tales for the ages

“Please don’t come inside. You will live to regret it.”

Pamela peeks her head out from the door of her little music box home, trying not to stare too hard into the eyes of the very scary-looking mask. She already has trouble getting over her fear of Gibdos, the Moon is falling, and now there’s a weird creature with a mask...

jim stood, staring down at the flyer in his hand after hearing the announcement greeting the guests. “g-grooseland.” he muttered before glancing around. “it’s impressive, though, man, this puts fyre’s cannon to shame.” 

“It’s a bit of a silly name, to be quite honest... but it seems... rather fun.” The sorceress muses aloud, eyes darting around the woods in search of the Statue of the Goddess. The engineers did an awfully good job at obscuring the landscape, much to Cia’s frustration.

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“The hatred you hold for me in your hearts... all of it is justified.” Hylia does not often respond to the anger and pain of those below her, for she has long since abdicated her responsibility after placing her divine power in the hands of a mortal. But the cries echo especially loudly today, and from the spirit realm a voice flows into the ears of those in the world of light.

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The Goddess knew the source of that voice when the simple prayer reached the heavens- it was the reincarnation of her beloved chosen hero. The poor soul had been through so much, enduring the worst pain and darkness imaginable, and now came a cry for help, a request for a delicious meal. Beef stew, to be exact.

Hylia rarely got involved in the affairs of mortals after she abdicated to Zelda her responsibility as guardian of the Triforce. But the request was something she was uniquely capable of fulfilling, it was a wish she granted to her chosen hero long ago as he healed from the wounds of his imprisonment. Furthermore, Hylia knew Farore would surely not get involved herself to answer this fervent prayer.

And so Hylia descended from the heavens before the Hero of Time, her raiment shimmering with a divine light; in her hands was a bowl of beef stew, just as the hungry hero had requested.

“I am the Goddess Hylia... the guardian of the Spirit Realm,” her voice echoed, a voice gentle and yet powerful enough to stop time itself. “I have been sent by the gods of old to grant this wish to you... please accept this gift.”

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Another skirmish with a demon battalion, perhaps one that Demise had sent as a scout- and Hylia had managed to dispatch it quickly without needing to send the knights. It bought her valuable time, but some of her wounds risked becoming infected with malice. To purify herself, she decided to bathe under the waterfalls of the Skyview Spring, the divine waters healing her wounds and making her stronger.

As the water washed over her body, soaking her dress, her scales began to show underneath her skin, glowing with a radiant light. Her ears transformed into wing shapes; her nails formed into claws. A tail faded into view from her back, curling around her body; horns appeared from her head, pointed and regal. And most impressive of them all, grand, sturdy wings emerged from her shoulders, sparkling from the droplets of water. Her body was very much still human-like, but the healing process revealed the draconic power that rested within her, in the form of the Crest of Nayru.

Footsteps echoed behind her, and although Hylia did hear them, she did not attempt to hide her form from the visitor. For she knew that this was Link, her Chosen Hero, the one mortal she trusted most in all the world. Surely, he would understand the power required of a Goddess to protect her people.

Though he lays in comfort of a bed that he has so long yearned for, his mind does not feel at ease, eyes glossy as he is deep in thought. It is almost a relief to have been pulled away from that, as he turns to the unexpected, but welcomed visitor. “Ah, no need to apologize, your grace. I quite prefer the company.” Just the gentle heaving of her breath felt comforting as opposed to the suffocating silence just moments ago. 

Feeling the heat of the soup as it placed besides him, he returns the gratitude with a weak, yet sincere smile. “Thank you.” A pause. 

“Please, take a seat if you wish. After all, you’ve come all this way.” He gestures to a seat beside him. It wouldn’t feel right to send her off. Though if she did not wish to stay, he would not force her either, regardless of how he felt. 

With hands so slender and delicate, he then slides the tray over to his lap. The intense fragrance hits him in seconds, causing his stomach to coil inward. However, he pushes through the initial nausea, having slowly gotten back into the habit of eating properly.  

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“You are very kind, Link... I shall accept the invitation to stay.”

A gentle smile forms, and Hylia’s worried expression softens- it will be a difficult road to recovery, but it is during this precious time together that Hylia can forget about her duty, at least for a little while. Link’s kindness, his adoration for his home and the people of the land- these admirable qualities have not been undone by his imprisonment. All seems to be going well, and the power Link needs to fight against the demon king will soon be gifted to him.

So perhaps, in this moment of respite, the goddesses can allow her this brief moment in time to grow closer with her Chosen Hero, and give him someone else to fight for. With that in mind, she sits at Link’s side, warm light radiating from her form. Hylia stays quiet for a while, preparing her thoughts, her heart pounding from nervousness. She refuses to burden Link with the question too soon- but eventually, her curiosity can no longer wait.

“If I may ask... what compelled you to bid me stay?” she asks, with an almost childlike inquisitiveness in her voice, while at the same time carrying a bit of uncertainty; is this an appropriate question? she thinks to herself. “To explain... I have an unsteady feeling in my heart when you enter my thoughts, though it is pleasant rather than distressing.” She hopes this explanation is enough, for the nuances of human emotions do not come naturally to her, much to her frustration.