them to inspect.

“A little leftover ice, I think,” she said after a moment.  “Nothing to worry about now.  Ganon, love, I need you to get up.  Come on…”

Ganon sighed but, with great effort, hauled himself back to his feet and let Urbosa guide him back to bed.  Later, he wouldn’t remember laying down.  When he woke, all that would remain would be a sense of golden light, of raw, pure energy surging through him, and an incredible jubilation that wasn’t his own.

✧☽☼☾✧

Zelda paced idly through the halls of Hyrule Castle.  Soon, she would be back in the lab with Link and Purah and their team of adventurous researchers, but for now there was time to kill and a little quiet felt nice.  She wasn’t often alone.  Being a princess, she had the eyes of the kingdom on her at all times.  As a child, she had always been surrounded by guards, by courtiers, by family.  Now, seven years after the disaster that had nearly robbed her of everyone and everything she had ever known and loved, more eyes were on her than ever.  What would be the next actions of the princess who had sealed the demon god Demise?  She had thought the fixation on her powers might have faded a little after the kingdom was safe, but instead she had become something of a folk hero right alongside Link.  She thought she might never get used to that.

But then… perhaps this was what she had always been destined for.  

She paused in a long hallway lined with stained glass windows.  The history of the kingdom of Hyrule had been crafted there, wrought in beautiful colour and astounding artistry, at least as far back as had been recorded.  Many of the windows’ meaning had been lost over the centuries, their stories now as strange as the faces looking back at her, but she knew one fact for certain: these were the Heroes who had come before Link, and her own royal ancestors.  Here, a pair of children sailed a great red ship.  Here, an ancient princess and a Hero in green presented an ocarina to Hylia.  In many, Heroes fought monsters or threatening warriors or sorcerers.  In many of those, his opponent was a Gerudo man.  Had Ganon seen these?  He must have.  He had spent so much time alone in these halls as a child - how could he not have seen?  Her heart twinged.  What would her own window show?

She sighed and moved away, passing the faces of her ancestors until she reached the very last at the end of the hall.  This one was different from the rest, tall and bright and pale as the sky.  In this window, a maiden in white, bearing none of the trappings of royalty, spread her arms wide to receive the gift of the Triforce.  Above her, a Crimson Loftwing spread its wings in a recreation of the seal of Hyrule.  This was the first.  The first reincarnation of Hylia, as an artist imagined she had looked.  Even in geometric glass shards, there was an innocence to her power.  The first of her kind.  The Goddess made mortal.

The sound of shattering glass ripped Zelda out of her reverie and she whirled, expecting to see one of the windows shattered.  The hall was empty and still.  Adrenaline pulsed through her as though she had been struck by lightning.  She trembled.

“Hello?”  She called.  “Is anyone there?”

Only silence returned to her.  

“Hello?”

Somewhere in the distance, someone was playing a flute.  

“Princess?”  A guard asked as he rounded the corner.  Zelda jumped a little at his voice and she looked at him with wide, doe-like eyes.  “Ahh, my deepest apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.  Were you talking to someone…?”

Zelda looked back down the empty hall, bereft of broken glass, then back to the soldier. She forced her best smile and shook her head.

“Oh, no.  I thought I heard something, that’s all.  Perhaps it was only you.  How can I help you, sir?”

“I was sent to fetch you by Miss Purah, your highness.  She says they’re ready for you in the lab.”

“Oh, that’s early…  Very well, I’m on my way.”  

But on the way back down through the castle, she couldn’t stop thinking about the shattering sound she had heard.  Something felt strange about it.  Something so incredibly familiar that she couldn’t place.

What was that…?

She was still thinking about it as she entered the lab, but all her ponderous, uncomfortable thoughts vanished in an instant as she saw what Purah was up to.

Link stood in the middle of the room, expression caught somewhere between resignation and curiosity as Purah and Robbie made adjustments to the leather suit he was wearing.  It was hard to tell if any part of it was comfortable, but Zelda rather suspected it was not.  Link grimaced as Robbie tightened a cinch a touch too far, then grinned wryly at Zelda.

“What?”  His expression said.  He shrugged awkwardly.  “Help, maybe?”

“What in Hyrule are you two doing to him?”  Zelda laughed.  She stepped over to them, dodging discarded bits of leather and fabric and tools tossed aside, and inspected their handiwork.  “What is this?  It’s certainly well-crafted, but…”

“Welcome to Flight Lab, Princess!”  Robbie proclaimed, grinning so broadly that his face looked like rubber.  “Our intrepid Hero is getting ready to fly!  For real, this time!”

Zelda blinked.  “Fly?  What do you mean?”

“Robbie’s a touch over-excited,” Purah said.  “This is a flight suit, yes, but it will help Link glide, not fly.”

“Bah!”  Robbie huffed.  “Same difference!  If he can control where he’s gliding better, he can get to that island and take pictures of the Loftwing for us!  And everything else that’s up there!”

“Oh my…” Zelda looked at the eager scientists, then at Link, who just grinned back.  Hard to sign when a pair of overzealous scientists were currently locking a great pair of treated fabric wings under his arms.  “And this has been tested?  It works?”

“Nope!”  Purah said as she finished attaching her wing.  “We’re gonna try it off the walls so he falls in the moat if this is a stupid idea.”

Hands finally free as Robbie finished his side, Link chimed in.  “The first idea was to try it off the Great Plateau but you’ll be happy to know I vetoed that one real fast.”

Zelda groaned, then laughed.  “Well… I suppose the moat is an improvement.  And when do I get to watch you jump in?”

“In about ten minutes, I think?”  Purah tapped her fan against the side of her head.  “I just need to run Linky through some quick exercises to make sure he can move right in this thing.  The leather’s still so stiff…”

Ten minutes turned into twenty as Purah put Link through his paces.  At first, the leather was so stiff that he could barely walk, but both scientists agreed that could be a good thing - it might help keep him on course.

“Or it could trip him on the stairs,” Zelda argued.  

Then more adjustments needed to be made, Link needed to break the suit in more and more, but finally they made their way out to the castle walls.  They got more than a few odd stares from knights and passing courtiers alike, but ignored them all.  Atop the wall, Purah handed Link a helmet that Zelda was amused to note had a beakish silhouette - a nod to the Rito, perhaps? - and looked ready to vibrate out of her own skin.

“Alright, Linky!  Here we go!  You want me to go over it one more time?”

Link strapped the helmet on and grinned.  He shook his head and raised one hand.  I’m fine.

Purah nudged Zelda with her elbow.  “You sure did choose a brave one.  Maybe not the brightest, but brave.”

Zelda gasped, laughing.  “Purah–!  Don’t you dare!”

“I dunno, she’s probably right,” Link replied.  “I did fall out of a fair few trees as a kid.  Ok, are we doing this or what?”  Without waiting for an answer, he clambered up onto the parapet, peering over the edge at the water below as if it was a short drop onto a pile of cushions rather than a potential threat to his life.

“Ready!”  Purah replied.

“Fly like a bird, young warrior! … or at least don’t splat too hard!”  Robbie exclaimed.

Zelda stepped up to the parapet and looked up at Link.  He knelt, a little awkwardly with the relative stiffness of even partially-broken leather, and for a moment their fingers intertwined.

“I can’t say I’m not thrilled to see the results,” she said softly.  “But be careful.  Please…”

“Promise,” he replied, then released her hand and stood.  With a jaunty wave and a cheeky grin, he stepped off the parapet and into the open air.

The drop was unbelievable.  He had expected something of the sort, considering he had already fallen from thousands of feet above the castle, but seeing the water’s surface rush up to greet him was a different sort of thrill.  He waited as long as he could, angling his body into the wind, then snapped open his arms and let the air catch the suit’s wings.  It was instantaneous.  Faster than a heartbeat, faster than a blink, he caught a gust and falling turned into an exhilarating swoop over the moat.  If he could have spoken, ah, Hylia… he would have shrieked.  Not from fear, but from joy and excitement and pure, untainted thrill.  His paraglider was a fantastic tool, but it was slow and turned like a horse-drawn wagon.  The flight suit, by contrast, let him skim over the water and take hairpin turns right around the–

The moat was much colder than he expected.  As he awkwardly resurfaced, spluttering and coughing, it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t try to touch the water as he flew.  Probably did something to his momentum or… aerodynamics or… something.  Zelda would know.

Despite the drag of his false wings in the water, he managed to make it to the edge of the moat and clamber up the steep wall to the safety and warmth of sun-touched grass.  He tugged off the mask and the top of the suit, laying them out next to him to dry before flopping back on the ground, arms spread wide.  He could still feel the catch of the wind under his arms as the adrenaline in his veins slowed.  His heart still thundered in his chest.  He let out a deep sigh of contentment and closed his eyes against the sun.

“Link!”  

When he reopened them, three faces stared down at him with varying degrees of concern and anticipation.

“Are you alright?”  Zelda asked.  She knelt next to him, hands hovering over him as if she wasn’t sure what to check for injury first. 

He laughed silently and pushed himself upright.  “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done,” he signed.  “Sorry I dropped the suit in the moat, though.”

Purah laughed.  “The suit??  Linky, you dropped you in the moat.”  

“I need details from every angle, boy!”  Robbie dropped to the grass in front of him, cross-legged and leaning forward with a notepad in hand.  “How do you feel the suit did against the thermodynamics of–?”

Link’s head whirled as they peppered him with questions, but he answered each one eagerly, to the best of his ability.  Reassured that he was safe, Zelda’s anxiety quickly faded, replaced by an intense curiosity that made her green eyes sparkle and her grip on his arm tighten.

“Well, this has been a rousing success!”  Purah said at last, dotting her last note with a flourish.  “We’ll have to do some more tests, of course, but you know what this means, Linky!”

He tilted his head curiously.  Purah grinned, wickedly eager.

“Next time you launch, you get to wear that suit!”

Chapter Text

It was a slow week.  Ganon spent two days in his room, and one of those mostly asleep.  On the second, there wasn’t enough spicy food in Gerudo Town to sate his appetite and despite the seriousness of the situation, Riju still found ways to rib him about it.

“Perhaps you should take to growing peppers,” she said as he finished his second pepper steak.  “It might be more economical for the town.”

He grunted and set the plate aside.  “At this point, I may as well consider it.  I can’t shake this chill.”

Riju’s brow furrowed in a concerned frown and she reached out to touch his hand.  “You don’t feel cold…”  

“All the same…”

She leaned across the table at his little breakfast nook, earrings twinkling and chiming in the sunlight from the window.  Her green eyes were sharp as cactus thorns as she inspected as much of him as she could see.  He frowned in response, confused more than concerned.

“What…are you doing…?’

“Looking for frost.”

“Frost…?”

“Lingering magic.” 

When her concern and curiosity were sated, she leaned back and crossed her arms.  “Those soldiers are lucky they’ve already been dealt with.  Perhaps I should duel them all the same.”

Ganon huffed a little laugh and shook his head.  “My little guard dog, hmm?”

“They are lucky I wasn’t there!  You could have died!  You should have died!”  There was a shrill note to her voice that made him look up.  Across the table, Riju’s tiny, delicate fists were balled up and her shoulders lifted defensively.  Teeth bared and posture tense, she snapped as she spoke.  “By the grace of the Seven, you survived, but what if you hadn’t?  They should be given to moldugas!”

It was so easy to forget, or at least push aside, that she had started life on an entirely different path.  As he watched her, so tense and furious, he realised with a sharp burst of clarity that she was not angry, not really.  This was fear.

“Riju…”  Now it was his turn to reach across the table, nudging his plate aside to take her hands in his.  “Calm, little sister… I’m sorry.  This has been a lot for you, hasn’t it?”

She tried so hard to keep her fierce composure.  She tried.  But sure enough, her anger crumbled and left behind only its core of grief.  “I don’t want to lose anyone else,” she said.  “I can’t.”

A tiny tug urged her to abandon her side of the table and join him on his, sliding onto the bench and under his arm, where she bundled herself as small and close as she could manage and clung like a half-drowned animal.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he repeated.  “I didn’t think.”

“I miss her so much,” Riju murmured.  “And when they told us what happened, I thought of the last time I saw her.  She walked out the door that morning like every other day and just… never came home.  I never got to say goodbye.”  Her grip on his shirt tightened and she shuddered.  “They said you weren’t breathing at first.  They said… they thought…”

Ganon remembered well the loss of his breath, of light, of the sun’s warmth.  He hadn’t thought of what it must have looked like from the other side.

They sat in silence for a while, she gathering her thoughts and her composure, and he pondering the fragility of both mortality and the power he was meant to wield.  It was said that to be a king was to command, to control, but it could all crumble in an instant, in the snare of a hunting net.  In the jaws of a monster, at the blade of an enemy, he might be able to withstand a little more than the average person, but death threatened as clearly for him as for anyone else.  Riju knew first hand what that fragility meant, and in a single careless toss a soldier he had trusted his life to had nearly given her a second example.  It made his blood boil.

“No more live weapons for sparring,” he said softly.  “That’s a promise.  Everything will be checked by Buliara or Teake before we start.”

She looked up at him and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.  “What about that light?”

“Hm?”

“Buliara said you broke free with a light - some kind of magic.  What was it?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Urbosa chimed in.  She stood in the doorway, tired but resolute as ever.  Had she ever stopped worrying about him?  Ever since he was a child, her concern and care had been a near constant, even when he feared she would spirit him away back to the desert.  Well, she had gotten at least one wish, in the end, and he was better for it.

“Were you holding a topaz?”

“Ah…”  Ganon thought about it.  How could he explain what he had felt?  The strength, the warmth, the utter, alien joy?  “No, no topaz.  I wish I could explain it.  It felt like… the sun?  I was desperate, and there it was.  It felt good.”

Riju tilted her head.  “I didn’t know you can do magic… Since when?”

Oh.  Yes, that would have to be what this was.  “I… have no idea,”  He replied slowly.  “That was the first time.”

Ancient magic.  Yours to use, when the time comes.

Ghirahim’s voice floated to the surface of his memory and he shuddered.  “He said I’d be able to use magic eventually.  Ghirahim.  I guess… he was right.”

Urbosa was at his side in an instant, looking into his eyes for any trace of distance or darkness.  “Does this feel like him?”  She asked.  “Like before?”

“No.  Not this time.  Back then, I couldn’t think.  I hardly remember most of it.  This is…”  His free hand came up to rest lightly on his chest.  “... happy.  Peaceful, free.  I wish I knew how to describe it.  It’s electrifying and exhausting and… there are no words.”

He watched as the tension went out of Urbosa’s posture, and the Champion sighed with relief.  “Alright.  That’s fine, then.  Although…” She thought, then smiled.  “I suppose we should find you a magic teacher.”

The trouble was, of course, that no pocket of Hyrule was particularly bustling with magic users.  It wasn’t unknown, of course - there were a number of notable figures who wielded rather unique abilities across the kingdoms - but magic was wild and changing and rarely took the same form.  There was no one known amongst the Rito, Zora, or Gorons who wielded any form of light.  Urbosa could likely teach him some, but her expertise was lightning, more helpful to Riju than Ganon.

Over the next few days, as Ganon’s strength returned and Riju slowly ceased sticking to him like a second shadow, a rather obvious thought occurred to him.

“I am an idiot,” he muttered to himself at breakfast.

“True,” Riju quipped.  She looked up at him innocently as Buliara made a strangled noise and tried not to choke on her eggs.  

“Ha-ha,” he replied dryly.  “What a kind sister I have.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Let’s not antagonise Buliara any further,” Urbosa chuckled.  “What are you thinking of, Ganon?”

“Zelda,” he said simply.

“Oh?”

“Who else uses light magic?”

Urbosa blinked, then brightened and laughed.  “Of course!  I’d be surprised if the source is the same, but I imagine our little bird would have a few pointers.”

“I’ll write to her,” he said as he rose from the table.  “It’s been too long, in any case.”

“Give her our best.”

It took no time at all to scribble a quick note explaining the situation and send it off with the fastest messenger in Gerudo Town.  When he had first arrived, he had wondered why carrier pigeons weren’t used.  His first few weeks in the desert heat had shown him exactly why an aviary for such fragile creatures should not be built anywhere near the sands, oasis or not.  He had toyed with the idea of training falcons - if they could manage sand seals and giant horses, why should carrier falcons not be possible? - but the current messenger system was efficient enough for the project to land far from priority status.

Rather than return immediately to the palace, he headed out into the marketplace to take a walk, mingle, and make sure nothing too terrible had cropped up in his absence.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Urbosa’s leadership - quite the opposite, really - but the thought of letting any of them down chilled him faster than that damned net.  His people, as usual, seemed to hardly notice his shortcomings.  As soon as he entered the public space he was greeted with smiles and waves, and more than a few offers of free produce.  They were a generous people, the Gerudo, despite their fraught history, and he knew in his bones that this was not a face they showed only to him.  Shrewd traders, yes, and sometimes a little too sheltered in their youth, but kind and fierce and proud.  Tough enough to thrive in the wasteland, unafraid to face all the monsters the world had to share, but still quick to offer all they had.

“Sav’otta!  Welcome back, my chief!”

“You had us worried - be more careful!”

“Here, take this voltfruit - you like them best, yes?”

It was hard not to smile as a little old vai, stooped with age and leather-skinned from decades in the sun, used every inch of her diminishing height to reach up and poke him in the chest. 

“What were you thinking, fighting with live weapons?”  She barked.  “Young voe, you are irreplaceable!  You will be more careful, do you understand me?”

“My apologies, Vaba,” he replied, offering her a respectful bow.  “You are correct, of course.  I’ve already given the order to restrict live weapons in training.  I’m sorry I worried you.”

She sniffed and crossed her arms.  “I should think so.”  He thought for a moment that she was done, but suddenly she was shoving a whole bag of spicy peppers into his hands.  “You will eat one every hour until you are yourself again!”

He blinked. “Vaba, I appreciate this, but I am already–”

“Every hour!”

He choked back a laugh.  “Yes, Vaba.”

She stood there and watched until he ate one, then marched back into her home, radiating a fierce satisfaction and strutting like a general.  He watched her go, bemused and amused, and finally continued his walk.  He only made it around a single corner before he came across Lura, leaning against the wall of her studio as she sketched out some new project.  She looked up when his shadow broke the sunlight in front of her and immediately brightened.  

“Oh, there you are!  I heard the commotion in the market and who else could cause such a stir?  I don’t suppose stealth is possible for you at all, is it?”

He snorted.  “It is not.  Pepper?”  He offered her the open bag and she looked at it then back at him with great confusion.

“Why do you…?”

“I fear I have upset at least one sweet little old lady.  The option seemed to be to take the peppers or sit in the corner and think about what I’ve done.”

Lura laughed.  “I think I know who you mean.  Oh–!  That reminds me.  Lady Urbosa mentioned you’re looking for a magic teacher, correct?”

“I am.  I just wrote to my sister - she’s likely the only one who can–”

“I don’t know about that,” Lura interrupted.  She seemed strangely eager, as if she was holding something back but couldn’t wait to spill the beans.  “Come inside, I want to introduce you to someone.”

“I suppose… I have time?  Who is this mystery person?”

Lura just pulled the fabric of her door aside and quickly gestured for him to enter.  “In, in!”

“You can’t just tell me, hmm?”  He shrugged and ducked into her studio.  It was cool and dim inside, a shelter against the intensity of the sun.  Both her home and place of work, the front room held her tools, inks, and a stock of gold and silver studs and rings purchased from Isha’s jewellery shop down the street, as well as the comfortable chair where she usually pierced and tattooed her clients.  Behind that, in rooms tastefully shielded by brilliant curtains, lay her home proper.  She led him through the studio with its smells of ink and incense, through the backmost doorway, and into a lounge room furnished with tasteful but obviously comfortable furniture.

“Sit,” she insisted, still smiling that secretive smile.  “Ice fruit juice?”

He sat slowly and set the bag of peppers next to his chair, baffled by the mystery of what seemed to be a simple interaction.  “That sounds lovely, thank you.”  She was gone for a moment, sweeping into the adjoining kitchen and returning with a whole platter of drinks and a full pitcher.

“How many people are we meeting…?”

She handed him a glass and poked her head into another room, up a flight of stairs towards the second floor.  “Vabas!  He’s here!”

It was quiet for a moment, and then a light tapping, more of a scampering, echoed down the stairs.  In a flurry of motion, two tiny, elderly vai holding equally tiny broomsticks scuttled past Lura, crowing with excitement.

“There you are!  Oh, Kotake, isn’t he just as you imagined?”

“Indeed, Koume, indeed!  What a gift, after so long!”

Ganon blinked in surprise, forgetting his manners in a moment of shock.  He had not been aware that any living person could be quite so tiny.  He wasn’t sure how old the two elder Gerudo were, but both were so small that he thought it very likely that they would fit in the palm of his hand.  Their skin was as leathery as could be expected, but in the dimness of Lura’s home it looked nearly green.  They were outwardly identical but for the jewels on their foreheads - a ruby and a sapphire, respectively.

“Ah… it is a pleasure to meet you, ladies,” he said at last, setting his drink aside.  He glanced at Lura, who just stood aside and smiled.  “Kotake and Koume, was it?  And you are… Lura’s grandmothers?”

“We are, we are!”  Kotake crowed.  “Such a good girl, our Lura!”

“She tells us you have a talent,” Koume crooned.  “Should have died, but you fought back!  That’s strong stuff.  A strong voe - strong chief!  But you need teachers!”

By the Seven, they were fast!  Their presence took up the room in a matter of seconds - no wonder Lura just let them take over.

“I will have one soon,” he replied, trying to get his bearings.  “My sister–”

“What, Urbosa’s vehvi?”  Kotake asked.  “The lightning child?  She cannot teach you.  She does not know.”

He chuckled softly.  “No, Vaba, my other sister.  Princess Zelda.  She wields light magic - she can help me.”

Both vai’s expressions soured immediately.  “The Hylian princess?”  They practically hissed in unison.  “Not Gerudo!  She cannot help you!  Hylia’s magic–bah!  You are desert-born!  Your magic is of the sun and the sand and the Seven!”

“You would taint that strength with outsiders’ knowledge?”  Koume asked.

“You will weaken yourself!”  Kotake exclaimed.  “Unacceptable!”

And in unison again:  “We will teach you!”

Ganon was taken aback, reeling from the strength of their conviction.  “Your pardon, ladies,” he said.  “I don’t understand.  Are you saying you’re magic-users…?”  He glanced at Lura, but she hardly reacted at all, staying rooted in the doorway.

“We are the finest witches Gerudo has ever known!”  Koume announced proudly.

“Our magic is as ancient as the sand!”  Kotake said.  She broke into a cackling giggle.  “Just like us, eh Koume?”

“Yes, yes, sister!  Ancient magic - Gerudo magic!  We will teach you!

Ancient magic.  Yours to use, when the time comes.

A terrifying phrase, full of dark promise.  An exciting thought, electrifying and no longer bound to evil.

He loved Zelda dearly, but she was a novice with her magic at best - she had had no one to teach her and few opportunities to use her powers.  She had used her light to seal Demise and save Ganon, but what if their magics were completely incompatible?  But Kotake and Koume claimed to know the natural magic of Gerudo.  What could be more fitting?  

He nodded, giving them as respectful a bow as he could manage from his seat.  It seemed wrong to stand - he would tower over them like a tree over squirrels.  “If you are willing to teach me,” he said.  “I would be most honoured.

The twin vai straightened from their stooped postures, utterly exaltant.  He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath.  They seemed so pleased… how long had they been planning this?  He had known that word of his injury had spread quickly, but the magic use as well…?  They must have heard from Lura, he supposed.

“Excellent!”  Kotake said.

“We will begin immediately!” Koume insisted.  As one, they scooped up glasses of ice fruit juice, clinked their glasses together, and drank.

“Now?”  Ganon asked, eyes widening.  “I appreciate that, but I need to–”

Koume interrupted him by swatting him with her broom.  “You ‘need to’ nothing!  It is time to learn!”

“But I–”

Another swat, this time from Kotake.  “Time to learn!”

He laughed.  That was today gone, then.  “Very well… Now, it is.”

The tiny witches crowed with satisfaction and delight.  “Time to learn!  We begin!”

✧☽☼☾✧

In the quiet of Master Azuri’s great library, Cime and Vaati stood over the map Purah lent them.  Piles of books weighted its corners and pencils lay scattered across its surface.  Here and there, all across Hyrule, Vaati had made a series of tentative marks, but their work had ground to a halt.

“I don’t understand it,” the sorcerer muttered, arms crossed and one fist balled under his chin.  “I remembered it all so clearly, but it seems to be… fading.”

“It has been a while since you had to think about it,” Cime offered.  The sheikah leaned over the table, resting on the heels of his palms, and studied the map in closer detail.  “And who knows if the Picori’s legends are even fully accurate?”

“They are,” Vaati huffed.  “Certainly more accurate than Hylian histories.  You seem to trade your good memories for height.”

“Oh?  Then are you sure that’s not your problem, too?  You’re certainly taller now…”

Vaati’s crimson eyes widened.  An utterly indignant, strangled noise clawed its way out of his throat.  “I– you– Oh, you wretch!”  But he was stifling a laugh, trying to retain his composure, and Cime was flashing a charming grin over one shoulder in the tinted light from Azuri’s stained-glass windows. 

“Perhaps I should curse you tiny and see how you fare,” Vaati offered, reaching over to shove playfully at Cime.  “You’d like to do battle with a bumblebee or three, yes?  I’d pay a great many rupees to see that…”

“I don’t know about fighting any insects,” Cime chuckled, straightening. “But I don’t think I’d mind seeing your world.  Think of all the poems and songs an adventure like that would inspire…!”  He sighed dreamily and stared off at nothing for a moment before refocusing.  “But I suppose I’ll just have to sate my appetite with the sky islands, hmm?”

“If I still had the Mage’s Cap, I’d take you there right now,” Vaati replied. 

Cime looked at him curiously.  “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“I would have thought it was rather more secretive than that.”

Vaati shrugged.  “Not on purpose.  We just… have no reason to interact with Hyrule anymore.  We became separate long ago, and that suits us just fine.  But… I would like to hear the songs you would compose.”

Cime smiled.  “A lovely thought, but I suppose it’s not to be.”

Vaati looked away, eyes cast to the floor and arms crossed uncomfortably across his chest.  “No…  and I’m sorry for that.”

“What? What could you be sorry for?”  

“I’m sorry I’m not stronger.  That I… messed up so badly.  If I was anyone else, we could go and I would be… welcome.”

“Oh… Vaati…”  Cime closed the gap between them and gently laid his hands on Vaati’s shoulders.  “Hey… hey, now.  I don’t care about that.  You’re here and that’s enough.”  He ducked slightly until he could meet Vaati’s gaze again.  “Look at me.  You’re not perfect, and we had a pretty shaky start...”

Vaati let out a watery little laugh.  “That’s an understatement…”

“... but you’re doing better, right?  You wouldn’t try to stab me now, yes?”

Vaati’s head snapped up and he stared at Cime for a moment.  “Of course not–!”

Cime smiled brightly.  “Then it’s all ok.  Come on, let’s take a break.  We’ll have lunch, and then perhaps we’ll have a look at some of the older history tomes?  Maybe we’ll find some clues to jog your memory.”

“I… ah… yes.  Yes, that sounds… nice.  A break would be nice.”

“Good!  Come along, then.  This way.”

“I know the way to the kitchen,” Vaati scoffed, but he didn’t pull away from Cime’s hand on his back.  “You utter pest…”

After an hour, a meal, and a little too much of Azuri’s lemonade, Cime looked ready for a nap in a patch of sunlight, but Vaati’s determination had been restored.  With vigour and flourish, he deposited their dishes in the kitchen sink and all but dragged Cime back to the library.  

“What books do you have in mind?”  He demanded.  “I can’t think of any old enough to speak of sky islands - what do you know that I don’t?”

“First off–”  Cime stifled a yawn as he followed in Vaati’s wake.  “I’ve lived in this house a lot longer than you.  Of course I know things you don’t.  Second, I don’t think any of Azuri’s tomes do mention sky islands.”

“Then what are we–?”

“Faerie tales.”

Vaati stopped, turned, and fixed Cime with an incredulous, exasperated glare.  “What??  Are you mocking me, brat?”

Cime raised a placating hand.  “I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out.  Faerie tales, legends, folklore, and records of old songs frequently carry fragments of truth.  There is a chance, however slim, that we may be able to find something interesting.  Your ancestors came to Hyrule once before, yes?  To help the Hero of Man?  So then it follows that some of their knowledge may have made its way into our use, unknown.  Does that make sense?”

Vaati paused, pondering deeply, then brightened.  “Cime, you’re a genius!”

The Court Poet grinned.  “I know.”

“Time for preening later.  Show me the books!”

✧☽☼☾✧

Link wore a distinctly smug look as they rode the trail away from Castle Town.  It was a beautiful day - blue skies, rolling fields of waving grass dotted with wildflowers, a fresh breeze and warm sun keeping them neither too hot nor too cool - but Zelda suspected her loving, adorable, utterly mischievous husband was planning something not unlike a thunderstorm.

“I’m not sure I like that smile,” she teased.  Even Epona seemed to be picking her feet up.  It was hard to say if the mare was just happy to be out for a ride, or if her rider’s mischief was rubbing off on her again.  It wouldn’t be the first time Link had dragged his horse into shenanigans, or the first time Epona had framed Link for crimes (usually involving apples and/ or alfalfa).  “What are you two planning?”

“Epona is perfectly innocent,” he replied.  “She just agrees with me.”  Zelda instantly picked up on the eager way his hands all but bounced through each sign, and how Epona tossed her head in response to Link’s energy.

“And what does she agree with you on today?”

“Oh… nothing special.  I’m just looking forward to seeing Revali’s feathers get a little ruffled.”

Zelda frowned and tilted her head slightly.  “What on earth do you–”  She blinked.  No.  Oh no.  “Did you bring the wing suit?  Tell me you didn’t bring the wing suit…”

Link’s grin nearly split his face in half and he bit his lip to contain it.  He was practically vibrating.  “I didn’t not bring the wing suit.”

“Oh, Link…”  Zelda pinched the bridge of her nose, caught between exasperation and laughter.  “This is a diplomatic mission!  You can’t be tormenting a Champion in his own home while we’re representing Hyrule!”

“If it’s a diplomatic mission, why don’t we have an entourage?”  He leaned so far out of the saddle as he spoke that he was practically horizontal, leaning right up against her.  “This is clearly a visit with friends where you might possibly spend some time talking business.  And while you’re busy… well… maybe I get a little bored and make Revali eat his words.”

Zelda laughed and shoved him back upright before her own horse could get too antsy.  Snow was already huffing and stomping a little, diva that he was.  “Oh goddess… you are incorrigible, you know?”

“You love me for it.”

“I love you for a great number of things, but ‘diplomatic incidents’ are not one of them.”

They arrived at Rito Stable just before sunset.  With Epona and Snow settled into the most comfortable stalls available, Zelda led the way across the gently-swaying triad of rope bridges into the village.  To her delight, the dulcet voices of a whole troop of chicks drifted down from some platform high above, perhaps a choir or a singing lesson, giving them a musical accompaniment as they climbed the long, spiral staircase to the residential neighbourhood.  Far above, Vah Medoh’s vast wings spread wide, casting a long shadow in the dipping sun, and a telltale shadow swooping around the Beast made her glance at Link.

“Just don’t get me in trouble,” she finally conceded.  “But have fun.”

Link gave her a sharp salute and an eager grin, then masked his glee with a soldier’s dignity as several shadows descended to meet them at Revali’s Landing.

“Welcome, Princess!”  Teba called from above.  The white Rito landed on light talons and extended his wings to them. Right on his heels, Saki and Harth, all warm smiles and hospitality.  “And Link, good to see you!  What brings you both to the Village?”

Link nudged her with one elbow and signed wryly.  “Diplomatic mission, huh?  So they knew we were coming?”

“Hush,” she said, nudging him right back.  Attention back on Teba, she smiled brightly.  “I thought we’d drop by and congratulate you, Chief Teba.  Chief Kaneli’s retirement came as quite a surprise!”

“It did indeed,” Teba agreed.  “I’m still getting used to it.  It’s sweet of you both to come all the way out here, though.  Come up to the house?  We have some nice apple tea to share, if you like?”

“Oh, Teba,” Saki scolded.  “Tea?  Really? It’s dinner time.”  She smiled and ushered them back toward the stairs.  “You must come for dinner.  We’re having salmon, and these absolutely delightful cakes Molli made for dessert….”

“Hope I’m a better leader than host,” Teba muttered to Link as they walked.  “How’re you doing?  Still keeping up with the paragliding?”  From where she walked next to Saki, in front of the group, Zelda couldn’t see what Link was signing.  There was a moment of silence, then a noise of surprise from both Teba and Harth, and then they both laughed.

“He’s up with Medoh, as always,” Teba replied.  “Tulin’s with him.  He’ll love this…”

“Can I watch?”  Harth sounded far too eager.

Zelda focused her attention back on Saki and tried not to laugh.  Poor Revali…

After dinner, Link was more than ready, and so were his new co-conspirators.  Harth went to fetch Revali and Tulin while Zelda helped Link don his suit.

“You will be careful, yes?”  She asked.  He nodded, flashed her a huge, eager grin and, when she had finished locking the wing pieces into place on his arms, cupped her face and kissed her.  

“He won’t know what hit him,” he signed.  “But I promise to be careful.”

A stray lock of hair had come loose from beneath his helmet.  She tucked it back inside, careful not to miss a single strand, and finally let him go.  As she watched from Teba and Saki’s house higher along the pillar, Revali and Tulin joined them at Revali’s landing.  From their body language alone she could see that Revali was mocking Link… until Link lifted his arms dramatically and revealed the point of the suit.  Revali stumbled back a step and Zelda could hear faint echoes of his indignance across the divide.

“Here we go,” Saki chuckled.  “Can he really fly in that thing?”

“To an extent,” Zelda replied as Link pulled a face at Revali and leaped off the Landing.  Revali let out a squawk and leapt after him, both tearing through the air at a breakneck pace around the pillar.  Revali was, of course, the better flyer, but he wasn’t used to Link having any competitive merit at all and Link took full advantage of the wing suit’s trick flying capabilities.  Zelda winced as he nearly flew into a secondary pillar, but he righted himself and–

Into the water again.  She gasped as he crashed into the lake and rushed down to meet them as Revali and Teba hauled him out of the water and up onto the pillar where the ancient and unknowable Sheikah Shrine stood, glowing orange in the dusk.  Link was stripping off wet leather as she got there.  Miraculously, the clothes he was wearing underneath were dry as a bone.  Purah would be gratified to confirm that the wing suit was, in fact, entirely airtight when sealed correctly.

“Link!  Are you alright??”

“Absolutely fine!” he signed.  “What a rush!”

“You are a complete idiot!”  Revali cried.  “What would you have done if I wasn’t there?  Once again, I save your useless self!”  He huffed, wings crossed as Link peeled the Sheikah Slate out of a pocket of his suit.  “And endangering ancient technology, too.  Typical.”

“Revali,” Teba chided.  “Come on… be nice.”

“No one got hurt,” Harth added.

“That’s not the point!  He’s reckless as a chick with his first feathers!”  Revali snapped.  

“Why did you bring that?”  Zelda asked, focusing on Link. “Oh, Link, it isn’t damaged, is it?”

“Nah, it’s tough,” he signed, and sure enough, the Slate showed no sign of visible damage.  It blinked to life as he poked at it.  “See? Fine.”  Now struggling to remove the last of the wing suit one-handed, he stumbled and fell backwards, flailing a little with the Slate still in hand.  Zelda and Revali both reached for him, but he slipped out of their reach and grabbed at the shrine’s pedestal for balance.  The Sheikah Slate smacked into the pedestal first, and before Zelda could register what had happened, the Shrine ignited into a blue flare with a metallic sound.  The solid metal doors, impenetrable to anyone for thousands of years, split open and revealed an inner chamber.  A voice spoke, but it wasn’t audible, per se.  Zelda looked around in awe and soon realised the voice she was hearing was in her head - was in all of their heads.

You who bears the spirit of the Hero, welcome.  Step inside, and face my challenge.

For a moment, all of them could only stare.

“What– how–  what did you do??”  Zelda cried.  She and Cime had studied every shrine they could find for so many years and none of them had ever reacted.  And now, out of nowhere, the doors were open.  Possibilities flashed before her eyes: scientific discoveries, history!  She had to see the inside!

Link stepped forward, tentatively reaching towards the door, and Zelda leapt to his side to join him.  However, the blue light screening the entrance was exactly as it seemed for Link, but a solid wall to Zelda.

Only the Hero may enter here, the voice said.  Only the Hero.

Zelda all but snarled with frustration.  “That’s not fair!”  But what was she supposed to do against an ancient building that apparently had a mind of its own?  “Link,” she demanded.  “Use the Slate’s camera function.  It’s up to you to document every inch of that shrine, do you hear me?  Every inch!  History is in your hands!”

He laughed silently, saluted her again, then jolted and barely caught his balance as the floor of the shrine dropped slowly out from under him, lowering him into the depths.  Zelda whined with frustration as she watched him disappear from sight, then rushed back to Teba and Saki’s loft to grab her notebook and pencils from her bag.  If she couldn’t experience the Shrine herself, at least she could make some very detailed notes to pour over with Cime later.  Though the others wanted to be involved, her research quickly turned single-minded and they began to drift in and out as the hours passed.  In the end, only Revali stayed until Link returned, keeping a silent vigil as she worked by torchlight.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” She offered eventually.  “I appreciate the company, but this can’t be fun for you.”

“It’s not,” Revali replied.  “But I’d be a poor Champion if I wasn’t there for my princess, hmm?  Don’t fret - you can repay me later.”

When Link finally emerged, exhausted and sweaty but still bright-eyed, he ignored her demands for information and just handed her the Slate.  She flipped through the many, many pictures he had taken and scribbled more notes.

“Oh, this is incredible!  Look at the craftsmanship–!  And here!  Is this–?”  She looked up for clarification and found Link swaying.  Immediately, she shoved her curiosity aside, packed up her makeshift studio, and climbed to her feet.  “I’m sorry,” she laughed softly.  “You poor thing, you must be exhausted.  Let’s go back to the Inn, shall we?”

He barely had the energy to clean up, and when they sank into a feather bed, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.  How a grown adult, and a soldier at that, could flop into a bed with such childlike abandon was entirely beyond her, but she found it endearing nonetheless.   Zelda watched him for a while, tracing the lines of his face in the moonlight with her eyes alone, then picked the Slate back up and poured over the pictures again and again.  Just one more look, she thought.  Just one more picture, then I’ll sleep.

She didn’t notice as the moon swept across the sky, or as the stars began to fade.  Dawn’s dusting of feathery pink and orange completely slipped her notice, and even birdsong could not rouse her from the depths of her focus.  It wasn’t until the rising sun caught the Slate’s screen just so and flicked the light into Link’s face that she came out of it, and only because he stirred.

“I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”  She smiled and brushed a stray strand of hair from his bleary face.  The sun was caught there, casting dirty blond hair brightest gold–  She blinked.  “What… what time is it…?”  The world was awake, and she had not slept.

“Did you stay up all night…?”  Link’s sleepy fingers slurred.

A groan escaped her lips and she shut the Sheikah Slate off and set it on the bedside table.  “I suppose I did…”

He laughed - a huffing, airy sound - and pulled her down to lay next to him.  She giggled as he peppered her with kisses, then wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.  His meaning was silent, but clear:  It’s still too early.  Go to sleep.

✧☽☼☾✧

They stayed at Rito Village for two days.  No more trick flights, no more shrine exploration, though Link could tell that the latter was eating at Zelda in a uniquely pointed way.  She kept looking back towards the new blue light with a deep curiosity and longing, a fire rekindled in her that she had been forced to let die when so many years of research came up with nearly nothing.  There were other things to do, other projects that needed quicker attention, and the shrines would be there tomorrow.  But now, seven years post-disaster, Sheikah tech conquered, peace achieved, a shrine had opened for him alone, and he had returned with pictures and its name: Akh Va’quot.  At last they knew: the shrine was named for the mummified monk who had prayed in its core for ten thousand years.  He saw her eyes flick in the direction of the shrine again and again, and then to other points of orange light on the horizon.

“What do you think they’re called?”  She asked as they looked out from Revali’s Landing.  “If there is a monk in each one, they must all have names.  They sacrificed themselves to protect against the Calamity… it’s tragic that we don’t know them now.”

On the third morning, Link kissed her goodbye, lingering a little before she could pull away.

“It’s only for a day,” she said.  “I’ll warp home, fetch Purah, and meet you at the Lindor’s Brow Tower, quick as a blink.”  Both of them would have liked it better if he could have gone with her, but someone needed to bring the horses.  

“I’ll try not to take too long,” he replied, grinning wryly.  “Shame horses can’t warp…”

One last kiss, one last moment, and then Zelda was away, disintegrating into blue light and fading into the sky.  Link watched the last blue ribbons disappear, then sighed and headed for the bridge.  It was slow-going, saying his goodbyes along the way, but eventually he made it to the last set of stairs, where a haughty figure waited.

“Another adventure, then, hmm?”  Revali asked.  Link wasn’t sure how the Rito Champion made “just standing there” look like a challenge, but he managed it very well.  “Should I expect to need Medoh again, or is this just a personal thing?”

“Unfortunately for your ego, this one’s just us,” Link replied.  “Unless one of the Shrines only lets in Rito.”

“They all should,” Revali retorted.  “Hylia knows I would complete any challenges they set me in record time.  Ah, well… perhaps that’s why you were chosen to enter - to preserve the idea that there is any challenge at all.”

Link was about to snap back, enjoying their banter a little more than was likely proper, when a cry suddenly echoed down the spiral stairs behind them. 

“Link!  Link!!”

He turned, confused, and Zelda leaped into his arms, nearly tackling him into the balcony rail.

“Princess Zelda?”  Revali asked.  “Didn’t you leave…?  How did you–?”

“Look!”  she cried.  “Look at this!”  She dragged herself away from Link and shoved the glowing screen of the Slate toward them.  They peered at it carefully.  Link noticed before Revali did.

“Is that…?”

“Yes!”  Zelda was near hysterical with excitement, all but vibrating out of her own skin.  There, glowing blue and bright on a map that had previously only shown Sheikah Towers, was Akh Va’quot Shrine.  “It’s tied into the network!  Every time we unlock a shrine, it will become a new landing site!”

Finding no words appropriate, Link simply grabbed Zelda by the waist and whirled her around as she laughed wildly.  Revali stared at them, then sighed and pressed a feathery hand to his face, but the Rito was smiling.  Trying to hide his warmth, but smiling nonetheless.

“You two will never cease to amaze me,” he said, shaking his head and making the beads in his braids rattle.  “I suppose this means I’ll have to endure many more visits from the pair of you.  Oh well… at least Teba will be happy about it, I suppose, and Tulin does seem to love you.”

“We love you, too, Revali,” Zelda giggled.  She stumbled a little as Link set her down and clung to him for support.

Revali could no longer hide the warmth in his eyes and cleared his throat roughly before he could betray himself.  “I know,” he said.  “Well, you know where to find me if you need me.”  And in a rush of wind, he was rocketing up into the sky.

“We’ll meet you at the Tower,” Zelda said, squeezing Link’s hand.  “Be quick - Purah wants all the details and there’s only so much I can tell her!”

Link watched her warp away again, shook his head, and headed back across the network of bridges at last.  There may not be a demon to fight, but damn if the world didn’t seem to be getting interesting again.

Chapter Text

Purah and Zelda were waiting when he reached Lindor's Brow.  Even at a distance, he could hear them yelling for him to hurry up, and after a long, lonely ride he wanted to do nothing else.  Still, out of a sense of raw, impish mischief, he slowed Epona and Snow from trot to walk and let the horses meander lazily up the road.  He couldn't make out the words being yelled at him from the Skyview Tower's base, but as the tone changed he imagined he could hear a few curse words and jabs.  He chuckled silently to himself and patted Epona's neck before reaching into his saddlebag to offer both horses an eagerly-accepted endura carrot.

"Let's keep it nice and slow, huh?" He mouthed, and though no sound came out but a breathy echo of words, he thought the horses understood him anyway.  Well… Epona did, at least.  He could never quite connect with Snow the same way, even after the white stallion got used to him.

Eventually, he made it to the edge of the tower's moat-like lake.  He dismounted lazily, tethered the horses to a nearby tree, and sauntered up to where two now-silent scientists glared at him with barely-contained frustration (though he was smugly gratified to also note a twinkle of humour in their eyes).

"Linky," Purah scolded.  "You are a bad man."

"I know," he replied, flashing them a wide grin.

"Incorrigible," Zelda sighed.  There was a moment of silence, then she couldn't contain herself any longer.  "Well?  Are you ready?"

"Ready to fly, captain," he replied.  "Purah?  Tower's good to go?"

"All ready and waiting, slowpoke.  First, you fly.  Second, we're going to have a long talk about your little shrine adventure, got it?"  She smacked her fan into her palm in a way that brooked no argument.

"Yes, ma'am!"

It took a while to get them set up, longer than Link expected, but he was glad to find that Purah's new plans included a pouch on the back of the wing suit to hold his paraglider.

"Just in case," she said.  "We wouldn't want our Hero falling ten thousand feet to the ground, would we?"

"Oh Goddess, Purah, don't."  Zelda groaned.

"Well, we don't!"  Purah insisted.  "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't assume a smear on the hillside can investigate all those shrines!"

He stared at her.  “All of them?”

“Of course all of them,” Zelda replied.  “We have a golden opportunity to explore annals of history that have been completely inaccessible for thousands of years!  Don’t you want to be a part of that?”

“... And how many shrines have you counted?”

“One hundred and twenty,” she stated without a second of hesitation.  For a moment, Link froze at the thought of that many challenges, that much effort… but then he remembered the puzzle, the struggle, the thrill of success–!

“A hundred twenty.  You’ve got it.”

Zelda brightened like a lantern in the dark.  “Really? You mean it?”

“‘Course!  Sounds like fun!  I just wish I could take you with me.”

“Ok, ok!”  Purah stomped her foot and pointed at the Tower.  “Enough, already!  We can talk about shrines later - it’s sky island time!  Linky, get in there!”

A smile, a salute, and a quick kiss for Zelda, and he darted onto the platform.  “Don’t let me forget,” he signed as the Tower began to rumble. “The monk gave me something!  I’ll tell you about it when I get back!”

He barely heard Zelda and Purah screech “What??” before the Tower flung him into the sky.

Just as before, the Purah Pad read the earth and the sky and made its map.  Just as before, Link revelled in the disorienting weightlessness.  But this time, unlike the single island he had glimpsed from the Tower in Hyrule Field, he realised the sky was full of them.  Behind every cloud, a new island, a new chain, a new adventure.  Without hesitation, he shoved the Purah Pad in its pouch, snapped open his wings, and soared towards the nearest island.

But before he got too far, an echoing roar rippled across the sky.  With nowhere to go and no way to stop, Link had no choice but to close his wings.  He plummeted like a rock, dropping from the sky in a blur.  As he fell, he looked all around in a panic - what kind of monster had made a sound like that?  The dragons didn’t fly this high… did they?

Before he could even finish the thought, the great, undulating serpent glided overhead, passing him as though he were no more than another cloud.  It was no larger than the others of its kind, but somehow more elegant, brighter.  He strained to study it and the golden haze radiating from its snout, but a cloud rushed up to envelop him and he lost sight of it.  By the time he had fallen clear, the white dragon was gone, disappearing around an island and too far above him to see any more than a squiggly line in the distance.  Even the Purah Pad’s camera couldn’t focus on it at that range.  He sighed, replaced the Pad in its pouch and let himself fall another few thousand feet before he pulled out his glider and drifted back to Lindor’s Brow.

✧☽☼☾✧

The sun beat down like a club on the scrappy, scattered ruins of the Arbiter’s Grounds.  Away from the bustle and shade of Gerudo Town, where the only sounds were of shifting sand and the occasional bird call, the world felt wide and wild indeed.

Ganon sat in the centre of the ruins, cross-legged, hands on his knees, face turned up towards the sun.  Even with his eyes closed, the light nearly blinded him, and his skin had taken on a ruddy flush from exposure.  Still, he didn’t move except to speak.

“Vabas,” he rumbled.  “Is there a point to this?”

“Patience, boy!”  Kotake snapped.  She and her sister lounged on silk cushions in the shade of a pillar, sipping drinks cooled with her magic.  “Do you know the power of the sun yet?  I think not!”

“I must assume you mean sunburn…”  he opened one eye and peered at them across the sand.  The ice in their goblets clinked most appealingly.  Condensation on the crystal contrasted sharply with the sweat on his skin.

“Insolent boy!” Koume hissed.  “Can you throw fire yet?  Can you channel sunlight?  You cannot!  So sit!  Listen!”

“Listen to what, pray tell?”  He was getting tired of their cryptic comments, their half-lessons.  If he wanted to meditate, he would have joined Urbosa and Riju in the palace’s shade, not sat out to roast in the desert.

“The sun!”

His other eye opened and he stared at them incredulously.  “The sun?  That’s what this is all about?  You want me to listen to the sun??”  He threw an arm out and gestured at the sky.  “I’m sorry to tell you this, ladies, but the sun is a little too far away to hear!”

Immediately, Koume was at his side, striking him with her broom.  He snarled and tried to swat her weapon away, but it found purchase on his head, his shoulders, his back, and chest.

“Foolish boy!”  she cried.  “This is why you are so old and only just learning your magic!  You cannot listen!”

“Stop that!”  He finally managed to grab the broomstick, nearly lifting her off the ground as he attempted to stop her attack.  “Vaba Koume, I value your expertise greatly, but if you don’t stop hitting me, this will end immediately.  Do you understand?”

The little witch froze, as did her sister in the shade.  As quickly as they had flown into a scolding rage, both began to simper and demure.

“My apologies, great chief,” Koume crooned.  “You’re right, of course, I never should have hit you.”

“Forgive my sister, my king!” Kotake called  “She is foolish sometimes!”

“Shut up, Kotake!  You’re just as foolish as me!”

Ganon sighed and released the broom.  “Ladies… I admit, I would feel better about all of this if you could show me proof that it is going anywhere.  I trusted you for Lura’s sake, and because you made grand promises.  Show me that it is not in vain.”

The witches looked at each other, then nodded.  

“Very well, King Ganondorf,” Koume said.  “I will show you my fire.”

He had thought the heat of the sun alone was intense, but when the little vai drew upon her magic, he recoiled as if from a blacksmith’s forge.

“Vaba–!” he gasped, and for an instant he thought to wrap her in his own robe and smother the flames that now leapt from her hair and the bristles of her broom, but she was in control.  Skyward she sped, riding her broomstick, and fire rained down all around the Arbiter’s Grounds, scorching the earth and air alike and forcing him to cover his eyes against the light.  When the barrage ended and the light faded, he opened them again to see Koume standing in front of him, and the sand dotted with hundreds of glass craters.

“That is the flame of a Gerudo witch,” she told him.  “That is why you must learn to listen to the sun!”

How does one respond to such a thing?  Ganon did the only thing he could imagine in the moment and bowed to her.  “My apologies for my lack of faith, Lady Koume, Lady Kotake, and for my anger.  I will try again.”  

“Before you cast a single spell, you must learn to listen, and you must learn control,” Kotake called from her seat. 

“Magic is volatile and dangerous.  If you do not learn, you could easily burn someone you care about,” Koume continued.  “So sit as we told you, and listen.”

His blood chilled and his heart stuttered against his ribs.  He already knew, deep in his heart, that the threat of hurting someone was very real and potentially very deadly, but to hear them say it turned the fear crystal sharp.  He would not allow himself to become a threat again.  He would not allow anyone else to be hurt on his behalf.

“Help me keep them safe,” he begged.  “Please…”

“Do as we say, then.  Sit.”

Ganon sat as instructed, closed his eyes, and turned his face towards the sun.

That evening, scorched and dehydrated and exhausted, he all but limped back into the palace.

“Ganon?”  Urbosa’s eyes widened as she saw the state of him and she rushed to meet him as he slunk into the throne room.  “What happened?  Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he replied.  “As ever.  I… learned a lot today.”

“Like how to get a sunburn?”  Urbosa asked.  Her sharp tone cut at him, but he was too numb to react, too tired, too hot.

“When you channel lightning, how do you control where it goes?”

“I retain a great deal of focus.  Why do you ask?”

“And what would happen if you didn’t focus?  If you let it loose where it pleased?”

“Then someone could be hurt, of course.  Badly, maybe.  What is this all about?”

Without a word, he sank to the floor next to one of the pools near the throne dais and stuck his feet in the water.  Leaning back on his hands with a groan of relief, he let his head fall back and caught his breath for a moment while Urbosa waited, patient but unrelenting.

“I have used my magic exactly once,” he said at last.  “And I am told it was explosive, that ice flew like shards of glass.”

“Yes, but–”

“What if a shard had been large enough to do damage?  What if it hit someone?  What if my light wasn’t constrained by ice, but lashed out alone?  Someone could have died.”

“You almost did.”

“Not the point.  If learning to control this gift takes a little pain, then so be it.  Better me than an innocent bystander.”

Urbosa fought for an argument, searched her heart for a defence against this incredible, reckless stupidity - what idiot spent the whole day in the sun, unprotected?? - but she could find nothing.  Perhaps the method was flawed, but the truth of it was there:  Magic could not be allowed to harm the people it was meant to protect.

She let out a scoffing huff and shook her head.  “I don’t know that I’m happy with these teachers,” she said.  “But… if you are satisfied, then for now I will hold my tongue.  Do you feel you are progressing?”

Ganon smiled, slowly opened his eyes, and lifted one hand, palm up.  For a moment, nothing.  Then, soft and slow as a baby rabbit, a mote of light flickered into being.  Suspended over his palm, it cast the kind of light usually reserved for torches and candles.

“Oh…” Urbosa murmured.  “It’s lovely…”  Her expression darkened as he let the light fade and dropped his hand again.  “But it’s a very little thing for so much damage.”

He chuckled softly.  “Perhaps.  But I can handle a little sunburn.” 

“Promise me you won’t let it burn you up.  I fought much too hard for you to thrive.  Do not extinguish your own light to turn this one on.”

“I promise.”

“Good, now get your feet out of that pool and go to bed.  Look at you - you’re a mess.”

He laughed, this time louder and more hearty.  “Yes, Auntie.”

“Don’t “yes, Auntie” me!  Go!”

The stairs had never seemed so steep, nor his bath so far away.  He nearly fell asleep in the water, but managed to clean up and drag himself to bed.  As consciousness slipped away, his last thoughts were of magic, of power, and of a bone-chilling fear for those he loved.

✧☽☼☾✧

Weeks passed.  The last of Purah's Skyview Towers completed their rapid construction and Link tested every single one.  With each launch, his skill with the wing suit grew, though he was never quite able to reach any of the sky islands, and he never saw the Crimson Loftwing or the new dragon again.  It was like they had appeared to welcome him into their world only to disappear once more into time and history.

A messenger from Gerudo arrived just after the launch from Lindor's Brow, but a second arrived immediately after to counter her message.

"Oh my," Zelda hummed as she read the first.  "Link, look at this.  Ganon wants me to teach him magic.  Oh dear, I don't think I have the time–  how can I go to Gerudo when the Towers and the Shrines need so much attention…?  What does this one say…"

Link watched from a comfortable perch on the nearest counter in her study as she set one letter aside and picked up the next.  She skimmed it, paused, read more intently, then smiled.  "Oh.  Crisis averted - he's found someone.  Would you pass me that paper? … Ah, to your left… thank you… I'll send him a note back…"

Later, as Link delved into each shrine and returned with pictures and stories of technological challenge and adventure, he also returned with something else: each monk granted a gift of Light, and with each one he grew stronger.  With each gift, he felt his bond with the Master Sword bloom.

"I don't know how else to describe it," he told them as they sat around Purah's lab table shortly after the twentieth shrine.  Books piled high, papers scattered everywhere, the room was a disaster of progress.  "It's like… warmth.  I feel amazing.  Shame we didn't figure this out before Demise…"

Purah hummed and tapped her fan against her head, staring intently at Link as she worked through her thoughts.

"What?"  He asked, shifting slightly in the intensity of her gaze.  

"Every time you complete a shine," she replied.  "You earn a gift.  You get stronger.  These shrines were supposedly built to defend against the Calamity, but when Demise actually returned, you didn't need them."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Maybe.  Maybe not."

"What are you thinking of, Purah?"  Robbie asked.  "Go on, speak up."

"Hush," she huffed.  She paused, staring at the half-covered map before them.  For a long moment, she was silent.  Then:  "I don't like the implication that there could be a greater threat waiting. What if Demise's "return" was just a test run?  What if the real threat is still coming?"

Every face around the table went pale, every set of eyes owlish and wide.

"That can't be," Cime shuddered.  "That was Demise.  All that chaos, the damage… What could be worse than that?"

"There have been others," Vaati muttered.  "Ten thousand years of cycling light and dark… Demise has risen before, and been sealed each time.  Why should this time be any different?"

Instinctively, Link reached for Zelda''s hand.  She squeezed back tight and they shifted closer in their seats.

"Well… at least we'll be prepared," Zelda said.  "We'll be watching, and Ganon will not be taken unawares again."

"Why should he try for Ganon again?"  Robbie asked.  "He's already failed there once - surely he'd try another target.  It's only logical."

"Demise bound himself to the male Gerudo phenomena millennia ago," Vaati said.  "I wouldn't expect anything different.  In fact…"  he looked to Zelda.  "Send a messenger. The sooner the better.  Warn him to prepare.  We might not have the time we think we do."

Zelda's eyes widened.  She frowned, nodded, and lifted a fist to her chest.  "I hope you're wrong," she said.  "Truly.  But if you are right, then we will be better prepared this time.  There will be no third Calamity."

✧☽☼☾✧

Only a few weeks ago, Ganon would not have given a single thought in a month to the Arbiter’s Grounds.  It was just a ruin in the desert, after all - unless some lizalfos attempted to take up residence there, it was of middling interest at best.  But for whatever reason, Kotake and Koume refused to train him anywhere else.  Today, once again under the unrelenting blaze of the sun while they reclined in what little shade they could find, he stood in silence at the exact centre of the ruins.  He could hear the world whispering.  Power crackled just beneath his skin, in every vein, thrumming out from his heart like pulsing waves.  

In a blink, he shifted from stillness to motion, lunging forward, weaponless, and drawing on the surging well within.  Light rushed through him, golden and burning and alive. It ripped out from his hands, crashed along the sand, and shattered one of the ancient arches before him.  Joy and fear twisted and mingled in his gut but he moved again, calling on magic time and time again.  The pillars of the Grounds began to blacken and crack under the ferocity of his assault, and sand rushed up in waves of lethally sharp glass, greenish-clear waves frozen in time.

“Good, my chief!”  Kotake cried. 

It tore at him, just beneath his skin.  He clutched it close and fought for control but the magic screamed and writhed in him like a serpent, like a furious lion.

“Again, again!”  Koume cheered.  “Strike!  For the Seven!  For the desert!”

He could not stop.  He had to master it, to control it.  It bit at him, ripped and clawed and fought for dominance against his will.

“Again!”

Light flared, surged.  He struck.

“Control, Ganondorf!  Bend it to your will!  Strike hard!”

The magic had a will of its own, vicious and untameable.  He struggled, wrangled it, tried to contain it–

– and it crackled back, racing up his arms and backfiring into his heart.  Like lightning, it seized every muscle in his body, gripping so tight he thought it might break his bones.  He let out a strangled cry.  The light faded, bursting out in a rush and dissipating into the air.  The pain stopped.  He staggered and stumbled to catch his balance.

“Lady Kotake… Lady Koume…”  he rasped.  The sand around him was no longer golden, but a blasted heath of black sand and green glass.  The ancient pillars and arches would bear these scars forevermore.  He trembled and wavered where he stood.  He could no longer lift his arms.  The sun was setting, casting his carnage and his teachers into deep shadow.  “I can’t… I need–”  

He fell to his knees with a grunt, panting hard.  Every breath felt like knives in his lungs.  His vision swam.  

A chill swept over him and he groaned with relief.  Kotake scurried out from the darkness, broom pointed in his direction.  From its bristles, a steady stream of frost emerged, dusting his sun-scorched skin and offering a reprieve.

“You did so well, my chief,” the witch crooned.  “Such a good student.  We knew you had it in you, didn’t we, Koume?”

“Yes, yes!” her twin nodded emphatically.  “Here, drink this…”

Koume handed him a bottled potion and he drank it without hesitation, though he could barely lift it to his lips.  Immediately, fire and ice surged and he coughed as energy flooded back into his exhausted limbs.

“Hah… thank you,” he murmured.  “But… I hope you’re not planning more today…”

The sisters looked at each other, then grinned and shook their heads in unison.  “No, Ganondorf,” they said.  “You are ready.”

“Ready?”  he blinked.  “Ready for what?  We’ve barely begun - I can’t control it!”

“To rule, boy! What else?”  Kotake laughed.

“Silly little Ganondorf,” Koume cackled.  “What else would you be ready for?” 

“Vabas, I already rule Gerudo,” he reminded them gently.  Truly, despite how quickly they had taught him to call upon his magic, he wasn’t sure they were always all there.  How old were they, anyway?  He would have to ask Lura.  Discreetly, of course. 

“Of course, boy, of course,” Kotake patted his arm as though he had said something naive, like a child.  “Up you get, now - it’s time to go home.”

He stifled a yawn.  About time.  “Yes… yes, it is time…”

As he rose, they hopped onto their brooms and rode them up to land on his shoulders, giggling like schoolgirls.  Their weight meant nothing to him, negligible as it was, but he grunted softly with surprise nonetheless. 

“Don’t mind us,” Koume cackled.  “Go on, take us home!”

Ganon laughed wearily and shook his head.  May as well indulge them, for all they’ve done for me…  

“You’re both lucky you’re so light…”

“And you’re lucky to have us for teachers!  Now march!”

That evening, as Gerudo Town fell into indigo twilight in the wake of the setting sun, a messenger arrived from Hyrule Castle. 

“A message for King Ganondorf,” she panted as she approached.  The vai at the gates leered at her from the shadows, judging her choice of attire rather harshly - the desert was no place for anything she wore.  The warrior, on the other hand, was perfect.  Split red-white hair and a corset was always in fashion.  “From Princess Zelda.  I must see him immediately.”

“Give it to me,” the warrior crooned.  The jewel on her brow - a chimeric ruby-sapphire combination - caught torchlight and glittered darkly.  “And I will see that he gets it.”

“The princess instructed me to give it only to him,” the messenger replied. “Please, let me pass.”

“Give us the message,” the warrior commanded, and her eyes glowed bright as she extended her hand.  The messenger’s face went slack and she placed the letter in the warrior’s hand without another argument.  

“Return to the castle,” the warrior said.  “You have given him your message.  The princess will be pleased.”

“The princess will be pleased…” the messenger mumbled, and she wandered off, back towards Kara Kara Bazaar.

“Perhaps she will be eaten by a lizalfo,” the vai muttered.  Then she laughed, and split down the middle, melting in twain until two little vai riding broomsticks were all that remained.

“What does that brat princess want, Kotake?”  Koume hissed.  Kotake tore the seal from the envelope under her sister’s viciously eager gaze.  “I sense she wishes to interfere!”

“A threat, Koume,” Kotake growled as she read the letter.  “She wants to warn him of a threat–!”  The ice witch cackled loudly.  “Far too late, little princess!  He is already ready!”

“Already ready…” Koume hummed.  “That sounds remarkably stupid.  Have you grown stupid, Kotake?”

“If I have, so have you!”  Kotake snapped.  “Wretched witch!”

“Useless hag!”

“Bitch sister!”

They stared at each other in silence, then burst into cackling laughter.  Their time was coming - they had nothing left but time.

They vanished in a flourish of red and blue smoke.  The guards, released from the hold of magical control, returned to their posts in a confused daze.

✧☽☼☾✧

All was quiet for a time.  Ganon continued to train with Kotake and Koume, though all who knew him side-eyed his exhausted state, his burns, his sluggishness.  Never would he brook judgement against Lura’s elderly grandmothers, though, and those concerned quickly learned to swallow their worries in his presence.

“I don’t like it,” Riju complained to Teake as they relaxed after a friendly sparring match.  Though their blades were dulled, their techniques were not, and both had worked hard enough to earn a hydromelon.  They sat at the ringside now, cracked-open fruit resting between them, letting the shade dry their sweat. 

“They are strange little witches, and why does no one but Lura know them?”

Teake shrugged.  “The whole thing is strange.  They are tiny and old - perhaps they spend all their time inside?  That, I could buy.  But such powerful witches?  How have they escaped notice this long?”

“My thoughts exactly!”  Riju sat bolt upright and leaned over, getting into Teake’s space a little in her eagerness.  “Where did they come from?  I’ve never heard anyone speak of such powerful witches in all of Gerudo!”

Before Teake could respond, a rumbling thrummed up from the earth beneath them.  The sound of drums, of galloping horses, of thunder, and every stone in Gerudo Town rattled.  On its pinnacle of stone, Vah Naboris let out an echoing bugle, both warning and challenge.  A cry went up from the marketplace, but as soon as the rumbling began, it was done.

“What by the Seven…?”  Teake rose to her feet and Riju wasn’t far behind her.  They rushed through the barracks and into the marketplace, into the core of the fearful uproar.

“What was that?”

“An earthquake?  We don’t get earthquakes out here–!”

“Is everyone alright?  Was anyone hurt?”

“Captain Teake, Lady Riju!  What was that?”

Everything was, as it seemed, fine enough.  A few jars had rattled off shelves and some fragile trinkets had broken, but as Riju and Teake made their way through the marketplace, they found no injury but fear.  Ganon and Urbosa joined them from the palace, flanked by Buliara.  

Riju stared at her brother as he made his way through the crowd.  In just a handful of weeks, those damned witches had stolen his fire and burned him with it.  He looked exhausted, gaunt and shadow-eyed, covered in sunburns and scorch marks, and if she paid close enough attention she was sure he was hiding a limp.  

I think I will have a word with his so-called teachers, she thought.  Oh, how she wanted to threaten them, but that was “unbecoming of the heir to the throne” or some such nonsense.  Since she could not strike them with lightning, she would simply have to discuss her concerns rationally.  Bah.

Still, despite his injuries, Ganon projected a very calming aura, just as steadfast and reliable as Urbosa.  The two of them together began to soothe fears Riju and Teake had barely begun to touch.  It didn’t take long before the uproar had begun to settle.

Motion caught Riju’s attention from her periphery.  She turned just in time to see a team of scouts skid to a stop, leaping from their sand seals and bolting through the gates in a dead panic.  

“Make way!”  The leader cried.  “Out of the way!  Where is King Ganon?”

It wasn’t as if Ganon wasn’t noticeable in that crowd - he towered over nearly everyone.  He turned and the scout crashed into his arms.

“Easy, friend, easy,” he said as she struggled to speak.  “Breathe…”

“The ground,” she rasped.  The eyes of all the crowd were on her.  “The highlands–!  The stone opened and fell away!  We were nearly swallowed whole!”

Another cry echoed through the marketplace and terrified murmuring began to ripple through the crowd again, fear picking up where it had left off.  Even Riju felt a chill.  The ground… opened…?

 Buliara whispered something in Ganon’s ear and he nodded.  

“Calm, all of you!  Calm!”  he cried.  His voice cut through the chaos and confusion and all eyes turned to him again.  “We do not know enough to fear.  We will investigate and protect ourselves.  For now, stay within the walls of Gerudo Town.  Captain Teake, send the fastest seal rider to Kara Kara Bazaar to check on our sisters there.  Buliara, have your soldiers patrol the walls, watch for any changes.  Urbosa, Riju, with me.”  And when he swept away, keeping the terrified scout close to his side, Riju could almost believe he wasn’t in any pain at all.  The marketplace burst into activity again in his wake.

“You heard your king,” Buliara cried.  “Soldiers, with me!”

“Meara!” Teake called, already striding towards the seal pens.  “Is Chaser ready to ride…?”

Riju followed Ganon back into the palace, where they settled the scout in a comfortable corner on a pile of cushions.  Water was brought, pitchers and fine goblets, and they sat around like friends, as though they weren’t about to discuss whatever terrors the poor vai had seen on patrol.

“Now,” Ganon said gently, after a long sip of water.  The scout drank a little, then stared at her glass with wide eyes, no longer terrified but still visibly shaken.  “Tell us what you saw.  What happened out there?”

The scout gulped and clutched her cup a little tighter.  “We were patrolling Palu Wastelands,” she said.  “We left our seals and climbed up the cliffs over the East Ruins, under Vah Naboris.  And… and then the ground, it–!”  She gulped and began to shake again.  Urbosa reached out and laid a hand on the girl’s arm.

“Take your time,” the Champion told her.  “Whatever time you need.”

The scout drank deeply, then continued in a low, rasping voice.  “The cliffs opened under us and fell away.  We nearly fell in.  It was pitch black down there, and writhing with something red and horrible–!  Vah Naboris was screaming–  we came back here as fast as we could.”

Ganon quickly set his goblet aside.  Riju’s eyes widened slightly as she saw why he set it strategically behind a cushion: it was dented in the shape of his fingers.

“The ground opened?”  Urbosa was asking.  “Like a sinkhole?”

“Worse,” the scout moaned.  “It was huge, and it went down forever and ever!  So deep it swallowed the light!  I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Thank you for bringing this to us,” Ganon said, and his voice was low, soft - he seemed at ease, but Riju could hear the tension in him.  “Please, rest here as long as you wish, then return to your family.  Stay within the walls.  We’ll figure this out.”

“Yes, my chief,” the scout mumbled.  She took a deep drink of water and shuddered.  “Thank you, my chief…”

After making sure the scout was comfortable and beginning to relax, Ganon, Urbosa, and Riju slipped away to Ganon’s chambers upstairs to discuss the matter further.

“Whatever that was, it opened far too close to Naboris for comfort,” Urbosa said, tapping her knuckle lightly against her chin.  “Perhaps I should move it…”

“Not yet,” Ganon replied.  “Naboris’s position is strategic - it should remain, if possible.  Perhaps this is just a sinkhole.  If it is, we can leave it alone.”

“It sounded a lot worse than that,” Riju chimed in.  “Some giant black pit in the cliffside?  That’s no sinkhole I’ve ever heard of.”

Ganon sighed.  “Yes, Riju, but I’m trying to stay optimistic.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged gently, eyes squeezed shut.  “Give me this, won’t you…?”

“We should investigate,” Urbosa hummed.  “Not just scouts - I want to see this thing first hand.”

“Agreed,” Ganon nodded.  “Riju, you will stay here and take care of things in our absence.”

“What??”  Riju’s eyes flew wide and she grabbed his wrist.  “You can’t leave me behind and go off to investigate some terrible danger alone!”

“I won’t be alone,” he replied simply.  “I’ll have Urbosa, and we’ll have our sand seals.”

“But you can’t–!”

“Riju,” Urbosa said gently.  “Nothing will happen.  We will be quick, and we will be safe.  This I promise.  But we need you here to lead in our absence.  We won’t be gone long, but Gerudo Town will need someone to look to.  I know you understand…”

Riju fought for an argument, jaw working silently, then she huffed, crossed her arms, and nodded.  “Very well.  I understand.”  And she did, damn them both.  Buliara and Teake were good leaders, but they were leaders of soldiers, not citizens, and Riju was the heir.  It was her duty to take care of things while Ganon and Urbosa were gone.  “I will keep Gerudo Town from burning down behind you.”

✧☽☼☾✧

The sand rushed up in waves at his sides.  His seal and shield carved a gouge in the desert, a gently swaying squiggle from Gerudo Town towards the East Ruins.  He didn’t want to do this.  He didn’t want to deal with any of this.  Couldn’t any of them see how tired he was?  He felt raw, burned out to his very core, but he couldn’t stop.  He was the king, and that meant doing what needed to be done, always.  He couldn’t disappoint them.  He couldn’t fail them.  He couldn’t.

As they rode, he replayed their last moments at the east gates in his head, letting his mind wander just a little.

“You are going to see the sinkhole?”  Kotake asked.  The twins had appeared from nowhere, almost as if they had been waiting in the wings.  “Good, that’s good!  A good king should always know all that occurs in his kingdom!”

“We will await your return most eagerly!”  Koume grinned.  Both witches seemed more excited than he had ever seen them, even moreso than when he had summoned his first energy bolt, he thought.

“Thank you, Vabas,” he replied.  “We will be back soon.  Please, go home.  You’ll be more comfortable there.”

“We?”  They spoke in unison - jarringly so.  “Who is we?”

“I am going with him, of course,” Urbosa replied. 

“No!”  The witches cried.  “You cannot!  This is King Ganondorf’s mission, no one else’s!  Stay back, girl!”

Urbosa’s lip curled.  “Do you presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, ladies?”  she asked.  Ganon knew that tone, and he grimaced.  

“Urbosa, it’s alright,” he said, intervening before her usually stable temper could turn to lightning,  “Lady Kotake and Lady Koume mean no disrespect.”

“No, no, of course not,” Kotake crooned.  “Our apologies, Champion Urbosa.  Of course you should go along.”

“Yes, yes, our apologies,” Koume whined.  They bowed and backed up into Gerudo Town.  “Keep him safe for us!”

“Thank you, ladies,” Ganon said.  “Urbosa, let’s go.”

As they left, Ganon heard one last quip from his teachers and winced.  Hopefully Urbosa didn’t hear them.

“Perhaps she’ll fall in, eh Kotake?”

Kotake cackled wildly.  “What a treat that would be, Koume!”

They arrived beneath Spectacle Rock just as the sun began to fall from its peak.  Heatwaves rippled off sand and stone alike, creating liquid mirages, but they ignored them and moved on.  They left their seals where sand turned to stone and began a hike up the long incline to their goal.  The scout had said the sinkhole was up here somewhere, and that it was quite large… but where?

Up and up they walked.  Just above them, looming from its heights overlooking the desert, Vah Naboris, stared unblinking towards Hyrule Castle, where only seven years before it had shot raw energy into the very heart of the Demon King.

Despite his gratitude for the chance it had helped to give him, Ganon’s blood still cooled at the sight of it.

“Ganon?”  Urbosa asked.  “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he replied.  “Come on - It’s this way, I think.”  He made his way up the path, and soon enough they found their way to the target.

The earth fell away in a vast pit in Vah Naboris’s shadow, and from the pit had spewed noxious red-black ooze.  Though the day was hot and the sky bright, this great blight on the desert made the world feel cold and dark and endlessly frightening.

This was no sinkhole, this was a chasm.

“By the Seven…”  Urbosa said, recoiling from the raw evil that had apparently bored its way out of the earth.  “What is it?”

“Malice.”  Ganon’s voice was bleak, and his expression worse.  “I thought we had done away with this…”

“What could have caused it?  Demise was defeated - there should be nothing of him left.”

“And yet monsters still roam Hyrule,” he replied.  “Rare, but they’re still there.  And I still stand.”

Urbosa grimaced and laid her hand on Ganon’s arm.  “Stop that.  You and he are not the same.  You never were.”

He did not look at her, focused instead on the faintly-pulsating mass of hatred-made-slime before them.  “If it is not connected to me, why can I… hear it?”

She blinked.  “Hear it?  What do you mean?”

“It whispers…” he said as the world seemed to shimmer and darken around him.  He took a step forward, pulling away from her, and she grabbed at his arm again in vain.

“Ganon!  Ganon, stop!”

But despite her best efforts, he stepped right up to the edge of the malice, feeling as if he floated, watching himself extend a hand as ooze rose up in a slimy tendril.  Urbosa cried out in horror and disgust and slashed at the tendril with her scimitar as it became a hand, but where the blade touched shadowy flesh, it hissed and sizzled and crumbled with decay.  She leapt back to defend herself, and the oozing hand gripped Ganon’s.  

Agony.  Fire and ice and lightning crashing through his veins, through overtaxed flesh.  Where his magic, his light, had before sung with power and joy, now it screamed and crackled, adding to his pain.

He cried out as malice flooded into him, and Urbosa quickly grabbed his other arm again.  With all her might she pulled him back, and this time he came back to himself enough to move with her.  Finally, the ooze snapped like brittle leather, and they fell back onto safe, untainted stone.  Ganon, mind clearing, lunged to claw the remains off his wrist, but it was gone, melting into his skin as though it had always been a part of him.  He stared at the spot where it had disappeared in horror, panting and wide-eyed.

“Goddess no…” he rasped.  “Not again… please, no….”

“Let’s go.”  Urbosa was on her feet in a flash, tugging at his arm to drag him with her.  “Back to town.  We can speak to a healer–”

“No!”  He snapped.  Then softer.  “No.  No, this is not something a healer can fix.”  There were voices in his head now, distant and faded, as though he listened to a crowd from across a ballroom.  “We will go back, but we will say nothing.  You will say nothing.  You will pretend like nothing is wrong.”

“Ganon, I don’t think–”

“The last thing anyone needs is another threat on top of this!” he snapped.  “I– I think it is high time I visited my sister.  I've hardly seen her since the wedding.  A break would do me good.”

He softened, started to reach for Urbosa’s hands, then pulled back, afraid to touch her.  He started walking instead, eager to get far away from the malice-soaked chasm.  “My magic is getting stronger and stronger, and Kotake and Koume…”  he shook his head.  “... I don’t know that they can help me control it properly.”

Urbosa’s eyes widened.  “But you said–!”

“I know.  I’m sorry.  I honestly thought they were helping, but all they’ve done is unlock raw potential with so little control.  They mean well, but their help only goes so far.  I will ride to Hyrule Castle at dawn.  Zelda will help me.  If she can’t…” he shrugged.  “Then I suppose it will be best to be surrounded by heroes and soldiers if it all goes wrong.”

They walked back to the seals in tense, gloomy silence, leaving the chasm’s black maw in the earth behind.  Whatever it was, it was a thing of evil.  Whatever it was, it called to the former vessel of the Demon King.

Zelda would know what to do.