Caged Egg :3

I was listening to City Of Stars on repeat and kept thinking about aroace grace. I love grace who is happy without a relationship, who doesn't need any romantic relationship to be fulfilled, but... I also keep thinking about Grace being a hopeless romantic. Grace who keeps hearing about love love love and nothing else, Grace who keeps waiting for that one true love, Grace who was more in love with the idea of romance than his actual girlfriend. Grace who just doesn't understand why it doesn't come naturally to him, why he can't seem to have what everyone else wants, what he keeps dreaming of. Maybe he thought Stratt may be the one for him. Maybe the idea of a big swooping romance with Stratt makes him want to claw his eyes out. Grace doesn't know what he wants.

He wanted to experience romance so bad, to understand what it was like to fall in love, what everyone keeps talking about... and now he never will.

The thick, humid air of the forest smacked into him instantly. Caught off guard, Link coughed deeply as his lungs adjusted to the lower altitude. Huh, he thought. Our Surface village must be closer to the sky than I realized. Or did the ground sink over time? Can the ground sink? Goodness, that's... I'm not sure I even want to think about how long that would take.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. The forest was far too distracting.

It was a beautiful escape, light filtering in through the trees like stained glass in a temple. A small brook trickled through some fallen leaves and ferns nearby. Wind rustled playfully over the grass and through the branches, tickling Link's hair as it danced. And of course, there were birds. Lovely, tiny birds, scavenging the ground for the nuts and berries they were so fond of. Like little Loftwings, they filled the trees with peeping conversations, thriving in whatever time and place Link now looked upon.

Maybe the air was a bit thick, and maybe the trees were a bit shorter than the strong, curving giants of Faron Woods. That didn't seem to bother the little animals in the slightest. And if the birds were happy, well. That could only mean this was a lovely place to be.

Link took another tentative breath, clearing his throat of humidity. By the grace of the goddesses, he was already feeling a bit better. Maybe it was because of the tiny birds.

A small golden finch suddenly fluttered into Link's hair, perhaps confusing it for a nest to inspect. His mate rested herself on Link's shoulder, offering her opinion.

His heart squeezed.

It was definitely because of the tiny birds.

"All right, you two. You can hitch a ride, but hang on tight!" Link smiled as he started off through the forest. He didn't exactly know where he was going, but that was ok. If he was meant to find the eight others from his dream, he'd find them. It was only a matter of "when".

Eight others...

Link's stomach dropped a bit at the thought. He hadn’t been able to shake it since the dream.

Eight heroes, all pitted against a great evil of their time... along with eight or so maidens of wisdom, fated with the same burden. His burden. It was the one hero’s task he could not complete: to smite evil from the world for good. Because of him, Malice would forever chase his successors throughout time.

If he'd been just a bit faster at the end of his journey, what would these heroes’ lives have looked like? If he’d reached Demise before the curse had been uttered, then maybe—

No. No, he had to stop thinking that way. He and Zelda had been over it too many times to count, and she always insisted that it wasn't his fault. He believed her. Or at least, he tried. But it was one thing to make a mistake. It was another to see the consequences.

A small wing fluttered against his cheek, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. The female finch had left Link's shoulder and secured herself beside her mate on top of Link's head.

The Chosen Hero laughed. "You know you can't stay up there forever, right?"

The finches squeaked in unison.

"Fine, fine. Now let's see..."

He scanned the foreign woods, ears pricked for any sign of other Hylians. "Hmm… If I were a hero thrown through time, where would I… ah," Link paused, then chuckled. "Well. I suppose I'd be here, chatting with a couple of birds somewhere deep in the forest, wouldn't I?"

The goldfinches twittered in response.

"Yes, well. We'll just have to keep looking. Sigh. I sure wish I could dowse for things again..."

He wandered for a good while with his feathered companions, experiencing a lovely nature walk, but no heroes. How odd. Was he going in the wrong direction? Maybe he shouldn't have expected so much divine intervention... but why put him here if he weren't close to the others?

The birds suddenly started fidgeting, tweeting loudly in his ear and beating the air with their wings.

Link's hand jumped to his sword. "What? What is it?"

Just a few feet away from him, a bush rustled. The birds tore into the sky.

Link moved into in a defensive stance, waiting for an ambush. It didn't come.

Curiosity getting the better of him, the hero craned his neck to peek over the bushes.

"Hello? Is someone there?" he called.

Something shifted in the shadows, quietly sinking farther behind the bush. With a gasp, Link caught a glimpse of a cloaked, Hylian-like figure between the leaves.

"Hang on," he gently let go of his sword hilt, ignoring the panicking birds above him, "You're like me, aren't you? A hero? I had a dream that told me to come here. Is that how you got here, too?" He crouched low, tilting his head in a comforting smile. "Hey. There's nothing to fear. My name's Link. What's yours?"

The cloaked figure turned shyly towards him, as if pondering their options.

Link shouted in alarm as the figure scaled the bushes in a single bound, crashing into his chest. He lost his footing and thudded into the dirt. The thing above him threw off the cloak, and Link gasped.

Squealing in his face was a deformed bokoblin, skin all pale and grey. Its nose was squashed upwards atop an enormous jaw, ears fanning out like keese wings on either side of its drooling head. A single spike jutted out of its skull, surrounded by purple face markings. Its empty glowing eyes stared deep into him. It seemed to smile.

A lone battle horn wailed into the air around them. Bokoblins of all shapes and sized dropped out of every tree in the small clearing, flailing their clubs and swords in manic glee.

Many looked like the big-eared silver one, only they were different colors. Some had long pointed tails and underbites. Some even looked very similar to the ones from Link's time, all bulbous and squat. How they all got here was a question for another day, but for now he had bigger problems.

He was surrounded.

But far from dissuaded.

"Huh." Link raised his eyebrows at the bokoblin pressing on his chest. "Actually, I was wondering when guys like you were going to show up."

In one fluid motion, the hero swung his knee into the monster's gut and rolled away as it screamed and fell over.

In an instant, Link and the nearest bokoblin had clashed swords. He flicked his ear. Weapons jostled behind him. He parried the first bokoblin's cleaver and forced it back with his shield, then dropped to the ground. The long-tailed bokoblin behind him swung wildly, sending its club straight over Link’s head and into the face of the first monster. The hit bokoblin shrieked and crumbled into smoke.

While an ancient bokoblin violently punished the long-tail with its shield, another charged straight at Link. He side-stepped it at the last moment, slicing his sword through its side as it tore past. He spun and caught it in the back, driving its blackening form into the ground.

A claw grazed the left of his face, sending a jolt of pain burning down his spine. Link hissed and raised his shield. More claws clanged madly against it from the other side, where a blue, big-eared bokoblin snarled at him.

Link furrowed his brow. Not today, beast.

He swapped his sword for a whip and let it fly, ensnaring the legs of the creature. He pulled the raging thing right under his shield, and was quick to land the final blow.

A second more and his sword was in the air again, blocking another attacker. This one swung like an animal, and like lightning his weapon danced to stop each blow.

Link's body sunk into an all too familiar rhythm. He'd not felt this way in a while, but the muscle memories never faded. His memories never faded.

Parry, swipe. Thrust, shield block. Leap attack. Slay the monster. Turn back for more.

He felt the sun warm his back as his sailcloth billowed around his shoulders, accentuating every move he made.

Spin attack. Downwards strike. Dodge. Upwards strike. Repeat.

Three more enemies remained. Two. One.

He shouted a battle cry, charging forwards with his sword leveled at the final enemy.

Shink!

A moment passed.

The last bokoblin slipped off his blade with a smokey hiss, leaving nothing but rupees and a single claw in the ferns.

The Chosen Hero stood still, staring at the shaking end of his sword in a daze.

All at once his lungs began screaming for thinner air. He wheezed wetly, his head pounding as he forced his hand to lower the blade and rest. Too much... he'd pushed himself too much... He'd forgotten how easy it was to fight hoards and lose himself. Even after his quest, even with all the training and occasional monster battles he'd experienced for the past three years, his lungs still did him no favors. Ugh. Stupid stamina...

A twig snapped behind him.

Link's eyes shot open. Instinct took over, and in a blink, his sword was raised in the face of a stranger.

"WHOA! Whoa whoa hey! Hey! Sorry! We're friends... no more bokoblins. See? You got them all!"

The stranger—a young man with long, wild blond hair and scars on his face—held his hands up in a non-threatening pose.

Link blinked.

One, two, no, three Hylians with shields and swords. That brunet one, he was wearing a familiar tunic... a green tunic, just like...

The Hero of the Sky gasped, stumbling backwards and lowering his sword. "Oh! Oh no. Sorry, I—!"

"No! No, it's ok!" The one with long hair stepped towards him slowly. "I know how it can get right after a bad fight. Not fun. But, wow..."

"You were amazing," breathed the brown-haired hero.

The third hero, who wore a bright blue cap, huffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah. Impressive. But try and save some monsters for the rest of us next time, 'k, hot shot?" He looked pointedly at Link's sword. "And please refrain from skewering us."

Link stuttered, his free hand suddenly flailing as he hurried to apologize. "I-I didn’t mean to… oh boy." He dragged a hand through his hair. "Here I am, looking all over the woods for you and the first thing I do is almost—"

Urgent tweeting cut him off. A flurry of golden wings caught his eye in the boughs above, and when Link turned to look, the two goldfinches had settled themselves right above him in the tree.

"Oh!" Link sighed, relieved. "There you two are! You knew there would be trouble right from the start, didn't you? Sorry I didn’t listen."

The birds chattered happily.

The three heroes raised their eyebrows.

Link caught their gaze and blushed. He imagined he was quite the sight: a fully-trained knight with monster slime dripping from his blade, pleasantly sharing a conversation with two tiny birds. Groose would’ve never let him hear the end of it.

For a moment, Link could have sworn he heard one of the strangers mutter the words "Bird Man" under his breath. The Chosen Hero frowned. Maybe the humidity was affecting him more than he thought.

Distracted, Link rubbed the back of his neck and promptly hissed in pain. His glove had grazed the stinging monster scratch on his face.

"You're hurt," the brunet boy winced in sympathy. He walked closer, already pulling a cloth out of his bag.

Link shook his head quickly. "No, please! Don't waste your materials on me, it's not that bad..."

The boy went alarmingly serious. "It could get infected."

"But-"

"Here." He handed him the fabric and a small jar. "At least dry it and put some salve on it? You don't want an infection in the woods, trust me."

Link paused only a moment before taking the items. "Thank you," he smiled.

"It's the least I can do!"

Link hummed as he cleaned the wound, a picture of Zelda's stubborn kindness popping into his head. She acted the exact same way whenever he got hurt. He'd learned very quickly never to fight her when she got like that, and this boy before him was no exception to the rule.

“Wow, Bush Boy! Never thought I’d see you get that stone-faced over anything!” smirked the hero with the blue cap. “I’m actually a little nervous now.”

“Treat your injuries correctly and you won’t need to be,” The brunet deadpanned.

For a second, the hero’s companions looked genuinely frightened. Then they burst into laughter.

The young brunet rolled his eyes, but there was no malice in them. Instead, he turned back to Link. “Was it just the face?”

“Huh?”

“Er, you were coughing earlier,” he clarified. “I-I just wondered, they didn’t hit you in the lungs, did they?”

“O-oh!” The Skyloftian felt heat rush to his face. He heard that?!? How embarrassing… “Uh, no! No, I’m ok. Just a long fight, that’s all.” Change the subject change the subject! “Hey, I don’t think I caught any of your names?”

He grimaced. Smooth recovery, Link.

The brunet looked concerned for a moment, but his snickering friends distracted him. In almost perfect unison, the three locked eyes, and coy smiles began stretching across all their faces. As if they’d rehearsed, the future heroes turned back as one, gleefully announcing:

“Hi! Name’s Link! What’s yours?”

Link—or rather—the Hero of the Sky, gaped at them.

“Wha—? But who—ALL of you?!?!”

“Welcome to the Chain, buddy!” The long-haired hero beamed, throwing his arms wide.

“The ‘Hero’s’ name is ‘Link,’” explained the blue-capped hero with a smirk. “Been that way since the dawn of time. Or so I hear.”

You have no idea, Link swallowed, still processing this turn of events. “But how do you tell each other apart?”

“Oh, we have a strategy!” said the brunet.

The long-haired hero nodded sagely. “After much discussion and turmoil, we have decided on new nicknames.”

The Skyloftian blinked. “New?”

“The lesser names have been scrubbed from history.”

The blue-capped hero rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

“I’m just saying that your old nicknames were… less than great,” the long-haired one grinned.

“Whatever. They were funnier,” the Link with the cap scoffed and faced the brunet. “You really like the name ‘Traveler’?”

“It’s better than ‘Bush Boy’,’” the traveler laughed. “Are you just upset that the champion’s calling you ‘Veteran’?”

“I am not! ...Entirely!”

“He most definitely is,” murmured the long-haired champion, elbowing Link’s arm.

Link felt a smile creeping onto his face. He was just about to ask the teen what nickname he should be given when he saw it.

When he saw her.

Behind the young champion’s shoulder, catching the light with her faceted amethyst hilt, glittered a sword. She shifted between brilliant blues and the richest of purples with every sway, dancing through the falling leaves as she so often loved to do. Gold peeked out from just above her scabbard, meeting Link’s eye in a playful flicker, as if to say, “I am here, my Master. Do not fear. What journey may I aid you with today?”

There was only one sword in the world that could do that. His sword. The Master Sword.

Fi.

“…only fair we give you a name, too! ...Uh, hey? Are you ok?”

The one they called the champion fidgeted before him, turning with Fi and waving a hand in Link’s face.

The Skyloftian could only stare. The sword was nestled comfortably against the other hero’s shoulder, as if she’d been there all her life. And Link supposed, she really had been. The champion was a hero. A brother of his own spirit, and like every hero across time, he’d been watched over and aided by the Sword that Seals the Darkness.

Link had hoped to see the eight others as people. He really, really had. But now that illusion seemed to be shattered. They were heroes. His consequences. But at least Fi was here, and she was content. Like the many tiny birds of the forest, she’d accepted time’s passing. And if she could do that, then maybe Link could try.

“Your sword…” he breathed finally. “May I… could I…?” The Chosen Hero’s hand reached out before he could stop it.

Flashes of protectiveness, maybe worry, flicked through the champion’s eyes, but they were gone the moment they arrived. The wild hero’s face slipped into a neutral mask as he nodded, surrendering his blade into a stranger’s hands.

Link gasped as her hilt slipped into his fingers once more. Everything about her was warm, her weight, her balance, all familiar. In awe, he turned her over in the light, waltzing her slowly as his bittersweet smile grew. It was her. He could feel her quiet presence, resting just beneath the heavenly steel. He gripped her hilt, holding her firm before him with one unwavering hand. Traveling all this way through time might have been awful, but this. This made it all worth it.

“Hello again, my old friend.”

“You know the blade?” asked the veteran.

“Know her?” the Hero of the Sky smiled, eyes only for his dear friend. “I forged this sword.”

The moment he uttered those words, something shifted in that wooded grove. The eyes of those around him changed. It was as if they were seeing him clearly for the first time, and they didn’t quite know what to make of him. The traveler and the veteran opted to gasp, looking between Link and each other as if their great grandfather had just stepped out of his portrait in the sitting room.

The champion, however, was still. His body betrayed nothing but reverence and loyalty as he looked silently on, observing the Skyloftian with the upmost respect. Whatever emotions he’d let sparkle and dance like a wildfire before had now been doused and buried. He’d become a statue of a perfect knight, although completely disarmed.

The veteran finally voiced his thoughts. “You… you’re the Chosen Hero. The first Link.”

The poor traveler looked ready to pass out. “You made the Master Sword?”

The Hero of the Sky laid the silvery side of the blade against his palm, stroking the pearly smoothness that had taken ages to mold. “Forged, yes. Made from scratch...? Not quite.” He smiled at the other boys, a faraway look in his eyes. “This blade was once the Goddess Sword, a beautiful weapon created by Hylia herself, who always intended for it to become something stronger. It took forging her in sacred fire and song to get her to what she is now, and even then… Fi’s always been much more than just a sword.”

“…Have you heard the voice?”

Link looked up at the champion, who’d been alarmingly quiet since handing over Fi. He tried desperately to get a read on what the boy was thinking, but the most he saw was a brief flicker in his sharp blue eyes. Hope? Fear? Curiosity? All three? It was impossible to tell.

In his softest voice, Link said, “Yes. Many times, during my journey. I knew her when she was awake and had a body, full of life and energy, like a fairy. She guided me. Kept me company and gave me council when I needed it most… aaaand sometimes when I didn’t.” Warmth glittered in his eyes, but in the same breath, he grew somber. “…Then, when it was all over, she had to sleep. She sacrificed herself to eons without a body, but all that time, she’s been here, watching over us. Guiding us…”

He turned his gaze back to the stoic champion, studying his blank face. It was a face full of tales, littered with burns and scars from goddess-knows where. The champion didn’t deserve those marks. But he did deserve something—someone—else.

Without a moment more of hesitation, Link held out the Master Sword.

“…Now, she guides you.”

It was if the champion were wearing a mask of wax. His façade slowly cracked and melted away, allowing the river of emotions he’d been holding at bay to flood back into his eyes. Familiar uncertainties rushed through them, ones the Skyloftian knew all too well as a Knight of Skyloft. Seems some things never change…

Link didn’t want to let Fi go again so soon. She was his responsibility; these boys shouldn’t have to fix his mistakes for him so far in the future. And yet… when the champion allowed his burn-coated fingers to flinch towards her glittering hilt… when the veteran looked on with eyes that seemed far too old and brand new at the same time… when the traveler gazed longingly at the sword’s surface, daring to believe he was enough… Link knew what Fi wanted.

He held her out farther, silently granting the permission he never should’ve needed to give.

As soon as the champion’s fingers grazed her hilt, the sword flashed a brilliant turquoise. The light illuminated the faces of all four heroes around it, and they jumped. The champion, veteran, and traveler alike stood frozen in awe.

“Whoa.”

The Chosen Hero chuckled. “She doesn’t do that for just anyone.”

The long-haired knight grasped the hilt more tightly, finally taking back the sword he’d had initially. She flickered once more, the light dancing in his eyes, before returning to her standard silvery form. The champion breathed deeply, finally at ease.

“I-I… guess we know who’s in charge now,” the champion said shakily.

Link cocked his head. “Huh?”

“Um… The Chosen Hero?” the veteran offered, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. “That’s kinda a big deal. Just a bit. Seniority and all that.”

“Y-yep…” swallowed the traveler. He was clutching the cloth that he’d given Link to clean his cuts, staring at it with enormous eyes, like the world would fall apart if he dropped it.

The Hero of the Sky felt his heart speeding up. This was far from the reaction he’d been expecting. Lead them? To where? He’d had enough trouble just finding these three in the first place, and yet they all seemed ready to jump off a cliff if he asked them to.

He gulped thickly and shuffled backwards, fingering his white sailcloth as his mind raced on what to do. Was he supposed to lead them, as the first Link? Did he still have that right, after Demise’s—No. No, don’t think about that. They need you, Link, it’s not the time to doubt!

They stared up at him, expectantly.

Link stuttered, “U-um… well… maybe we could—”

Bushes erupted in the distance, crashing together like the wind of a hurricane. What sounded like a hundred footfalls thundered through the forest, barreling straight for the four heroes.

Swords and shields were drawn in an instant.

The volume of the disruption grew louder as their enemies advanced. If they thought an obvious full-on assault would make any difference over a sneak attack, these monsters were very mistaken. Unwavering, the Links stood their ground, faces hard and fingers itching for battle.

The foliage began to stir.

The birds in the trees flew for cover.

Not a second after the first glint of armor appeared through the leaves, the four heroes leaped as one, yelling with all of their might, “HYAA—!

“—AAAAAHHH!!?!?”

 Two armored knights, two shorter heroes, and a young warrior in a black, fluffy cape all shouted in confusion, skidding to a halt just in time to dodge their blades.

A boy in blue tripped and rolled forwards until his nose was an inch from the Master Sword. He looked up at the champion with wide, dark green eyes.

Nine heroes froze.

The boy’s face lit up with an enormous grin, and he turned back to his friends, shouting, “I found them!!!”

Every sword was sheathed immediately.

“Here we go again…” muttered the veteran.

“Oh my goodness! Are you ok? That was close…” the Skyloftian started rambling off a list of apologies as he and the champion hurried to pick the boy off the ground. The boy pushed them off of him lightly, his nose wrinkling at all the attention.

The knight with the scarf caught him in a headlock anyway, ruffling his curly hair. “Goodness, Sailor, are we going to have to teach you how to walk? How many times have you tripped this past hour?”

The sailor shoved him. “Har. Har. Just wait until we need to sail somewhere, then we’ll see who’s got their sea legs!”

The knight went a bit green at the thought, and the older man grasped his shoulder.

“A sea captain, Warriors is not,” the one-eyed hero explained. ‘Warriors’ grunted and waved him off.

Amidst the jumble, the traveler was making a hasty headcount as he tried and failed to keep his composure. “…S-seven, eight, nine. Nine. T-that’s everyone! We did it! Huh.”

“How ‘bout that,” the hero with the fur cape agreed, cracking his stiff back.

It was at that moment that the Skyloftian, traveler, veteran, and champion all noticed how out of breath the five new heroes were.

“Are you all ok?” the champion frowned. “Looks like you were running. What just happened?

“Ah!” the shortest hero perked up. “Well you see now, there was this huge monster behind us, but I think we lost ‘em!”

No sooner had he uttered those words than an enormous roar shook the earth. The trees in the distance shivered with the force of something tearing them apart like minor inconveniences.

The sailor started panicking. “We didn’t lose him!!!”

“What gave that away?” Warriors shouted.

The champion’s eyes narrowed. “I know that roar…” he muttered, barely audible. In a moment, he’d taken off in the direction of the monster, the Master Sword in tow.

“CHAMPION!” shouted the traveler and Chosen Hero.

“The heck does he think he’s doing?!?” growled the veteran, charging right after him. Before anyone could object, the young man became a blur, his boots whirring with strange, feathered magic as he disappeared through the trees.

The heroes suddenly found their number down to seven.

“Looks like we’re fighting the giant, angry monster, Smithy,” the black-caped hero said.

The smith drew his sword. “Oh joy.”

“Back around again, boys,” commanded the oldest knight, effortlessly turning their retreat into a charge.

He must be their de facto leader, the Skyloftian figured as they ran. Makes perfect sense. He looks far more experienced, like a knight instructor from back home. I just hope we reach the other two in time…

As it turned out, the runaways were holding their own quite well.

By the time the group had pushed past the last batch of trees, the veteran was wielding a red cane swirling with magical energy. A glowing red block winked into existence beneath the champion’s feet, and with a mighty upwards swing, the vet sent the block careening into the air.

The champion wasted no time in using the momentum, sailing right above the giant monster’s head with a well-used paraglider. At a speed that rivaled lightning, he notched three bomb arrows at once, letting them fly with deadly accuracy into the creature’s eye. Three. Six. Now nine arrows to the face, and the beast was howling with pain and rage. It toppled backwards onto its rear, only to have its entire lower half enveloped in a thick coating of ice.

The veteran breathed evenly as he twirled a sparkling blue scepter, crystals of ice flaking off and glowing in the frosted grass beneath him. “Want some more, ugly?”

The champion leapt atop the beast’s head, whacking it wildly with his sword as the veteran hammered at it from below. The champion’s courage surged into Fi’s blade, and she glowed for him, delivering blow after blow with frightening effectiveness.

Suddenly, the beast could take no more. It lashed out with yellow claws, yanking itself upwards and shattering its icy prison. The veteran threw up a shield to block the shards of ice as the champion clung on for dear life.

The Chosen Hero was already running towards them, fully prepared to join the fight, when something shifted in the atmosphere behind him.

The air turned crimson as red magic rippled past his ear.

A blazing sword beam appeared out of nowhere, flying at the beast like a meteor. The magic flame engulfed the creature’s eye in a flash of white light, blinding it on contact and consuming its ratty hair in fire.

The champion leapt through the air. Using the fire’s updraft of smoke, he reopened his paraglider, sailing into the sky with ease to resume his bomb arrow assault. The veteran, never one to be left behind, continued whaling on the monster’s feet with sword and ice.

A glint of silver tore the Skyloftian’s gaze away. The traveler stood bravely beside him, wielding a gorgeous, shining sword of silver and rubies, still shimmering with the last tongues of fire. The red stones flickered with barely contained magic… and so did the traveler’s deep forest eyes.

“So cool…” the sailor whispered behind them.

The traveler jolted a little at the praise. His eyes met the ground bashfully, but only for a moment. He shook his head, renewed vigor in his stance as he stared down the towering monster.

A large, worn hand clasped the traveler’s shoulder. The brunet jumped in surprise again, but his magic soothed as soon as he recognized the black-caped hero behind him.

“What are we, boys? Heroes or wallflowers?” the caped hero asked. “We’re not gonna let those two have all the fun, now are we?”

“Not if I can help it,” Warriors smirked, already eyeing the veteran’s ice rod enviously.

The tall, one-eyed knight nodded, his smile making the hero with the fur cape swell with pride. The older hero then squinted at where the fire had subsided on the monster’s head. “Smithy? Care for another flight?”

The shortest hero was already clipping on a cape of white feathers, smiling all the while. “You’ll have to toss me.”

“Done.” The one-eyed knight hooked the smith under the arms, spinning once and flinging the boy into the air.

The Hero of the Sky nearly had a heart attack as the hero’s small frame flailed, but in an instant, the cape fluttered, and the smithy was soaring and shooting arrows right alongside the champion.

“YEAH! All hands on deck!!!” shouted the sailor, dashing forwards alongside the black-caped hero and the captain. The three drew their swords as one, joining the fray like a swarm of angry wasps.

So many heroes doing what they do best… So many skills and talents at play…

The Skyloftian met the traveler’s anxious eyes, no doubt feeling just as overwhelmed as he was. He sent the younger boy a shaky smile. “Ready, Link?”

The traveler’s eyes widened. Slowly, tentatively, he sent him back a lopsided grin. “No.”

“Me neither,” laughed the Skyloftian. “Shall we go together, then?”

 The traveler nodded. “It’d be dangerous to go alone!”

The boy’s sword glowed with light, and the Chosen Hero readied his whip. Side by side, they charged, meeting their enemy with renewed fervor. With all the damage already done by the veteran and champion, and the added push from the army of Links, it wasn’t long before the monster began to topple.

The beast roared one last, angry howl before its body turned black. White and purple cracks shot across its form like lightning bolts, releasing ribbons of hissing purple steam. The creature seized up all at once. Then, fast as a blink, it shattered into glowing plumes of smoke, spreading rupees, materials, and goo all over the clearing.

The smithy and the champion landed next to each other in the grass, high-fiving instantly.

The veteran was fending off a very clingy traveler and the captain simultaneously, the latter of which already bargaining for a turn with the ice rod.

The one-eyed knight was patting the goo off the young man with the black cape in an almost fatherly way. He didn’t seem to even realize he was doing it. The younger man certainly made no move to stop him.

The Skyloftian jumped a little as a small fist thumped against his side. The sailor boy, covered from head to toe in dirt and goo, was leaning heavily on his sword, fist raised in victory. His smile was filled to the brim in youthful bliss.

“You guys are awesome,” he said, huge eyes sparkling up at the Chosen Hero.

The Skyloftian was struck by the sudden urge to tuck this little fledgling under his wing forever. He settled for draping his sailcloth around his shoulder, and remarkably, the boy didn’t protest. Instead, he leaned into the semi-hug, eyes still jumping from one hero to the next in wonder.

“Hey Bird Man!”

It took Link a moment to realize the champion was talking about him. The wild-haired hero jogged up to him, holding out the Master Sword in her scabbard.

“Here,” he said. “I think this belongs to you.”

“But—"

“I know. But I have way more swords than I know what to do with, and besides,” he winked, “I think she misses you.”

He tossed Fi through the air, and the Skyloftian caught her effortlessly. He couldn’t deny how nice it felt to sense her presence again, and it must have shown, for the champion was smiling brightly. The Chosen Hero decided that he rather liked this side of the young knight.

“Hey, if we’re just tossing around the Master Sword, can I call next dibs?” the veteran cut in, and they laughed.

“Of course,” the Skyloftian said. “She aids all of us equally, just as I said before.”

“Wow,” the veteran shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re way too nice? Call me a hoarder if you want, but I can’t stand it when people use my stuff, and here you are, letting everyone swing around your home-made immortal sword!”

“Home-forged,” he corrected politely, “and really! I don’t mind! Neither does she!”

The Chosen Hero’s neck prickled as he felt an army of eyes bore into him all over again.

Uh oh.

The sailor boy went rigid beside him. Slowly, as if Link would vanish if he moved too fast, the sailor looked up at him, his hand locked in a grasp on his tunic. “…w h a t…”

The others fared no better.

“I’m sorry… WHAT?” shouted the knight with the scarf as he half fell into, half grabbed the arm of the one-eyed knight. “Forged? The Master Sword?!?”

The older knight was going pale.

“Hoo boy,” muttered the black-caped hero, fingers digging into his hair.

“O-oh! Yeah, did we not mention he was the Chosen Hero?” the traveler scratched his nose nervously.

The sailor shot out from under the Skyloftian’s arm, hands curling deep into his golden hair as he spun around. “No way… NO. WAY.” He rounded on the champion. “No way?!? He’s not…” The champion nodded slowly, grinning. The sailor screamed, “HE’S REAL?!?”

Link clutched Fi to his chest like a lifeline, overwhelmed by his spiritual successors. He waved shakily. “Um… H-hi…?”

“Wings and waves…” the sailor swooned. The smithy caught his shoulders.

“S-so… just to get things straight,” the shortest boy said, his colorful eyes gleaming like starlight as he stared excitedly at Sky, “we’ve got THE Hero of the Sky in our midst?!?”

“First the Hero of Time, now the Chosen Hero…” the sailor confirmed, sounding giddy.

The champion balked, “Wait, The Hero of Time?!?!?”

Now everyone was freaking out.

The one-eyed knight looked over the frantic boys until he met the Skyloftian’s gaze. They stared at each other helplessly, silently empathizing over having no idea where to even begin.

“…It seems we have a lot of catching up to do,” sighed the Hero of Time. “This is a nice enough clearing, and it’s getting late. Break for camp?”

Shouts of agreement shot through the group immediately. Questions were already being tossed in all directions as bedrolls were thrown to the ground, each boy and man desperate for answers.

Link wrapped Zelda’s sailcloth around his shoulders more tightly.

This was going to be an interesting quest.

>>><<<

Masterlist | First | Chapter 3

Author's Note: While Wars may be the true group medic, I like to think Hyrule is also hyper aware of injuries as to not attract infection or monsters in the woods. =) Also, I'm not sure exactly how much they know about each other in LU or Zelda canon, but for this fic's purposes, I'm gonna say the boys know vague stories/myths/fairy tales of some heroes before them, but the stories are so old and warped that they're impossible to prove. Hence a lot of excitement! ^u^

Hope you enjoyed the continuing story! Feel free to drop a comment if you did!

Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!