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Some said there was a traveler who roamed Hyrule, a survivalist who would vanish into the wilderness for weeks at a time, only to emerge with the scars of new battles, gems, dragon scales, and weapons built from the kingdom’s mechanical horrors. They said he was an explorer who found ruins and ancient monuments, a warrior who fought monsters and brought down nightmares, a madman who surfed down Hebra Peak and rode lynels, a figure who vanished into the depths of the countless ancient shrines and emerged with more lifeforce in his veins.

They said his name was Link.



Some said Link was a Champion, a Hero of a hundred years past, risen again to fight the Calamity. They said he wielded the Master Sword, the Sword that Seals the Darkness, the Demon’s Bane, the Champion’s Blade. He took back the Divine Beasts from where they stalked and left destruction, old signals still echoing within…  

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They said he was allies and friends with all the chieftains and leaders of Hyrule’s many clans. A Hylian by blood and a Sheikah by skill. A Zora by marriage and a Rito by adoption. A brother to the Gorons and sister to the Gerudo. 



Some said Link’s injuries were far too quick to heal. He had once been seen walking with a deep gash in his side that should have left him for dead, yet he seemed to notice nothing of it. Another had sworn Link had stood right next to an explosion that incinerated a bokoblin, yet afterwards Link stood up, as if he had only been pushed over. 

They said he was even brought back from death, the ghostly green fires of spirits winding around him as injuries healed and strength was restored.



Some said Link’s eyes glowed in the color of the ancient shrines. It was an electric blue that chilled you to the bone, the feeling of your very soul being examined as the one behind those eyes judged your worth. If you met him in the night, his eyes continued to glow that unnatural blue. They said, if you looked close enough, you could see that same color run right through his veins. 



Some said Link was a Seer of Ghosts. He spoke to air, speaking the names of the long dead. He would stare into the distance, eyes tracking something only he could see, watching the lingering memories of a century ago still cling to the world. They said that transparent glowing figures would dance around his form, giving him skills said to belong to the Champions of the Calamity, knowledge that none but the dead should have.



Some said Link knew too much for someone who remembered so little. They said he had amnesia, with only a handle of memories and echoes to his name, glimpses into a past of Before. Yet, for someone who had no memories, he knew so much. He knew the name of every person in Hyrule, from the youngest to the oldest, from shopkeepers to travelers to clan leaders. He knew stories of places that seemed outlandish, yet ones that seemed to ring with truth. A great promenade and forgotten temple, the ghosts of an age when Hylians lived above the clouds. They said he walked through, remembering the ghosts of his past.



Some said Link’s screams could leave you paralyzed with fear. He had once stumbled into Hateno, eyes wide with a deep, bone-chilling agony. That night the village had awoken to his screams, night terrors making themselves known. The screams may have been from nightmares, but they were those of a dying man. Someone who threw every last scrap of energy into crying out their pain before oblivion took them. No one was sure if the fear they felt at those screams was Link’s, or their own.



Some said Link was a child of the Spirits. They said he had ridden the Lord of the Mountain, the two-faced God of Wilds that brought thunder in its wake, then slept among the Lord’s small messengers, rabbits with the faces of owls and horns made of laurel. They said he restored the Great Faeries, bringing them offerings of riches and power until their flowers bloomed wide once more, and that he bartered with the God of Horses, a deity with governance of Death and Life, spoke to them as an old friend and named them Malayna. 

They said Link flew alongside the great Dragons, freed Wisdom from it’s corruption, and was gifted their scales, horns and talons. He flew alongside them until they vanished into the uncharted sky (and then he followed them there too, to floating isles and the realm of spirits)

They said he was a Seer of the Forest Children, playing their games and solving their riddles. He was said to traverse the Lost Woods, moving through a cursed fog that embraced him as a friend and child and not an enemy, until he emerged into its sacred heart. They said he Saw, when others did not.



Some said Link was of the Wilds. They said the Spirits called him Wildling, that he was an entity of Death and Life roaming a land much the same. They said he held the strength of mountains in marrow, the crackling of thunder in his veins, the howling winds in his stride. They said he awoke from Death, woven from the firmament of Life. 

He roamed over a world covered in forests and mountains, with Spirits and Demons hiding among cliffs and rivers. The skeletons of great Leviathans bore tales of an age long past, the hole burned through a mountain, a story no one knew.



Some said Link was a little bit Eldritch, a little bit up and to the left of the plane they perceived. They said he was dead and reborn, the child of spirits, reformed by ancients. They all agreed he had several quirks to his name. Yet, they also agreed that they did not care. Link was their neighbor, friend, helper, savior, Champion, Hero. Should he be an Undead or a Wilding, it did not matter.

In the end, he was Link.