Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

hearth \ˈhärth\ n.

1 : a furnace where metal is heated to be forged.

2 : symbol of one's home.

Deep under the Hyrule Castle, ancient murals told the legend surrounding the demon king, Ganondorf. 

He was drawn as a red-haired man of gerudo descent. With a towering figure and command over monsters and gloom, he sought to conquer Hyrule with a tyrannical fist. 

Each time the demon king rose, he was thwarted— felled by the princess with the blood of the goddess and the hero chosen by the sacred blade. Together, they would seal the demon king away time and time again—until he broke free from the seal once more.

For more than ten thousand years, Hyrule had not seen the demon king. The land flourished during this long era of peace, and the ancient murals faded from history into a folk legend.

Until one day, Zelda woke up with a radiant golden light bathed around her hands. The back of her palm shone gently in the shape of the legendary triforce.

Despite being a gift from the ancient goddess, its sudden appearance was deeply unsettling to the royal family. They couldn’t shake off the sense of urgency and bad omen.

King Rhoam summoned the scholars of ancient history and devout priests of Hylia to unravel the meaning behind the golden light.

With the priests guiding her, Zelda managed to cast a weak glow around the size of an apple—but nothing more. However, the scholars were certain; her sudden awakening of sacred power could only mean one thing.

The demon king had returned.

All at once, reports of increased monster attacks poured in from across Hyrule. The security at major towns were increased, and citizens were urged to refrain from travelling unarmed.

To quell the unease within the people, the king launched a desperate search for the chosen hero.

He issued a decree, mandating that every knight must attempt to pull the sacred blade from its pedestal in the Korok Forest.

But each and every knight returned unsuccessful.

The king then called forth every man above the age of sixteen. Whether they were a noble, farmer, doctor, or even a servant— everyone was required to pull at the blade of evil’s bane.

When that failed, King Rhoam widened the search to women of all occupations. Then boys and girls above the age of nine.

Despite all efforts, the hero—was still nowhere to be found.

The unease continued.

Weeks passed as Zelda watched her father spend nights, hunched over his desk like a candle at its wick’s end. Tirelessly, he split up cavalry to protect more towns, and issued decrees to draft more knights. He’d sigh with heavy disappointment when the priests reported that none of the day’s batch of Hylians were the destined hero.

Then, to everyone’s horror, the chasms struck— scattered all across the kingdom with no rhyme or reason.

Chasms— wretched pits of poisonous gloom— spat out floods of monsters that razed down the towns in its vicinity.

Villagers watched helplessly as their neighboring towns dispersed and evacuated. They cowered in fear, praying that their hometown wouldn’t be the next to fall. 

No one could predict which town would be next . The Hylian army was stretched thin as it already was. They simply could not fortify every single settlement.

Zelda watched on as the demon king seized the entire kingdom in terror in a matter of months—without showing his face once.

Zelda knew then, Hyrule was dealing with a force that was cunning, ruthless, and extremely patient. A war strategist mastermind who carefully calculated every move, and knew how to bide his time for his schemes to unfold.

But the demon king was also a coward, if Zelda had to be honest. All this time, he’d been sending monsters and chasms to terrorize Hyrule— from wherever he was hiding. 

Zelda didn’t know for sure how exactly the demon king summoned all these chasms from the safety and comforts of his lair. But she’d heard rumors.

The refugees called him the gloom swordsman. He was spotted a few times standing at the edge of a chasm, with a long black sword that radiated darkness.

No one ever got close enough to make out exactly how he looked— but he was easily identified by the swirls of sickly gloom obscuring his entire figure.

Run as fast as you can if you see him, the refugees urged. It doesn't matter if you know how to fight; no weapon can protect you against his gloom. 

While Zelda wasn’t surprised that the demon king had a henchman to do all his dirty work—it begged the question of: what exactly was the swordsman? What sort of thing was Hyrule dealing with here?

An evil spirit? A demon? A monster?

But as more witness reports surfaced, an unsettling montage started taking shape.

Beneath all the layers of gloom licking at his pallid skin, the swordsman under Ganon’s command— much to everyone’s horror— was a small, blond Hylian boy no older than sixteen.

If there was one hope during this apocalyptic crisis, it was that gloom dissipated under Zelda’s sacred light.

She discovered it when she placed her hand on a sickly maid, who had gotten too close to a chasm. Her power sunk through her ashened skin and slowly chased out tendrils of black and red. 

Although Zelda’s fledgling power was too small to face the demon king, she could still purify chasms and cure gloom-borne sickness, slowly and surely. She could form and assist research teams to investigate the origins of gloom.

She could help, even if just a little.

Her father vehemently objected to her plan. With her power yet to be fully awakened and the hero still missing, if danger came upon her, Hyrule would lose all hope against the demon king. 

But in the end, he relented. Under the condition that she be guarded at all times by four of the kingdom’s best warriors.

Zelda agreed, of course. She would be useless if she were dead.

So, with the four champions, Zelda took off and arrived at Castle Town shelter first, attending to the sick and using her golden light to dispel the gloom festering under their pale skin. The champions took to the town overrun with monsters and began clearing its infestation. 

At the end of each day, Zelda trudged back to their camp, exhausted.

Once every gloom-infested villager had been treated, she shifted her focus to the chasm. 

She joined her party at the outskirts of town, where the champions were holding the chasm’s vicious monsters at bay. The research team finalized their gloom sample collection and observation reports.

It was now Zelda’s turn.

She stretched out her hand and concentrated on her holy power, pouring out a sliver of golden light. The chasm, however, didn’t disappear overnight. Dispelling it entirely was a long, drawn out process that would take more than half a lunar cycle. 

Every evening the chasm shrunk bit by bit, and she’d be utterly spent, leaning heavily into the champions’ arms to carry herself back.

Her sacred light powers served to recover the wreck gloom had dealt to Hyrule, although in a painstakingly slow process. But she was tentatively optimistic.

With enough time and research, the Sheikah would surely find other ways to protect the kingdom from gloom’s harm. Until then, she could only hope that the demon king would remain content in hiding.

Zelda skidded across the forest, chest heaving in panic. Her heart pounded in her chest, air scraped down her dry throat.

Monster jeers and trampling footsteps closed in behind her. 

She didn’t dare glance back— she couldn’t afford to. If she tripped on a tree root, she’d fall right under the mercy of the red bokoblin’s spiked club.

Darting between the dense wall of trees, Zelda scrambled over uneven ground, full of rocks and dips. She kicked up dirt, and collided through low branches.

She and the champions had set up camp at the south lakeside; she swore that it was around here.

As long as she spotted the big rotting tree stump landmark near the camp— she’d be fine.

Keep running, Zelda told herself as her legs began to give out. Muscles ached, and her clothes snagged as she tore through a clump of bushes.

A sudden loud snort erupted behind her, followed by a provoking chatter.

Zelda couldn’t help but glance behind— and a gasp caught in her throat.

A single bokoblin had turned into an entire hoard— and somewhere, somehow a lizalfos started chasing her too. 

With a scream leaping up her throat, Zelda put more spurt in her legs.

How did she get herself into this? A simple morning walk around the lake shouldn’t have gone so pear-shaped. She should have listened to Urbosa and stayed put near the campside; she should have asked one of the champions to escort her. 

But she insisted on being left to her thoughts, and now she was alone against the hoard of monsters. 

A thick wall of bush emerged ahead of her. Her eyes widened; it was too late for her to twist her body into a turn. She had to run through the bush. 

Squeezing her eyes shut and pulling her arms up to brace herself, she rushed through with a shriek. 

Urbosa was going to be so disappointed—!

Zelda knocked straight into something solid—except. It wasn’t entirely hard, yielding easily under her hands. 

Tumbling, she tripped over her feet, losing balance. A firm yank wove around her waist. 

Something dull hit the soft grass. She heard a soft, breathy “ oof” as she dove face first, right on top of—

Zelda’s eyes snapped open to the color of skin, then to the sight of faded scars criss-crossing across a bare chest.

“W—what on earth—!” She pulled herself back with an undignified yelp, scrambling back to gain distance.  

Messy wheat-colored hair, tied in a half ponytail. Wide blue eyes. Mouth hung open in surprise. 

Judging by his rather small build, the boy couldn't be older than Zelda herself. He was dressed in gold accented armor and flowing dark robes that covered half his body. The dyed colors and familiar patterns on his clothes oddly reminded her of Urbosa’s armor.

“Move!”

Zelda startled at the boy’s harsh yell. He jerked her arm and pulled her aside. She skidded atop the grass, sleeves staining with green, and her arms hurting from the fall.  

Before she could protest, a sharp thwack rang behind her.

Then, monstrous screeches.

Her heart thudded loudly. Blood pulsed in her ears as Zelda whipped around. She’d forgotten about the monsters chasing her—

The lizalfos lay on the ground; tongue out, belly side up and unmoving, with an arrow stuck right between its eyes. The rest of the swarm had frozen in their spot, eyes burning in fury at the boy. 

The boy straightened his posture and lowered his bow.

A standstill; a staredown between a boy and monsters.

One blue bokoblin pushed its way to the front, chittering and screeching. It pointed a sharp finger at him and let out a loud shriek. Attack him—!  

Zelda frantically glanced at the boy’s robed back. He just had a bow in hand, and his quiver was near empty. For one to battle against so many was impossible.

She gathered strength in her legs to stand, but the moment she did, the ground shook.

The air plummeted in temperature and became tinged in blood red.

Her stomach dropped when red gloom burst from the ground below.

A chasm—?! she thought with despair. Why is it here?

Horrified, Zelda watched the gloom flood the grass, heading straight towards the boy. But instead of consuming him, it swirled around him, flickering with a sickeningly gentle sway against his skin.

The bokoblins halted their attack, beady eyes widening in fear.

Then, they all turned tail and fled.

A swordsman surrounded by gloom; a blond Hylian boy armed with a black sword—

Zelda’s blood turned to ice.

Her gaze trailed to the black katana blade that had been sheathed at his hip. Red and black flickered ominously around his body, licking at his wheat blond hair and his scarred pale skin. 

Oh, goddess— it was him.

“Princess.”

The boy—no, the gloom swordsman —turned around, lowering his bow. He stared at her with sunken, dark-rimmed eyes, with a vast emptiness in his gaze. 

She willed her legs to move, to get away, now —but terror grounded her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe—

Zelda opened her mouth to scream but—

His gaze seized her with fear. 

Oh Hylia, forgive me.

From his side, he raised a hand, the gloom circling around his wrist. Zelda flinched, bracing for the sweeping rush of pain that’d soon consume her. 

But, a beat passed.

“Your camp,” he simply said. “It’s that way.”

She chanced to open her eyes, seeing that he was now pointing off in the distance. His expression remained stoic, his gaze still empty. Those blue eyes shifted off Zelda and to the trees. 

“Head straight until you arrive at the lake, then follow the lake with it on your left. You’ll be able to see the smoke from your camp’s fire above the trees.” He looked back at her, blankly. “The monsters should have cleared the forest for now.” 

Zelda’s heart beat noisily, pulsing through her head. Was he helping her? Sparing her—? Or was this the beginning of a chase between a hunter and his prey— only that the hunter gave her a chance to run first, as fast as she could.

She didn’t have time to think.

Swallowing hard, Zelda pushed herself to her feet and willed herself forward. With one step at a time, she passed the swordsman, half-expecting to be cut down. 

But he made no motion as she passed; her voice slipped out with a frantic breath.

“Thank you—!”

Zelda’s calves burned as she ran, muscles seizing and her feet digging into the soft earth. 

Head straight until you arrive at the lake— he had told her. Then follow the lake with it on your left.

She wasn’t sure if what the swordsman said was even the truth— why would he tell her this if he was going to hunt her anyways? Her breathless gasps scorched down her throat as she swallowed thickly. She had to make it to the camp before her limited time was gone.

You’ll be able to see the smoke from your camp’s fire above the trees. The monsters should have cleared the forest for now.

She ran through the eerie silence, hearing nothing but her ragged breathing and frantic steps. Birds chirped and critters buzzed. But there truly were no signs of monsters or their crowing. 

Along the edges of the trees, she spotted it— black smoke billowing into the sky. There were frantic voices, raised one over the other—

“The soldiers will split into two groups— all of us will comb the forest—” 

Zelda finally burst through the trees and stumbled up to the camp. Her eyes teared with relief the moment she saw the blue garb of the champions. The commotion broke the champions’ focus and they swiveled around. 

“Little bird—!” 

“Princess, what happened?!” 

She crashed into their group, falling into Urbosa’s open arms. Her breathing scattered and burned. “I saw him— I saw him—”

Tears bubbled out of her eyes, her throat seized up with relief.

She was safe. She made it back.  

Without needing another word, Daruk rushed forward, hand gripping the hilt of his stone breaker. Revali took to the sky, bow drawn and alert. Both stared deep into the forest, weapons aimed and ready for the assailant. 

“To your positions!” Urbosa commanded the Hylian knights. They swiftly wove a tight perimeter around camp, armors screeching as they readied their stances.

A still moment passed— nothing emerged from the forest. 

Lowering his bow, Revali flapped his wings, suspending himself in the air. “I’ll scout the area, and report back.”

And he disappeared with a gust of wind. Daruk and the soldiers stood at standby.  

Urbosa and Mipha escorted Zelda into the innermost tent, mindful that her legs wobbled as she walked. They led her to a bench, and Mipha quickly sat beside her, taking note of the small rips in her clothes.

“Princess, what happened?” Blue light emanated from her fingertips and spilled over her scrapes. A cool, tingling sensation washed over her, and began mending her stinging skin. “Were you being chased?”

Zelda took large gulps of breath, still feeling her heart pounding like a rabbit fleeing from a predator. No, it was more accurate to say she was the rabbit fleeing from a predator.

“A boy,” she stammered, voice cracking in two. “With gloom—” 

Zelda pressed her hand to her chest; phantom pain lingered from when her lungs seized up in terror earlier. She recalled the cold sensation, the sudden flood of the dark inky mass spilling from his feet. 

It had burst out of nowhere from the ground— overtaking the green grass and turning it dry as it rampaged.

“The gloom moved so fast— I would’ve died— I could’ve died— and I—” 

Her breath caught in her throat again, bursting into shallow gasps.

She remembered vividly— the swordsman slowly turning towards her, ready to lunge, red gloom swirling around his wrist—a sick parody of her own golden light in her palms.

And his eyes were so hollow, like a vast void of lifeless blue—

“Little bird, take a deep breath.” A warmth landed on Zelda’s shoulder, gently steering her panicked thoughts away. “You’re safe now, we’ve got you. You’re all right.”

Urbosa’s voice continued in a low, soft timber. Reassuring.

“Take the time you need.” 

Closing her eyes, Zelda nodded. She took a deep shuddering breath, and held it slowly. Exhaled. Inhaled again, this time with purpose. 

Her breath began to even out; her eyes drying from her relieved tears as she turned her gaze around her. 

A low wooden table in the corner of the tent. An oil lamp sitting on top, emitting a soft orange light. She had lit it this morning, when she was organizing her notes in the dark. And her green linen blanket and bedroll were neatly folded in a pile next to it.  

From outside, she heard familiar voices rumble. Daruk’s booming pitch stood out, among the low murmur of Hylian knights.

A soft blue light still wrapped around her arm. Mipha’s slight frame leaned closer, eyes crinkled in worry.

Zelda met Urbosa’s sharp teal eyes under knitted brows; she was hovering with just as much concern.

Swallowing thickly, Zelda assured herself. She was at the camp right now—back with the champions. 

Somehow, she made it out alive.

She was safe.

“I— I think,” Zelda started. “I met the gloom swordsman.”

“The gloom swordsman—?!” Both Urbosa and Mipha’s eyes widened in alarm as Zelda slumped into the bench, all the tension leaving her body all at once. 

“Did he hurt you—” Urbosa glanced at Mipha who answered her with a shake of her head.

“No,” Zelda answered and her composure broke into a regretful sob. Sheer terror coursed up her again, remembering how she pushed herself through the trees, bokoblin jeers hot on her trail. Lowering her face into her hands, Zelda cried in frustration. “I— I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have gone alone— there were bokoblins— so many of them coming after me— I just ran and ran. Until I met him.” 

Mipha opened her mouth, and closed it. She seemed to consider something, and then nodded patiently, encouraging her to go on. 

“The monsters followed and— he chased them away with his gloom. I thought he’d kill me. He— told me how to get back to camp,” Zelda’s voice came out small, but it didn’t waver. “I wondered if it was a trap of some sort. I didn’t stop to think. But that swordsman— he could have killed me .”

A stunned silence fell over the tent. 

Urbosa clenched her fist, but her voice was gentle, and patient when she spoke again. “Little bird, are you sure that he didn’t harm you in any way? Are you feeling discomfort in any way?”

With one lick of a tendril’s gloom, Zelda could have been inflicted with the bone chilling illness that so many townspeople had suffered. But as she felt Mipha’s warm light, Zelda felt nothing aside from weariness dragging on her bones.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m quite alright…”  

A silence overcame them. Then Mipha’s blue healing light wavered, as she hesitated, speaking in a soft voice. “What in the world is the gloom swordsman doing here?”

“If he is rumored to be the origin of the chasms, then I find it hard to believe it was just a coincidence that he was here.” Urbosa put her hand on her chin, eyes narrowing in thought. Her gaze was troubled and stormy. “...He knows exactly where we are. He must have been following us for a while— waiting for a chance.” 

Zelda’s heart sank, watching as Mipha nodded with a grim downturn of lips.

“If that is so, we must increase our security,” Mipha added. “To think that the gloom swordsman is now after the princess’ life…!” 

But if that was so— then why would he have—

“And all done, princess,” Mipha’s words interrupted her.  “I’m relieved that you made it back safely. Please rest up for today.”

After a gentle flick of her wrist, the blue light dissipated. 

Zelda mumbled, “Thank you, Mipha.”

Before leaving the tent, Mipha nodded at Urbosa, “I’ll speak with the others and let them know about the swordsman.”

After that, it was just Urbosa and Zelda remaining in the tent. Zelda lowered her head, feeling a hot flush spread across her face. “I’m sorry I walked off on my own. I promise to not do it again.”

Urbosa looked unhappy, but she held her disappointment in her chest and just sighed. 

“As long as you’re aware, apologies are not needed. Now that he has shown himself— we won’t let him get to you, little bird. We’ll make sure of it.”

“But I don’t understand why he would spare me—” 

“It may have just been a whim. We don’t need to understand why. Just know that he won’t spare you next time. We mustn't risk anything like this happening again.”

And Urbosa’s firm tone put an end to that conversation.

A strip of silver moon cast a dim glow across Zelda’s lap. Outside her tent, Zelda listened to the faint crackle of campfire and the soft murmurs from Revali and Mipha.

With a deep sigh, Zelda settled into her bedroll, pulling her blanket up to her chest.

Although she was utterly exhausted, she couldn’t sleep. Her mind was still reeling with everything that happened today, replaying fragmented events in a loop. 

“It may have just been a whim. We don’t need to understand why.”

What Urbosa said was most likely the truth, but Zelda had a hard time believing that she was spared just on a whim.

Everything had been aligned so perfectly for the gloom swordsman.

Zelda had been alone. Unarmed, and out of reach of any of the champions. She was being chased. She was exhausted. The bokoblins had unwittingly delivered her right to the gloom swordsman on a silver platter.

If he had wanted to— he could’ve struck her down. 

Pulling her head under her blanket, Zelda squeezed her eyes. 

Never once has she ever seen gloom rush that quickly out of the ground. At most, chasms slowly crawled their way outwards, consuming everything in its path. It’d spit out hoards of monsters that razed down villages.

Her sacred powers didn’t make her immune to gloom’s harm. Whenever she sat near the edge of a chasm to purify it, she felt waves of nausea and deathly chills shooting straight through her ribcage, down to the center of her heart.

She was able to hold the sickness at bay, only because she took frequent breaks away from the chasms.

Had the swordsman decided to drown her in gloom today— with her powers still as weak as they were now— she would have died just as quickly as anyone else.

Zelda pursed her lips, and then gnawed at her thumb in deep thought.

In just a few months with nothing but gloom, Ganon divided the kingdom's resources and conquered countless towns. It was one of Ganon’s deadliest weapons that seized everyone with fear.

And when she finally ran into the person likely responsible for all these chasms— the swordsman did not kill her, even when he had so many chances.

She collided into him when he had a bow in hand— but he did not kill her. 

She froze in fear when he summoned a burst of gloom— but he did not kill her.  

And when the monsters cleared, leaving her alone with him, he gave her clear directions back to her camp. He could have steered her elsewhere, perhaps into a well-laid trap— but he did not lie; he did not give chase.

He let her walk away, unharmed.

He did not kill her.

Zelda turned to her side again, staring at the soft silver glow spilling onto her bedroll, with more questions than answers.

Perhaps she was going about this the wrong way. She had been trying to study a single tree in its finest details, when what she actually needed was distance to observe the entire forest.

Was it possible that the gloom swordsman did not actually serve the demon king? But if he wasn’t operating under Ganon’s orders— then, was he working alone?

But if that was the case, how could a mere Hylian boy gain control over gloom? Unless Ganon allowed it himself, no one but the demon king would have command over gloom like that.

That still wouldn’t explain why the swordsman, if working alone, would create chasms everywhere. But if the swordsman served the demon king— why did he spare her?

Questions after questions with no clear answers circled in her head like a whirlpool.  

Exhaling in frustration, Zelda abruptly sat up from the bedroll. She sat for a moment, taking deep breaths. It felt too stuffy inside the tent, enclosed within its walls and her thoughts—she needed fresh air. 

Zelda crawled out from her bedroll, shuffling the sheets away. She gently lifted a corner of the tent cloth, and peered outside.

A burst of cool night breeze rushed past her.

Mipha and Revali fed small branches into the dying embers of the campfire, their faces lit in soft patches of orange light. They had their weapons within their grip— no doubt, keeping a keen eye despite the late hour. 

Above them, the moon hung low and fat, bathing the dark forest in a gentle silver glow. 

Revali’s eyes immediately snapped toward Zelda, lifting a questioning brow. “Princess, is something wrong?”

Though his tone was anything but sharp, Zelda flinched at the speed in which he noticed her. His talons had tightened over his bow, though his wings remained crossed. 

Next to him, Mipha perked up, glancing at Zelda in surprise. A look of concern crossed her features. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Feeling self-conscious under their gaze, Zelda shook her head sheepishly. “Um, no. I’m fine. I’ll go back to sleep.”

With a sigh, she withdrew into her tent, back to the silence of her bedroll.

Laying down, Zelda stared straight up at the tent ceiling, swallowed in the darkness and her reeling thoughts.

Omake:

Chapter Text

At the crack of dawn, Zelda retraced her steps, leading Daruk and Revali back to the spot she had met the swordsman the day prior. 

They finally came to the familiar clearing, now bathed in a dim, early sunlight. Bokoblin footprints and marks from her boots remained. Dirt and gravel had been kicked up from a dent on the ground.

This was where she fell on top of the gloom swordsman.

Yet, the soft morning glow filtered between the forest’s luscious green leaves. Around her, sparrows chirped; critters rustled. 

It was— peaceful.

There were no monsters, no sign of gloom— no chasm.

Zelda felt the weight of the champions’ confused gaze.

“I know what I saw. Gloom appeared from the ground, right around here—” Zelda said, dropping to her knees and searching through the mussed grass. Her fingers grazed against the dirt, as if somehow a hidden chasm would unearth itself.

“It came from here and stretched to that tree—” But as Zelda turned around with a finger, she met Daruk and Revali’s stares. She deflated, feeling put out. “It happened— really.” 

The Goron scratched the back of his neck. Eyebrows scrunched, he gave the area a swift look around, once again confirming that there was no threat to be had.

Revali placed a wing tip near his beak with a thoughtful hum. For someone who had stood guard all last night, he exercised a surprising amount of consideration. “It’s a good thing that there’s nothing here. Had another chasm opened, we’d have to stay here longer until it’s closed.”

The champions were much too careful to doubt her words. But after bringing them all this way— Zelda felt almost betrayed to find absolutely nothing here.

Not that she would celebrate if there had been a chasm, but still! 

Zelda turned a stubborn glare at the dent in the ground, willing it to offer her any sort of answer. She had heard reports that wherever the gloom swordsman went, chasms were bound to appear.

Yesterday, Zelda saw him summon gloom in this very spot. A chasm should have taken root by now— but it hadn’t.

If the swordsman wasn’t here to leave a chasm, then what exactly was he doing here in the forest? Could he have been truly following them all this time? Stalking, and waiting for the best opportunity to strike? Then why on earth would he just let her go like that—

Zelda blew her hair out of her nose with a frustrated huff.

Much like the previous night when she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep— her questions piled high with no definitive answer. Her mind kept churning with no end.

Feeling all the more self-conscious that she was squatting in the dirt, Zelda returned to her feet and dusted her knees with a sigh.

“I’m sorry for wasting everyone’s time. Let’s go back and pack up.”

Zelda and her entourage took to the roads again, heading east to Hateno—with more caution than ever.

Everyone snapped into vigilance after hearing that the gloom swordsman was tailing after the princess.

Under Captain Hoz’s leadership—and a bit of Urbosa’s meddling— the knights were restructured into frequent patrol rotations and a tighter guard around the perimeters of camp. The champions also sunk into their duties with such a solemn air that Zelda felt too sheepish making light conversations with them— lest they became distracted.

Thankfully, despite the danger of a potential attack looming overhead, their journey turned out rather uneventful.

Within a few days, they arrived at Hateno Village without delay or interruption— coming upon the town gate while the sun was still high.

Revali took to the skies and reported back what they had expected: the village was overrun with monsters. Jeers echoed from shattered windows, and black smoke rose from burning roofs. Monsters lounged around the homes they had taken over for themselves.

For as much as the champions and knights were ready to storm the village to rescue survivors, Revali noted that other than monsters, there were no signs of life— or death. No bodies were found amongst the rubble, but that made Zelda more uneasy.

What happened to the villagers? Where did they go? 

But no matter how much the knights circled the premises, they couldn’t locate any signs of a hastily built shelter. Either the villagers miraculously escaped or— the monsters already rid of everyone, even their bones.

With growing anxiety, Zelda and her party searched all over the village outskirts. They checked caves and forests for possible signs of a campfire or temporary settlement, to no avail.

Zelda had almost lost hope until the champions pushed back the monsters to the northern tip of the village— and saw raised tents amidst the fumes of red and black.

Printed on the canvas was the familiar eye of the sheikah.

“Purah—!” Zelda cried, rushing up to the familiar figure of the head sheikah scientist. “You’re safe!”

Purah looked at her in surprise, and then at the champions that had spread out behind her. 

“Princess, you made it!”

Zelda grabbed her sleeve, her words tumbling out, “Oh, we couldn’t find anyone— anywhere!” She swallowed past an anxious knot in her throat. “W-what happened to everyone? Are they safe—?” 

Purah’s warm hand closed over hers. “Don’t worry— they were able to evacuate safely to Firly Village.”

“Oh, thank Hylia,” Zelda felt the weight suddenly sag off her shoulders. Purah reached out to help her balance on her feet. 

“But how— what happened? I thought the chasm would've struck before everyone escaped!” 

“Well—” Purah scrunched her eyebrows in thought. “Apparently, the mayor was rounding everyone up to leave. Manny had been ringing a bell to wake everyone up. I didn’t hear it, but one of the children came to pound at my door.”

Zelda felt her jaw slacken in surprise.

For an entire village to evacuate safely before it became overrun by the chasm and its monsters—it was unheard of. No other town had been as lucky.

“A coordinated effort—the mayor’s quick thinking saved the entire village,” Urbosa spoke up. Her jewelry chimed as she approached Zelda and Purah. The chieftain’s sharp eyes roved over the tents, where a few sheikah soldiers sat down to rest, chugging down water skins and checking over their rucksacks.

“Kakariko was also very swift to send their people here,” Urbosa noted.

“Oh, no— we were quite lucky,” Purah tapped her recorder against her hand with a nod. “There was already a squad at Firly— on the way back to Kakariko. But I had them come with me to investigate the chasm up close and—well…”

Purah threw an uneasy look towards the gaping hole behind her. Aided by the Hylian soldiers, Daruk and Revali had already begun suppressing the moblins on the other side. Mipha was tending to the sheikah soldiers’ injuries nearby.

A sheepish smile crossed Purah’s face, as she reached up to scratch the back of her head.

“I guess it wasn't the best idea I've had— I knew there'd be monsters, but not this many! If you hadn’t come, I think we'd have been swarmed.” She shook her head before a cheerful grin stretched over her lips. “But never mind that— I’ve collected a lot of fresh samples! After a bit of testing, I should have some results ready for you soon.”

“Oh, I look forward to it!” Zelda replied with a faint smile. Her eyes drifted down to Purah’s white robes— her sleeves were cuffed with dirt and grime, but there wasn't anything reminiscent of the gloom’s muck crawling on Purah’s skin.

“I’m really glad that you’re unharmed— you've no idea how much I was worried. Please have the sheikah soldiers rest for now. We’ll take over from here.”

After giving Purah’s hands another squeeze, Zelda let go and turned to the side. “Mipha, is there anyone here stricken with gloom?”

The Zora Princess gave her a glance and a prim smile— “None here. Everyone’s managed to avoid it.” 

“Then we’ll head over to Firly Village,” Urbosa announced, giving Zelda a nod. “People may have escaped the worst of it, but I’m sure there are some sick with gloom.”

Purah had taken to sitting at a nearby wooden trunk, exhausted. She waved her hand towards the forest. “If you take a horse, it’s not too far from here. Just half an hour away down the trail.” 

Mipha and Daruk were instructed to remain with the rest of the soldiers at Hateno, while Zelda headed to Firly with Urbosa together on horseback. Revali flew ahead of them, scoping out for potential danger.

They rode their horses through the gaps of trees, feeling the wind against their faces and leaves brushing their shoulders.

Zelda squinted through the dappled sun and peered through the foliage. 

“The village is right up ahead,” Revali’s voice rang from above. Powerful gusts rattled the trees as he swooped lower and descended. Within a few gallops, Urbosa and Zelda broke through the forest and climbed uphill, following the worn path stamped with footprints and mule hooves.

Zelda had not heard of Firly Village before; she could only assume it was a small settlement that made its home on the Firly Plateau. If it hadn’t been for Revali, they would have most likely gotten lost the moment they entered the forest.

Squeezing the body of her horse, Zelda sped up as the wooden town gates emerged ahead of them. For such a small village, there seemed to be a large crowd bustling near the entrance.

Zelda and Urbosa held the reins as they trotted to a slow stop. Revali fluttered to the ground behind them.

“The princess— the champions!” The gatesman gawked, jolting to his feet at the royal blue color on their clothes. “Her highness is here—!”

Alighting from her horse, Zelda raised a friendly hand in greeting. “Yes, we’ve come to see if there are any—”

“Hurry— the mayor!” The gatesman’s face went white, as if he’d seen a moblin. “We must call the mayor!”

He grabbed the other two gatesmen and scrambled away, leaving Zelda and the two champions outnumbered by whispering townsfolk.

“They seem to have plenty of energy,” Revali snorted, tucking his wings in. He glanced around, surveying the modest wooden houses. “Though, I’m not seeing any tents for the sickly.”

“There must be at least one or two,” Urbosa tutted, resting a hand on her hip. “We shall see.” 

“Princess Zelda—!” A voice broke through the crowd. The townspeople parted, creating a gap for a Hylian man to dash closer.

“Goodness gracious— thank you for coming all this way, your highness! Had we known earlier, we would’ve been more prepared to receive you!”

The mayor—presumably— was a tall, middle-aged man with a dark brown beard and mustache. He looked a little gaunt, eyes sunken from lack of sleep.

Zelda gave him an assuring smile, having long gotten used to how the townsfolk balked at her unexpected appearance. “Please don’t worry. There’s no need at times like this— we’ve heard that everyone at Hateno had gathered here?”

“Yes! All of us are here, every last one of us—” the mayor tripped over his words with a nervous smile, wringing his hands awkwardly. “We’ve made sure no one was left behind, and counted every head!”

“That’s great to hear.” Zelda cast a glance around. The villagers hadn’t stopped staring— even more were spilling out of tents and houses to take a peek at the commotion near the gates.

There were certainly a lot of people.

“These are my champions— Urbosa and Revali. They’re here to assist me.”

“What a pleasure to have the esteemed champions come to our aid— oh— oh, I apologize! I’ve completely forgotten my manners, your Highness—” he bowed his head, hand placed over his chest. “I’m Reede, mayor of Hateno. Please let us know if we can help you in any way!”

Zelda nodded. “Then let us begin by treating those sick with gloom— if you could be so kind as to lead us to where the patients are…?”

“Sick—?” Reede gave her a long stare with a puzzled smile. The spectating townspeople exchanged confused glances with one other; some had a hand on their chins and eyebrows raised. A light of recognition crossed Reede’s eyes. “Oh—! Yes, I recall that terrible sickness— drains the vitality out of your soul, I’ve heard. Well, by Hylia’s blessings— no one here’s fallen ill!”

Zelda’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh— that’s— that’s good! All the other towns so far have been afflicted by gloom— so I had assumed the same.”

“Thank goddess for her mercy— we were all able to escape before any monsters swarmed.” 

Urbosa hummed, pleased. “You have an amazing intuition to have rounded everyone up to safety so quickly, Mayor.”

“No, no, it’s not me,” the mayor shook his head furiously. “It was just that so many odd things happened that night. You would’ve been running too if you were there!”

A chorus of villagers burst into chatter behind the mayor.

“I swore I thought the end was coming!” an old man’s voice wheezed from somewhere in the crowd. “The sky turned bloody red—! It was terrible.” 

“It wasn’t just the sky—I was out near the forest for a patrol that evening,” Another man spoke— a veteran soldier that had retired to the quiet hills of Hateno. “All the monsters had gone, like they’ve all just up and disappeared.”

A young woman next to him balked. “Disappear? Do you not remember their horrid screeching? I was putting out the candlelights when it shook the entire house!”

Several villagers bustled in agreement.

The mayor raised a hand to his chin. “I recall hearing a loud, eerie horn. I thought to myself, with all the unsettling news of gloom and monsters lately, it would be best for all of us to leave at once. We all filed out, brought everyone— even the sheikah up in that laboratory, out here to Firly.”

“But… I don’t see that boy anywhere—” an old lady croaked, pushing her way up to the front with her walking stick. “That night, I saw a young Hylian standing far up on the hillside. I told him it was dangerous. That he needed to come with us, but he didn’t budge! I only hope he made it out safely.”

“Eh— that was a person?! I thought he was a ghost!” a child cried, throwing his hands out. “He was just watching all of us run out like that!”

“But we’ve accounted for everyone here. Was he a traveller, then?”

“There hadn’t been any young travellers staying at our inn for the past week…” 

Zelda felt a chill creep down her spine, her eyes widening. “Ma’am, if I may ask— do you remember if he had blonde hair? Wore a dark robe?”

The old woman fell deep in thought, eyebrows scrunching tight.

“Mm, it was rather dark that night,” she coughed. She looked up and shook her head. “No one could see much past the red sky. But… he did have blond hair, yes.”

Zelda cast a glance behind her, meeting the heavy gaze from Urbosa and Revali.

“I see… thank you.”

After confirming that every villager was free of gloom, Zelda and the two champions quickly returned to the Hateno chasm.

Located on the northeast tip of the town, the gloom had eaten up what would’ve been green hills and lively farms. Wooden posts had deteriorated from the gloom’s crawl, the livestock had run out from their enclosures.

When Zelda arrived, several soldiers were setting up their tents next to the sheikah’s. It seemed that the chasm had successfully been contained— with Captain Hoz instructing a group of soldiers around its perimeter to cull any monster before it could fully form.

“Thank you all for your hard work. I’ll begin purifying the chasm,” Zelda announced, handing over her horse’ reins to one of the men. As Zelda strode to the edge of the chasm, one of her maids brought a Hylian cloak for her to wear.

Despite the heat of the afternoon sun, a shiver ran through Zelda’s body as she neared the dark red pit.

Pulling the hood around her shoulders, Zelda sat down on a tree stump. Daruk and Revali resumed guard on either side of her, their weapons in hand and eyes alert.

With a deep breath, Zelda brought forth her hands and began her work.

Her palms glowed a soft gold, as she directed the light in front of her. The tar-like gloom withered under its gentle rays and began receding on the dry grass.

Bit by bit— Zelda pressed her lips thin and concentrated.

Behind her, she heard Daruk shift his weight on his feet. His quiet voice came out in a loud rasp. “Couldn’t help but notice… you three came back quickly. I’m guessing no one from Hateno is injured?”

To her left, Revali let out a soft snort through his beak. His wings fluttered as he fiddled with his bowstring. His voice was low and quiet, barely audible over the crinkling grass. “Thankfully no. We heard something interesting instead— though, I’ll tell you about it later. We mustn’t disturb the princess.”

“Right—” and then in a louder voice, Daruk cleared his voice. “Apologies, princess.”

The two champions fell into a watchful silence as Zelda let her mind drift, remembering the frantic way the villagers told her what had transpired that night. 

The entire sky had turned red.

Monsters disappeared from their usual hideout in the forest. 

Horrible screeching shook the houses and rattled everyone from sleep.

The eerie sound of a horn bellowing through the air.

For a long while, the villagers argued over the exact order in which the unusual events occurred, their memories having been jostled through their panic. But Zelda assured them that what she had heard was more than helpful.

Most notably— the sighting of the gloom swordsman atop the hillside. 

Zelda was certain it was him— watching everyone flee with his soulless gaze— but she couldn’t help but wonder— why?

A wave of distaste unfurled in her stomach. 

Was he watching everything unfold in sadistic joy? Did it please him to watch helpless villagers scrambling away from their beloved home?

Her lips twisted in a frown as she stared deep into the murky chasm.

No— that didn’t quite make sense. If the swordsman was as sadistic as his master, then he would have slaughtered everyone completely before they all escaped to Firly, unharmed by gloom or monsters.

He wouldn’t have stood on the hillside, watching and doing nothing. 

Moreover, these unusual incidents of the reddened sky, monster screeches, and the horn sound— what did they all mean? Were they somehow related to the chasm and the gloom swordsman?

Zelda pursed her lips in contemplation.

Perhaps— these incidents could have been part of a procedure needed to summon a chasm.

Although Zelda and her group had journeyed to razed villages and healed gloom-stricken folks, she had not once thought to ask them about what they’d seen prior to a chasm’s strike. Amidst the chaos and mayhem, the villagers likely hadn’t seen these events as a sign to flee, and instead hid away in their homes in fear— only to be overrun by the monsters and the chasm’s gloom.

But if Zelda was able to confirm if these incidents were consistent across previous chasms, then— these signs could serve as advance warnings.

If all of Hyrule could be informed of what all these meant—red sky and all— then everyone would have a better chance of safely evacuating before disaster struck, like Hateno had. 

A thread of tentative hope began welling up in her chest.

This would be a monumental discovery that would minimize casualties and sickness. Zelda couldn’t wait to share her findings with Purah and the others of the Gloom Research Team—

“Master Revali—! Apologies for the interruption, but there is an urgent message—”

Zelda jolted from her thoughts, as a gust of wind swept around her. Her golden light flickered.

Daruk and Revali had their weapons drawn, though upon seeing his fellow Rito, Revali slackened his bow. A rattling sigh hissed from his beak. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me, Gesane.”

A brown-feathered Rito warrior had descended behind them, looking out of breath and a bit frazzled. He followed Revali’s pointed gaze towards Zelda and bowed hastily. “I apologize, princess, for interrupting you—”

Zelda closed her palms, letting the last of the golden light flicker away. “No, it’s quite alright. I’m due for a break anyways. Please carry on.”

Revali threw a sharp glance around the chasm before he gave Gesane a demanding look. “What’s this urgent message?”

“Yes, well— last night, there’s been an attack,” the Rito began as he fumbled out a rolled piece of parchment from his bag. Revali received it, unfastening the twine and unfurling the scroll. 

An attack? Zelda wondered uneasily. She watched Revali scan his eyes over the message, his face darkening with every moment.

After a beat, Revali lowered the parchment. His wingtips clenched tighter around it, crumpling the edges.

“A chasm split open near Toto Lake at dawn. That bastard of a swordsman had been keeping himself busy,” he paused, and then glanced at the Rito. “Gesane, are there any casualties?”

“Most of the warriors were able to escort the villagers away, but— the gloom had taken over the bridge by the time the village was alerted. The elder wants you to come back.”

Revali furrowed his brows.

Zelda’s heart fell to the pits of her stomach. For every chasm she purified, yet another one opened. She was much too slow to keep up with the gloom swordsman. 

Swallowing thickly, Zelda spoke up. Her voice wavered.  “Revali— you should— no, you need to go back. You must assist your people.”

“No, I’m staying here,” Revali replied with a click of his tongue, displeased. “This very well may be one of his cowardly traps— if I leave, there will be one less champion guarding you. I’m not risking that.”

“But the swordsman struck Rito Village just last night— he couldn’t be following us anymore,” Zelda protested. “You don’t need to worry about us— we’ll be fine.”

Revali opened his beak, but Daruk interrupted with a firm shake of his head. “No, princess— the swordsman moves fast. If he’s able to travel to Rito from all the way here in just a short amount of time— there’s no telling when he’ll make it back. We need all the champions to protect you.”

Zelda looked helplessly between Daruk and Revali, meeting their resolute gazes and then sighed. She pressed her lips together, resigned.

“Gesane, tell the elder that I cannot assist right now. I trust Teba and the others to fend for Rito.”

The brown Rito didn’t look all too happy with the champion’s words but he bowed his head. His shoulders sagged. “Yes, Master Revali, I’ll head back right away.”

After a brief salute, the messenger kicked off in the air again, leaving them in a tense silence.

“I’ll…” Revali said, swiveling away, parchment still crumpled in his wing tips. His shoulders drooped as he ducked his head. “I’ll switch out with Urbosa.”

Zelda watched him leave in worried silence.

Five days.

It had taken Zelda at least five days to close the Hateno chasm. She could have been much faster— had her maids and Urbosa not urged her to take breaks.

Once the chasm was dispelled, word was sent to Firly that it was safe to return. But even as her entourage packed up camp to head westward next, Zelda couldn’t shake off the pressing urgency clogging up her chest.

Their next trip was expected to be a long, arduous one—to another chasm near Faron Woods that laid in ruin for weeks.

Discomfort gnawed at Zelda’s stomach as she raised her eyes to the sky.

It was a still, windless day, with warm air that gently floated by her cheeks. The sun was starting to bleed red and orange above. 

A whole day had already passed by on horseback as they started crossing the Blatchary Plains.

Stopping on a patch within the prairie, Captain Hoz announced that they would stop for the night, as it would be another half-day’s march to the nearest stable. There was a stream nearby where the soldiers could take the horses for a break, and forests abundant with mushrooms and wild berries.

It was during these times that Zelda felt rather useless— put off to the side with Mipha next to her. She watched Daruk help the soldiers arrange the heavy satchels of camp. Each knight took to their duty to unfurl the equipment needed for dinner— cast iron pots, buckets, utensils, and crates of provisions.

“We’re counting on you again, Revali,” Urbosa’s apologetic voice floated across the campfire. She handed him a quiver, stocked to the brim with arrows. “I’m sorry that I’m unable to join you.”

“It’s fine,” Revali scoffed. “At this point, you can say I’ve become a better hunter than a warrior.”

With a wry smile, he launched into the sky and took off in the direction of the forest. 

“Urbosa has been sending Revali to hunt by himself lately,” Zelda noted as she leaned forward on her seat atop a rock.

Mipha gave her a thoughtful hum as her trident jingled.

“We all agreed that he’s the fastest out of all of us,” she explained. “If anything was to happen to our camp, he’s the only one who can return right away.”

“I suppose you’re right. I just hope that he’s not overexerting himself— he must be very worried for his village.”

A strange air had fallen over everyone at camp when they had learned of the Rito being attacked— learned how quickly the gloom swordsman moved from one end of Hyrule to the other, opening chasms in his wake. Most notably, the soldiers gave Revali a wide berth.

“It’s best for Revali to keep himself busy— and I’m sure he knows that very well,” Mipha soothed. She took a step and sat down with Zelda. “When his Royal Majesty summoned us to be your champions, we swore an oath to fulfill our duty to protect you. While we can’t help feeling anxious, we are confident in our warriors to protect our homes.”

Zelda pressed her lips together, eyebrows dipping.

“But— the chasms keep opening— and my power…” She looked down at her palms. “It’s not enough to keep up.” 

A well of frustration began brewing underneath— at Hylia, at the swordsman, at herself. What was she doing just sitting here?

“Princess,” Mipha said, placing a cool hand against Zelda's arm. “That’s not something you should blame yourself for. You’re already doing all that you can, and we are seeing the results of that. Please don’t forget that you’ve discovered the key signs before a chasm break. Once the research team confirms these incidents and informs all of Hyrule— more people will be safe.”

Zelda looked down, her fingers curling within themselves. “I suppose you’re right.”

“If anything, we’re worried that you may be the one pushing yourself. Please take this time to rest, princess.”

Zelda gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Mipha.” 

A long silence settled over them as Mipha stood up again, straightening her trident near her side.

Zelda continued watching the knights hustle around preparing the pots and pans for dinner. Some men were putting down crates filled with colorful vegetables, fresh from Hateno. Despite their farms having been razed down, the people insisted on gifting their troops with a small crate of vegetables.

While she was disappointed in herself, the villagers cheered with tear-brimmed eyes filled with relief.

Even when Hateno was left with nothing, they sent her off with boxes of vegetables, thanking her profusely for closing the chasm as quickly as she did.

Zelda wrung her hands as she took another deep breath.

“You’re already doing all that you can, and we are seeing the results of that.”

Despite her anxiety churning in her chest— Zelda could see that time was still passing as usual.

Minutes went by amidst her maids instructing the knights on how to hollow out the pumpkins. Despite being proficient at wielding swords ten times longer, they fumbled with the carver knives.

Some knights bickered over whether the campfire needed to be stoked bigger. Metal cutlery clinked as they were pulled from their rucksacks. Her maid sharply chased away hungry knights from tasting the pot of boiling vegetable soup.

With a slow calm breath, Zelda looked up at the cloudless pink sky. She closed her eyes,  listening to the steady rumble of noise around her fade—

Into peace.

Into silence—

Into a sharp crackle, splicing through the air. 

A series of deafening blasts burst in succession and the ground shook.

Zelda gasped, eyes flying open to thick fumes that cloaked the once clear air.

Alarmed cries rang from left and right.

“We’re under attack!”

“Protect the princess!” 

Metal clanked as the rest of the knights scrambled for their weapons. Loud monster jeers cut through the smoke, adding to the cacophony of shouts.

Zelda’s heart pounded loudly in her chest.

She heard the chime of Mipha’s jewelry as the champion tugged her to her feet, and pulled at her wrist— hard.

She was yanked, forced to run blind—she couldn’t make out anything past the thick smoke.

She nearly tripped over her feet, but Mipha’s grip on her wrist was cool and assuring, pulling Zelda up. The Zora princess didn’t give her time to recover, sharply dragging her towards the left. 

The sounds of metal and fighting shouts were fading— Mipha was leading her away from their camp.

Pain laced up Zelda’s legs as she was pulled along, her muscles still seized from panic. 

Tree branches began catching into Zelda’s hair and her shirt. The smoke still hung heavy in the air. 

“Wait, Mipha— you’re too fast—” 

Zelda’s breath caught in her throat as she tripped over her feet.

But Mipha—instead of helping her up— shoved her down. Startled, Zelda collapsed onto the grass below as a sharp sting burst on her kneecaps.

“What—” 

Hissing in pain, she looked up—

—and saw the gleaming end of a sharp black sword, pointed right at her neck. 

Zelda’s heart stopped— it wasn’t Mipha.

Smoke swirled around the blade, revealing a flash of dark robes and downturned lips—and then a familiar empty blue gaze.

It was him. 

Zelda's heart thudded in her chest— one beat and then another.

Her own voice caught in her throat, eyes frozen wide. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe—

She was alone. 

Again. 

Zelda watched the tip of the dark blade tremble minutely before her eyes. A terrified sound escaped her lips, caught between a whimper and a laugh.

“But I don’t understand why he would spare me—” Zelda recalled herself once saying. To which Urbosa replied— 

“It may have just been a whim.” 

Yet Zelda had entertained the thought, wondering over and over why he spared her when everything had been aligned so perfectly for the gloom swordsman. Wondering why he let her walk away, unharmed. Wondering why he had not killed her.

But in the end, it didn’t matter.

Because here he stood before her again, with his blade grazing the flesh of her throat.

Ready to strike—ready to kill.

He would not spare her this time.

Zelda braced herself, her eyes squeezing shut.

A long beat of silence dragged on—

Her throat clenched as she waited for her memories to rush through her. Waited for her regrets and her dream to bubble to her mind's surface.

But the silence dragged on still— until her breath ran out and she was forced to gasp for air.

Slowly, Zelda cracked her eyes open, fearing that if she breathed wrong the blade would cut into the skin of her throat. 

The swordsman did not move. Had not moved.

The corner of his lips twitched just slightly. His scarred chest rose and fell with hoarse, stuttered breaths.

Zelda's gaze traced the edge of the blade up to his face, meeting wide, dull eyes. His pupils were dilated in— surprise? In determination? Zelda was too afraid to wonder. 

The sword still hovered against her neck. Unmoving. The cold steel was just a breath away.

The swordsman was frozen in place, just like she was.

Zelda’s lashes fluttered as she inhaled the smallest breath.

A small voice in her mind whispered a dastardly hopeful thought: was he— faltering?

“Get away from her!”

A booming voice shattered the silence into pieces. 

The swordsman jerked his gaze up, eyes widening just as a fiery red light erupted from their side.

And barreled straight towards them. 

With a choked scream, Zelda raised her arms, shielding herself from the rushing red light. But nothing struck her— instead, a towering shadow cast over her, covering her from the sunset glow.

“Princess, I’ve got you!”

The smoke had thinned out significantly.

Daruk had his fists raised, and with it his shield glowing with red bolts of power. Zelda cried in relief, “Daruk—!”

Gusts of wind whipped from above, dispersing the rest of the smoke away— Revali was back.

“Using puffshrooms— what cowardly tactics!” he sneered.

With the haze completely cleared from the air, Zelda could see that the gloom swordsman had been knocked away from her. He had fallen into a crouch, gripping the hilt of the blade that had been pointed at her a mere few seconds ago.

The swordsman barely raised his eyes to look at her before a series of arrows rained down from the sky. 

But faster than she could blink, he leapt out of the way, leaving arrows to pierce the empty patches of grass. 

Above her, Revali reloaded his bow, hissing. “Damn you—!” 

The swordsman swung his blade. With just a downward slash, a burst of gloom hurdled towards her. Sucking in a sharp breath, Daruk threw out his hands once again. His red shield quickly surrounded them both—

But it was too late. 

Gloom skidded across Daruk’s hand, shattering his protective barrier in an instant, and exploded into a loud crack behind them.  

Whipping around, Zelda saw the remains of a large tree that had taken the brunt of the blast. Its trunk splintered and eroded from the black fumes.

Daruk fell, for just a moment, cradling his left hand with a sore grimace. His wrist was coated in a tendril of sickening gloom that seeped straight into his skin.

“Daruk, the gloom—” Scrambling to her knees, Zelda placed her palms onto his arm. “I need to heal you!”

“It’s not a big deal, princess—” Daruk grunted, standing to his feet as he gently pushed her behind him. “Stay behind me for now—”

“That bastard’s getting away!” Revali yelled from above. His gust tore through the air as he gave chase. “He’s going west—” 

Urbosa lunged ahead, her electricity crackling behind her. With a flick of a hand, she pointed towards Mipha. “We’ll drive him towards the river!”

“Got it!” The Zora princess cried before she split off from them into the forest, giving chase.

^ This isn't exactly how it happens in the fic but you get the vision!! It was drawn before I actually wrote chapter 2 ahaha

Chapter Text

Tall grass whipped Urbosa’s calves as she blitzed after the swordsman across the Blatchary Plains.

A series of arrows pierced the ground, as Revali chased from above, tailing after the swordsman’s path. Revali’s arrows forced him to dodge, twist, and turn erratically— allowing Urbosa to close the distance.

She was just a breath behind him when she raised her arm. With charged strength, she swiftly swung her scimitar downward—

—and her blade rammed straight into his black sword. 

Green crackling bolts exploded as their blades clashed. But her lightning did not disarm him like she expected.

The force of the collision jolted through her arm, pushing her blade back. Urbosa inhaled sharply in pain.

Without a pause, the swordsman shifted. His blade screeched off her scimitar, before it lunged at her from below. 

Urbosa barely twisted away— hearing the sharp chime of the blade against her jewelry— and landed on her heels. He was fast— much faster than Urbosa could keep up with.

Gusts spilled onto her from overhead, as Revali flew in circles. Eyes drawn in concentration, he clenched his talons around his bow—but no arrows were fired.

“Shoot him, now!” Urbosa roared. “What are you waiting for?!”

“I can’t! You’ll get shot too!”

She grimaced as she readied her scimitar again. In close combat, the Rito’s help ended here, leaving Urbosa as the only one capable of subduing him.

The swordsman left her no time to think. His blade cut through the air with a menacing glint, rushing right at her.

She swung her arm, raising her golden shield. If she couldn’t beat his speed, she’d disrupt his flow with sheer force.

With a grunt, she slammed forward with her shield, throwing her weight fully into the swordsman—

But in one fluid, familiar motion, he threw his body into the air and flipped backwards.

Her shield struck at empty air— causing her to stumble forward with staggered steps. The swordsman landed on his feet with a flutter of robes, light and graceful with a rhythm unnervingly familiar. 

It was fluid, dance-like— and unmistakably gerudo.

Before Urbosa could think of what it could mean, the swordsman leapt at her again, slashing the air with his blade.

Again, she raised her shield— and managed to parry the attack in the same manner how she and her soldiers trained countless times— 

Yet, something was off.

Despite having timed it perfectly, her shield barely grazed his sword. Her arm swung too quickly, leaving her defenseless— an opportunity the swordsman did not miss.

With a quick flick of his wrist, his blade changed directions, aiming towards her with a downward strike.

Urbosa inhaled sharply— knowing she would not be able to dodge this unscathed. 

But a sudden burst of water shot past her shoulder, slamming into the blade.

Urbosa heard metallic chimes from Mipha’s lightscale trident rustling as the Zora rushed forward to assist. Her torrent of water shoved the swordsman back at a distance. 

“I'm sorry I'm late—” 

Urbosa caught herself, letting slip a breath of relief. The fight had been too close when Urbosa fought alone. Now with Mipha’s aid, she was sure they could overpower him.

Tightening her grip on her scimitar, she bellowed. “Everyone— drive him southward!”

There was a reason why each champion had been nominated the best warrior of their region— yet their talents were so distinct that they had begun to clash.

Revali, renowned for his deadly sharpshooting, was rendered useless in the flurry of close range combat. His arrowtip struggled to pin itself on the swordsman, who wove in and out between Urbosa’s aggressive short slashes.

Mipha had a further reach than her, summoning jets of water that could strike from afar. But as the currents licked against Urbosa's shoulders and shot toward the swordsman, Urbosa couldn’t help but notice that the force of the water had been tempered for her own sake.

For Urbosa, she had to withhold the range of her lightning bolts. Both the Rito and Zora were vulnerable to shock damage, and neither was equipped with the gerudo's protective jewelry that could absorb the charge.

Despite their struggle, they managed to drive the swordsman towards the southern river. With nothing but high cliffs on the other side, he would have nowhere to run, short of diving straight into the rapid water.

The swordsman stumbled to a halt. His shoes caught onto the slippery slope of the river bed— he only now realized that he had been cornered into a trap.

From the skies to the west, Revali tightened the draw of his bow, arrow gleaming and pointed with deadly precision.

Mipha’s trident blocked the eastward path towards the camp. The silver metal glared harshly against the sinking sunset glow. 

Urbosa lunged out from behind him, scimitar raised and crackling in green bolts of electricity.

Breathless, she growled. “Drop your sword. There's nowhere to run.”

The swordsman’s mouth thinned, eyes roving from one champion to another. He was trapped between the river, and all three of them.

A dark shadow crossed over his features. Urbosa knew that look. 

Up until now, the swordsman seemed intent on escaping. He had not used his most deadly weapon yet, but desperation often led to desperate measures.

His hand tightened on the hold of his blade; his eyes madly searching between them as he raised his sword.

Urbosa felt the cold rush of dread before she saw it.

“Watch out!”

She was a second too late— 

The entire sky plunged into an eerie red glow, as an enormous burst of gloom exploded after a swing of his blade.

Cold wind slashed Urbosa’s cheeks. The dark gloom spilled forward, and sliced through the narrow space between her and Mipha.

She tried to dodge, but a frigid burn laced along her ankle. Her entire leg became chillingly numb. 

Stumbling forward, Urbosa landed, her heels striking sharply into the wet river stones. She tried to move as the world swayed off-kilter, but she couldn’t—

Her breath was knocked out of her lungs as she slammed straight into a wall of cold, rushing water below.

“Urbosa!”

Revali’s wing had been struck.

He should’ve known about gloom's speed— after all, the princess warned everyone that it moved fast—

But he was too stunned when the tendrils tore through the air towards him, hungrily grabbing, ravenously seeking. 

Now his feathers had been drenched in the sickly red muck. It bit into his muscles like a deep frostbite. Sharp, stabbing agony jolting across his wing, straight to his chest— it hurt to even keep afloat.

“Urbosa!” 

Revali startled at Mipha’s scream— then at the loud splash of water from below.

Shit— were they all right?

Heart pounding, Revali made a sharp turn towards the other champions, hissing when his muscles disobeyed him. He nearly dove down face first.

Nausea and chills wracked his body, but he bore through it. Frantically scanning the ground, he forced his wings to keep him in the air.

The swordsman was standing by the river bank, frozen. Eyes wide and wild; gawking at Urbosa, who was thrashing desperately, trying to keep her head above the coursing river.

But the water crashed around her, fast and relentless. It swallowed her beneath its surface despite her attempts.

Having lived in the desert all their lives— a gerudo would not know how to swim.

Revali pulsed his wings. Prepared to dive for her, wondering if he could at least grab her arms by the talons to hoist her up, even if it meant he'd tear into her skin.

From the corner of his gaze, a red blur darted in the water, swimming after the gerudo champion.

It took him a while to realize it was Mipha— that she was rescuing Urbosa. That there would be no use for him there.

Revali drew his bow, aiming it at the swordsman. He sucked in a deep breath, and narrowed his eyes.

His muscles throbbed; the world spun without him.

Goddess, it hurt. 

Was this how the gloom-sick villagers felt?

In each temporary shelter, he came across so many pallid faces. Their skin ashen and lips sickly blue, eyes sunken and hollow. Near lifeless— all because of this bastard.

Rage simmered under his feathers, dampening the stabbing burn in his wings. 

Revali began firing at the flurry of dark robes—over and over— cursing at his shaky aim, praying that at least one of the arrows would hit its mark.

Through his blurry vision, Revali caught a glimpse of the swordsman’s panicked gaze—

“Agh—!”

A sharp yell cut through the air, and the swordsman doubled over on the ground with a thud.

An arrow had buried into his arm. 

There was no time to hesitate. Revali knew Urbosa had meant for them to capture him, to interrogate him— but when there was no champion left but him—

Revali needed to do it.

Drawing his bow, he aimed. Arrowtip pinned against the swordsman's neck.

But right then, his gloom-infested wing turned completely limp.

He faltered as harsh pain climbed up his side— and he plummeted, a rock slamming into the side of his face.

His taut bow went slack.

Get up, get up, Revali hissed as he stumbled onto his knee.

Ignoring the searing sting lancing through him, Revali nocked another arrow on his bow. 

The swordsman’s face paled when their eyes met.

Fear? Bewilderment? Revali didn't know. He couldn’t care less. He had no sympathy for a demon king's lackey.

Black dots crowded Revali’s vision. He blinked them away furiously, but they kept swarming, endlessly— 

Through the haze, he could make out the figure of the swordsman wobbling to his feet, turning around, and starting to— run—

You’re not getting away , Revali growled, but a pained grunt left his throat instead. 

Get up, get up —

I’m the only one left standing— 

I need to— I need to—...

The bow in his wing slipped from his grasp, and he plunged into darkness.

This was a bad idea.

Daruk hurriedly stomped across the grassy plains, fists crackling with the red protective light. It was wide enough to envelop him, and— the princess running alongside him.

Like all Hylians, the princess was small, and couldn’t run very fast. But she huffed and puffed, sprinting with urgency in her eyes all the same. 

Air whipped through Daruk’s hair as he glanced down again to match her pace— and then he looked back up, furtively checking their surroundings for any signs of danger.

The Gerudo Chieftain would kill him.  

After all, he was responsible for Zelda’s safety while the rest of the champions pursued the assailant. They shouldn’t be this close to the heat of battle, let alone running into the heart of it. 

But Daruk couldn’t refuse when she grabbed his sash; her big, round eyes creased in desperation—

“Please, Daruk! I need to heal Urbosa—! Please take me to her!”

Daruk was confident in his protective shield.

As long as he kept the princess near him, she should be safe. He wouldn’t let her get hurt— even if Urbosa would surely chew him out for allowing such a risk.

Grimacing, Daruk swallowed. He—would have to deal with the angry Gerudo, later.

Above them, the sky was starting to darken.

He looked ahead, spotting a soft blue glowing light by the river bed. Two familiar figures huddled next to each other, hunched and soaked in water.

“Oh, no!” Zelda rushed over—away from his side— and threw herself onto the grass. “Urbosa, are you all right—!”

Despite the gerudo champion’s slouched figure, she snapped up her head, eyes blazing. “Little bird?! What are you doing here?”

Those pointed eyes then jerked at Daruk—her gaze digging into him like the sharp tip of her scimitar. 

Urbosa may have been drenched from the tip of her hair to her heels, but she was not any less fierce.

Shrinking under her stormy gaze, Daruk rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He opened his mouth, feeling a stutter come up his throat. “I—uh, the princess—”

“My powers—” Mipha’s voice cut in, wavering in panic. Their gazes drew down to the zora’s hands, and the stream of healing water that wrapped around Urbosa’s swollen ankle. “It’s—it’s not working at all— I can’t heal this.”

A beat of tense silence passed through them. Urbosa gritted her teeth and growled. 

“Nevermind me,” the Gerudo hissed, yet her hand was gentle when she pushed Mipha away. 

“You need to go after him, now!” She narrowed her eyes at Daruk and then behind him. “He’s getting away!”

Daruk followed her gaze and whipped around. He startled at the sight of their Rito comrade collapsed against the grass, eyes clenched shut and wingtips still clutched around his bow—unmoving.

At a distance, the swordsman was sluggishly on the run, gripping his wounded arm.

With a grunt, Daruk planted his feet onto the grass— 

There was a small tug on his blue sash.

“I’ll go,” Mipha’s mouth thinned, as a dark shadow fell over her usually soft eyes. Her voice was low, barely a whisper. “Please keep everyone safe.”

Daruk, bewildered at the sudden frigid drop in her demeanor, froze mid-step.

Without a pause, Mipha swung her trident and launched herself mid-air, rushing after the swordsman.

Out of all the champions, Zelda felt the most kinship with Mipha. 

Being royalty herself, Mipha understood the heavy pressure on Zelda’s shoulders. How thousands of lives depended on their decisions and mistakes, and how exhausting that burden could be.

However, unlike Zelda, Mipha had grown into her position as a Zora princess with grace. She was well-respected and loved among the royal council— even in the face of dissent, she always remained calm, gentle, and steady.

At least, until now.

Zelda had never seen Mipha like this. Like a hunter keen after a prey, hurtling after the swordsman and rapidly closing the gap.

The swordsman couldn't run very far, nor fast. He spared a weakened glance over his shoulder before turning sharply into the forest.

Mipha’s battle cry tore through the air, fierce and startling. She drew her arm back— her gaze was steady as steel, as she poised herself for a strike.

To be a leader was to be ruthless— Zelda recalled her father’s words.

Mipha’s trident shot forward, while the swordsman crashed through the brush. 

Between the dense trees, there was a chance that the trident would miss. A chance that he would be able to get away— 

Zelda's breath caught in her throat.

Was she hoping that he'd get away?

That by fate, or by chance, the goddess would spare him, like how he— may have— spared her?

“It may have just been a whim, little bird. Just know that he won’t spare you next time.”

If it had been a whim, the tip of his black sword wouldn’t have stopped a mere inch from her neck. 

It was because he faltered. 

There was no such tremor in Mipha's trident. It sliced through the air with a sharp whip—her aim precise and lethal.

The swordsman threw himself to the side, in a futile attempt to dodge— 

But the sharp blades tore through his black robe, bursting past the skin on his side.

In a loud crash, the swordsman collided against a boulder. 

A pained howl pierced the fields.

Zelda jumped to her feet, fingers clenched tight at her side. A lump was lodged in her throat.

“Little bird, stay back!” She heard Urbosa’s shout— she didn’t realize that she had taken a step towards the battle.

But she couldn’t tear herself away. Her feet betrayed her, step by step.

Fresh blood stained his arm and torso. His robe was torn up and tattered.

The swordsman tried to pull himself up, but his arms gave out. Gasping weakly, he collapsed into a puddle of murky red underneath as Mipha approached.

Her jewelry chimed quietly as she stepped onto the red pool. She pointed the jagged tip of her trident at his neck, eyes cold and shadowed.

It dawned on Zelda then— Mipha was going to kill him.

With the ruthlessness necessary for a leader— she was going to kill him.

Zelda’s stomach twisted into a knot, as a treacherous thought rose to the surface. Her voice caught in her throat.

She didn’t want him to die.

Even though he was a servant of the demon king— even though he was dangerous and the source of destructive chasms—

Mipha lifted the trident above her head, poised to slash down —

Zelda broke into a run, arms outstretched towards Mipha’s silver weapon.

“No—!” Zelda cried in despair, dry air scraping against her throat.

Suddenly, a golden light exploded into a blinding white flash in front of her.

Zelda jerked her head away, arms flying up to shield herself.

Although blinding, the light felt so oddly familiar. For a split second, she thought it came from her.

Zelda slowly opened her eyes as the glow receded. 

She traced the fading light to its origin, watching it settle into the swordsman’s torn glove.

On the exposed back of his palm was a soft, warm glow— shining in the shape of the legendary triforce.

A screeching silence rang in the forest.

There were only three people in the world who possessed the mark of the ancient goddesses. 

Zelda herself.

Ganon, the demon king.

And—

Zelda’s heart hammered against her ribcage.

—the hero. 

The sharp chime of Mipha’s silver dangles broke Zelda from her thoughts.

Her voice split through the air.

“Please stop! Don’t kill him—!”

The sun dipped past the mountains, and a curtain of darkness cloaked the Blatchary Plains.

Covered in dirt, grass, and sweat, the champions trudged back to camp. The knights had been repairing their torn camp from the surprise monster assault, and shouted in relief at their return. 

Mipha had lent Urbosa her shoulder, assisting her as she limped with her gloom-festered ankle. Daruk had both Revali and the gloom swordsman hauled over each shoulder.

The princess walked ahead of them, pulling aside the tent’s cloth for the battered champions to enter.

Despite the pursuit ending with the successful capture of the swordsman, the injuries that they sustained made the atmosphere all the more somber.

Mipha supported Urbosa gently as she settled on a mat, while Zelda lit up an oil lamp and pulled open the crate of medical supplies.

As Daruk lowered Revali on top of a cot, the princess hurried over to his side. Mipha followed after her.

Of all the champions, the Rito’s wounds were the most serious. His feathers had been matted in coagulated red and black, and the torn skin on his side was exposed raw. Despite Mipha’s efforts to close the wound, her powers proved ineffective— much like her attempts with Urbosa’s ankle.

“I’ll begin purification,” Zelda announced, calling forth her sacred light in her hands.

Small golden tendrils streamed down from her palm and sank into the gloom matted between Revali’s feathers. All Mipha could do was wait for her turn. 

As the tent was bathed in the golden glow, Mipha let her gaze roam around.

Urbosa had her swollen ankle laid upon a pile of blankets. Her skin was littered with cuts from the sharp river rocks; her clothes and hair dripped with water. Despite that, she sat still with her eyes closed, breathing deeply to mitigate the pain.

On the other side of the tent, Daruk stood watch over the bloody figure of the swordsman. 

The Goron champion was by no means free of injury— gloom wrapped around his large fist and crept into the cracks of his rocky skin. But he grinned through his pain and volunteered to keep watch over the unconscious swordsman— bound tightly by Daruk’s chains that used to strap his boulder breaker.

The perpetrator, for the most part, laid deathly still, eyes clenched shut and breathing shallowly against the dirt ground.

It was hard for Mipha to believe that one Hylian youth was capable of causing so much damage.

She had witnessed how his chasms caused people to fall into an incurable illness, but now she was learning that the champions’ gloom-inflicted injuries could not be healed without the princess’ purification.

Mipha had understood the gravity of her role ever since her father nominated her as Zora's champion. But after today, the task of guarding the princess became all the more dire. If anything happened to Zelda and her sacred golden light, the entire kingdom would surely fall into the hands of the demon king. 

And yet, with an unexpected turn of fate, the chosen hero of the legends was the very same Hylian—

“He’s ready for you, Mipha,” Zelda’s tired voice drew her attention. The princess stepped away from Revali’s cot. She looked faint, with a thin sheen of cold sweat on her forehead. 

“Yes, princess,” Mipha replied as she stepped ahead. Conjuring up a stream of healing water, she let her hands gently hover along Revali’s injuries— now free of gloom.

Behind her, Mipha heard Zelda’s soft voice. “Urbosa, I—I’ll take a small break before I purify your injury.”

“Don’t strain yourself, little bird.”

Lowering her eyes in concentration, Mipha watched the stream weave through his feathers. A slow hiss rumbled from Revali’s chest, before she saw his eyelid twitch. 

“Ugh—” Revali croaked, head shifting.

“Please don’t move,” Mipha urged. “I’m healing you.” 

“—Princess Mipha?” Revali’s eyes fluttered open, and then squeezed shut again at the bright oil lamp light by his cot. “What— where—”

Revali suddenly snapped his eyes open, jerking up right— only to collapse back into the sheets with a pained groan. “Fucking hurts —”

“Yes, I’m still healing you,” Mipha sighed as the water stitched through his wounds. “Now, please stay still.”

“How long was I out? Is everyone all right?” Revali squirmed, trying to twist his head to look around the tent.

“We’re all doing fine,” Urbosa’s voice called out. “You should be worrying more about yourself.”

The tension between his brows eased as he looked past Mipha’s shoulders to where Urbosa and Zelda sat. 

Then, his gaze landed on the ground below Daruk, and his face darkened. 

“Good— you captured the bastard,” Revali clenched his beak. “Let’s wake him up for an interrogation. He should count himself lucky that he gets to live a moment longer before we kill him once and for all.”

Daruk’s heavy foot shifted as he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Well, about that—” 

“We won’t be killing him,” Zelda declared, her voice soft yet resolute. 

The air fell tense as Revali stilled.

“—Why not, princess?” 

The princess didn’t answer. Instead, she focused on her purifying light over Urbosa’s ankle. Mipha could see her lips thinning.   

“—So…” Daruk coughed. Revali’s sharp gaze snapped over to him. “Turns out he’s the chosen hero of the legends.”

Mipha could feel Revali’s stunned silence.

“Bullshit, that’s impossible!” His feathers rustled as he balked. “He was sent by the Demon King!”

“We know that, but— he has the mark of the goddess on his hand,” Urbosa snapped. “The rest of us saw it. If you don’t believe it, you can see for yourself.”

The Rito didn’t even deign to give the swordsman a glance. 

“Hero or not, we’re not letting him off the hook just like that,” Revali’s voice climbed an octave. “He’s too dangerous— we saw what he’s capable of. We have to kill him while he’s still weakened!”

“We aren’t killing him,” Zelda asserted again. This time, she lifted her eyes. Her voice held a note of cautiousness, but it was still unshakeable. “If we’re to even hope to defeat the Demon King, we need the hero on our side. We have to take him with us.”

Revali’s beak slackened. He stared at Zelda, appalled.

Zelda matched him with a steady gaze.

“You’re serious.” Revali’s voice rose harshly. “What the fuck—”

Frowning, Mipha gripped his uninjured wing— that’s too far. He snapped his beak shut with a grimace. 

“—Pardon my language, but I stand by what I said. He may have the hero’s mark, but he’s already on the Demon King’s side.”

“But the goddess chose him. There must be a reason why,” Zelda protested, desperation palpable in her eyes. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to agree with Revali on this one, little bird,” Urbosa sighed heavily, rubbing her temple. She must be exhausted, injuries and all— her voice had a sharp edge despite her attempt to sound patient. “If there’s an inkling of a chance that he is under the Demon King’s control, he’ll continue coming after you.”

“Urbosa…!” 

A heavy weight of silence fell over the tent.

“Well—” Daruk cleared his throat. “Killing the chosen hero won’t do us any favors.” 

He stiffened the moment everyone’s eyes suddenly swiveled towards him, but cleared his throat. “Us Gorons have similar legends. They all say that our fire sage ancestors have always aided both the Hylian princess and the chosen hero against the Demon King. And— well, I’ve never heard of a version where it’s only just the princess against the Demon King.”

“It won’t be the princess alone— she has the rest of us,” Revali sharply spat, not caring as he raised a wing and jostled his injuries, again. “We don’t need him. He’s better off dead—!” 

Amidst the arguing voices, Zelda lowered her gaze, chewing on her lip in thought.

Mipha had no doubt that the princess was well aware of how dangerous the swordsman was. She nearly died at his hands— twice.

But there was something else that Zelda feared, much more than the possibility of death.

“The chasms keep opening. And my power— it’s not enough to keep up.”  

As both royalty and the sole wielder of the sacred power, the princess carried the crushing weight of the world on her small shoulders. She felt that she alone would not be enough to stand against the Demon King.

The princess was cornered, caught between the champions pressing for killing the swordsman now, and sparing him. The consequences hung heavy in her mind— thousands of innocent lives would pay the price upon her choice.

“If we kill the hero, who will wield the sacred sword then?” Daruk rebutted, at which a silence befell the group.

“Instead—” Urbosa tapped her chin in thought. “We could imprison him in a dungeon until the time comes.”

“He’ll come to resent us,” Zelda argued. “We can’t guarantee that he’d be willing to help—”

“So, we’re just going to hand over the legendary holy sword to Ganon’s henchman and let him roam free? Who is to say he won’t stab you with it?” Revali shot back.

Urbosa speared Revali with a dark glare as the Rito turned away with a huff.

Zelda exhaled in frustration.

“Little bird, please understand that we’d rather be rid of him than risk your safety,” Urbosa said with a sigh. Her voice sounded softer this time.

“But—” Zelda’s voice petered into a heavy silence.

Tension hung in the air like a guillotine blade. Thick, and suffocating.

“If I may interrupt,” Mipha started. “ —I’m with Princess Zelda. I believe it would be best to take him with us.”

“ Princess Mipha?” Revali’s betrayed gaze snapped to her direction, but Mipha did not falter. 

Urbosa opened her mouth to object but Mipha gave her a gentle look. 

“I understand that imprisoning him may seem like a safer option, but we can’t forget how it took all four of us to subdue him. Should he break out, the guards will be quickly overpowered. There won’t be anyone to stop him from wreaking havoc upon the surrounding villages.”

The Gerudo chief lowered her eyes, eyebrows knitting at the thought. She had been too consumed with her instinct to protect Zelda that she had overlooked the possibility of others being harmed.  

“As champions, it is our duty to protect both the princess and the kingdom. And— I believe we’re more than capable of subduing him, as we did today.”

“It’d be easier to just be rid of him,” Revali growled.

Mipha sighed, “Like the Gorons, us Zora also have extensive records of the princess and the hero who wields the holy sword. The mark is clear on his hand— the goddess has chosen him, even if we don’t fully understand why. If we hastily kill him against Hylia’s will, we may as well damn ourselves to the Demon King. Do you believe Hylia will favor those who kill her chosen hero?”

“Mipha’s right.” With a defeated sigh, Urbosa let her shoulders droop. “For now, all we can do is keep a close eye on him and make sure he doesn’t cause any more harm.”

Revali’s feathers rustled before he exhaled angrily.

“Fine,” Revali ground out, but conceded nonetheless. “But the moment he even nears a blade, I’ll strike an arrow straight into his arm.”

“Of course, we’ll seize his belongings—  especially all his weapons.” Urbosa said. “I’ll adjust our schedule to keep a rigorous watch over him. It may become busier for all of us.”

Mipha gave her a solemn nod, and Revali huffed again. 

“Not a problem at all,” Daruk said, glancing down at the bound swordsman.

Zelda breathed a long sigh of relief, pressing a hand to her chest. She seemed visibly relieved. 

The heightened tension in the air passed over, and the tent fell into a contemplative lull.

Restless crickets chirped outside, and Mipha heard Zelda’s quiet murmurings, asking Urbosa of her ankle injury as she resumed purification. 

The warm glow of the oil lamp flickered along the cool breeze that streamed through the open tent tarp.  

“I’ve finished closing your wounds,” Mipha said with a soft exhale, picking up a roll of bandages from the crate of medical supplies. She began wrapping the bandage over his newly-healed wing with practiced ease. “You must rest to allow your body to fully recover—”

“Goddess knows why she chose such a bastard,” Revali grumbled under his breath. “If I can’t kill him, I’ll at least shoot an arrow or two the moment he wakes—”

“—And there will be no shooting allowed for the next two days, do you understand?” 

Revali opened his beak as if to argue— but snapped it shut at her prim smile.

“I understand,” he said with a long, resigned exhale. “Thank you, Princess Mipha.”

“It is my pleasure.”

By the time Zelda and Mipha had finished patching up everyone, the night had fallen deep over the camp, with the occasional bustle from the knights outside. 

During the assault, their dinner earlier had been overturned into a mess upon the ground. And everyone, fatigued and hungry, made do with their provisions of wheat bread and Hateno cheese.

After some rest, Zelda decided to address the swordsman lying still in the corner of the tent. She felt relieved that they decided to spare him— at least to ensure that he would still be alive to carry out the goddess-given duty.

But under the lamp light, she could see the full extent of his wounds.

His eyes remained firmly shut as bright red steadily trickled down from his temple. The tearing across his arm and torso was more gruesome than any of the champions’ injuries— caked in mud, gurgling blood, and mangled flesh.

The Zora princess kneeled over the crumpled body, her healing water flowing over his open skin— but minutes passed and the wound had yet to close.

“I— I can’t seem to heal him,” Mipha admitted. “It feels eerily similar to the others’ injuries.”

“But— isn’t he the gloom swordsman?”

“To think that he can control it but it also harms him…” Mipha muttered before she lifted her gaze. “Princess, I believe you must use your power on him first, before I can treat him.”

“Yes, of course—” Zelda nodded, glancing down at the swordsman with knitted brows.

Opening her palm, she summoned her golden light over his pale skin. Immediately, streams of poisonous tendrils diffused under her power.

She inhaled in concentration as her breathing grew labored. Endless gloom fled from the swordsman’s body, alarmingly faster than her power could purify it.

She realized with a start that the damage ran so deep that she couldn’t keep up.

Closing her fist tiredly, Zelda let out a shuddering breath. “There’s too much— I don’t think he can be purified all at once. For now, we’ll have to treat his injury with herbs instead.”

Mipha hummed in thought. “I understand.” She stood up to collect various herbs from the crate of medical supplies.

Zelda worried her lips as she cast another glance at the swordsman.

Undoubtedly, he was a dangerous warrior, capable of matching all four champions at once. Yet now, he seemed frail and weakened. His small frame lay prone in a puddle of his own blood, dwarfed by Daruk’s enormous chains around his thin wrists.

“Princess!” The tent flap suddenly rustled, as Daruk’s hand reached up and pushed the cloth aside. “You might want to take a look at this.”

Zelda glanced behind her and then at Mipha, who had already begun to crush the herbs in the mortar and pestle.

“I’ll keep a watch over him,” the Zora assured her.

“Yes, what is it?” Zelda stood up, and followed the Goron outside into the crisp night air. 

Their camp was now bathed in a stream of silver moonlight. The dark sky was relatively clear, with a few thin clusters of clouds hanging overhead.

The knights ducked their heads into a hasty bow as Zelda walked past. Daruk led her to the side of the camp, across the flickering campfire.

“I brought her,” Daruk announced to Urbosa and Revali, who had been huddled around a small pile of weapons and supplies. They were standing at an arm’s distance, surrounding what seemed like a normal sword. 

“Come take a look at this,” Revali prompted as Zelda approached. He extended his wing and prodded the swordsman’s dark blade with an arrow.

As the pointed tip barely grazed the blade, a dark cloud of gloom burst forth. It hungrily grabbed for Revali’s wingtips—but he drew back just in time with a huff.

Zelda’s hands flew to her open mouth. “What in the world—” 

“The blade is filled with gloom,” Urbosa explained. “From what we could surmise, this may be how the swordsman creates the chasms.”

Zelda swallowed heavily. “Yet, he himself is plagued with gloom.”

“What— his own weapon hurts him? Unbelievable,” Revali scoffed, but Zelda’s stomach churned uncomfortably at the revelation.

“It seems he is just a regular Hylian, after all,” Daruk murmured. 

“So, what do we do with this thing?” Revali asked as he prodded the blade again— as much as he looked disturbed, he seemed to find it enthralling. “I’m sure the moment the bastard wakes up, he’ll make a grab for it.” 

Urbosa crossed her arms thoughtfully. “We can’t have anyone else accidentally touch it and get hurt either.”

“We’ll hand it over to Purah,” Zelda suggested. “Perhaps it’ll prove useful to her research.”

Urbosa nodded. “Mm, then I’ll contact the sheikah to come and retrieve the sword.”

“Let’s see what else he’s been carrying.” Revali had begun picking through the swordsman’s rucksack. 

Using his arrow as a tool, he poked at a bundle of bomb arrows with a frown. “These are all Rito-made, worth a bunch of rupees. He probably attacked my village to steal all these— that damned thief.”

“Doesn’t look like it’s gloom infested,” Daruk said as he peered over Revali’s shoulder. “You should take them back.”

“Fair enough.” Revali swiped up the arrows with a sneer.

Zelda joined them, peering curiously at the rucksack’s spilled contents. Her eyes stopped at something glowing softly under a folded paraglider.

She brushed it aside, revealing a large bundle of glowing petals underneath. “These are— silent princess flowers? Why in the world was he carrying so many of them?”

“They’re an endangered bunch, aren’t they?” Daruk asked.

“Endangered or not, what kind of lunatic chomps on them like this?” Revali plucked a wilting flower between his feathertips, and handed it to Zelda.

Zelda held up the stem closer— sure enough, there were obvious teeth marks along the edges of the crushed petals. 

“Some wild flowers grant special augmentative effects if ingested under the right conditions.” Zelda mused out loud. “But these are so rare, no one has been able to document their properties yet.”

She stared down at the half-eaten petal in contemplation, watching its bioluminescent glow reflected in the moon light.

Behind her, the champions’ voices petered into a soft rumble as they continued inspecting the rest of the swordsman’s belongings— a half-eaten baked apple, nearly empty bottles of cooking spices, and the paraglider Zelda saw.

Aside from the gloom-infested sword, the rest of his arrows and bows were safe to use. Urbosa decided to store them away and distribute them to the knights tomorrow as extra supplies. 

Zelda knelt and carefully gathered the wilting bundle of silent princesses. 

The discovery of the gloom-filled sword ate at her thoughts.

Why did the swordsman wield a blade that hurt him so?

She couldn’t imagine why he chose it. It crippled him, ensuring that he would never be able to fight at his full strength. Unless—

Maybe he was being forced to, by the Demon King? 

She still had no idea how a Hylian boy like him ended up as Ganon’s henchman in the first place— did he even know that he was the goddess-chosen hero?

Pursing her lips, Zelda lifted her eyes up at the sky. The night clouds slowly drifted, casting long, faint shadows across the field.

She had so many questions that she wanted to ask— but she must remember that he was still dangerous, still unconscious. 

Zelda had already purified as much gloom as she could, and Mipha had wrapped him with swathes of bandages.

All she could do was to pass the long night and wait for him to awaken.