Chapter Text
Selwyn Hallowell, senior member and blademaster of the Royal Guard, stood at parade rest against the wall of the Temple of Time, along with five other members of the Royal Guard – three on each side of the building – and two more at the doors, the rest arrayed in the courtyard outside making sure they weren’t disturbed. King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule knelt at the base of the stairs leading up to the Goddess Statue, with the High Priestess of the temple, and elderly Hylian by the name of Mylle, standing a respectable distance away from the King, her white hair hanging down to her mid-back in intricate braids.
Golden sunlight streamed in through the large windows, one of the beams landing squarely on Princess Zelda where she, and her governess Mrs. Godfrey, stood behind the king, the afternoon sunlight turning the soon-to-be-ten-years-old Princess’ golden hair and white dress radiant, as though the divinity contained within her skin was leaking out.
There was no one else in the Temple, allowing King Rhoam to set aside his titles and just be a man as he prayed to the Mother Goddess, rather than as Regent-King of Hyrule.
Out of respect for his King Selwin didn’t listen to his prayer, despite the King’s voice echoing though the temple, instead allowing his eyes to roam and his thoughts to wander.
Today marked the fifth anniversary of Queen Zelda’s death at the hands of the Yiga, and almost a full year since the impending return of the Calamity was confirmed beyond reasonable doubt, though that information was still restricted to only the King’s inner council… and the Sheikah, who had investigated and brought them proof. No need to cause a panic among the commoners or nobility just yet… though neither were blind. Between the escalating activity of Death Mountain, then increasingly frequent and severe monster incursions, the awakening of ancient and forgotten things in the hidden and secret corners of Hyrule… it was becoming more and more obvious to everyone that the end of an age was approaching. The time of secrecy was almost over, but King Rhoam wanted to have something he could use to reassure the queendom before he confirmed the rumors rapidly spreading through bars, taverns, and noble estates.
As the King finished and stood, intending to step away so that the Princess could approach, a pulse of magic rippled through the temple, causing everyone to freeze even as their gazes snapped to the Goddess Statue. The statue was definitely glowing, the goddess’ smile seemed to widen into a smirk-
With a ripping sound akin to tearing cloth a rift of pure light tore open at the statue’s feet, just in front of the altar, which was a replica of the Master Sword (it was not the actual Master Sword, they’d checked) imbedded into a trapezoid of granite emblazoned with the golden Triforce.
Selwyn drew his longsword alongside the rest of the Guard, the six of them rushing forwards to interpose themselves between the royal family and the rift as the two by the door sprinted to cover their rear, even as a silhouette emerged, form completely obscured by the blinding light to the point where even general shape could not be determined.
Then, just as suddenly it appeared, the rift vanished, leaving everyone blinking sun spots out of their eyes.
The first thing Selwyn noticed, aside from green, was that the intruder was very definitely not hylian. He was tall, easily over six foot and possibly pushing seven, his body covered in short green-gray fur, a short snout, long, pointed, almost feline ears, similar to a hylian’s but furry and clearly moveable as his were quickly twitching to and fro. Vibrantly red hair fell to his mid-back, while shockingly blue eyes analyzed them with celerity, a twitch drawing attention to his fingers, which were tipped with small, likely sharp claws, and from beneath his sarong came a tail tipped with a thick tuft of red fur that was flicking back and forth, alongside digitigrade legs complete with large, clawed paws.
Atop his forehead, holding his hair in place, was a golden circlet studded with diamonds while his torso was protected by segmented bands of a green metal inlayed with dark brass over a blue tunic, armored tassels made of the same metal covering a tan sarong embroidered with golden triforces along the bottom edge and trimmed in red fabric. His arms were protected by gauntlets from wrist to elbow, pauldrons shielding his shoulders and upper arm, both covered in geometric embellishments, dark brass on green, just like his chest piece, with fingerless gloves made of some dark material stretching back over his forearms. Greaves, of the same make and design as his gauntlets, guarded his shins from knee to ankle, with leather sandals protecting the arc and pads of his feet. Hanging from his belt on his right hip was a rectangular object of dark blue and gold, on his other side hung eight small cylinders filled with luminescent teal liquid connected to a segmented strip of brass and veridian, while poking over his right shoulder was the iconic hilt of the Master Sword, though Selwyn couldn’t tell if it was the actual Sacred Blade as there were quite a few copies of the relic in circulation. Finally, a large quiver filled with arrows was strapped to his waist and a rucksack to his back.
“Identify yourself,” King Rhoam barked, “Do you serve the Goddess or Calamity?”
The cat-man raised his hands and began to sign in Hylian Standard Sign.
Do you understand sign?
“Everyone here understands sign, now answer the question,” the King of Hyrule answered severely.
I am Link, L-I-N-K, of the Wilds, also known as Link of the Great Plateau. The cat-man, Link, signed, using a combination of the signs “wilds” and “hero” as his personal sign, then slightly cocked his head in curiosity. Do Calamity’s cultists really identify themselves on demand?
Oh, Selwyn dearly wished they did, it would make his job so much easier.
“…Not usually, no,” the King admitted.
Then why ask? He asked.
King Rhoam was spared the embarrassment of responding when the Princess abruptly spoke.
“Father…”
“Not now Zelda.”
“Father, he’s the Hero! I can feel it!”
There was a pause as everyone turned to look at Link, and he responded by carefully reaching back and, with two fingers, drawing his sword several inches, revealing a blade glowing with sacred power. Then, in case that wasn’t enough proof, he unbuckled and pulled off his right gauntlet, showing the back of his hand, and the triforce glowing through the fur, to everyone.
There wasn’t quite a sigh of relief, but I, and the rest of the Guard, lowered our weapons, though we didn’t sheath them. Just in case.
“…I was under the impression that the Hero was usually of age with the Princess,” the King said carefully, “Has something happened?”
Not as far as I know, the Hero replied, The Hero of this era should be fine. I’m his successor, from just over a hundred years in in the future.
“A hundred years…” King Rhoam said slowly, “…between so few years having passed and your… appearance and presence here… I take it we lose?”
Selwyn stiffened, a pit of lead pooling in his gut, and he heard the shifting and clink of metal as other guards did the same. He hadn’t thought of the implications of Link’s arrival yet, but the King was right. Even ignoring how the last time the Calamity was put down for ten thousand years, the previous cycles would see hundreds of years pass between its appearances in different forms, not a mere century. Combined with how all previous Heros were Hylian and the Link in front of them distinctly wasn’t… were there no Hylians left for the Hero to incarnate from?
Zelda successfully sealed the Calamity, Link signed, ears and tail drooping, but the queendom never recovered, and despite killing Calamity twice I wasn’t able to keep what was left from falling apart. He wilted. I’m sorry. I failed.
The silence that fell over the temple was almost ringing in how absolute it was.
Twice. Link had faced Calamity twice, which meant it attacked three times in, at most, a mere hundred-fifty years.
No wonder everything fell apart for him.
“I see,” King Rhoam said, subdued, “…The Goddess wouldn’t send you here if She didn’t think we had a chance, so before we return to the castle to begin planning I have one more question. I do not recognize your species, what are you?”
Half Zonai, half Hylian, Link replied, I don’t know anything else about my parentage however, other than I’m not of Rauru and Sonia’s line like the Royal Family is. I was raised by a wolf and a ghost among the wilds and ruins of the Great Plateau, hence my epithet.
“I’m part Zonai?” Zelda piped up curiously.
Link chuffed, clearly amused. Very, very distantly, he signed, Hyrule’s first king, Rauru, was Zonai, the first queen, Sonia, was the great-granddaughter of the first Zelda, who was Hylia Reborn.
“Cool!” she cheered, then paused and added, “Does that mean I’m going to grow up to be big and fuzzy like you?”
“Princess!” Mrs. Godfrey hissed, but Link just softly laughed, revealing his teeth had more in common with a cat or wolf than a Hylian.
Unfortunately not, he signed, letting out a brief rumbling purr, but you’ll be magnificent none-the-less.
“Aww,” Zelda said sadly, disappointed.
“We need to leave soon if we are to make it to Gatepost Town before nightfall,” King Rhoam said, “Everyone fall in, you too Hero. I want to get back to the Castle as soon as possible so we can start planning. Hyrule will not fall this time,” he vowed.
~~~Victory Wasn’t Enough~~~
Link followed the Royal Procession out of the Temple, having only restrained himself at the last moment from falling in at Zelda’s side as, recognized Hero or not, he doubted having an unknown so close to the Princess would be appreciated by the Royal Guard (he certainly wouldn’t in their place), but it still burned.
For eight years, ever since they had dealt with the Calamity, his place had been at Zelda’s side, and to not retake it felt wrong. But this Zelda was not his Zelda, who had died in the fires of Kakariko, holding the line against impossible odds as the last survivors of Hyrule fled though the path she had ordered him to cut though the monster horde.
He also still wasn’t accustomed to looking down at everyone, despite six months having passed since his transformation, though considering his only company during that time was Purah and Mineru he supposed that was more understandable, even if seeing the top of Rhoam’s head was still odd.
The extra height was probably Mineru’s doing though, Hylia seemed to have a thing for short heroes.
Not that Link was going to complain, aside from his (not so hidden) glee at not being the shortest non-child in the room anymore, the extra reach his height afforded him was invaluable in combat, as, as he had quickly learned back when he was recovering from the Shrine of Resurrection, he who scores the first hit usually wins the fight. Which was why, unlike his predecessors, he preferred the bow and the spear over the sword, the extra range had been vital to surviving those early days, and by the time he had recovered the Master Sword and his strength his fighting style had been set.
The way the scars of his first death (that the Shrine hadn’t been able to fix, due to being low on power, material, and ten thousand years without maintenance, despite the best efforts of the Sheikah scientists to restore it before Calamity hit) painfully restricted the mobility of his arms and torso also limited his ability to wield a blade.
That, and the other scars he’d collected over time, hadn’t stopped him from killing Calamity and then Gannondorf, but after picking up a whole new batch of injuries after finally dealing with that fucking golden lynel and scattering its horde (even if it had been too late to save anyone by then) no one, from him to Purah to Hylia Herself, had been confident in his ability to go through this shit again, given how badly damaged his body had been.
Hence why he had agreed to permanently transforming himself into the Hero’s Aspect in order to get rid of the damage.
He hadn’t regretted it. He even had his right arm back, and it was truly his arm now, not Rauru’s.
No longer would he have to keep track of where he left it when he took it off because his stump was hurting.
As Link passed through the doors of the Temple of Time he paused at the precipice, taking in the sight. He’d known that the Temple had once been the heart of a complex – the ruins of the three chapels dedicated to the Golden Goddesses proved that – but seeing it whole, intact, and populated…
The stonework of the courtyard gleamed. Carefully trimmed trees and bushes lined paths that had been ruined by Guardian blasts and feet. Wooden buildings – whose ruins had been swallowed by the wilds to the point no trace remained by Link's time – ringed the chapels, simple in design yet clearly well built and cared for, undoubtedly accommodations for the priests and pilgrims to the temples. He could hear the chatter of numerous people, droned into incomprehensibility through their multitude and his lack of focus, smell the burning of wood, the cooking of food, and… other, less pleasant smells of civilization.
“Sir Link?”
“Mrrp?” He trilled as he turned to look at the Royal Guard who had addressed him. For some reason he looked and smelled familiar, but whatever lost memory it was tickling didn’t reveal itself to him.
“Is everything alright?” the Guard asked.
Just processing, Link signed, this was all ruins in my time, lost and overgrown. He tilted his head. Also, sir?
“By law, once the Hero is recognized by the monarch he is automatically granted a honorary knight title,” he explained, “It’s to allow you to commandeer and direct soldiers in the field as needed, though if you use it His Majesty is going to want a report on what happened and why.”
Link nodded to show he understood.
“Anyway,” the Guard continued, “given that Mis Majesty came to pray for guidance, not a Hero, we don’t have a horse for you, so we’re currently debating who gets to double up as you’re a bit too large to ride along.”
Tell them that’s not necessary, Link replied, I came prepared. Just need some space to summon it.
“I… see? What are you going to summon?”
Zonai Cycler.
“I don’t know what that is.”
I’ll show you. Where are the stables?
“This way.”
As Link followed the Guard through the temple complex he could tell the exact moment when people spotted him, as conversations abruptly ceased only to restart after he passed, almost universally filled with questions such as “who is that” “what is that” and “where did he come from”.
It was to be expected, Zonai were completely unknown in this time period, but that didn’t stop the tension from building in his shoulders nor his ears slowly sliding down. The one good thing about his previously short stature was that it made it easy to hide, either behind objects or people, but with him now a foot and a half taller than most Hylians that wasn’t an option anymore.
Thankfully the stables weren’t far, and while they were just as crowded with stablehands and guards getting the Royal party’s horses ready to depart, they were focused on their jobs, not on him.
Finding an open space next to the cobbled road leading away from the temple he pulled out the Pad and, with speed borne of long experience, summoned the Zonai Cycler in a flash of Sheikah blue.
The Zonai Cycler was effectively the Master Cycle Zero – which had been destroyed by falling debris when Gannondorf tried to turn Hyrule Castle into his own flying island – rebuilt with Zonai technology, and was right at the upper limit of what Sheikah Slates could store due to the extra armor added to make it “Link-proof". Purah’s modifications to the Pad did not increase that particular limit, had the Cycler been any bigger it would have needed to have its tires removed to get it to fit. It wasn’t an exact replica of course, ignoring the aesthetic differences from the different technology base and armored frame, the Master Cycle's combustion chamber had been swapped out for a Zonaite energy cell, similar to the one on Link's belt but scaled up.
Purah and Robbie had been so proud to gift it to him on the anniversary of Gannondorf’s defeat, having spent most of a year designing and building it with Mineru’s help.
Reaching over Link flicked the Master On switch, and the Cycler let out a faint whirr, as well as a few clicks and pops, as it went through a brief self-check, a green light appearing next to the instrument cluster a second later.
“That's so cool!” a girl cried out, and Link looked up to see Zelda rushing over, a mildly exasperated older woman following in her wake.
“What is it? Are those tires? Do you ride it like a horse? How does it move?”
Link couldn’t help but purr fondly as he listened to Zelda happily babble away as she puzzled out his Cycler, even managing to correctly identify several components, such as the energy cell.
“I’m sorry about this,” the woman murmured to him.
I don’t mind, Link replied, still purring, as he felt his ear instinctively swivel towards heavy footsteps that were approaching.
“That is not Sheikah tech,” Rhoam said, looking over the Cycler as the woman attempted to corral Zelda away from her object of interest, to her displeasure.
It’s Zonai tech, Link told him, most Sheikah tech was derived from it.
Though, as the Sheikah Slates proved, the Sheikah hadn’t been content to “merely” reverse-engineer the various Zonai devices they’d found, making a multitude of impressive advancements on their own merits, though their lack of access to Zonaite meant that the Zonai were still superior in several areas.
“I see. Do you know where to find more?”
Yes. Getting it will not be easy though.
“If it was easy the caches would have already been found and looted,” Rhoam grumbled, “but as much as I want to question you further it’d be pointless to do so before we return to the castle. We’d just have to go through everything again.”
“Father!” Zelda came bounding over, once pristine white dress now with grass stains on the knees, “Father, could I please ride with Hero Link? Please?”
I could throw together a sidecar easily enough, Link offered.
“I would prefer to not trust my daughter’s safety to something cobbled together in the field,” the King demurred, “Not today, Zelda.”
“Aww,” Zelda whined, disappointed.
Sorry, little one, Link signed as she let herself be led away by her minder, Maybe next time.
“We need to get moving,” Rhoam said after glancing at the sun’s position, turning back to his horse, a large dappled stallion, and bellowing, “Mount up! We ride in ten!”
Link quickly slid astride the Cycler, long habit seeing him automatically unspool a retractable powercable from his energy cell and plugging it into the Cycler, allowing the two devices to share power. Lightly opening the throttle he maneuvered to place himself alongside the middle of the forming column outside the cordon of Royal Guard, waving them off when they tried to open up a space for him in their formation. If the convoy came under attack – an admittedly unlikely scenario, but Link hadn’t survived this long without a healthy dash of paranoia – then he wanted the freedom to maneuver.
A short while later and the convoy was traveling down the road at a brisk trot, Link effortlessly keeping pace. This wasn’t the first time he had escorted a convoy – far from it – but it took effort to maintain his position rather than roam out in front as he usually did. He wanted to make a good impression on Rhoam, after all.
About half an hour in the light wind shifted, bringing a familiar, and highly unwelcome, scent to his nose.
Bokoblins.
Only a few, but like hell was he letting them get anywhere near Zelda.
Standing on the Cycler’s footrests he sniffed the air, eyes and ears scanning, ignoring the murmurs his actions caused among the convoy.
There. A patch of long grass that wasn’t moving correctly with the wind, and with his ears trained towards it he could hear familiar faint grunting.
Link instantly opened throttle, the Cycler’s motors spinning up to a dull scream as they went to full power, the Zonai device surging under him. Ignoring the yelps of surprise from the convoy he veered away from the road towards the threat, hopping up so that his paws were crouched under him on the Cycler’s seat as he drew the Master Sword with his right hand, divine blade shining brilliantly in the sunlight, glowing teal Zonai script running down the length of the blade.
Then, when he reached the optimal distance, he leapt, secure in the knowledge that without a rider the Cycler would automatically bring itself to a stop. As he reached the apex of his flight, the world slowed at the command of the Hero of the Goddess of Time, giving him plenty of opportunity to observe his prey.
Three red bokoblins stared up at him, eyes wide, two with crude clubs, one with a spear.
Nothing that could be a threat, or even an inconvenience, to him.
Time resumed.
Link let out a roaring snarl. The bokoblins screamed in unholy terror as he landed amongst them.
Three seconds, a flurry of slashes, and a few flying limbs later, it was all over.
Flicking his sword to clear it of excess blood – the rest sizzling away to leave the Sacred Blade pristine – he ignored the six Royal Guards thundering towards him with weapons drawn as well as the controlled chaos from the rest of the Guard to catch Zelda’s eye.
Would the Princess be interested in learning how to harvest fresh elixir ingredients? He asked.