Chapter Text
The cold winds of Hebra seemed to pick up whenever Link took a step forward. His clothes were soaked, the thin fabric doing nothing to protect against the harsh weather. Of course the Queen couldn’t give him anything warmer, she had to save those resources for the soldiers - those who actually needed it. She had always been like that: unreasonable. Surely the soldiers who were patrolling around the temperate forests around Hyrule Castle didn’t need full on jackets. Surely she could have spared one for her Alchemist who was going into the Hebra Mountains to fight a Lynel to get ingredients for her potions for her soldiers. Yes, it was winter, but the field never dropped too low below freezing. Up in the Hebra Mountains, Link was surprised he was still alive.
He shook his head and rubbed his arms, hoping and praying that some form of warmth would arrive soon. His teeth were chattering so hard that he was surprised that they weren’t broken. He was shaking so much that he was surprised that he could still walk.
All of this to go and fight a Lynel.
Link wasn’t even too sure if he was still on the right path - the blizzard having picked up a while ago, forcing Link to slow his steps should he not want to accidentally fall down a cliff. Because of the almost white-out conditions, Link wasn’t too sure if he had started going in circles or not. He had no map to speak of, and even if he did, it would have been completely ruined by the snow, frost, ice, and the wind.
The fucking wind.
Link used to love the wind when he was a child. He loved climbing up trees in the summer and feeling the wind swirl around him when he got to the top. Now, that didn’t happen very often as the Queen rarely let anyone out of Castle Town unless they had a reason, but Link sometimes managed to sneak out at night to feel the wind and watch the stars.
That love of the wind had dwindled very quickly as he got older. Now, the wind was nothing more than a nuisance: something that made his arrows go off course, something that tried to blow him off the side of a cliff he was climbing, and something that made the cold of the mountains even fucking worse! There was little use complaining though, there was nothing that he could do to make his situation any better.
Only worse.
Link felt the arrow before he registered anything else. A sharp pain embedding into his shoulder that caused him to fall backwards, landing in the snow, slightly dazed and wondering what was going on. He managed to sit up and inspect his shoulder- a regular arrow. Strange. What in the name of Hylia would use arrows in a white-out blizzard on the top of a mountain range. What would have been able to even see him well enough to hit him with an arrow? How had the wind not made this arrow go off course? Was it shot that way? What in the world had such amazing shooting skills.
Lynels.
Fuck.
Link managed to roll out of the way of another incoming arrow, accidentally giving himself a face-full of snow in the process. Where was it? Link had to locate it quickly before the Lynel got even better at shooting or decided to launch a surprise attack…
Another arrow, coming from his left. Link dodged again and grabbed out his sword, running blind as quickly as he could across to where he hoped the Lynel still was. He heard a grunt to his right and swung at it, his sword hitting home on something. Link turned and saw the form of a Lynel: big, tall, towering over Link with an expression that was not normal for a Lynel. There was more murderous intent than usual, more malice and hate in its eyes.
Link’s eyes widened as he took in the form of the giant beast before him, his sword stuck in the leg of the Lynel. This was not an ordinary Lynel, this was not any kind of Lynel that Link had ever seen before. What was wrong with it? Why was it just standing there, staring at him? Link pulled hard on his sword, trying to dislodge it from the leg of the Lynel. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong! His sword wasn’t coming out, it almost seemed stuck. Stealing a glance down to the leg from where Link maintained eye-contact, he saw that the Lynel’s skin had grown around the sword, trapping it inside the leg. The purple blood that would usually be staining the snow was slowly making its way up the length of the sword, bubbling and burning. A metallic scent filled the air as Link saw the blood eat away at the metal of the sword, breaking it a couple centimetres away from where the sword was embedded, leaving Link with a much shorter, jagged edged sword that did not look helpful in this situation.
There was something wrong with this Lynel, and Link did not want to stick around to find out. Yes, he needed Lynel horns for the potions that he was tasked with making. Yes, this was one of the only places that Link was allowed that housed a Lynel, and yes, Link would probably be executed or banished should the Queen find out that he ran from this fight, but the survival instincts that Link had managed to obtain over his years of living in Castle Town, avoiding guards and the ever-seeing eye of the Queen, told him to run.
Link took one last look up at the face of the Lynel before backing away slowing, his sword held out in front of him in a defensive measure. He knew better than to turn his back on an enemy, even if it meant he would be able to escape faster or actually know where he was going. This time, it didn’t matter. Link could barely see around him and he needed to know if/when the Lynel was going to strike again.
The Lynel just stood there, staring at him, unmoving as if a statue. Link continued to back up slowly, putting one foot behind the other and slowly making distance. The Lynel was almost out of Link’s seeing range when something strange happened.
The Lynel smiled a wicked smile.
What. The. Fuck.
The Lynel then slowly, as if not to scare Link, took the spear from off it’s back and held it at its side. Link stopped moving at this point. The adrenaline that had been fading spiked back up again, warning him of danger. The only sounds heard were the howling wind as the two figures stood stock still and looked at each other.
It was almost an art piece; a strange recreation of David and Goliath, a story told to young Hylian soldiers to keep up their courage and have them believe that they could fight and win against anyone and everything. Link loved listening in on the storytimes when he was younger, but he didn’t believe any of the mumbo-jumbo being fed to the minds of his peers. His Alchemist-Master told him everything he needed to know, even that it was okay to run from fights if they were too much. Link took that advice to heart, turned, and started running.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to beat the Lynel, he didn’t even know if he could injure it enough for it to stop attacking him. He was scared, even though he didn’t want to admit it. Link heard the Lynel let out an ear-piercing roar before galloping towards him.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!
Link tried to run faster but the deep snow wasn’t helping any. It came up to his knees and trudging through the snow at a slow pace was difficult enough, let alone running for his life. The Lynel caught up easily, swinging his spear in a way that would have cleaved Link’s head off his shoulders had he not ducked. It stormed past Link, it’s thundering hooves almost as loud as the roar it had let off earlier. It’s movement was in no way impeded by the snow, easily and gracefully moving through it like an arrow without any resistance.
Link got up quickly and ran towards where the Lynel was, hoping to pull off something similar to what just happened, or maybe just sprint past it while it was attacking. The beast gave another ear-splitting roar and ran at Link as well, closing the distance a lot faster than Link could ever hope to manage. Link was expecting another cleaving swing that he could dodge under, he expected another swing that would kill him if he didn’t move fast enough. Link had not expected the Lynel to anticipate what he was going to do. Usually it took two or three times of Link using one strategy before he would have to move to a different one.
This Lynel learnt fast.
Link waited until the Lynel swing at him before ducking down and rolling away. It seemed to have anticipated the movement because before Link could stand back up and keep running, a sharp pain stabbed him on the left part of his lower back. He let out a yelp from surprise, the pain not taking full effect because of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, probably keeping him alive at this rate. Link glanced over his shoulder and saw the Lynel, the same terrifying smirk on its face as it leaned down on the spear. More pain flourished from the small of Link’s back where the spear had impaled him. He tried to crawl away but the spear embedded in his gut kept him in place. The Lynel gave one final press on the spear, sticking Link’s impaled body into the frozen ground and ice below the snow.
Link tried to get up but failed, the spear was all the way through his torso and stuck into the ground. The red of his blood was quickly staining the snow and Link was beginning to feel dizzy.
The Lynel, the ever kind fellow, decided that it shouldn’t leave Link stuck to the ground and grabbed onto the spear with both hands. It then pulled up with such force, pulling the spear cleanly out of Link, making his already bad wound more and more fatal by the second. Link could almost swear that the entirety of the Hebra Mountain Range could hear his screams over the howling wind of the blizzard.
He was bleeding faster now, his winter tunic slowly getting more and more wet with blood, the snow getting more and more saturated. Link knew that if he stayed here, he would die. If he got out of range of the Lynel, then maybe, maybe he would have a chance at survival. It was a slim chance with the way his injury was, but it was a chance that Link was willing to take.
He got up as quick as he could, ignoring the way that his vision clouded with black spots for a second, ignoring the way the ground seemed to be tilting this way and that, and started walking away as quickly as he could. His hands were at his wound, putting pressure on it the best he could. The arrow was still in his shoulder making it a bit difficult to move his right arm, but he would deal with that later, if he survived. He left a blood trail behind him as well as footprints that were close together and went all over the place as Link stumbled and tried to keep his balance. The Lynel walked behind Link, taking pleasure in the way that Link was stumbling around, close to death, but not too close. He would last a few more minutes.
With a final ear-piercing roar, the Lynel galloped in front of Link and grabbed him by the neck, hoisting him up so that they saw eye-to-eye.
“Kill.. the.. Hylian,” the Lynel growled, its voice not used to making words, only growls and guttural sounds. “Let.. the.. Malice.. consume!”
Link was choking, the hand around his throat tightening with every word until he couldn’t breathe. His vision was clouding faster than before as he tried, in vain, to breathe through the grip on his throat. The grip suddenly let go and Link dropped to the ground, one hand putting pressure on his even more aggravated wound, and the other one lightly touching his own neck as he gasped and wheezed in the cold air of the mountains. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to be awake, everything hurt.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sharp pain that irradiated from his torso, just by his lungs, and suddenly he was flying through the air. Link didn’t know what to do as he spun through the air. He had no wings, he couldn’t fly! He also didn’t have anything that would break his fall or slow his decent. Link did what he thought best in this situation: curl up into a tiny ball, legs protecting his torso, his arms protecting his head, and pray.
A few more seconds of flying through the air later, and Link didn’t get the hard landing that he thought that he would have gotten- slamming into the side of a mountain or splatting onto the ice covered ground, or getting impaled by a tree, or landing in the range of a different Lynel. All of those had been real possibilities, all of those probably had a higher probability than what had happened to Link.
He landed in a snowbank.
Granted, there was still a jarring force from stopping after flying through the air, but he managed to land somewhat softly in a snowbank, rolling a bit along it before coming to a stop. Had Hylia heard his prayers? Was he just that lucky? Was this even lucky? Now that Link was no longer around the strange Lynel (what was even up with that thing? It spoke! To him… about Malice? Who was Malice?), Link now had to deal with his injuries.
That was the big ‘if’ factor in him getting off the Hebra Mountains or not… the injuries. The arrow wasn’t that bad, Link just had to either push it through or pull it out of his shoulder (depending on how deep it was) and then cauterize the wound with a red-hot sword or dagger. The wound in his stomach was going to be a different story altogether. The black spots that had been slowly invading his vision completely took it over when Link tried to push himself to sit up and inspect his injuries. Ringing took over his ears as well, blocking out the roaring wind and Link’s harsh breathing. It hadn’t pierced a lung, but it had still scrambled Link’s insides like they were eggs.
How the fuck was he going to fix this? Was he even able to fix this? Maybe dying in the mountains will be more merciful than dying in front of the Queen, Link thought. At least now I’ll be able to keep my dignity and not be offered up to the Dungeon Master.
Sidon loved the cold. He loved it when winter fell on Zora’s Domain, when snow covered the landscape, when the top layer of the water turned to ice. He loved how quiet everything became- how he could just step outside while the Domain slept and not hear anything except his own footsteps and breaths if he allowed.
The Hebra Mountains, however, were a little much, even for him.
Sure, everything was covered in snow and ice, sure there were no sounds except for footsteps and breathing, but the wind messed everything up by making it just a bit too cold (read: really cold). Sidon and his party continued to move through the Hebra mountains despite the blizzard telling them to stop and make camp. The party of four had been coming back from a meeting with the Rito at their perch, exchanging information and reaffirming their alliances.
The information shared mostly revolved around how more and more monsters seemed to be being infected with Malice, how the Hylian reach was getting further and further away from the borders that had been established multiple generations ago, and how everyone needed to bulk up their military because soon they could be facing a war. No one wanted to go to war, no one wanted to face whatever was creating the Malice. No one wanted to kill anyone. Everyone was fine with the fact that they may have to kill Hylians as no one had been in contact with them for a couple centuries, the Royal family closing off the borders and trade long before that. No longer was anyone familiar with the way Hylians looked, sounded, or acted- the only affirmation that they were not all dead were the sightings of roaming soldiers in Hyrule Field once or twice a year.
Yes, no one had any trouble sleeping over the fact that Hylian blood would be spilled if a war was started, what no one wanted to find out was how easily Malice spread and if they would have to kill friends, family, loved ones if they became infected.
Sidon himself had never seen a Hylian before, but he was told that they were a lot like the Sheikah, only shorter and with darker hair. Sidon had once seen a photo of a Hylian (though he didn’t count this as seeing an actual Hylian) that Laflat had once taken. It was a picture of a singular Hylian (which was strange because they mostly travelled in pairs or small groups) climbing a tree to grab what looked like an apple.
Laflat had explained that once the Hylian saw that she was there, they took off running in the opposite direction, scared. Sidon had formed his opinion of Hylains right then and there: they were adorable.
They reminded him of ducklings.
“Sidon!” Bazz’s voice sounded in front of him. Everyone drew their weapons as an instinct, no one wanted to be caught off guard. “Listen,”
Sidon strained his ears to hear anything over the howling winds of Hebra, but he thought he heard something though he wasn’t too sure what it was. It was high-pitched and reminded him of the playful shouts that the Zora children made when playing, but this one sounded more pained.
“Do you know what it is?” Sidon asked. Bazz shook his head and looked towards Dunma and Gaddison to see if they knew. He got two headshakes as a reply. No one knew what made that sound.
“Maybe a Lynel infected by Malice?” Gaddison offered.
“But we know what a Lynel sounds like,” Dunma pointed out gently, “We hear it all the time on Ploymus.”
“Wouldn’t it be deeper if it were a Lynel?” Bazz asked, turning around and making a circle. It wasn’t a good move on a defensive point of view, but it made it easier to discuss and brainstorm what they had just heard.
“Doesn’t Malice make voices higher though?” Gaddision questioned.
“No,” Dunma said, again gently. “Remember all the Bokoblins and Moblins that were infected? If anything, their voices got deeper.”
“I wasn’t there on that mission.” Gaddision replied, “ I was defending the bridge.”
“That’s okay. We’ll just have to show you next time we see one.” Dunma said with an inviting smile.
“I think that it would be a good idea to have more people on that patrol,” Sidon interjected, turning into the circle from where he was looking, trying to find out just where that sound came from so that they could inspect it. “They’re quite difficult to kill.”
“If you don’t hit them with some kind of Elemental weapon, their ability to heal will make them heal around your weapon.” Bazz instructed.
“I mean, generally, the weaker the monsters are around them, the weaker they themselves are,” Dunma explained further, “I mean, an infected Bokoblin won’t nearly be able to heal as fast as a Lynel.”
Something landed in the snow near them. It rolled for a little bit before coming to a stop, barely moving. Red stained its path and made the four Zora stare in curiosity.
Sidon, his weapon still drawn, instructed the others to stay back a couple of steps and act as back-up as he went to investigate. Everyone agreed to this plan, readying their weapons as Sidon slowly crept forward. The thing was badly injured, bleeding profusely from a wound in its lower torso. It tried to move, to sit up, but a pained yelp escaped from it before it fell into the snow again and stopped moving.
The Zora party crept forward, keeping a careful eye on the thing- they couldn’t tell what it was because of the clothing it had on, some kind of tunic with a hood which obstructed its face. It was almost completely covered in snow as well. Sidon felt a wave of pity for the creature the closer he got. He slowly knelt down next to the lump of creature and put his hand on its shoulder, slowly flipping it over onto its back in order to see just what it was.
“A Hylian!” Dunma gasped when the creature settled onto its back. It was a Hylian- darker hair than the Sheikah (this one’s looking the colour of straw), and (when pulled out of the snow) definitely shorter than the average Sheikah. A Hylian! The first one that Sidon had seen in his entire life! But the Royal family (presumably) kept them under tight lock and key, so why was this one in the Hebra Mountains?
“Do we save it?” Bazz looked like he wanted to poke the Hylian with his spear.
“Yes! You buffoon!” Dunma exclaimed. “They could tell us the best way to defeat them in combat should it come to war! Or the best way to sneak into their towns! Or a more effective way to defeat the Malice!”
Sidon nodded, “Dunma’s right. They could have a lot of information for us.”
“We just have to stop them from bleeding out!” Gaddison basically shouted, running forward and putting pressure on the Hylian’s wound. “We won’t be able to get any information out of them should they die!” To prove his point, he lifted the tunic of the Hylian just enough so that the wound was on full display: dark blood, almost black, was seeping out of the wound at a steady pace. Sidon could almost swear that he could see through the wound as well.
That image spurred Sidon into action. Sure, they could get a lot of information out of the Hylian, but they were also very cute (again, like a duckling) and Sidon wanted to have a conversation with the Hylian- compare lives. He could show them around Zora’s Domain, he could learn how to fight like a Hylian, he could have a friend.
“Mipha, don’t fail me now.” Sidon muttered as he put one hand over the other and placed both above the wound. He wasn’t as powerful as his sister when it came to healing others (or himself for that matter), but as a member of the Zora Royal Family, he possessed some capability for healing. It was never perfect, unlike Mipha’s, but it worked for battlefield wounds, closing them up and making them not fatal anymore.
The three other Zora stood around the Hylian and watched Sidon work, not really having anything to do until most of the bleeding stopped. Dunma had bandages ready and Bazz and Gaddison were keeping watch for whatever could have caused the Hylian this much damage. If Sidon wasn’t concentrating so hard on healing the Hylian, he would have wondered where they came from because the blood trail that they left just suddenly appeared a couple metres away.
Slowly but surely, the wound began to close, the blood began to flow slower, and the Hylian started to breathe easier. When Sidon pulled away (as per the request of everyone around him, saying that he shouldn’t over exert himself because they still had more travelling to go before they thought themselves safe), the wound was still there, it was still bleeding, but it could heal on its own now and the Hylian was no longer in the state of going-to-die-soon, so Sidon agreed. Dunma quickly knelt down and, with the help of Sidon picking the Hylian up, wrapped the bandages around their torso.
There was still an arrow in their shoulder, but Bazz (being the one least concerned about hurting the Hylian) quickly pulled it out and threw it off to the side, allowing Dunma to cover that wound in bandages as well.
“Their ribs are broken.” she said to no one in particular. She quickly lifted up the rest of the tunic and wrapped more bandages around the chest of the Hylian, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Dunma was an amazing Medic, the head of the Medic Team back at Zora’s Domain and loved trading tips, tricks, and information with the Rito Medic’s because “They are the most advanced Medics besides us. We need to make sure that our techniques are kept up to date!”
Sidon watched in awe (even though he was supposed to be following Gaddison and Bazz away towards the designated camp for travellers) at how carefully Dunma handled the Hylian. He knew that it wasn’t because they were injured- he had seen Dunma handle Zora, Rito, and Gerudo alike with more force when they had much more grave injuries than the Hylian. Was it because they were a Hylian and not much was known about Hylians? Sidon shook his head slightly and turned around to follow Bazz and Gaddison; he could think about this when everyone was out of danger. He could ask these questions when everyone was back at Zora’s Domain.
He could use his energy to think about these things when everyone was safe.
Camp was put up at the camping spot: a cabin of sorts, only stocked with an axe, a fireplace, some wood, and something to light the entire contraption with. There wouldn’t be any volunteers for restocking cabins that might go unused for months at a time with food, water, and medical supplies. It was pointless.
Bazz managed to get the fire started while Gaddison kept watch outside and Sidon and Dunma set up the sleeping bags. They usually slept in water pods, but with the cold of the Hebra mountains and no feasible way of transporting that amount of water safely without being bogged down or it all freezing (and subsequently taking forever to unthaw so that they could sleep), any Zora traveller slept in sleeping bags, the design of which was shared with them by the Rito.
Sidon offered his up to the Hylian when he noticed them shaking and shivering. Everyone agreed (even though Dunma seemed a little hesitant to) as all of them had been travelling all day and didn’t really want to give up that extra piece of comfort. Everyone then ate a small dinner and headed to sleep, Gaddison staying up for first watch because he wasn’t even that tired, I swear! Sidon didn’t believe him, but all the walking, the cold, and the healing for the Hylian had really taken his energy out of him, so he didn’t argue. He did say, however, that he would take second watch.
“He’s only a Hylian!” Gaddison whispered harshly.
“Yeah. Keyword: Hylian! They haven’t been seen around for centuries! When they have, they’re on military patrols!” Bazz spat back.
“This one was alone though, didn’t even have a sword on them.”
“That would make it more dangerous, wouldn’t you think? If a warrior is alone, that means that they are trained and well.”
“They look about as strong as a frog. I think that one of us, let alone four could easily take them down if need be.”
“Would you stop humanizing that thing? They are where the Malice is coming from!”
“You don’t know that!”
“My theory hasn’t been proven wrong yet. Hylians are dangerous, and Sidon was a fool for healing it. Mark my words, that thing is going to be our downfall!”