#big fry

When Aryll had first been whisked away by the Helmaroc King, Link had no clue just what he was getting himself into. How could he? He was just an island boy, with no experience outside of what his friends and family on Outset had taught him.

Orca had trained him briefly in the way of the sword. His dear old Granny gave him the shield their family passed down for generations as an heirloom to keep her dear grandson safe.

With those two things and the aid of Tetra’s pirates, Link was sure he could take on the world. At the very least, he should have been able to get Aryll back no problem.

Right?

Wrong.

What had started as a mere rescue mission had grown wildly past anything the boy had ever imagined.

The living, talking boat The King of Red Lions that saved him actually housed the spirit of an ancient Hyrulean king from a sunken kingdom.

The courageous pirate Tetra was actually the beautiful Princess Zelda in disguise.

Even Link played a larger role than he ever thought possible. He was actually the reincarnation of a heroic swordsman as old as myth itself. It was up to him to stop the evil Gerudo king Ganondorf from getting his hands on the princess and Triforce, and destroying life as the boy knew it in pursuit of his dark intentions.

But, despite all this pressure hanging heavy on his shoulders, Link was still just a boy. Saving the world was exhausting work that had him up at all hours, even the middle of the night when the situation called for it.

He grew tired, so much so that there were times he struggled to keep his eyes open, especially as he steered his magic boat through the Great Sea.

“Easy there, Link,” came the King’s gentle, fatherly voice. “You’ll steer me into an island if you’re not careful.”

The boy opened his mouth wide in a yawn. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m just so sleepy.”

“Then lay back and rest your eyes. I’ll tell you if we come across danger.”

“But-”

The King of Red Lion’s long neck turned to get a proper look at Link even as he kept sailing onwards. There was a stern look in his painted blue eyes.

“Swordplay grows careless if a swordsman is exhausted. Mistakes are made. Lives may be forfeit.”

Link swallowed hard, well aware of the gravity of his situation without the Hyrulean king reminding him of it.

Still, the King continued on, “We cannot afford to fail. Princess Zelda waits for our return.”

First, though, Link had to awaken the Sage of Wind, return the Master Sword to its former glory, and collect the scattered shards of the Triforce of Courage. That would take far more than a single night to accomplish.

“Fine, but promise me you’ll wake me up if anything happens.”

The King gave a hearty laugh. “Yes, yes. You have my word.”

That was good enough for Link. He made himself as comfortable as he could on the boat’s small, wooden deck, his pointed hat folded and tucked under his head to serve as a makeshift pillow.

All it took was Link closing his eyes before he found himself fast asleep.

A moment more, and the dreaming boy was back in the Earth Temple he just purged evil from.

The groans of the damned echoed through the foggy, maze-like rooms.

The boy looked around for the exit, or at least a door to somewhere else. As if to spite him, the room seemed to shrink, the coffin against walls looming ever closer.

“No, please no!”

Link banged on the walls for an escape until he felt something tug at his ankle.

“H-hello?”

He looked down, but there was nothing there.

Link ran his palms over the walls, looking for some sort of mechanism to return the room to its former size. He found nothing.

Again, something tugged at his ankle, harder this time. The boy looked down but couldn’t see past the mist, even when something with a bruising grip pulled him to the floor.

“Hey, no fair!”

The hero reached for his sword and shield, but found both were missing. He checked his pockets, but all his other belongings seemed to have vanished too. Link had no way to defend himself.

He saw it then, something dark moving through the fog, crackling with malice and static.

“What is that?”

It took the boy only a second more to realize, but it was a second too late.

“A floormaster!”

A black arm accented by violet light shot up from the ground, electricity crackling around its base.

Link tried to run, to scream, to do something, anything - but it was too late. The hand’s long, spindly fingers grabbed his neck and squeezed. Link tried to pry the monster off of him, but it was no good. The floormaster was just too strong.

Link couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe.

But he could feel the hand drag him towards the shadowy portal it

The hero’s body felt like lead. It didn’t matter what he tried, he couldn’t kick or scream or fight. He couldn’t do anything but accept his fate.

Link’s body was dragged into the shadowy portal. He opened his mouth to scream and the world went black.

The boy woke up with a start. His small hands felt his body and neck for injuries, but only found the dampness of sweat. His chest heaved with each labored breath.

Somehow, he was alive. That terror had been nothing more than a dream.

Thank goodness…

The King of Red Lions watched over him like a worried father. “Bad dream?”

The boy nodded as he fought back tears. “I hate floormasters.”

The King barked out a mirthless laugh. “You’re not the first hero to say that.”

“Really?”

“The Hero of Time hated them too. He said he hated the way they split into three when he cut them down. Then he’d have to cut them down again.”

Link shuddered. “I’d hate that too.”

The boat nodded in agreement, before asking, “Do you want me to tell you more about the past heroes until you can sleep again?”

The boy nodded. “I’d like that a lot.”

Link sat back as the old King told him stories of heroes long since passed until he felt safe enough to sleep again.