smilesrobotlover - Tumblr blog

smilesrobotlover · 17 hours

Text

Blood of the Hero Ch 13 (Link’s Parents play BotW)

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

AO3 link

To Kakariko - The Plan

It was another rainy morning as Tilieth helplessly stared at an untouchable fire pit. The wood was too damp, no shelter was available (why didn’t they have a little sheltered cooking area like they had in Hateno?), and so she was left wandering the village. Her feet took her to Lady Impa’s doorstep, though she hesitated to enter. However, curiosity got the best of her, and she slid into the large residence.

The main level was empty, the only sound filling the air being the pitter patter of rain hitting the roof far above. She wandered around the room, noticing a mural, and gazed at it.

A beast stood in the center, flanked by two figures and surrounded by…

Guardians.

This mural was depicting the Calamity?

“That is the Great Calamity of ten thousand years ago.”

Tilieth jumped, startled, and turned to see Lady Impa standing on the stairs leading to the upper level. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s okay,” Impa answered easily, making her way to the main level. “I’m glad you were able to join the festivities last night. I saw Captain Abel there as well.”

A silent question hung in the air, and Til smiled. “He’s doing better. I just… was going to cook, but the rain stopped that.”

Lady Impa nodded and then glanced over at the mural that had caught Til’s attention. “Tilieth. I… have a favor to ask.”

Tilieth watched her curiously. “What is it?”

“If Link… when Link wakes up, properly wakes up… please… return here. I want to see him again, and… and I have a message for him. From the princess.”

The princess? Princess Zelda? “Is… is it true, then? That she’s…?”

“Holding the Calamity at bay?” Impa answered for her, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, her expression sad and worried. “Yes. She is. And she risked her life to come to Kakariko, to make plans with me, to give me a message to remember for Link.”

Tilieth suddenly felt incredibly heavy and overwhelmed, as if the ceiling were crashing down on her. She’d spent so much time fighting to just keep her son alive that she hadn’t even considered the bigger picture, that he—that he—

She could hardly think that far ahead, to a time where Link was actually lucid and ready to fight again. Not that she doubted it was possible, but just—there was so much they had to do first. She’d travel the world, brave any monster for her son, but his preordained duty—to save all of Hyrule, to fight a monster of legend with a sacred princess—it just…

Impa was so grave. The reality of the destiny on Link’s shoulders smacked Tilieth in the face. His survival in the Shrine of Resurrection had little to do with his destiny in Tilieth’s mind, but Hyrule very much was relying on him, as was its princess.

Princess Zelda. Her fate didn’t feel real most days – the deactivation of the guardians had been more akin to a miracle, a mercy of the goddess, a simple flick of the princess’ wrist, rather than an indication that she was actively fighting a demon more powerful than entire armies. The castle looked too peaceful for such a thought.

Lady Impa looked at the mural a while longer, lost in thought, before sighing and turning to face Tilieth fully. “I think Kollin should have more elixirs ready. I’ll get a map and mark out the locations of shrines that I know the princess has been to. That’s… the best I can do. Maybe… maybe you could visit my sister; she might have more information for you.”

“You said you didn’t know where she was,” Tilieth noted.

The Sheikah chief shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I… don’t. But… well, there used to be a lab near the Akkala Citadel. It’s a bit far, but it’s a start. I imagine the royal research grounds were completely destroyed, since they were right by the castle, so that’s the best option.”

The citadel? The Akkala Citadel was one of the largest strongholds in all of Hyrule… or at least it had been. Tilieth wasn’t sure what state it would be in now. She wondered if Abel knew; she’d never really asked him about what he’d seen or heard during the Calamity.

“What do you know about the Gerudo?” Tilieth asked, thinking of her conversation with Sheik yesterday.

“The Gerudo?” Impa repeated, a little bemused. “They’re excellent warriors. The Champion Urbosa was their chief. They live out in the desert. I haven’t really ventured out of Kakariko that much, but those who have report that their people and capital was mostly left unscathed. I think some of their other outskirts villages were destroyed, though. Why?”

“One of your warriors suggested it,” Til answered simply. “She seemed to think it was a good place to go.”

“The desert isn’t exactly hospitable,” Lady Impa warned. “I don’t know what one of my people was trying to say in suggesting you go there.”

“She seemed…” Tilieth paused, wondering if she should note that Sheik had mentioned the Sheikah wouldn’t help them outside the village. “She thought maybe the Gerudo could help us find shrines, I guess.”

“They’re not… unkind,” Lady Impa said carefully as she looked away in thought. “People nowadays aren’t exactly helpful anymore. They’re all out to protect themselves, and most don’t leave whatever sanctuary they’re in. At least in that regard, the Gerudo aren’t afraid to leave their walls, I just… am not sure they’d care to. But they…”

Lady Impa trailed off, her words hanging in the air, trapped in the moisture filling the home. Then she sighed. “I suppose there would be shrines out that way too. And probably fewer people on the road causing trouble. The Gerudo would definitely keep the desert safer than most of Hyrule.”

“So a safer place to explore for shrines,” Tilieth surmised.

Impa shrugged again, a little helplessly. “It could be a place to go once you find all the marked ones, at least. Like I said, the desert isn’t exactly hospitable. But there wouldn’t be as much of a threat from people or monsters there, I suppose. The Gerudo would handle that.”

“Thank you,” Tilieth said sincerely, bowing her head. “I’ll go check on Link and Abel.”

“I’ll have the supplies and map ready for you when you return,” Lady Impa replied with a more curt nod, the metalwork on her hat clinking. “Bring the Sheikah slate and I’ll mark the locations on your map.”

Tilieth blinked. “You can do that?”

“Yes,” Lady Impa nodded with a smile. “I’ll show you more tricks, though Purah knew far more about the slate than me.”

Tilieth thanked her again before stepping outside. Abel and Link were exactly where she’d left them, huddled against each other under multiple blankets, sound asleep. It was a rare thing when she outslept her husband, but it seemed to be happening more often, which only showed how exhausted he was. Til wondered if it was worth staying one more day to rest, but neither Link nor Abel would tolerate it. Still, she wouldn’t wake them any earlier than she had to.

The rain subsided, allowing her to cook multiple meals, ranging from omelets for her and her husband to broths for Link. She packed as much food as was feasible—korok magic could store it but not preserve it, after all—and then finally headed to the northern part of the village where the shrine was located. During the party last night, Tilieth had heard several Sheikah mention that the mother had to be taken to the guardian spirit’s sacred water for a ritual cleansing and healing, and Tilieth had been wondering why Lady Impa had not suggested this place for Link. Perhaps it was simply because he wasn’t Sheikah, or it was actually because it was, in fact, purely ritual. Either way, Til wanted to investigate.

It didn’t take long to hike her way to the shrine, and she walked beyond it, though she hesitated as the cliffsides closed in, blocking the village from view. A glowing iridescent blue creature hopped about in the brush, catching her eye and making her jump, but she clearly startled the creature far more than it had startled her, and it scurried away with frantic leaps.

Wait, glowing blue and resembling a—that was a blupee! She’d heard of those in stories!

Giggling in excitement, Tilieth ran ahead before the sound of an animal crying out in pain made her freeze in place. She looked around frantically to see nothing, and crept carefully ahead, heart racing, before relaxing at the familiar sight of Sheikah armor. It was the young woman, Sheik, bow and arrow at the ready, clearly hunting.

“Good morning,” Tilieth greeted.

Sheik stiffened and glanced at her out of the corner of her eye before resuming her vigil. Tilieth bit her lip, looking around instead, eyes fixating on a large, strange looking plant. It was surrounded by water, which glowed with a pink hue as fairies flew about it.

This had to be what the others were talking about. The water was a little shallow, far too shallow for a proper bath, but perhaps she could bottle some for Link. Or even bottle some fairies, if such a thing was allowed.

She remembered the brother and sister from the road, and how they had created some kind of fairy tonic. She shuddered at the thought of cooking such creatures. But…

It just felt wrong. She couldn’t.

Just as she thought that, Sheik quickly reappeared in her line of sight, delicately but hastily trapping a fairy in a bottle.

“Are… you going to eat it?” she asked hesitantly.

“What?” Sheik stared at her, and though the majority of her face was hidden by a black cloth, her crinkled eyebrows and wide eyes portrayed her nearly horrified confusion well enough. “No. Fairies escape from their bottles to heal you if you’re grievously wounded.”

Tilieth felt her heart skip a beat. “They can—"

“Oh my goddess, you haven’t tried that?” Sheik asked, her voice rising. “Holy shit. How can you –you never—oh my goddess. Take the damn fairy.”

She tossed the bottle towards Tilieth, who yelped and caught it after it bounced in her grip for a moment. When she looked up to ask the warrior, Sheik had vanished.

Surely—surely a fairy wasn’t going to fix all this, was it? If that were the case, why hadn’t they tried that ten years ago?!

Tilieth wasn’t taking her chances. She rushed down the hill back to the inn, hastening inside where her boys were still sleeping. Uncorking the bottle, she held it over Link, waiting for something to happen.

The fairy lazily slid out, flying erratically as if it were dizzy, before hovering over both Abel and Link. It sank lower towards them before dropping to Link’s waist and circling around it several times. Then it zipped out of the inn.

Tilieth stared, confused. What had…? Gently, she pulled the blanket down to look at Link’s hip, peeking under his light shirt and trousers, and remembered that his skin was getting rubbed raw by the harness. It looked pink and healthy now.

Well… that was… better than nothing? Though hadn’t the elixir fixed that? She’d bathed Link last night and remembered noting that. Had the fairy even done anything?

Til’s eyes drifted just left of Link’s hip, where Abel’s hand rested from when he’d shifted earlier.

His hands had been blistered last night. They were clear now.

Tilieth groaned. That fairy had—why in the world would it—

Maybe it was best to just have them in a bottle rather than make demands of them. Maybe that was why they hadn’t tried this a decade ago.

Sighing heavily, Til turned and then squealed as Abel’s hand snaked around her wrist. He was sitting up straight in the bed in a heartbeat, eyes wide and disoriented, before he recognized her and let out a breath, falling back on the pillows.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, hand covering his eyes. “You alright?”

“Yes,” Tilieth answered quickly, her heart racing. “Just startled.”

Her husband slurred another apology, and she couldn’t help but worry more. He seemed exhausted. “Hon… why don’t we stay another day? Just so you can rest up.”

“Time isn’t exactly working for us, Til,” Abel pointed out, rubbing his face and sitting up. “Link may awaken more easily but his wounds will not get better without help.”

“But… how much help does he need? What if time is what he needs?” Tilieth tried. “We can wake him up more easily to feed him now – that was the main issue before.”

“He doesn’t stay awake for long.”

“No one does when they’re this injured or ill,” Tilieth agreed. “But most people also don’t utilize Sheikah technology to heal themselves, they just rest and have medicine. Lady Impa has more elixirs prepared for us. Maybe we should just stay here.”

“Til,” Abel said slowly. “I… the king mentioned something. And I… we don’t have time, Til. Whether Link can heal naturally at this point or not, we don’t have time.”

Tilieth swallowed, feeling cold fear and dread fill her. “What… what did the king say?”

Her husband shifted in the bed, his gaze dropping to Link. He seemed reluctant to respond, as if telling Til would be too much for her to handle, but at this point the suspense alone was killing her.

“Tell me,” she insisted.

“He mentioned… retaliation. From Ganon’s forces.”

Tilieth’s voice and peace of mind were stolen away in an instant. Kakariko suddenly felt unsafe, as if the entire world were hunting for her boy. She could feel her breath quickening as she looked at Link.

“This village may be safe, but it isn’t going to help him heal faster,” Abel finally continued, eyes hardening as he looked back at his wife. “I don’t know how much time we have.”

This all led back to Ganon, to the princess, to the war going on in the castle that Tilieth never really thought about. Reality truly was crashing in on her, a world so much bigger than she could ever comprehend calling her son’s name, the goddesses themselves pushing him towards a destiny far greater than she could ever imagine.

She didn’t know what to do.

No. No, wait. She… she did. She knew what to do.

“We need to go,” she said quietly, swallowing hard to push past the mental block that was trapping her voice in her throat.

Abel nodded. “What we need to figure out is—”

“No,” Tilieth shook her head, interrupting him. “I—I know where we need to go. What we need to do. Lady Impa—Lady Impa is going to mark points on the slate where some shrines are. Beyond that…”

“It’s open exploration,” Abel finished, his expression tightening.

“Yes, but—” Til swallowed again, heart racing. “But listen. I have an… I have an idea.”

He wasn’t going to like it. He was going to hate it. She wasn’t particularly fond of it either. But it appeared in her mind clear as day, and that had to be a sign from the goddess if there ever was one.

Abel watched her silently, waiting for her to continue.

“I spoke with some of the Sheikah,” Tilieth started slowly, trying to choose her words carefully. “They made a few suggestions about what to do next. Lady Impa has shrines marked on our map. You—you can do that, you know. Mark things on the map. I’ll have to check on it more, because apparently there are lots of things the slate can do, and I need to see what the slate can—”

“Til,” Abel interrupted mildly. “Focus.”

“Right,” she chuckled nervously. “Right. So we have those shrines. But there were other suggestions too. Lady Impa said the research lab in Akkala might have some valuable information for the slate; that her sister might be there, and possibly shrines as well.”

“Akkala?” Abel repeated, blinking a few times and considering it. “That’s quite the distance…”

“We have horses for it,” Tilieth offered. “But that’s not… that’s not all I was going to say. The Sheikah also suggested Gerudo Town.”

Abel’s face immediately twisted in confusion, as well as hardening a little. “Why?”

“We… don’t know much of the world anymore,” Tilieth said. “But from what I was told, the Gerudo are the few who managed to get out of the Calamity pretty unharmed. The Sheikah don’t leave the village because of the damage and the danger in the area, but… supposedly the desert is safer than here.”

“Til,” Abel said slowly. “Gerudo Desert and the Akkala Research Lab are on opposite sides of Hyrule.”

“Yes, which is a lot of distance to cover,” Tilieth nodded.

Abel stared at her a moment, and he seemed to be catching on. “Absolutely not.”

“Abel, you don’t even know what I—”

“You want to split up.” He snapped, rising to his feet. “Are you out of your mind? You just said we barely know the state of Hyrule anymore, those strangers we met on the bridge are a testament to how dangerous it is, and there are monsters prowling everywhere! You will nottravel alone.”

“But the desert is safer!” Tilieth argued.

“You have to get to the desert first!”

“Yes! Yes, I do!” Tilieth continued, confusing her husband, and so she elaborated. “We all will go to the desert. From there, I can find shrines with Link while you go to Akkala and learn more about how we can better deal with this situation. Link still gets healing and we can cover more ground. All you have to do is escort us there and then we’ll be fine.”

As she considered the time crunch Abel had mentioned, she amended, “Or—or perhaps the Sheikah can escort me and Link instead so you can go straight to—”

“No,” Abel immediately said.

“Abel—”

“No one is escorting you except me,” he firmly stated. “I don’t trust the Sheikah that much.”

Tilieth blinked, bemused. “Wha—why?”

Abel sighed, looking away. She supposed she knew the reason. He just didn’t trust anyone anymore, and, more notably, he didn’t want to let them out of his sight.

But he would have to. There was no way they could wander all of Hyrule aimlessly in search of shrines. There had to be a better way. At least with what she was proposing she could explore and he could have an objective with tangible results – both would be doing things that suited them best and Link would be getting help. And it was efficient. This should make perfect sense to Abel, as efficiency and delegation were second nature to him.

But that had been before the Calamity.

“Honey, just—just consider it, okay?” she pleaded.

“We don’t have time—”

“Consider it while we go to the shrines Lady Impa mentioned,” she pushed. “Please.”

Abel found he didn’t have a counterargument to that, and he sighed. The couple ate breakfast in silence and in haste. Lady Impa came and brought more elixirs, and when Tilieth gave her the slate she marked the shrine locations on the map. She also showed them how to drop markers and utilize the slate as a telescope of sorts.

“If we use the travel gates, do our horses travel with us?” Abel asked as they packed for their journey.

Lady Impa frowned, considering it. “I… honestly don’t know, actually. Purah and Robbie had only just started messing with the travel gate function when everything… fell apart.”

The pair glanced at each other a little nervously before thanking her for everything.

“May the goddess Hylia watch over you,” Lady Impa bade with a bow. “I’ll be praying for your safe journey. I hope to see you soon, and with Link in better health.”

With everything packed and the village waving goodbye, the two went to their horses, who were munching cheerily on carrots gifted by one of the children, a little boy named Steen. Abel determined that Epona, approaching the senior side of horse years, should have the lightest load, so Tilieth rode on her while Abel and Link were together on Ama. Abel still stared in confusion as Til giggled and packed their belongings in her small pouch, winking at Steen as he gawked in wonder.

And then it was time to set out.

The safety of the mountains gave their last hug as they exited the village and entered an open field. Tilieth glanced down at the slate to see the two markers were close by. She used the scope function Impa had just shown her, and she could make out the ruins of the Sheikah settlement that had been destroyed in the Calamity. The area was a little scorched, but grass had started to grow in large swathes, bringing hope and renewal of the land. Til could smell flowers in the air, and she smiled at it.

Leading the way, Til guided Epona to trot down the large hill. When they reached the foothills, there was a swampy area to the right, and Til could clearly make out both a shrine and, even farther in the distance, a tower. Abel came up alongside her and the two cautiously proceeded, though it wasn’t long until Abel spotted monsters. Til carefully nocked an arrow, dismounting alongside her husband. Link was placed against a tree while Til guarded him, and Abel quickly rode Ama into battle. Til felt secure watching her husband easily eliminate the lizalfos that sparsely populated the area, and she sighed in relief when he seemed to kill the last one.

“Let’s hurry,” he remarked as he returned. “If we can knock both these shrines out before sunset, we can beat any more monsters.”

“Should we try to use the travel gates to go back to the village?” Tilieth asked.

“Forget the village, we could go home.” Abel replied. “But that’s only if the horses can come with us. They’ll be killed or lost otherwise.”

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out,” Tilieth offered, holding up the slate.

“Later,” Abel dismissed. “We need to finish these shrines.”

The first shrine was fairly simple, using a large metal bowl to scoop glowing orbs into matching receptacles. Though the second pool of water and receptacle proved a little challenging (Abel had paced the entirety of the shrine at least eight times by the time Til finally got it right), the pair still managed to get through. With the spirit orb retrieved (and Til finding another chest, which actually held a decently made blade, much to Abel’s relief), the couple set out to their next destination. The monsters were a little less populous as they raced across; a quick swing of Abel’s sword eliminated the few threats in their way.

The second shrine required a bit more work to get to. They would have to swim across a river to even reach it. Tilieth glanced at the old village ruins they passed, wondering if it had been part of the Sheikah settlement or was something separate. More ruins were closer to the shrine, some garrison according to Abel. Thankfully the place was deserted.

Til activated the cryonis rune, creating an ice bridge they could cross. “Have you considered my plan from earlier?”

Abel tightened straps on the harness as he hesitantly climbed the ice columns. “A little. I still don’t like it.”

“But you can’t say it’s bad.”

“I don’t want us to separate,” Abel shook his head. “I don’t understand why you do.”

“Because you said so yourself – we don’t have time, and we were told to go to opposite ends of the country!” Tilieth explained emphatically before squealing as she slid on the ice. Abel reached out to her, but she slid on her backside right into his legs, causing him to flop on to his belly to protect Link, and both parents lazily slid to the opposite end of the bridge.

Tilieth groaned, rubbing her back as she rose. “That’s one way to do it… are you okay, honey?”

Abel stayed motionless a second, face down, palms pressed against the ice as he tried to either get his bearings or prevent himself from blowing up.

“Sorry,” Tilieth added guiltily.

“It’s fine,” her husband muttered, rising.

The shrine was surrounded by brier and thorns, which Abel easily burnt away with the use of flint and steel. Tilieth almost laughed at it.

“You are a little too eager to set things on fire, dear,” she noted.

Abel grew stony faced, making his wife confused, until she remembered that the hinox on the plateau had been enraged because Abel had set a good portion of its territory on fire.

Oh. Oh, goddess. He… he didn’t… surely he didn’t blame himself for this. For all of it.

“Honey,” Tilieth started slowly, reaching a hand out to him.

Abel pulled away, heading for the shrine. “Let’s not waste time.”

Tilieth sighed heavily, following her husband. She let herself get distracted as she looked at the fraying edges of his green doublet, idly noting that she would have to fix it or make him something new entirely. Perhaps she could get materials to make a tunic that matched the one she had crafted for Link. She was glad the Sheikah had helped with the leather work so the boy could have some protection.

The next shrine was far larger than the first one, and it took them a moment to ascertain the situation. There was a beam of light—or something more solid than it—that was controlled by a rotating lever. When the light hit a crystal, the place filled with water.

Tilieth pulled out the slate with a smile. That hadn’t been so hard. “We can just walk across like outside.”

They discovered the dilemma once they reached the other side. The switch to open the door leading to the monk was completely submerged.

“So we need the water down to activate the switch,” Tilieth surmised.

“And the water up to get to it,” Abel finished. “One of us can stay here to activate the switch with Link. I’ll go back across to control the water.”

“Honey, don’t go swimming in your clothes, that water is cold,” Tilieth advised worriedly.

Abel glanced at her a moment, somewhat exasperated, and then sighed. He stripped down to his underwear, and Tilieth noticed with some concern that his shoulders were raw from the straps on the harness, just as it had been rubbing at Link’s skin as well. The scars that finely layered his back were not new to her, but she smoothed her hand over them nonetheless, catching his attention.

“I’ll be alright, Til,” Abel said mildly, leaning over to kiss her briefly. “I’m a better swimmer than you.”

“All that time in the Domain,” Tilieth smiled.

“Just get ready,” Abel dismissed, jumping into the water. Tilieth watched him move swiftly, and she held the slate at the ready as she glanced at Link, who Abel had left resting beside her. She sat on her knees, leaning down to kiss him on the nose and poke him. Link sniffled a little, eyes fluttering and making her smile.

“Hey baby,” she whispered in greeting. “Go back to sleep, love. You can eat once we get out of the shrine.”

She heard the sound of the crystal activating, and the water began to drain. The switch was exposed, and Tilieth quickly used the slate to carry a metal barrel and drop it overtop. The door to the monk’s chamber opened, and Tilieth called cheerily, “It worked, Abel!”

Although she couldn’t hear the husky reply from her husband, she could tell it was a relieved one. Carefully, she attached the harness to herself and braced as she stood. Link’s added weight made her stumble the first few steps, but she could handle it. It was far easier than when she had to carry him up some stairs, at least.

I’m going to have to get used to this, she realized. If I’m alone with Link in the desert…

Her heart clenched a moment, fear making her freeze. She wouldn’t be alone. The Gerudo were there. It was going to be fine. This was heridea, after all. It had to be fine, right? Why else would the goddess make her think of it?

Slowly, she trudged towards the monk, letting Link’s hand touch the barrier. After receiving the Spirit Orb, Tilieth let the monk transport her and Link outside. Abel appeared with them, and Tilieth recognized their gap in logic very quickly.

“Your clothes!” she laughed.

Abel glanced down, cheeks flushing a moment, and then he groaned. “Great. I’ll go get them.”

“No, no,” Tilieth insisted with a little smile. “Please, you can just… keep going like this.”

Abel shot her an exasperated look, but he shuffled over to her nonetheless. “You can enjoy that later, love.”

Her husband leaned forward, and Tilieth tried to gently cup his face with her hands, but instead he pinched her nose, making her yelp, and unstrapped Link from her back.

“Oh, you!” she grumbled as Abel laughed, rocking Link back and forth in his arms.

“Rest up,” he told her before gently lowering Link. “I’ll be right back.”

Tilieth took the opportunity to jostle her son awake so he could eat some of the broth she’d made. It was absolutely thrilling to see him so easily responsive to it when just yesterday they’d had to race to get anything in him. Maybe he could take an elixir too?

Just as she grabbed the bottle, she noticed Link had fallen back asleep, and she sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t push him too much. At least he ate.

Tilieth worked on making ice pillars (or at least as many as the slate would allow) in anticipation of Abel’s return. The family made their way across easily when her husband exited the shrine far more clothed than earlier.

“You could’ve distracted the enemy,” Tilieth noted, giggling. “It might have been a good strategy.”

“Right,” her husband quipped dully as he tried not to slide on the ice while balancing their son.

Tilieth looked across the expanse, eyes catching orange in the midst of dull browns and greys, and she gasped. “I see another shrine!”

Tilieth raced to Epona as Abel called out to her, and she guided Link’s steed onward with all due haste. Abel hurried behind her, Link carefully held on the saddle with one arm as they cantered through the malice eaten marsh. They crested a hill, and Tilieth saw it.

Another stable. At least what remained of it.

“The Wetland Stable,” Abel supplied quietly as he caught up to her. The couple sat at the top of the hill, their horses nickering a little as they caught their breath. Tilieth’s heart dropped a little at the sight – it had been bad enough seeing what remained of the Dueling Peaks Stable, so filled with memories of journeys, but this…

There was nothing left. She’d only recognized it was a stable due to the scraps of material, the half broken fence, the rotted horse stall. Everything else had burned.

It was a sobering reminder of just how close they were to Central Hyrule. Tilieth’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of it, and her eyes wandered beyond the stable to a bridge that crossed into the land just around the castle.

It… it looked like… Tilieth almost scoffed as the thought appeared in her mind. It looked like a playground, a place where earth had been so scuffed up by children and animal’s feet that the grass couldn’t grow, a land so overused and dry that all it could do was serve as stomping grounds for those who trounced upon it.

She’d only been to Central Hyrule once. But she remembered its beauty. She remembered the splendor of Castle Town as it sparkled in the distance. She couldn’t even see it now.

Her veins filled with ice. Abel and Link had been in the middle of that. And they were—they were so…

Tilieth glanced farther, the silhouette of the castle barely visible, and she nearly made Epona turn around and run the other way.

“There’s the shrine,” Abel pointed out, catching her attention. “Let’s go.”

Tilieth reluctantly, anxiously followed her husband down the hill, but her eyes rarely left the castle.

Princess Zelda was there. Ganon was there.

The desert was sounding more and more appealing by the moment.

But Tilieth finally found her distraction when she glanced back towards the shrine, and noticed movement beside it.

“Hestu!” she called, surprised.

“What?” Abel asked, glancing back at her.

Tilieth abruptly remembered her husband couldn’t see the friendly woodland creature, and she quickly waved off, “Nothing! Let’s see the shrine.”

Abel scrutinized her, debating something, and then said, “Why don’t you stay and rest out here? The instant you hear something strange, head inside the shrine, okay?”

Perfect. “Yes, that sounds good.”

XXX

It was a good thing Tilieth hadn’t entered this shrine.

Abel cursed as he missed his target, the arrow flying just beyond the miniature guardian. He leapt out of the way before it fired at him. For an instant, just an instant, he was back in Castle Town, and the sky was burning, and—

For heaven’s sake. You’ve fought them in other shrines.

But this was… the castle was right there.

Abel shook his head, glanced at where he’d placed Link out of sight of the enemy, and prepared to try again. He swiveled around the corner, firing true this time, and watched the little monster fall into the water. Once the area was cleared, it was simple to make ice pillars, though the current was far too strong for mistakes, so Abel moved carefully with his boy. When they reached the waterfall at the end, he looked at the drop off in dismay.

They would have to jump to get to the platform. They would have to glide.

Abel felt sick and tried not to look down. He tried not to think about how Tilieth had been the one to take the leap in that other shrine a few days ago.

Goddess. And she wanted to split up. What was she thinking? These shrines were dangerous, there was no way he would let her take them on alone. The more he explored this one, the more convinced of that he became. They could certainly travel to the desert together, but he was not leaving his wife and child there.

Never mind that right now, though, how in the world was he going to get Link over to that stupid monk?

“Why did you have to do this?” he grumbled up at the sky. “You and all your stupid servants, making these ridiculous trials. This isn’t training for Link; he tries to kill himself in far worse situations than this on a regular basis. This would just be another day of the week to him, don’t you realize that? The only one you’re going to kill is me.”

The thought of all the insane stunts Abel had done over the years suddenly popped in his head, and he scowled. “Not funny.”

Fine. He’d done a stupid thing once or twice. Everyone did. That didn’t mean he wanted to jump across a chasm and—

Goddess, fine. It wasn’t like he had a choice.

You could always have Tilieth come down and—

No. Absolutely not.

But she did it in the other shrine and it was fine.

He wasn’t going to risk it.

Abel briefly wondered if he should just test the jump himself first, and then he belatedly realized he would be trapped on the platform surrounded by an endless abyss with Link snoozing peacefully on the platform by a waterfall. No. Not a good idea. The only way out was if Link got the Spirit Orb, or they turned back and got Tilieth.

The height difference is far greater than the other shrine. And the distance is shorter. It’ll be fine.

Abel swallowed, his heart racing. He hated heights. He wasn’t sure if the fact that he couldn’t see the bottom was better or worse.

Taking a steadying breath, he grabbed the paraglider and ran. The two hit the sky, the glider helping them make their way across until—until

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough.

The platform was just out of reach. Abel desperately wiggled as his feet sank below the level of the platform, as it rose above them, as dread and horror filled every fiber of his being, as he cried out, begging for a miracle. He looked down and found only darkness.

There was no way it was ending like this, not like—

The world spun dizzyingly, and Abel slammed into something, laying prone on a platform.

A platform. With a waterfall. With an ice pillar he’d formed.

Dazed and horrified, he blinked multiple times, Link resting comfortably on his back, and he realized.

The shrine had teleported him back to where he’d jumped.

Goddess.

Abel let his head thunk against the stone, breath coming out in rasps, and decided that he hated Hylia more than ever. Or the Sheikah. Or both.

But we’re alive. We’re alive.

Abel groaned. This entire time… they could have just gone through these trials without the overwhelming stress… because the damn shrine wasn’t going to let anyone die.

“Could’ve led with that,” he mumbled into the ground. “You could’ve led with that, you damn half rotted idiotic—”

Gritting his teeth, he slowly rose, tightening his core muscles as he lifted himself and his son. The platform was in sight, the monk innocently and serenely resting inside his prison. Abel glared at it.

Fine. If the platform wasn’t high enough for the two of them, he’d try launching off an ice column instead. It would give him more height.

His stomach dropped as he looked over the abyss. Even with the knowledge that the fall wouldn’t kill them, it still made his insides squirm.

You’ve done worse, he told himself, and he had to laugh at himself. He certainly had done worse. It was annoying that heights were so unnerving to him, especially when his children had been so blasted prone to climbing everything in sight.

Grabbing the slate, Abel fumbled with it a moment to get the right location selected before he used the cryonis rune. Tilieth had certainly played with this thing enough to be better at it than him, but he would make do. He watched the column rise from the swift current, sighing and resting the slate on his belt.

Round two.

Carefully, Abel climbed atop the column. When he stood once more, he leaned his head against Link’s feeling the boy’s hair tickle his ear. “Ready to try again, Link?”

He could imagine his boy nodding determinedly, and it made him smile. Taking a deep breath, Abel charged forward, holding tightly to the paraglider as they sailed through the air. The platform steadily rose as they neared it, and he reached his legs out just in time to touch solid ground. Link’s weight on his back through him off balance, nearly making them fall backwards off the bloody thing, but Abel thrust himself forward, nearly crashing into the stairs. Groaning, he dragged himself up to the shrine’s end point and let Link’s hand touch the energy barrier.

Once they were deposited outside the shrine, Abel sighed in relief, enjoying the fresh air the breeze brought to him. He wasn’t a claustrophobic man at all, but nearly dying had certainly made him sick of being in that place.

As he stepped forward, he noticed Tilieth off to the side of the rubble, staring off into the woods.

“This is the Lanayru region,” Tilieth said gently.

Abel furrowed his brow. “Yes, dear. Didn’t you know that already?”

Tilieth squealed as she nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling on the pair. “Oh! You’re back! Did everything go all right?”

Abel imagined telling his wife that he and Link had fallen into a bottomless pit was likely to send her into a hysteria, so he opted to leave that out. “We got the spirit orb.”

“That’s good,” she hummed with a relieved smile. Then she glanced behind her before looking back at him. “I just… um…. Was enjoying the view is all.”

“You’re acting strange,” Abel said flatly, cutting to the chase. “What’s wrong?”

Tilieth sighed. “Honey, it’s… you remember when I saw that giant korok? And you had to find his maracas?”

Abel blinked. Blinked again. He recalled his wife talking to thin air, he recalled her garnering from said thin air that monsters were up ahead. He had indeed found monsters, and a large set of red maracas. Or, at least, he assumed they were maracas – they made no music. “Yes…?”

“Well, he’s here!” Tilieth said happily. “And I have more korok seeds for his maracas, so—”

Abel finally just tuned her out, mentally settling on this is far too silly for me to bother with and moving on with his life.

Or, well, he wanted to, but then he remembered this supposed invisible forest sprite had known of enemies in the area. Perhaps he could be useful again. “Did monsters steal anything of his again? Are there any nearby?”

Tilieth turned, asking, “Are there any monsters nearby?”

Abel stood, watching her nod at thin air as if following along with a conversation, and he again wondered if perhaps one or both of them had simply lost their minds.

“He said there are many across the water,” Tilieth answered a little shakily. “But he hasn’t run into any here. He’s just a little lost. He’s trying to make his way back to the korok forest.”

“The Lost Woods are north of here,” Abel directed easily, recalling the training camp just outside of them.

“Yes,” Tilieth agreed with a smile. “But he also is helping me expand my inventory.”

Abel paused in the motion of putting Link down. “He’s—he’s what?”

“He has magic that allows this—” Here Tilieth gestured to the pouch on her belt, “—to carry items in it! You were asking how I could carry things earlier, this is how!”

To demonstrate, Tilieth grabbed a shield that had been on Epona’s saddle and—and—

And shoved it into a pouch the size of her fist.

Abel felt his eyes widen. “How did—what—”

Tilieth’s smile grew brighter. “I told you! It’s the korok here!”

His mind was blank for a moment longer before he simply sighed heavily, finishing the motion of lowering Link. This… well. He knew of magical creatures and fantastical things, but he rarely had seen them. Link had always been the one to stumble upon magical things, at least according to his stories – the most fantastical, of course, had been playing with forest sprites before finding the sword of legend. But Abel had believed him nonetheless.

He just… didn’t understand. But he assumed he wasn’t going to. Perhaps he just wasn’t a smart man.

Feeling a little helpless, Abel said, “Well… tell him thank you.”

He tuned out his wife’s warm response, sitting on the ground and leaning against the shrine, letting Link slowly slide over to lean on his shoulder as the boy’s weight shifted his balance. He wrapped an arm around the teenager, feeling bone press easily against his hand, with hardly any muscle or fat to hide it. It made him shiver for a moment, and he held Link more tightly. Reaching for the nearest satchel, he pulled out bottle of elixir and shook the boy.

“I just fed him,” Tilieth advised as she walked over. “Before we came to this shrine, I mean.”

“Let’s just see if it helps,” Abel insisted as Link’s eyes opened in response to the shaking. The boy drank half the bottle before trying to nod off again.

Tilieth knelt down on his other side, looking at him. “Do you think it’s making a difference?”

He honestly couldn’t say. But it made him feel better to try, at least. Shadows cast across the boy’s face, making him look even more gaunt, and Abel registered that it was dusk.

“We should make camp,” he said quietly.

”Why don’t we test to see if we can teleport everyone with the slate?” Tilieth suggested, obviously curious.

Abel smiled at her inquisitive nature, and he shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. We can come right back here if it doesn’t work.”

”Right!” Tilieth agreed, nodding eagerly. “So let’s try it.”

The couple stood and mounted their horses with Link. Tilieth reached a hand out to Abel, who gently took it as she fiddled with the slate, balancing it on the saddle in front of her. She selected a place, and Abel saw the familiar blue light shining around her. Its tendrils extended across her arm, lazily slinking around him and Link, and weightlessness took him alongside a bright light. He closed his eyes against it, holding Link tightly to his chest, his fingers wrapping around Tilieth’s arm, when gravity started to push on him. The earth pushed up in retaliation, pressing into his feet. Link’s weight grew heavier, and Abel had to let go of Tilieth to hold the boy, wrapping his arms around his chest.

They were standing on a tower. The Temple of Time was in sight.

The Great Plateau.

”No horses,” Tilieth noted, disappointed.

Abel registered the sight before him, emotions slamming into him, before a singular thought occurred to him and he shoved his feelings aside. “Why would you teleport us to a tower if you were expecting the horses to come along? How were we going to get the horses down??”

Tilieth opened her mouth to explain herself when the thought occurred to her as well. She shuffled to the edge of the tower and looked down, clearly expecting some new sign of egress when they both were fully aware there wasn’t one. She opened her mouth again, turning towards Abel, finger in the air to defend herself, and came up short once more. Abel raised an eyebrow.

”Oh, hush,” she grumbled as he laughed.

”Come on,” Abel advised, reaching out to her. “Let’s go back. I don’t want to leave them alone too long.”

Tilieth sighed, and the pair easily teleported back to the stable ruins. Abel’s chest tightened at the loss of the plateau, at even seeing it again for a moment. He didn’t know what he was feeling and wasn’t able to process it, and he refused to get lost in the sensation. So instead he set to making camp for the night as the horses nickered nervously, coming to their owners once they reappeared.

The family huddled under the half rotted horse stalls, as there was nowhere else with overhead shelter. Abel listened to the water and the crickets, thinking of Mabe Village just across the river, of Castle Town farther ahead. The bridge between the stable and Central Hyrule was completely gone, so hopefully that would detract any monsters from crossing here.

“Have you thought about my plan a little more?” Tilieth asked quietly as the pair lay beside each other.

“We should probably find the tower for the Lanayru Province,” Abel said, ignoring the question for a moment. “It would give us a better view of the area. We might find more shrines.”

Tilieth rolled to her side so she could look at him directly. “Abel.”

Abel bit his lips. The shrine today had shown that it was less dangerous inside than he’d originally thought, but that didn’t… he despised the idea of separating. It just didn’t feel right. He didn’t care how practical it was, how it might help expedite things – this world was dangerous, and far more foreign than ever. He couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Tilieth and Link alone and unprotected, especially for the chance to just go to Akkala and maybe find someone who could give them more advice. He had all the advice he needed: find the shrines. That was the objective. It just…

He didn’t trust anyone. And he’d been protecting Link and Tilieth for ten years now. Why would he abandon them? Why would Tilieth even suggest it?

“Akkala isn’t that important.” He finally answered.

“Lady Impa said we could learn more about the slate and the Shrine of Resurrection there,” Tilieth argued mildly but determinedly. “We have to at least give it a try.”

“Then perhaps we should just go there first. Together.”

“You’re the one who said we were running out of time! That Ganon might—that he might—”

Abel watched his wife clam up immediately, and she rolled on her back, chest heaving a little with worry. He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

He hated this.

“Let’s… go to the Gerudo Desert before we make a decision,” he finally compromised. “If it seems safe… then we’ll do as you say.”

Tilieth sat up, eyes alight with relief. “Okay. Okay. I can agree to that. Abel, I… thank you.”

He didn’t really feel like she should be thanking him. Indulging her insane idea wasn’t exactly something that should be respected. But Abel’s last big idea to help his family had…

“Go to Fort Hateno, Link. We’ll rally the troops there and figure something out. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

Abel felt even more helpless, so utterly worthless in his ability to do anything that should be his duty. He turned away from his family, curling in on himself and trying to fall asleep as nature gently hummed around them.

#HOW DID I MISS THIS ONE TOO??????#themmmm augh!!!#I love Tillieth and Abel sm #heck yeah shirtless Abel let’s goooo #beloveds #rip Abel he cannot catch a break 😭#I don’t want them to separate :c

15 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 17 hours

Note

I wanna hug Abel :( Sounds like Ammon might need one too lol

Can I offer you a new chapter of Blood of the Hero in this trying time

Me too bestie, Ammon desperately needs a hug he is goin through it. Poor guy

And yesss more blood of the hero !!!!!

#YEAAAAAH #asks #writing Ammon emotionally recovering from losing his brother and it’s terrible

7 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 18 hours

Note

I must’ve missed this but how did Tillieth get on the great plateau ? I cant imagine the relief Abel felt to see her alive, but the horror at the loss of his father in law and daughter.

You didn’t miss it, I never wrote it lol. The calamity angst that I wrote is technically what happens in canon, and in canon Tilieth never gets to the Great Plateau; Abel stays there, alone, protecting Link until he dies.

For the purposes of Blood of the Hero, I think I wrote at some point that Til might’ve been present when Link was placed in the Shrine, but I’m more so leaning to she escaped Hateno Village and was trying to get to the capital to find any living family. Monsters were attacking her near the plateau, and Abel heard her screaming. A few shots with a bow and arrows killed the monsters, and he found a way to get a rope that Til could try to climb. It took a few tries and a lot of tears, but she got up there.

#sobbing and crying and throwing up #ough that is SO SAD #thank goodness for aus im gonna #hh

10 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 19 hours

Text

Sobbing and crying and throwing up

Well instead of working on my sick fic or my kotg I decided to work on a completely unrelated fic that is making me cry—

#I finished it #haven’t read through it #but I was like. on the verge of tears while writing it 😭😭#golly I hope it’s good

11 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 20 hours

Text

Well instead of working on my sick fic or my kotg I decided to work on a completely unrelated fic that is making me cry—

#this is… very sad very sad #apart of the various angst prompts #kinda wanna do a month like #all pain all May or somethin lol #to reference no pain no gain #but idk #anyways #ouch #Ammon try not to make me cry challenge #smiles rambles

11 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 21 hours

Text

Dear GOSH look what I wrote:

The farmer stared at him for a moment, cradling the boy in his arms for a moment. Malon and walked over and stared at him for a moment, her head tilted with fascination.

#I’m fighting for my life with this stupid fic 😭😭

14 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 23 hours

Text

Whumptober day 29- troubled past resurfacing

Ammon meets Wild! It goes fantastic! :D (it doesn’t)

Warnings: panic, near vomiting, implied character death, bad vibes all around :(

~~~~~~~~~~

Wild observed the world around him, it all looking unfamiliar to him. He wasn’t sure what had happened, he was with the other heroes fighting a puppet who attacked Hyrule, until the world disappeared around him, and he was thrown into a forest. He walked around, hoping to find the others, but there was no one there. At least it was a normal forest, with animals bouncing around and watching him cautiously as he stepped on leaves and twigs. When he finally left the forest and entered a field, he saw that this place wasn’t his Hyrule, but it did have a castle and villages scattered across it, so he was sure that he was in one of the other’s Hyrule. Which meant that they were here, they had to be. He started walking towards the nearest village, it looking like a ranch of sorts, until he got a strange sense of deja vu. He looked behind him and stared at trees, wondering why he was suddenly getting this feeling.

“Link!”

Wild spun around and was pulled into a tight hug. He was surprised at the sudden hug, and he wondered who could be embracing him like this without any warning. The person had short hair that was only slightly darker than his own, and he seemed to have a Sheikah prosthetic replacing his left arm. Wild didn’t dare reciprocate, he didn’t know anyone who looked like this. The person pulled back and Wild was able to see his face, and he felt his whole body go numb. Blue eyes that matched his own stared back at him, and a relieved smile was on his face.

“I finally found you, my boy! I was so worried when I heard about the puppeteer abducting you, I’ve been searching for you for ages now—“

Wild only stared in shock as the man continued to ramble. His face, his expressions, his scruffy beard around his mouth, it all felt so comforting and so… familiar. Soon, Wild’s whole world disappeared around him, his stomach flipped as the familiar feeling of remembering an old memory came in. Wild closed his eyes as the world around him was spinning, making him dizzy and nauseous, until it was finally over, and a feeling of dread rested within his stomach.

Link was running to a gatehouse, his grip around Zelda’s hand tightening, making sure that she didn’t fall behind. The monsters behind them were closing in and Link could hear their snarling and grunting as if they were right in front of him. He ignored the feeling of fear and picked up his pace, practically dragging poor Zelda across the cobblestone bridge. He saw soldiers opening up the gate and calling for them, and both the knight and the princess safely made it inside. He heard orders being given, and then he heard explosions. One of the cannons blew up the monsters pursuing him and Zelda, and the gate was closed.

The princess started gagging, trying to catch her breath from running so fast, and Link gently rubbed her back.

“I’m sorry Zelda,” he whispered, struggling to catch his breath as well. “I’m sorry.”

Zelda only gasped in response, doing everything in her power not to throw up. The soldiers around them got to their side, some comforting the princess, while the others huddled around Link, making sure he was alright.

“You’re safe here, for now,” one of the men reassured, looking out through the gate.

“Yes, for now. But if those guardians find out where we are—“

“Shush!”

The soldiers looked at Zelda who was now crying, and they grew silent for a bit.

“Our main priority is to protect the princess.”

Link turned around to see who said that, and he saw his father. He was disheveled, with his Royal guard outfit ripped all over. His hat was missing, and he had a deep cut on his cheek, but his blue eyes were soft when they looked at Link.

“F-father,” Link stammered, and his father knelt down at his side.

“Link, I’m so happy to see you’re alive.”

Link almost broke down sobbing right there, but he stopped himself. He was surrounded by soldiers who depended on him, he needed to keep his composure.

“S-s-sir Ammon,” Zelda choked out. She sat up, still shaking rather violently. “M-my father… is he…?”

Ammon’s eyes filled with deep sorrow, and he looked down.

“I’m sorry princess. The king… he’s… the king is dead.”

Zelda gasped, tears flooding her eyes. She bent over sobbing, curling up on herself while Link covered his mouth in horror. The king was dead, the castle was overrun, Ganon…. He won. Link buried his face in his hands. How could he have let this happen? He was the hero. He had the Master sword. They had all the champions, the divine beasts and the guardians, how could they…?

A horrific realization hit Link. Ganon took control of the guardians, so what about the divine beasts? Were the champions…. Were they alright?

Ammon’s hand rested on Link’s back, grounding him. Tears pricked at his eyes as the realization that everything was falling apart. His whole life, his home, his friends, how would they even survive this?

“Link, princess Zelda, I need you both to listen to me,” Ammon said softly but firmly, “you two need to run as far away from the castle as possible. You’re our last hope. With the master sword and Zelda’s sealing power, we may be able to win this—“

“How? How can we win this?” Zelda yelled, practically hysterical, “I couldn’t unlock my sealing power then, how—how can I unlock it now?”

Ammon gripped her upper arm, staring into her emerald green eyes. She stopped shaking slightly and stared back at him.

“You can do it, I know you can,” he said. Zelda looked at Link and he nodded as well. She took a deep breath and nodded herself. Ammon smiled and continued, “Now, we will hold off the monsters so you both can escape safely but—“

“Wait,” Link stopped his father. “You’re not coming with us?”

“You’re going to need all the help you can get Link. We will hold off the guardians and monsters so you and Zelda will escape, ok?”

“I—I can't leave you!”

“You’re going to have to, Link!” Ammon nearly yelled, grabbing both his arms and looking straight into his eyes. Link was struggling to compose himself, the very thought of leaving his father behind made him want to throw up. He couldn’t do that. He was his father. The two stared at each other for a while, Link’s eyes growing wet at the thought of never seeing him again. Ammon’s hand rested on Link’s cheek and he smiled at his son. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the chilling sound of a laser being shot.

“GUARDIANS!” One of the soldiers yelled, and a laser shot through the gate, destroying most of the gatehouse except for the back. Ammon grabbed both Link and Zelda and dragged them out of the gatehouse.

“Wait, father—“ Link tried to beg, gripping onto his arms as if his life depended on it. Ammon gave him one last look before gathering him into a hug.

“I love you so much Link,” Ammon’s voice shook, and he gave his son a firm kiss on the head. Link started crying when he let go, and he was shoved harshly away from him. The gate in the back was shut closed, and Link was separated from his father.

“NO!” Link shouted, and he sprinted to the closed gate. Ammon turned away and faced the guardian that broke into the gatehouse. Link screamed as he heard lasers shooting left and right, begging to be let in, begging for his father to survive.

“Link!”

Link turned and saw Zelda trying to pull him away. More guardians were coming, and Link knew that he needed to leave. Zelda’s safety was his priority now, he needed to keep her safe. He wiped his eyes and grabbed Zelda’s hand, sprinting away from the fallen gatehouse. He pushed his emotions down and kept running. He kept running even when his legs burned, even when his lungs and throat burned, even when he wanted to fall and curl up in his grief, he kept running.

And running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Link! Link, snap out of it!”

Ammon shook his son gently, trying to get him to open his eyes. He didn’t know what happened, he found his son, he hugged him, and then he spaced out, almost as if he was dreaming. But it seemed more like a nightmare he was going through. His face was pinched in pain, and tears started streaming down his eyes, but his eyes stayed closed. Ammon stepped back, trying to figure out what to do. Link had never done this before, in fact, Ammon had never seen anything like this, so he just sat there, panicking as his son cried. Finally, he opened his eyes with a gasp. He looked around, dazed and confused, until his eyes landed on Ammon.

“Link?” Ammon said softly, and his boy took a step back. “Link? What’s going on?”

Link turned on his heel and started walking away, hugging himself. Ammon blinked, surprised at his reaction.

“Link— Link wait!” Ammon called out, grabbing his son’s arm, and Link pulled against him harshly. Ammon stared at his wet face, tears streaming down his face, his hair sticking to his cheeks.

“P-please,” Link whispered, his voice shaking, “it hurts too much.”

Ammon’s mouth fell open, what hurt? What hurt too much?

“Link?”

“Father?”

Ammon turned around and gasped. It was… Link? No but Link was right in front of him, right? Ammon observed the boy right in front of him and noticed the scars. How did he notice them now? The scars were all too familiar to Ammon, scars from guardian lasers, he bore his own on his nub of an arm. Confusion hit Ammon, and he let go of the boy in front of him, who ripped away and sprinted into the forest. Ammon stood there in shock, watching as the crying boy disappeared.

“Father?” His son said more quietly. Ammon turned slowly to him, confusion apparent on his face.

“Who—who was that?” Ammon asked in a quiet voice. Link pursed his lips and looked down.

“We call him Wild. He… he’s from the future where… the calamity won.”

Realization hit Ammon like a brick wall, and he covered his mouth.

“Oh—oh goddesses.” Ammon turned back to the forest where Wild ran, despair overwhelming him. “Oh goddesses…”

Link came up behind him and rested his hand on Ammon’s shoulder.

“You didn’t know,” he said softly, and tears welled up in Ammon’s eyes.

That poor boy…

Link pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back gently while Ammon played the events through his head.

“Oh that poor boy,” he whimpered, and Link gave him a tighter squeeze.

“You didn’t know,” he said again, and the two held each other after being apart for so long.

#reread this one thanks to lofty’s #yippee

62 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 23 hours

Text

How about some more Calamity Angst with Abel

(@artisticgamer @luckybyrdrobyn @kikker-oma because I know you're a sucker for angst LOL)

A continuation of this story.

Wow. Uhhh... this is heavy, guys.

The world around him was deafening.

There was so much noise, and his ears were ringing so much, he honestly couldn't tell what sound came from what source anymore. Was it a scream? Was it a guardian? Was that a child wailing or a gear grinding? Was that his heart pounding in his ears or was it a thunderclap from another beam firing?

Abel stumbled away from the ruins, away from the flames, away from the war zone. The city was lost, just as the castle had been. But at least some civilians had been saved. They were being escorted with what few royal guards he had left, headed for Kakariko and Hateno.

Upon entering the burning fields, though, Abel caught sight of many soldiers, none of whom wore his own uniform.

The army.

"Captain!" one of them called, bearing the insignia of general.

Abel stood in place, suddenly filled with a million different emotions. He couldn't decipher what was happening in his own body and mind anymore, but his blood was burning white hot.

The general approached him. "We're rallying the troops for a last stand. Akkala is the safest fortress available to us. If we lure the guardians that way, it'll give everyone a better chance."

A better chance. A better chance.

What chance had they had in Castle Town? Where the fuck was the army then?!

A better chance. It gave Link and the princess a better chance. A chance to get away, a chance to be safe, a chance to regroup.

Regroup with who? Who would regroup with them if the army was going to Akkala?

"Captain?"

Abel realized he'd been staring. He'd been staring and hadn't even offered a salute, let alone an acknowledgement.

There was so much noise. He forgot he was staring again.

"Akkala. Right." He finally ground out hoarsely before coughing. How much smoke had he inhaled? How hot were the flames burning?

He felt a weight on his shoulder, heavy and warm, and he jumped, startled, distractedly reaching for a sword that had broken after cutting through a guardian's leg. Then he came back to reality and realized it was the general.

"There's hope yet," the general said determinedly.

You didn't see the city burn like I did.

Abel swallowed. But Link was still alive. The princess was still alive. They were the key to everything, according to the legend.

And the guardians... they... they couldn't have possibly reached Hateno, no, no, no, they were still in the main field, they hadn't gotten that far. The military was trying to draw them to the fortress.

He had to do his part.

"Men! Move out!" the general called in general, his hand sliding off Abel's shoulder, leaving the captain swaying in place.

The world moved around him. The world burned around him. The world screamed around him.

Abel stared ahead, watching troops march together, some limping, others helping their comrades. Many had wagons and horses to help them.

He heard whirring. He heard gears. He heard claws, and ticking, and thunder.

Abel turned seeing several guardians taking notice of them. One soldier called out to him, offering a horse.

The guardians came closer. The soldiers began to run and yell. Were they fighting? Were they drawing the guardians away?

But there were... there had been so many of them. Surely this handful of monsters wasn't all that remaiend?

Where are they going? Where are they going?!

The civilians. Fort Hateno. Link. Hateno. Home. Tilieth. Lyra. Toyen.

Abel stared back at the soldiers again. Watched them rally together. Looked out at the burning fields, covered in such dense smoke that nothing was recognizable.

He ran.

He ran into the flames, into the smoke, into the fields and flowers and bodies and guardians. He tripped over a fallen woman, ignoring the stillness of her form, the hand outreached to someone else who was so burned they were unrecognizable. He stood and kept running.

The countrywide famous ranch was aflame, horses galloping chaotically in terror, their whinnies screaming into the air. There was no sign of any living people, and Abel didn't bother to try to look for survivors. He could barely breathe in the smoke as it was.

But he knew he needed to get to the fort quickly.

Running to get alongside one of the frightened steeds, he grabbed at its reigns and steadily slowed enough to calm it. He grabbed the saddle and pulled himself upward as the horse trotted, still agitated, and then urged it away from the ruins of Castle Town, away from the soldiers and the handful of guardians hot on their heels. His exhausted body clung desperately to the horse as he goaded her to gallop at full speed before a nearby metal monster could pick up on their trail. There were still a few civilians fleeing in every direction with no more coordinated movement or protection from the soldiers.

Either these were the stragglers or there were no knights left.

Abel again found himself wishing he'd died in the castle, or even in the city as his fellow knights had. But he had a purpose now; while he had lost the castle and the capital, he had a plan.

He had to get to Fort Hateno.

Let the general and his army hold their last stand. Let them die with honor. But Abel knew for certain that not all of the guardians were following them to the fortress, and as a royal guard, he had a duty to the last remaining member of the royal family.

And he would be damned if he didn't go to support Link as he'd promised.

He'd told him he'd meet him at the fort, and that was what he would do.

His horse whinnied with panic as flames spread too close, licking at its hooves and his heels. He steered the mare around the flames as she almost bucked him off, and then the flames were abruptly disrupted by a clawed foot tearing into the earth and squelching them.

In the haze and smoke, Abel recognized the pink mechanical eye transfixed on him. He sucked in a sharp inhale, coughing harshly on the smoke in his lungs, and urged his mount to move.

The guardian was hot on his heels, charging its laser as he once again pushed the horse to run faster. His steed neighed in protest, her stamina draining out of her faster than it could replenish, and the guardian fired.

The earth shook, and Abel's world was wrenched out from under him. His heart shot into his throat as he hurdled through the air, landing with such impact that it thrust all the air out of him. He tumbled a ways down the path before eventually slipping into the brier, thorns holding him hostage as they shredded his already tattered uniform. He moaned, unable to move for a moment as the guardian paused just outside of the area where he was, pacing back and forth like an animal searching for its prey. After a while the whirring of its alarms grew distant as it swiveled its head to another target, and Abel heard screams. The guardian scurried away.

There was a moment, brief, strange, otherworldly, where the world just--changed? The captain blinked a moment, and suddenly the world was darker yet brighter, hotter yet colder, and it was wet.

It was nighttime. The flames were still burning. It was raining.

How--did he pass out...? When...?

Abel took a shuddering breath, his body screaming, the world spinning, but he rose anyway, feeling a thorn cut his arm as it pulled a frayed piece of uniform, holding it hostage in its spiky grasp, leaving Abel's arm more exposed and bleeding. The captain coughed as he stood on trembling legs, and his world shifted again.

He managed to avoid face planting into the brier itself, but the mud was another matter.

Groaning, Abel rose again, spitting out blood from his now split lip, rubbing his face as the rain washed some dirt away while his soiled hands caked more onto it. He stumbled a few paces, looking around for the mare he'd been on, and remembered what had happened.

Panting for air, the captain stumbled, walked, and then ran. The ground was torn up with heavy footprints, claws cutting into the earth like lacerations into skin. The rain filled the gorges with puddles, as if the earth were trying to turn this Calamity-made devastation back into something natural.

The rain was deafening. So was the thunder. Thunder? Was it thunder? Or was it guardians?

Abel whirled around warily, tripping over a stone and falling once more.

And the world brightened.

It was an enormous flash, like that of lightning, but strangely... no thunder followed it. Abel didn't know what to make of it, but there was no immediate threat, and so he pulled himself up to his feet with a nearby fallen tree and marched ahead.

And marched. And marched. And marched.

Stumbling ahead, Abel gritted his teeth as a distraction against the pain shooting through his body. At this point he had no idea what time of day it was; between the burning skies around the castle and the storm fighting him every step he took, he felt like it could have been any time of day. It certainly felt like it had been at least twenty-four hours since the Calamity had started.

Abel coughed, leaning against a tree for a moment before growling at himself in frustration. He had to keep going.

Taking another step forward, he caught a glimpse of movement, and his brain registered that there were two men on the path ahead coming his way. They'd clearly noticed him before he had them, but given the fact that they were Sheikah and he was wearing the tattered remains of a royal guard's uniform, both parties knew the other was not an enemy.

And one of them was carrying--

Abel felt his breath get sucked out of him.

The blue garment. The sun kissed hair, painted golden brown like freshly baked bread, now soaked in red and brown and black and--

The still fingers. The still feet. The still body. The paleness, the redness, the black and blue and--

Abel couldn't breathe.

Goddess no. Goddess no, goddess no goddess nogoddessnogoddessnogoddessnononononono

"Captain...?"

Abel took one step blindly. Then another. He couldn't take his eyes off the boy, he couldn't get words to form. He reached out, his hand trembling, eyes wide with horror, screams caged in his chest, dying with what was left of his heart.

"Let him see him," the other Sheikah said quietly.

The knight continued to walk as if in a trance, tunnel vision preventing him from seeing or hearing anything else as the Sheikah warrior slowly lowered the boy to the ground. Abel reached him just as he was about put his head in the dirt, falling to his knees and supporting him.

The pale face. The open wound on his neck, burned through skin all the way to fatty tissue and muscle, the blood seeping through the champion's tunic, the shallowness of his breathing--

"He fought gallantly," one of the Sheikah said. "He protected the princess."

How did this--? That meant guardians were--and Fort Hateno was--and Hateno Village--

He couldn't breathe.

Abel choked, his muscles paralyzed, air refusing to move in or out, eyes refusing to close or move, transfixed on the boy, his baby boy--

"We're taking him somewhere where he can be healed, Captain. But we have to move quickly."

He... healed?

Healed?

They were... he could be... healed...?

Hands came into his vision, reaching for the little one in his arms, and he growled, pulling the body closer to him.

"Captain..."

"Just let him hold him. Captain, can you carry him for us? We have to move if he's to survive."

Survive. He could survive. He could survive.

Get up, idiot!

Supporting his boy properly in his arms, Abel rose, nodding. The two Sheikah glanced at each other a moment before nodding in return and bidding him to follow. Their path made him turn around, heading back towards the burning fields of Central Hyrule.

Why? Where were they going?

They ran quickly. Almost too quickly. But he wasn't going to follow behind, he couldn't, he wouldn't.

Abel ran until his knees started to give out, until his lungs burned, until his body was screaming so much at him that he was crying in the rain from sheer physical pain alone.

That was all that could make him cry at this point. He had no heart left anyway.

The Sheikah occasionally glanced back at him to see if he was keeping up. He refused to be the reason--

I sent him there. I sent him there.

This is my fault.

The trees thinned out. The smoke was back, as was the heat. How could the fire still be burning in this storm?

Was it still raining? He didn't even--he looked up and realized the sky was blushing with dawn, a haze overtaking the land, the rain having long stopped. He was still soaked to the bone, and he felt warm liquid settling into his chest and arms and clothes.

His blood.

Abel picked up the pace, nearly overtaking the pair ahead of him, and they held him steady when they stopped abruptly and he nearly toppled over.

"There are still guardians on the prowl, and I think they're up on the plateau. We can't fight them all, not yet. Follow us - we'll sneak by them to get to the shrine. Purah and Robbie should be waiting there, we sent word ahead."

Purah and Robbie? Shrine? Sneaking? Sneaking. They had to be quiet. He had to be quiet.

But they had to be fast. But they couldn't engage. So they had to be quiet.

Blood continued to trickle down his chest and abdomen.

The Sheikah moved silently, their training and specialized clothing allowing for them to be like shadows. Abel was... not so graceful. But with every glance they gave, with every hint of taking over to get his precious cargo where he needed to be, the knight held on to him even tighter, he held his breath, he stayed his tears, he choked back a groan or a grunt of a whimper, he bit his tongue so hard it bled to distract him from everything else.

The stairs leading up to the Great Plateau were in ruins, but scattered and fractured as they were, they were still somewhat passable. He could hear the destruction up above, the guardians reigning terror on the few people who had been there when everything had fallen apart.

He didn't even look at the Gatepost Town as they passed it. He just climbed. Heard firing lasers. Heard his own gasping breath and held it. Climbed more.

The Sheikah pair paused at the top of the stairs and then motioned to move. He ran with them, dodging between trees as the world burned. He glanced to the left a moment and saw the Temple of Time. People must have been holed up in there at some point--or they still were--as several guardians were attempting to break its walls and climb in.

"There you are! Who...?"

"Captain of the royal guard."

Abel looked ahead and saw two more Sheikah, a woman and a man, neither dressed as warriors. The female adjusted her glasses a little, brushing mud off her face as she pointed towards a cave.

"Let's get him in," she said hastily.

Abel followed, nearly slipping down the stairs, feeling the damp coolness of the cave stiffen his entire body. They continued a short distance before entering a dead end with some sort of bath in it.

"Put him in there," she directed him.

The knight stepped forward and then froze in front of the bath.

He... he couldn't put him down.

"What are you doing?" she asked impatiently. "He needs to be in there!"

He held the boy more tightly.

"Captain," the other spoke, suddenly at his side. "Your name is Abel, right?"

Abel stared at the bath, frozen in place, trembling from head to foot.

"My name's Robbie," the man continued. "I'm a scientist and researcher alongside Purah. This place is called the Shrine of Resurrection. It's going to heal him."

Abel forced air in and out of his lungs. Yes, yes. Shrine. Healed. He would be healed. Put him in.

Let him go.

He couldn't. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.

"He's your son, right?"

The room grew still. Abel finally moved, head turning slightly towards Robbie.

"The bath will heal him," Robbie said gently. "All you need to do is put him down."

Let him go.

Move, dammit!

Let him go!

You're going to kill him if you don't let him go!

Abel stared at the bath again, and his knees buckled. Purah gasped, her footsteps shooting forward as if to catch him, but he caught himself well enough, letting his knees and hips and back take the impact and holding the boy steady.

Slowly, he put Link in the bath, and he let him go.

Robbie's hand was on his shoulder. "Okay. Let us take it from here, Abel."

Abel took a step away. Then another. He backed up until he hit the cool damp wall behind him. He watched Purah and Robbie place a device in a stand, he watched everything glow blue, he watched water fill the bath until it nearly submerged his boy entirely.

"This shrine will seal and pressurize," Purah announced. "We need to go or we're not getting out until it's done."

"When will that be?" one of the Sheikah asked curiously.

Purah glanced at Abel a moment, uncertain, and sighed. "I... don't know. Could be a day, a week, a month, a year... multiple years. He's... pretty injured, and we've not tested the rate at which this place heals."

Abel swallowed and looked away, finding his voice. "There are still guardians out there. He won't be safe until we get rid of them."

He didn't wait for a reply. He didn't need one. The Sheikah followed him out of the shrine, Purah and Robbie lingering to make some final adjustments as Abel and the warriors surveyed the area.

Everything beyond that was just... a blur.

The scientists left. Advised him on a few things that he barely heard. Memory loss, healing time, maintaining the integrity of the shrine, something about a slate. The warriors planned an assault with him. Another guardian rampaged onto the plateau, its laser and weight finally making the stairway cave in, trapping all of them but preventing more enemies from coming.

They fought. For three days they fought. Kotek, the original warrior carrying Link, fell first. On the end of the second day, Moya fell as well.

Abel stood his ground before the guardian by the gardens, two of its legs sparking, its eye readying for another blast. He had no way to block it, no way to eliminate it. He should run into the forest.

He collapsed instead. The red beam that promised destruction took its aim on his forehead.

And then a golden light blinded him, and warmth and safety and otherworldly lightness flowed over him like a waterfall. He fell backwards entirely, shielding his eyes, and when he opened them, the guardian was motionless and quiet.

Wh... what...?

Abel stared at the guardian a moment, bewildered. Then he crawled towards it, poking it.

It didn't stir.

What?

The metal beast was still warm with use, filled with a fire of the charge it was about to unleash with him, but it... was... dead??

The sun shone brightly, and--

Wait. That... wasn't the sun.

Dragging himself around the husk of the guardian, Abel pulled himself to his feet with the nearest wall and stared.

Hyrule Castle was glowing.

What was happening? That golden light was unnatural, but it wasn't the malice of the Calamity!

Was it... could it be...?

Was it Princess Zelda?!

Abel fell to the ground, unable to stand any longer but equally unable to look away. He held his torso up on trembling arms, gaping at the sight before him.

It has to be her.

Goddess above. She actually did it.

She actually--

Link.

The word screamed through his mind, as if he'd forgotten him, as if he hadn't been fighting the last three days to ensure the guardians didn't get anywhere near the shrine. Yet somehow he had forgotten, somehow despite his mission his boy hadn't crossed his mind once. He'd been too focused on the objective.

Abel shot to his feet and ran. He ran so hard and so fast, the world was blurring and spinning, his head was pounding, his heart was racing.

Had the princess' power healed Link too? Could it do such a thing?

The entrance was still sealed, a nondescript gate guarding priceless treasure.

So he... wasn't ready yet. But he was safe. Link was safe.

Kotek. Moya. They weren't. They were... they were still out in the elements, still exposed, still awaiting their final rest.

He couldn't focus on any one thing and he refused to sit still. So he turned around instead. He roamed the forest to find the bodies. Used his hands and some debris and broken tools to dig graves.

As he smoothed the soil over the last of his handiwork, he looked at the castle again and saw that it was... normal again. Nondescript. Quiet. In pieces, but hard to tell from here. Shattered, but standing.

Had she died, then? Was the battle over for her too? Didn't they need both the princess and the hero?

He didn't know.

Abel walked back to the shrine. Placed his hand on the stone. Felt its coolness seep into his fingers, trickling through his bones to his arm, his shoulder, his chest, his core.

The world around him was deafening.

The silence of the night screamed. It was too quiet all of a sudden. His mind couldn't comprehend thoughts or words anymore. All he saw was the rock in front of him. All he registered was what he could touch. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against it, closing his eyes and feeling his body lurch in response, but...

But for one moment, all was still. For one moment, he could see Link, resting, healing.

Abel kissed the stone gently. Swallowed. Slid to the ground. The world turned on its side. When did he lie down?

Spots were in his vision now. Was he... was he going to die?

Did he want to die?

Feebly, he reached out to the stone again. He... he wanted...

He just wanted Link to be safe.

He knew he would be safe. It was over. The guardians were still. The Calamity quelled. The world was silent.

It... was over.

It was over.

And the silence was deafening.

#gosh when Abel went ‘my baby boy’#MY HEART #this really shows the true horror of the calamity #like YIKES

56 notes · View notes

smilesrobotlover · 23 hours

Text

The sky burned.

He had never seen anything quite like it. He had never tasted smoke and ash so heavily, smelled metal and blood mixing in a nauseating manner that nearly emptied his stomach. He'd never seen so many bodies. He'd never fought for more than twelve hours straight.

And he'd never seen the sky burn.

The bells in the temple rang repeatedly, a warning and a petition, a prayer and a guide. It punctuated the screams, it harmonized the ticking of lasers as they charged and fired, shooting through the air with such intensity that it created miniature claps of thunder as the heat separated the air harshly before it returned together with a snap.

And the sky burned.

Abel watched as the castle was engulfed in flames, filling the night air with sickly hues of red that drowned out the oncoming sunrise. They had fought all night to hold the guardians at bay to no avail. The capital had fallen. The king had fallen.

Hyrule had fallen.

He should have died in the castle alongside the king. When the library ceiling had collapsed in on all of them, that should have ended it. He should have died so the king could have lived.

Instead he was the only one who survived.

He shook his head, ridding himself of the distraction and despair. He may have failed his duty to the royal family, but the fight was not over. Hyrule hadn't fallen yet. Just the capital. There was still an entire country. He had failed the royal family, but he would not fail its people.

Barking orders at what remained of his troops, the captain of the royal guard corralled as many people out of the city as possible. When his men had found some semblance of organization, he ran back into the fray, ending up in the square with three guardians. One swiveled its head, its eye, once blue like a placid lake, was pinkish red, infected by the blood stained clouds that shot out of the castle. The other two were preoccupied, one destroying a building while the other killed the remaining civilians in the alley where it had cornered them.

Abel felt his blood freeze as the center guardian's laser focused on him, and then his entire body screamed in rage. He echoed it with a battle cry, charging ahead with his shield. He remembered his son's trick, he remembered seeing his little knight deflect a stray accidental blast so long ago.

He just had to time it right.

The guardian fired. His heart skipped a beat. He put the shield forward, shoving with all his might just as it made impact.

His arm shrieked in protest, and his entire body shuddered.

And the guardian's head melted as its own blast reflected back at it.

Gasping for air, Abel let his arm fall limp a moment, remembering how the pot lid Link had used had shattered into a thousand splinters, his arm broken from the maneuver. He remembered rushing to the princess' aid while internally panicking over his son.

But duty had always come first.

He prayed Link and the princess were safe.

Would they be able to stop this? Would the divine beasts be enough aid to halt an entire army, as well as the calamity itself? Would the princess be able to fulfill her destiny alongside his son?

Abel shook his head. Now wasn't the time. He was growing weary from fighting all evening and all night.

The other two guardians noticed their comrade had been destroyed and immediately started to charge towards the knight.

"Captain!"

Abel turned to see a handful of his soldiers coming to his aid. He asked, "The civilians?"

"The other team is helping to evacuate them," one of his men answered.

The temple's bells rang again and then were silenced by a terrifying crash of thunder. The guardians ripped the building apart piece by piece.

And the two in the plaza charged their lasers.

Electricity shot through Abel's veins. He couldn't deflect two blasts at once, and using his shield as his sole strategy was going to get everyone killed. His arm was already aching from fighting all night, and the one parry had nearly crippled him.

Abel roared and charged forward, trying to continue zigzagging back and forth so he wouldn't be an easy target. If he could make one fire on the other, then maybe--

One guardian charged faster than the other, its blast creating a cavernous hole in the earth, sending cobblestone flying, and Abel along with it. The captain of the guard landed in a heap just in front of the other guardian as it reached its peak charge.

Abel refused to die this easily. Getting a glimpse of the other guardian in his periphery, he rolled over cobblestone and broken weapons and bodies alike, slipping under the guardian entirely as the other fired, knocking its companion onto its side and exposing Abel once more.

With one guardian at least incapacitated, his men charged forward to chip away at it while Abel was left with the other. He ran towards it again, trying to get to its legs, knowing that if he hit it enough times he could at least damage them and slow the metal beast down. When it charged another blast, he cried out in warning to his fellow knights, who had finished off the other guardian, and they all scattered. Abel dove into an alley this time, fighting the jolt of horror as he landed atop the still body of a child.

The guardian's leg tore into the alley, trying to reach for Abel. When the knight scrambled away hastily, it reached another leg above the alley entirely, slowly tearing buildings apart to reach its prey. The child's bloodied form vanished in the debris that fell. Abel felt sick all over again, but the situation was far too immediate and dire to ponder everything he'd seen over the last twelve hours.

The buildings around him crumbled entirely, leaving him cornered against the wall of another alley, and he reached for a sword he no longer had, having lost it back in the plaza.

He was pinned and he knew it.

Looking around for the nearest weapon, he found a large tree branch that had somehow been blasted into the area from the nearest garden. He grabbed it desperately, glaring with all his hatred into that baleful pink eye.

He would die a knight of Hyrule. The Calamity would never take that from him.

There was a cry that tore through the air, a little hyah that made the knight's entire being nearly crumble with the instant recognition. A small figure dove from the nearest rooftop, sacred blade glowing so brightly it nearly blinded Abel. The figure landed on the guardian's body and sank the blade so deeply into the guardian's eye with such vehemence that when it collapsed he had to brace against it with his foot to pull the blade back out.

The sky burned around them, and the little knight's eyes burned even brighter.

"Link," Abel breathed, collapsing.

His son's fierce glare melted into worry as he rushed to the captain, falling to his knees to be at eye level and look him over. Hovering behind the guardian was another figure, a girl whose white dress was already stained with soot and soil and sweat.

The princess.

"Link, you--you have to leave," Abel immediately said, putting a hand on the teenager's shoulder. Link's eyes narrowed stubbornly, almost as if in defiance, and Abel shook his head, growing dizzier by the second. The mere sight of his boy made the world crash around him, the fight finally catching up to him. "L-listen to me. I--my men are gone, Link. The castle has--"

He looked beyond his son for a moment, watching the princess as she stared at him desperately.

"The king...?" she asked quietly, her words barely audible over the destruction all around them.

Abel swallowed. "He's gone, Your Highness. I'm... I'm so sorry."

Princess Zelda's face grew whiter than her dress. She covered her mouth quickly, eyes horrified at the news, and turned away. Abel watched her a moment longer, feeling all the worse for having failed in his duty to protect the king, and then returned his focus to the young knight in front of him.

"You have to get her out of here," he said quietly, his voice beginning to shake.

Link immediately shook his head. He looked up beyond Abel, up at the castle, where the Calamity itself swirled around like a demon ready to consume its prey.

"Link!" Abel snapped, catching his boy's attention. "Listen to me! The castle has fallen. My men can't fight an army of these guardians! The divine beasts have done nothing, and if the Calamity can corrupt our army, then there's no doubt they can corrupt the beasts as well."

Link swallowed, brow furrowing together. His boy, who had tried so desperately to always be so stoic, began to look afraid. He shook his head again.

Abel's hand slid from Link's shoulder to his face, making him focus on him. "Son... they're gone."

The Champions are gone. You have no support. Don't you understand? Don't you see this is impossible?

Link's lips trembled, and he bit harshly to still them.

"Get her out of here," Abel repeated. "You can't win this fight. Not here, not like this. Go to Fort Hateno, Link. We'll rally the troops there and figure something out."

It was more than just bad news and a command. It was hope, and Link latched on to the words, his face growing stony with determination. Abel pat his cheek lightly and gave what little bit of a smile that he could muster. "I'll meet you there, okay?"

His son watched him, his façade cracking a hair, his breath hitching for just a moment. Abel slid his hand behind his boy's head, pulling him close so their foreheads rested against each other, and they both closed their eyes for a moment. "Keep her safe. Do your duty, Link. Now, go."

The moment was lost, and Link pulled away. He took a slow, deep, steadying breath, and then nodded. With determination set on his face, he turned quickly, rushing to the princess and grabbing her by the wrist, pulling her away from Abel, away from the castle, away from city and the ruin and the disaster all around them. Zelda followed helplessly, tears staining her cheeks as she turned back to look one last time at her home, her kingdom, before they vanished around a corner.

Abel sat there on the cold stone floor a moment longer, catching his breath and readying himself. He offered up a prayer for his son and the princess, for Hyrule and its protection. Then he rose, dragging his feet out into the plaza and finding his weapon and shield he had dropped.

And he moved forward as the sky burned above.

#HOW DID I MISS THIS #AUGH

153 notes · View notes