Chapter Text
Wild woke when the first tendrils of dawn filtered through the windows of Dorian’s house. He sat up and stared around the room with bleary eyes and sluggish thoughts.
What ‘m I—sh*t!
As soon as the events of the previous couple of days processed in his brain, he leapt out of bed, barely keeping his volume down so he didn’t wake the girls. With a few taps, he brought up an energizing fish skewer for breakfast and took a look at the map while he munched.
Alright, that’s two down, Twilight and Four. That leaves six. Assuming the others are in the same situation, then there should be one member of the Chain at each point where there’s unusual Malice activity. I’ve still got the Hebra Mountains, Rist Peninsula, Hyrule Castle, the south labyrinth, Lanayru Promenade, and Damel Forest. Where should I go first?
He mused over the question as he finished his skewer and pulled out an apple. Lanayru Promenade was close—he wouldn’t even have to teleport, which was tempting. On the other hand—
It might be better to get the most inhospitable location handled first—or the one with the most trauma linked to it.
“Hm, no. Maybe not Hyrule Castle yet,” he murmured to himself, feeling a shudder creep down his spine. “And Damel Forest’s pretty far; same with the labyrinth. Hmm. . .”
Decisions, decisions.
He nearly flew out of his skin when he heard someone approaching the door. Without even thinking about it, he pressed a spot on his map and felt that tingle of Sheikah energy. Just as the door slid open, Wild felt himself be pulled away.
****
The first thing that registered as he reformed was cold. That told him exactly where he was, and he hurried to change into his Snowquill gear before his fingers could turn blue.
Ahhh, much better. Now, where exactly did I land?
He glanced around and sighed when he caught sight of the small hot spring. He’d chosen a shrine at the base of the Hebra Mountains.
Guess I’d better switch to those Snow Boots; otherwise this’ll take even longer.
Once the boots were firmly on his feet, he started his trek up the mountain. As an additional precaution, he pulled out a Great Flameblade. He didn’t need to be dealing with ice monsters in addition to whoever waited at the top of the Hebra Mountains.
At least this should stop fights quickly so I don’t waste too much time.
The hike took hours. The snowbanks reached up to his knees—deeper than usual—and the wind raged around him, blowing specks of snow in his face and making him shiver even with the Snowquill gear. Streams of Malice cut through the snow, billowing out enough steam to make it nearly impossible to see.
On the other hand, there weren’t monsters on the path—at all. Normally, he would see that as a good thing, but this. . .
Is the Malice driving them away? It doesn’t usually do that, but why else would the place be totally deserted?
As he got closer to the peak of the mountain, the air crackled with static and lightning flashed across the sky. He sighed and switched out his weapons for non-metallic ones—he couldn’t exactly put on his lightning-resistant garb and stay warm in Hebra.
That’s going to make this fight a bit annoying.
The wind picked up around him, whistling loud enough that he could barely hear his footsteps in the snow. He grimaced at the trails of Malice growing thicker and smothering trees, stone, and ice alike. But finally, he reached the top of the mountain. At first, he didn’t see anyone.
Then he looked up.
At first, all he could see was a dark blob, silhouetted by frequent lightning flashes. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, though, he picked out a vaguely Hylian shape with two pairs of wings. He sighed.
Alright, who am I dealing with now? I feel like Wind or Sky would have wings, so it’s probably one of those two—and that shape looks a bit too big to be Wind—
A bone-rattling shriek echoed through the sky, accompanied by another fork of lightning. The dark blob took a sudden nose-dive, and he had to roll out of the way before being impacted. He scrambled up as quickly as he could and winced.
“Whoo boy. . .hey there, Sky.”
Malice-Sky shrieked back, wings flaring behind him. One looked like a bird’s wings—albeit Malice-colored—but the others looked almost like. . . flippers?
Huh.
His eyes drifted down Malice-Sky’s body, and he bit back a groan at the sight of several solid-looking plates scattered over Malice-Sky’s skin. That would make it hard for arrows—or other weapons—to cut into him.
Dammit.
He snapped back to attention just in time to dodge Malice-Sky when the other hero lunged at him, aiming a visibly-sharp beak at his face.
“EEP!”
Cracking filled the air as Malice-Sky’s beak dug into an ice pillar, and Malice-Sky squawked, struggling in place with the beak stuck in the pillar. Wild blinked, processing the sight, then scrambled for his Slate.
Alright, what’s going to get through those plates?
Malice-Sky thrashed until he got his beak loose from the ice. The hero spun around, shedding Malice in a wide circle. For the first time, Wild noticed the large holes speckled over Sky’s body; all of them vented Malice. He narrowed his eyes.
Could I land an arrow in there—sh*t!
He ducked a sudden swipe of a wing and scurried across the snow to give himself some space. Malice-Sky hissed and took to the air, wings sending a flurry of snow up. Wild readied his bow and fired one of his normal arrows, but Malice-Sky dodged easily.
. . .I really should’ve expected that.
He stiffened as a familiar crackling filled the air, and he jumped to the side just in time to avoid a lightning strike. Even with his dodge, his hair frizzed up from the lingering static.
“Son of a—” He gazed up to where lightning flashed in time with the flap of Malice-Sky’s wings. “You’re joking!”
He can summon lightning?!
He scowled and ran to the ice pillar with the fewest Malice patches and scrambled up. The wind howled louder around him, and as soon as he got to the top of the pillar, he jumped off with his paraglider open to catch the wind.
Alright, let’s try this again.
The world slowed down and he fired an arrow at one of the holes on Sky’s hip. He watched, nerves alight with anticipation, and almost cheered when the arrow hit true. Malice spurted from the hole and Malice-Sky shrieked. Lightning crackled around the corrupted hero and the wind blew even faster.
Hmm. . .
He let the paraglider carry him along the updrafts, steadily drifting closer to Malice-Sky. Said hero thrashed, spraying drops of Malice in every direction, along with tattered purple-black feathers. His eyes widened when little sparks of yellow-white started jumping between Malice-Sky’s wings, but before he could shift his weight to glide away, electricity exploded out of Malice-Sky.
sh*t.
His muscles abruptly clenched and he lost his grip on the paraglider. Next thing he knew, pain blossomed along his back and through his limbs, and he blinked fuzzily up at the white–speckled sky.
What the. . .
His chest convulsed and something metallic filled his throat. It took a moment for his brain to string the correct thoughts together, but finally it clicked. He was on the ground, after falling who-knows-how-far due to electrocution.
Which means there’s probably internal bleeding. Splendid. I’m gonna need to adjust the plan.
He slowly pushed himself up, spitting out mouthfuls of blood. As soon as he had himself somewhat balanced, he pulled out his Slate.
Come on, I’ve gotta have a hearty elixir somewhere, or a fairy, or something —I can’t be all out!
Finally, he found one of his last hearty elixirs and downed the bottle’s contents in one gulp. The pain eased, and he allowed himself a few minutes to cough up the rest of the blood from his lungs before getting back to his feet.
Okay, new plan. Do I have any electro elixirs left? Or electric-resistant dishes?
He flipped through his inventory, scowling when he came up empty-handed— but he did have some spicy elixirs.
Then let’s hope these’ll stack right.
He downed one of his strongest spicy elixirs, and as soon as he felt the heat in his belly, he changed into his rubber suit and picked up his paraglider once more.
Let’s try this again.
****
By the time Malice-Sky sprouted eyes, he had no more spicy elixirs or dishes, and the biting cold was starting to press through his suit. But he ignored the discomfort and just readied his bow.
This is it.
He activated Stasis just to be sure and rolled through the snow to Malice-Sky’s back, where two eyes sat in the join between the wing pairs. Two arrows flew through the winds, and the eyes shrank and puffed into nothing.
Now, where are the others. . .ah!
One last eye protruded from the Skyloftian’s chest, and Wild let the world slow down around him. As the winds went silent, he fired his last arrow—he’d need to get more before his next stop—and it plunged right into the pupil.
Malice-Sky promptly plummeted to the ground, sending up a puff of snow. Wild dashed to the other’s side, hopping over new puddles of Malice. A pool of the noxious stuff spread out from the prone Skyloftian, steadily melting the snow around it. Panic fluttered in Wild’s chest.
Could he suffocate from being face-down in snow?! Is it spreading like blood because he’s bleeding internally like I was?! sh*t sh*t sh*t—
He flipped Sky onto his back, barely noticing the sting, and gagged. Malice poured from every little vent on Sky’s body, along with his nose, eyes, and—oddly enough—ears.
That would explain the puddle, I guess, but is it not coming from the mouth this time—?
He cursed the thought when Sky’s upper body jerked and the other hero coughed up a massive glob of Malice directly into his face. He hurried to scoop up snow to wipe it off and cool the burn, then moved out of the line of fire and thumped Sky on the back.
“Easy-y there, Ch-Chosen.”
Feathers fell and melted into goop as the plates and vents dissolved into nothing. Finally, every trace of Ganon’s taint vanished, and Sky slumped against him, perfectly normal once again, if looking strangely small without his sailcloth and the Master Sword. He huffed a sigh of relief.
“T-th-there you g-g-g-go.” A shiver tore through him and he glanced down at himself.
Oh right—the rubber suit is not warm. I should fix that.
He pulled out the Slate with painfully-numb fingers and found his Snowquill gear again. The Rito down brought blessed warmth across his body, and he tucked himself under Sky’s sailcloth—just to speed up the process, of course.
. . .Now to teleport back to Kakariko.
****
As soon as they reached Ta’loh Naeg Shrine and he could feel his legs again, he staggered off the platform and doubled over. Bile, half-digested food, and concerningly bright liquid splashed onto the forest floor as his stomach cramped and twisted itself into knots.
Ugh. . .I can’t tell if that’s from teleporting or from the fight with Sky.
Finally, the flood died down and he forced himself upright, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He glanced back to check on Sky and had to force back a whimper at the idea of dragging the Skyloftian to the village below—or to Cotera, even.
“Link?”
Oh, thank the Goddesses.
He turned and waved to Cado and Dorian.
“Hi. Can you two get him down to the inn? I don’t think I can drag him down on my own.”
“I should think not!” Dorian’s face steadily reddened; the man looked absolutely aghast. “Where were you?”
“Hebra. His clothes are built for cold temperatures, so he’s probably not hypothermic, but. . .?” He shrugged helplessly. Cado sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Link, you’re covered in blood and Malice burns. With all due respect, it’s you we’re worried about.” Then Cado squinted. “Were you wearing your cold-protective gear? You look a little hypothermic yourself.”
“It was this or get fried by lightning.” He deliberately ignored the dawning looks of horrified comprehension and pulled out the Slate. “I’m going to get more arrows; I’ll be back with the next one in a day or so if all goes well.”
“Link, don’t you dare—!”
****
He nearly fell flat on his face upon his arrival at Mirro Shaz Shrine, but just barely managed to get his balance before he tasted dirt. The world spun around him and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Note to self: teleporting with people should be done in extreme moderation, especially after difficult battles.
He only opened his eyes when he felt his stomach settle, but the dizziness didn’t fade. As such, he moved slowly and kept one hand on rocks and the cliff wall alike to keep himself upright. The ground wavered and rolled under his feet, and he wiped sweat from his brow.
Is it supposed to be so hot—oh!
He picked up his Slate with fumbling fingers and changed into his usual tunic and trousers. Cool—but not cold—air blew past him and some of the dizziness passed.
Okay, just—go to the stable, buy some arrows, make some elixirs, and decide where to go next. Maybe have a little rest by the cookpot. I can do this.
It felt like an eternity before he reached the stable and the stable dog ran up, eagerly sniffing his legs. He gave the sweet creature a few pats and ambled over to where he could see Beedle and his familiar pack.
“Oh! Well if it isn’t—goodness gracious, Link! Are you alright?!” Beedle nearly fell over on his back—just like his namesake—as he approached. “You look like you’ve faced the wrong end of a Moblin’s spear!”
“I actually think a Moblin would’ve been an easier fight.” Definitely would be easier—we’re the ones who usually beat the Moblins, after all. “But yeah, I need more arrows—and some hearty lizards, restless crickets, tireless frogs, and fairy tonics if you’ve got them.”
“I mean, I do, but—” Beedle quickly regained his composure, although the merchant still hadn’t pulled out his wares like he usually would. “Are you going right back out?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” When Beedle opened his mouth again, he pulled out a couple hundred rupees and two energetic rhino beetles. The merchant’s eyes locked on the insects, just as he’d hoped. “So, what’ve you got?”
The rest of the transaction proceeded without a hitch. As he stored the last of his newfound goods in his Slate, someone called out his name.
“Link! LINK!”
He turned and saw Spinch practically fall out of his saddle in his rush to dismount. His eyebrows rose to meet his hairline.
“Spinch? You usually don’t come up to Woodland.”
“I’ve been hunting around for you!” Spinch ran up, chest heaving. “I was in Central Hyrule to see how the rebuilding is going, and it’s swarming with weird spider things!”
“Spider. . .things?”
“Yes! They look like they’re made of that Malice stuff, which is already weird, but they’re all over Hyrule Castle! I think some of the Guardians are active again too.” Spinch shook his head, still gasping for breath. Wild felt his heart drop.
“Has anyone—”
“No deaths yet, but a lot of injuries,” Spinch finished, finally straightening up. “Can you take a look?”
“Yeah—yeah, of course.” He pulled out his Slate and swallowed down the anxiety that rose at the sight of Saas Ko’sah Shrine’s icon—purple-pink, just like Toh Yahsa. “I’ll go right after I make some elixirs and dishes.”
Guess that’s where I’m going next—West Entrance, here I come.
