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English
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Published:
2023-07-14
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1,364
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1/1
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256
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and in the face of death, time marches on

Summary:

The blonde’s eyes lock with Sky’s, and he shivers. They’re steel, undeterred. “I’m the one who went to Dark Link. And, frankly, I don’t particularly care what his intentions are. He wants to waste his time trying to kill y’all? Whatever. My goal is someone else, and he’s my best shot.”

“Who?” Time’s voice is low.

The blonde smiles. Doesn’t respond.

Time growls, a sound Sky hasn’t heard him make before. “*Who*, you son of a bitch.”

A laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m gonna kill Hylia, and a little birdie told me sky boy here’s my ticket to ‘er.”

---
A small oneshot exploring the concept of what would happen if Wild was evil

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Sky swallows, hands shaking. The master sword lies on the ground in front of him, right where he dropped her. His hand burns.

In front of him, the chained blonde just laughs. He fought like a hurricane-- powerful, unpredictable, unrelenting. They’d barely managed to knock him out, tie him up, and now they stood, facing him. And the master sword had burned Sky’s hands when she’d faced the blonde.

“Didn’t think it’d still consider me a hero ,” he rasps, eyes glittering. “Guess we all gotta be wrong about something.”

“Shut up.” Sky can see Legend’s hands clenching.

The blonde closes his mouth, raises his eyebrows. He’s still grinning.

“Why?” Sky hates how quiet his voice is, but he can’t will it to be louder. “Fi told me you fought Ganon twice . So why join Dark Link? Don’t you know what he’s done?”

“‘Course I do.” The blonde’s eyes lock with Sky’s, and he shivers. They’re steel, undeterred. “I’m the one who went to him . And, frankly, I don’t particularly care what his intentions are. He wants to waste his time trying to kill y’all? Whatever. My goal is someone else , and he’s my best shot.”

“Who?” Time’s voice is low.

The blonde smiles. Doesn’t respond.

Time growls, a sound Sky hasn’t heard him make before. “ Who , you son of a bitch.”

A laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m gonna kill Hylia, and a little birdie told me sky boy here’s my ticket to ‘er.”

Sky swallows again. His throat is thick, dry, and it fights him. He wants to step back, wants to move, wants to run and find his Zelda and make sure she’s safe. Because-- well, the blonde is right. Killing any Zelda won’t kill Hylia. It’ll end the bloodline and do a pretty good job at shattering whatever balance the world has, but it won’t kill Hylia . But his Zelda? Killing her may very well actually kill the goddess. He’s admittedly not totally sure if it’ll actually happen, but he’s not keen on testing the theory.

Twilight growls, far deeper than Time’s, in the way only a wolf could do. “And what, exactly, did she do to you ?”

“You’re cute.” The blonde grins brightly. “Don’t worry, Wolfie, in fifty years you’ll be on my side. But to answer your question, She took everything from us. Me and Zel, though somehow Zel got the short end of the stick. For what it’s worth, Zel can’t continue the bloodline, and the only reason she hasn’t strangled Hylia yet is ‘cause I told her to let me try first.”

Silence settles. With the blonde’s gaze broken, Sky’s feet finally work, and he can take a step back.

Wind elbows Twilight harshly. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“How the fuck do you know about Wolfie ?” Twilight hisses, ignoring Wind.

“Uh--” Four cuts in, glancing around nervously-- “What, exactly, happens if the bloodline is broken?”

“Evil takes over,” the blonde cheerfully responds. “Assuming it exists, anyway. Technically we have no proof that the Calamity won’t return again, but I did destroy Ganondorf, so something in me says that that won’t be an issue. But it doesn’t matter, because Hylia’s power would be too weak by then, anyway.”

“What?” Sky squawks. He almost slaps a hand over his mouth at his stupidity, but decides to let the ball keep rolling, glaring at the blonde. “That’s not how immortality works .”

“Oh?” the blonde asks. “You of all people should know a god can die. Who’s to say they can’t age? Who’s to say She’ll have any power left, soon?”

Warriors huffs. “Sure. And your proof?”

“Give me the master sword.”

Sky’s hackles instantly rise, and he can see the rest of the group bristling. The blonde just sighs. “You already established that you can’t use the damn thing against me. What am I gonna do, use it against you lot? You really take me to be that much of an idiot?”

Shit. Sky-- Sky hates that he has a point. Hates that he wants to know , now. If the future is really as bleak as the blonde makes it out to be. If Hylia actually loses Her power. Almost against his own mind, he kneels, reaching for the sword.

“Sky-- !” Warriors hisses.

“He’s right.” Sky doesn’t look away from the blonde as he carefully reaches out, resting the sword in the man’s lap. “And-- I need to know.”

They don’t need to wait long. The sword ages before their eyes-- metal losing its sheen, numerous chips and scratches littering its surface, the once-ornate handle scuffed and dull. The handle and base of the sword are clearly older than the rest of the blade, somehow, but it still looks no different from an average sword. It’s not just the result of being mistreated or mishandled-- no, Sky can barely even feel Fi, beyond the faintest hum. This is a master sword that’s aged, that’s too weak to even fix itself properly.

“It’s not going to last,” the blonde announces to the shocked room. “It already breaks all the time, barely scrapes itself back together. The sealing power is there, sure, but this is how it looks after being repaired for thousands of years. If the Calamity returns, it’ll be in ten thousand years, and I don’t think this thing’s gonna make it that long. Zelda bloodline or no, this is it.”

“And the Triforce?” Time’s hands are clenched, knuckles white.

The blonde shrugs. “Best guess? Gone. We didn’t know of it.”

Somehow, Sky isn’t even surprised. Hyrule, this kingdom he’s pouring so much into creating, ends. Not with a bang, not with fanfare, but with the slow, eternal erosion of time. There’s something final to the blonde’s words-- the idea that this is it -- and Sky can’t help but believe him.

Legend sighs, walking over. “Sure, the future’s bleak or whatever, but you don’t gotta go killing Hylia over it. And, to the rest of you, there is in fact a surefire way to make sure he doesn’t try to shatter the timeline.” He doesn’t elaborate, but the sword clenched in his hand is explanation enough.

“Go for it.” Despite it all, the blonde has yet to lose his cheerfulness. “She’s well aware I’m trying to kill Her-- I told it to each of Her statues before breaking ‘em, if you’re wondering-- and She still brings me back when I die.”

“What?” Sky snatches the master sword, backing up. “Why would She do that?”

A shrug. “Beats me. Oh, and if it helps, I’m planning on killing the Hylia of my time. My goal is revenge, not worldwide destruction. Sky boy, I just need yours to figure out how to get to mine .”

“No.” He doesn’t need to think of the words. “You won’t.”

The blonde tilts his head. For the first time, the smile slides off his face, leaving behind an utter, serene calm. “And how are you going to stop me,” he asks softly, “if even She aids me on my quest?”

He speaks with reverence, Sky realizes. For all they joke about using ‘She’ instead of ‘she’ for Hylia, the words sound different when you say them. And for all his speech, it’s abundantly clear that the blonde still reveres Her. Still treats Her like a deity, even if he blatantly spits in Her face. And, in turn, She treats him like a hero, granting him access to the sword and bringing him back when his job isn’t done.

Sky doesn’t know why She’s helping the blonde. But knowing of the aged master sword, of the evils the blonde defeated, of the loss of the triforce and the end of the Zelda bloodline, he’s starting to get an idea.

He sheathes the master sword.

“Sky?” Hyrule asks, worry laced through his tone.

The blonde’s eyes bore into his own. He can’t look away. “Without darkness, there is no light,” is all he can mutter. “And without light, there is no darkness.”

He hates that the blonde doesn’t grin, doesn’t smirk, doesn’t laugh. Hates that the blonde just watches him calmly. Hates that he just watches back. Hates that for the first time, he doesn’t want to back away.

Notes:

this began as a “haha what if wild was just actually evil” and ended as an existential look at time and the finality of immortality... woops

upd8: i made a tumblr @ok-pop-1 ? mostly just for posting art but if y'all wanna chat feel free to pop over