Chapter Text
The rancher’s Hyrule was overrun with black-blooded monsters. Near and far, wherever Legend dared to look, there was more. In his chest, his heart pounds with exertion. The tear in his side makes itself more known to him the longer it goes untreated. But his bag doesn’t hold any potions, and it’s nothing to run to the traveller about, wherever his successor may be.
It’s getting hard to keep up with the crowd–the team’s regular formation had fallen apart by the sheer number of monsters appearing. Legend doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many at once, and this is adventure number seven. In the back of his mind, something panics about that. Being overrun like this is less than ideal. When one monster was felled, two more appeared, being warped by dark magic. Nevermind that black blood only made them stronger.
Every once in a while, Legend’s hand would reach up to his medallions, before jerking away. Any one of them would help take out the numbers significantly, but they were much too dangerous to use with the others nearby. Forget the fact that it would completely drain his magic supply, if anyone were in the radius, they would be affected too. Legend doesn’t even know what their positions are.
He couldn’t afford to use the medallions, so he substitutes for other magical items in his possession.
“Vet! Seven o’clock!” Warriors yelled behind him. Legend froze a moblin mid lunge. Then pierced its gut with the Tempered Sword, effectively shattering the ice. It squirmed and made a grab for his head, to which Legend responded with a kick and an ice beam to the infested wound. This time, when he swings, the moblin is effectively shattered along with the ice. “Go help–” the captain’s voice pauses and Legend risks a glance to see the blue scarfed man skewering a tektite. “--help the sailor! Hyrule can’t get to him.”
Well, shit, Legend thinks promptly. That probably says something about the state the sailor is in.
They were unprepared for this fight, that much is prevalent–Legend doesn't even have his shield; thus, the duel wielding. But, Wind had a sprained wrist to begin with, having fallen on it. And this fight was continuing to drag on. It was grueling, the hours going by drenched in the scent of blood and sweat. Legend’s sense of coordination has long degraded, so it takes a moment to turn down the instincts and navigate the battlefield.
He yells for the captain to cover him and doesn’t wait for a reply, forming icicles to fall over the enemies in his path to skirt around their frozen statues. Wind isn’t far– his bright blue tunic stands out against Faron Woods’ dim green and browns.
“Sailor!” The ice is becoming harder to keep up. It is shattering much too soon for his liking and Legend’s vision swims. He still pulls the magic out anyway, channeling it through the rod.
Getting closer, he begins to see the situation Wind is in. The younger Hero is surrounded and without a shield–though it is broken instead of forgotten entirely. Its ripped straps are still attached to his arm. A boomerang is pinched in his working hand, posed to throw, and the Phantom Sword held incorrectly in his splintered one.
The boy’s expression is concentrated, but it breaks when Legend yells and he looks over. Mistake . Wind’s blue eyes shine with recognition, but now he doesn’t see the monster charging right behind. ( Mistake. But, whether it is Legend’s or Wind’s, he can’t say .)
Legend shouts, “look out–”
A large club sweeps out Wind’s legs. Legend watches the other’s face contort in pain as he crumbles to the ground and–
No! –
A portal speaking of the Goddess swirls beneath his feet. Legend’s foot steps onto nothing and the air catches in his lungs.
The sight of Faron Woods stained with foul beasts melts away as the ground disappears. The air whips at him before abruptly stopping, churning his empty stomach along with it. Legend loses his footing as he falls, ice rod slipping from his hands as he impacts the earth. His joints ache as he pants, the adrenaline causing tremors in his hands and his heart to pound.
The sound of weapons clashing and battlefield cries are gone. But–
“Ah!” Someone yelps, and Legend whips his head up to spot Wind. The younger hero is stumbling to the ground, a portal slipping out of existence above him. The boy groans painfully, gritting his teeth. “D-dammit all to the depths,” Wind curses. “That fucking hurts .”
The growl of bokoblins interrupts him, and Legend looks around to spot ones from Wild’s era quickly closing in on them. Legend quickly pushes himself up, grasping for his ice rod with the faintest thought of Ravio’s wrath. “Sailor– Wind –get up!”
A mix between a groan and a whine comes from the other hero. “Can’t you see I’m trying to!” But, blood is quickly soaking the boy’s pant leg as he pulls himself across the ground. Getting up doesn't look to be an option. Plus with the Phantom Sword having tumbled out of reach, Wind is defenseless. And there’s something creeping up behind him.
Legend curses the Goddess. Faron woods is gone but whatever forest they are in now still isn’t safe. A flurry of emotions rise in him, panic and terror gripping the tightest. “Move!” Legend rushes forward, but is forced to slow as a bokoblin blocks his path, nicking his arm. He barely feels the pain, so focused on getting there in time. But, even then, as he swings his Tempered Sword down to cut his way through, it’s too late.
“ Vet –” Wind’s panicked voice stops short–the white bokoblin swings its club. It whooshes through the air with no resistance, and time seems to slow as Legend watches the weapon come closer to hitting. Bashing the other boy over the head, hard, sounding out a hollow crack .
Blood splatters and the scream the boy lets out cuts off as he drops the rest of the way down, limp.
“NO!” Rips from Legends throat, torn raw.
The world seems to echo, empty. Blood rushes through his ears with each pump of his heart. Too late, Legend whips his ice rod forward and incases the monster in frost. Wind doesn’t move. The bokoblin blocking Legend’s path swings at him as the entire horde of monsters turns their attention to him. He's too late–Wind is still on the ground.
Where are the others?
They’re alone , the portal split them and still– still , Wind was entrusted in his care–yet look at what happened. The younger boy is limb on the ground, covered in blood.
Pain rises in Legend’s chest. With a cry, his sword swings, its sharp blade slicing straight through one bokoblin’s midsection. It doesn’t go down–the black blood holds its wound together. But Legend throws himself into the battle, stabbing, slashing, and shooting with as much magic as he can. He heaves his breath.
“Get away from him!”
So many go down, yet there are too many. Wind , he needs to get to Wind.
Desperation pulls at him, choking him. A medallion , he reaches for one. But his magic levels are already too low, and Wind is there. Yet before he can stop himself, he pulls at the reserves of his magic. Envisioning a deep well without a bottom. Going deeper and deeper until he finds something to take. Something that swirls from inside of his chest, deep and unknown. Magic. It pulls back at him and Legend–
He meets it halfway.
It explodes like a geyser, gushing out to crash over him in a wave. He feels himself become undone. Unraveling like a spool of thread pushed off the mountain side.
Power, untamed.
There's a pause in time, like the world has stopped between breaths and it chokes him with dissonance. A bright light emanates from inside him. The monsters fall apart, eradicated at the Light’s touch. Air whips around him, yet does not graze him.
The infested around him burn , while life blooms a little stronger.
Her light –it’s coming from him . Like a new skill, it settles in his chest. Quick as a lightning strike, pushing against him and filling his chest with untapped potential. It's disorientating, leaving him untethered.
The light dims, but the feeling does not. Legend’s feet hit the grass– was he just floating?-- and the exhaustion suddenly hits him, nearly sending him stumbling down to the ground.
What was that? Did he just– but–
Wind .
Priorities. Legend forces himself straight, pushing away the inner turmoil for later. With his trembling legs, he stumbles over to the boy, uninterrupted by any sort of monster. Lay their ashes in the grass, blown by the breeze.
He falls to his knees, the impact sending tremors through him. With gentle hands, he pulls Wind into his lap, cradled by his thighs. Blood still covers the other hero–though it is drying and beginning to flake. Legend rubs at it as Wind's eyelids twitch. Skin still warm, a pulse flutters beneath Legend’s fingertips when he checks.
It’s like a giant weight melts off his shoulders, and he slumps with relief.
Legend’s wounds are gone–Wind’s are too by the looks of it, thankfully. The only thing weighing him down now is his exhaustion, and the battle fatigue sits heavy on his shoulders. Yet, as he brushes Wind’s bangs behind his ear, blue eyes begin to flutter open, alive , the world keeps spinning.
Just, something inside him feels different now.