#ArtisticGamer

[naptechgames]

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[star-mania]

Game Controller by Star-Mania

Started playing more video games in my downtime. This is something I made to get me back into the digital art scene.

Posted using PostyBirb

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Anybody want more Good Ganondorf content?

(@silvercaptain24 more of that plot bunny you had :) also @luckybyrdrobyn @artisticgamer @wildsage00 I remembered to tag y'all this time lol)

Link wasn't entirely sure how long he had been stuck in this bedroom after the Gerudo women had left, but he knew it had been too blasted long. By his third attempt to get out of bed, he had at least finally managed to sit up without immediately wanting to pass out. If he could just manage to get up, it would be a start.

The room was small, and the only supplies were medicinal, with the exception of some food and water. No weapons in sight, naturally, but he wouldn't expect any from...

Well. He couldn't exactly call this place a cell, but he was a prisoner nonetheless.

Why had they captured him? Why hadn't they just killed him? Did they need him to use the Triforce? They'd already seized the Triforce of Courage from him in the last battle (and goddesses he tried so very hard to not think about the last battle, about their catastrophic failure, about the bodies littering the field, the queen's desperation and anger and panic and--). He couldn't imagine why they possibly needed him. Cia had been obsessed with him but had still tried to kill him; Ganondorf didn't even care about his existence, so why was he still alive?

He wasn't finding out. He was getting out of here.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the door swung open, making the captain jump. He tried to stand and face whoever was entering, but all he succeeded in doing was nearly face planting on the floor until strong, steady hands caught him.

"Nabooru figured you might try to get up," a deep voice rumbled.

Link's blood ran cold. He knew that voice. He'd heard it on the battlefield. He'd heard it when the Triforce of Courage was ripped out of him.

Ganondorf.

The captain tried to struggle against the monster's grip, but he was still too frustratingly weak. Before he knew it he was scooped up into massive arms, and a mild panic squeezed his chest so tightly he couldn't breathe. He couldn't stand to be so close to the man, so completely and utterly helpless and vulnerable in the arms of someone who could crush him in a heartbeat.

When he was gently lowered into the bed, he stared at Ganondorf in a mixture of bewilderment and wariness. "What do you want from me?"

Ganondorf raised an eyebrow at the question. "Currently, I want you to stop trying to get out of bed. You're going to worsen your condition."

Link narrowed his eyes. "And then?"

"And then?" Ganondorf repeated. "And then you'll get sicker, foolish child."

"What difference does it make to you?"

Ganondorf sighed. "Despite whatever idea of me you might have, I'm not interested in you getting yourself killed."

Link inhaled sharply to throw out a retort and found he had none, his mind too weary for whatever biting remark it usually would conjure. Then images of the battle came to mind, and he suddenly found he had far more words than he could say all at once. He settled for, "Killing people hasn't seemed to bother you that much."

Ganondorf watched him a moment, his expression unreadable. It made Link squirm. Finally, the man looked away. "I understand your impression of me is based on the war. That's... understandable. You'll be surprised to know my intentions with the Triforce are not to destroy Hyrule, and I don't kill outside the battlefield. I prefer not to kill at all if I don't have to... but war is war."

The words tore through Link's uneasiness, setting his heart and mind on fire. He jerked upright in the bed, ignoring the dizzy spell that accompanied it. "War is war?! That's your excuse for causing Hyrule to be torn apart at the seams?! Is that what you said before they sealed you away as well?!"

"And what words does your queen use?" Ganondorf fired back, his voice lowering dangerously.

"Queen Zelda is trying to protect Hyrule!" Link argued, his vision blurring as he turned to face his enemy more fully. "This entire war started because of you!"

"I had my soul split into pieces and was sealed away," Ganondorf said, his voice growing quiet, and the air in the room grew impossibly heavy. "Would you not do anything to escape such a torturous fate? I used what abilities I had to manipulate someone powerful enough to do the deed. The destruction she wrought as a result is not my doing."

"Nice way of saying you started this mess but don't want to take responsibility for it," Link snapped.

Surprisingly, that gave the king pause, and he sighed, looking away. "I cannot claim responsibility for what I have not done. I won't. Everything that has occurred since my return is my doing. Not before."

Link was growing too worn out for this argument, but he still had too many things to say. When he opened his mouth to do so, however, he coughed instead, collapsing onto the pillows. Ganondorf's gaze returned to him, softer and mildly worried, and it baffled Link beyond comprehension.

His enemy shook his head subtly with another sigh and tucked the hero in a little better. "I figured this conversation would be too much for you in this state. Get some rest, child."

The captain wanted to scream at him, to find the Master Sword and gut him, but between the man's strange look and the teenager's own exhaustion, all he could do was comply, closing his eyes.

[destiel-more-like-im-dead-again]

... did you make a little Cas plush?

Have you ever tried knitting or crocheting, Dean?

Yeah I’ve knitted the intestines of idiots and crocheted the tendons of damned

[nannelflannel]

Tagged by @stardust-king !!!

name: danielle!

nickname: elle, flannel, bullet

age: 21 ayyyy

gender: cis fem

eyes/hair: greyish blue?? Maybe. And usually pastel pink and brown roots, but I’ve been trying to do red, but my hair keeps fading to blonde ;n; (i bleached it a lot, it’s probably too porous now, rip)

piercings: none~

scars: mmm i got a tiny one on my leg from slipping at a pool once, somehow still have it lmao

tattoos: just one, of this lil doodle my grandma does~ i really want an autobot insignia on my ankle, and desmond’s arm tattoo from assassins creed, and probably a fox somewhere nyeheh

alignment: probably true neutral tbh

myer briggs: isfp, the artist~

sexuality: mmmm i wanna say demibi cause im bad at labels and I’m honestly a big ol question mark

occupation: retail worker and a struggling artist 🤙

pets: i have my girlfriend’s cat snuggles to love on haha, and I really want a dog one day

religion: agnostic tbh, i like to think that we just become space stuff again, like we started out as~

languages: just english, and im barely good at it now

hobbies: i love me some drawing, i work on comics with the lovely @radicalhighgay, and I’ve started getting into film/animation analysis too lmao. And I play video games a lot heheh

interests: oof there’s so many tbh, but my mains are probably sonic, transformers, assassins creed, pokemon, aaaand memes

blogs: this one and @bullet-art, my badly kept art blog, and I do the art on @sfytc-au , @single-parents-night-au , @og-freedom-fighters , @askhumansmokebee , and @tfphomecoming !

tags: yall dont gotta do this but if you wanna~~ @radicalhighgay @zonerz @pikachugirl1250 @atatfortatzelwurm @superemeralds @artisticgamer @sapphirechao @infinite-ruby-things and if i forgot anyone pls forgive me shshshjfjkfh

Thank!! These are fun ;w;

[possym-blog]

tonights mood feat. my shit edgy music taste

[hiddenawayhaven]

Deku Link! What a project! Took me about 15 hours to make from start to finish. I am some proud. Original pattern by Artisticgaming and the pattern can be found here: http://artisticgaming.com/portfolio/legend-zelda-deku-link-free-crochet-pattern/ #dekulink #legendofzelda #loz #crochet #amigurumiaddict #crochetaddict (at Halifax, Nova Scotia)

[raise-our-glasses-to-freedom]

Revolutionary Squad X Reader: Carnival

Word Count: 805

Pronouns: They/Them

Summary: A sequel to Another Time, Then?. Read that first. 

You smooth the wrinkles out of your shirt as you look in the mirror, inspecting your appearance. You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and blink. You look good. Your smile lights up your face, crinkling your eyes.

John pokes his head into your bedroom and looks you over from head to toe.

“There’s no need to be so fancy. We’re just going to a boardwalk,” he remarks.

“It’s always good to make a first impression,” you retort. “Your jeans and t-shirt won’t impress them much.”

“First impression? Y/N, we’ve met them already. I would imagine that our first impression was not that bad if I literally beat one of them up and they still want to go out tonight!”

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend. “I imagine they want to go out with me. You’re just a tagalong.”

“A tagalong?” John exclaims, breathless. He regains a tall posture and lifts his eyebrow. “We shall see.”

  You end up meeting the other three guys fifteen minutes later than proposed, as you stood with John and a rather large ice cream for twenty minutes. When they finally approached, you said nothing, and simply lifted your eyebrows at the three men.

“Our car wouldn’t start,” Hercules apologized.

“Then we got stuck in traffic!” Alexander complained.

“Just come on,” you tell them, gesturing towards the boardwalk, which leads to a carnival in the distance. “If we’re going to arrive before the lines get long, we should hurry up.”

Each of the guys agreed with your suggestion, and you all sauntered along the boardwalk, admiring the reflection of the sunset in the water. You glance behind you and notice John and Alexander walking closely, talking in hushed voices.

“Apologizing, John?” You question your boyfriend. He simply rolled his eyes. You then turned to address Alexander.

“Well, don’t be stealing my boyfriend,” you tease him.

“I already have these two,” he says, gesturing to Hercules and Lafayette. “I don’t need another.”

You laugh, amused at the joke. When Alexander doesn’t join in, but simply smiles, you stop laughing in confusion.

“Wait, so … you three are dating each other?” You question.

“Yeah,” Hercules responds. “It’s a bit strange to people who have never heard of polyamory before, but … yeah. We’re all boyfriends.”

You stay silent for a few minutes, processing this information.

“Uh, I’m … I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Alexander breaks the silence.

“No, it’s fine. It just … wasn’t what I was expecting.”

The bright lights of the carnival blare in front of you, dazzling your eyes.

“Laf, what’s the french word for a carnival?” Alexander asks.

“Kermesse,” Laf responds. “Or carnival. They can both be used.”

  You enjoy the carnival rides to the best of your extent, but there are too many questions bubbling in your brain. You eventually just stand off to the side, watching the four guys on the ferris wheel, feigning sickness from the rather large ice cream you had eaten.

You drift off into your thoughts and don’t even realize when the boys arrive at your side. John pokes you in the arm.

“Want to do anything else, or are you tired?” John asked you.

“Can we head back?” You demand. “I’m just a bit tired.”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

  You wander back on the boardwalk with the group. Alexander, John and Lafayette quickly immerse themselves in a deep conversation about languages.

Nerds.

You watch Hercules walking off to the side, not participating in the conversation, but watching Alexander and Lafayette - his two boyfriends - with love in his eyes. You move to be standing beside Hercules, and you gently touch his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He asks you.

“Can I ask you about your relationship?” You tread gently, not wanting to intrude or make him uncomfortable.

“Sure! Go ahead.”

“How … does it work? How can you date two people at once?”

“It’s just like you can have two friends at once, right? It’s just that I love both Alexander and Lafayette romantically.”

“Don’t you ever get jealous?”

“No. We talk a lot in our relationship. Communication is always really important,” says Hercules. “We always make sure that each of us is comfortable.”

“Wow. That’s actually … really interesting.”

“They both make me really happy,” admits Hercules. “I love them both, and I really can’t imagine life without either of them.”

“That’s really sweet,” you smile. “I wish I had a relationship like that.”

“Do you not have that with John?” Hercules questions.

“Well, I suppose, yeah. It’s just that, dating more than one person sounds really interesting,” you tell him. “And to think that it unnerved me a bit earlier.”

Hercules smiles. “It’s always great to make people more open to the idea of polyamory. It can be really great if you find the people that you’re destined to love.”

Tag List: @fightmeatweedhawken @artisticgamer @kanadianwithashippingproblem @spicydice @drabbles-of-a-cosmonaut

[star-mania]

Controller WIP

Posted using PostyBirb

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Do you remember the asks I sent a while ago about how another hero would have risen faster if Zelda had let link die in the calamity and the new hero’s « imaginary friend » was the spirit of botw link acting as the companion for the new hero? And how it would make botw link’s family feel? Do you think you could write something with that?

(@wildsage00 @luckybyrdrobyn @artisticgamer)

There was chatter of a strange swordsman amongst the gossipers in Hateno.

Abel was wary of it. He didn't like when there was "exciting" news in Hateno. He preferred it when the village was quiet. It had been quiet for so long, any change in the status quo immediately put him on edge.

He could only handle so much these days. Hylia knew Lyra was enough of a handful.

It had been fifteen years since the Calamity. Fifteen years since he'd lost nearly everything, fifteen years since he'd failed in his duty as a knight, as a husband, and as a parent, fifteen years since he'd buried his soldiers, civilians, his father-in-law, his wife, and his son all within the span of a few weeks.

He still had never spoken of it since then.

In a way, it was foolish of him not to bring it up. Clearly Lyra was just as affected as him, and she had far more of her mother's temperament than his own. He handled the matter silently while she fell apart. He held her while she cried herself to sleep night after night, shivering from nightmares, begging him to make it better and find a way to bring her family back.

She'd stopped crying, after a while. He'd hoped it meant she was improving, but he knew better. His daughter's one saving grace was that both her parents were stubborn, and she had inherited that. It had been interesting, watching which child took after which parent and how they blended them together. Link had always been sensitive, and he had grown quiet under pressure, putting duty above all else like his father. Lyra had always been louder like her mother, understanding the importance of duty but always questioning it; despite this, she held much of her father in her, growing resistant, angry, driven, outright frightening in the face of pressure. She would rise to the challenge and destroy any obstacle in her way out of pure spite if she had to.

As the years had gone by, Lyra's stubbornness and anger came to a head in her adolescence, that horrid time when a desire to grow, naiveté to the world, and self centered viewpoint all mixed into a stubborn and emotional teenager who wouldn't listen.

Those years had been difficult. Abel and Lyra had fought many times, and he'd had to leave the village in search of her more often than he cared to recall. She'd been insistent on learning how to fight, on reclaiming Hyrule as if she could do so by herself, on picking up her brother's sword and killing Ganon singlehandedly.

Those years had... strained their relationship. But they were trying to rebuild. Abel had compromised, teaching her a little of how to fight. She patrolled the forest just outside of Hateno and fought off monsters. Every time she returned with excited tales of her victories his smile grew a little more. It was a fair arrangement, and it kept things quiet and peaceful.

Until the talk of a swordsman started.

Visitors to Hateno Village were a rarity. No one dared venture out of whatever safe haven they had found the first few years after the Calamity. Refugees trickled into town the first few years and Hateno could barely support them. It wasn't until close to a decade later that anyone dared explore once more, and that was when word spread of the dangers of travelers. Strangers were watched warily these days.

Abel washed some dirt off his hands by the pond as he listened to some women gossiping. He heard feet shuffling and glanced to see Uma, one of the village teenagers, approaching him.

"Sir Abel, Mom says there's a swordsman in town," she noted.

Abel hummed noncommittally in acknowledgement.

"Have you seen him?" Uma continued gently.

Abel sighed. Uma was one of the chattier kids in the village, and she found events outside of Hateno fascinating. Naturally, she gravitated towards those who had any sort of experience with the rest of the world, so Abel had been victim to her interrogations in the past. An exciting visitor was definitely likely to pique her interest. "No. And you'd best be careful about him."

Uma gave a small pout, nodding a little in acknowledgement before asking, "Do you know where Lyra is?"

As a matter of fact, Abel did not know. Given the current excitement buzzing through town, he probably should look for her. "No."

"Oh. Ok. Can I get you anything before I go, Sir Abel?"

Abel paused from drying his hands on his tunic. The question was spoken innocently from the lips of a child who didn't know any better, but its origin was something he didn't care to think about.

Hateno Village was not a large place. Everyone knew everyone. They had all known Abel and his family, they had all seen Link walk through town to get home with a legendary blade on his back. Though many didn't know the happenings of Hyrule, word spread of the Hero of Hyrule, the Princess' Champion, and his role in destiny. Just before the Calamity it had gotten bad enough that Link no longer spoke in to anyone in the village and barely uttered a word in the safety of his family's home. When everything had fallen apart...

Well. Abel didn't care for the way people looked at him. Most did so with pity. Some with curiosity, eager to hear what had actually happened. The mayor had been kind enough to prevent any sort of interrogation. Over the years the concern and nosiness had transferred to their children. Uma was a kind soul from a kind family, and had clearly been told that Abel was in need of help, and so she always offered when she could.

He hated it.

"No," he answered quietly, and the teenager traipsed off, likely in search of Lyra, unbothered by his short responses.

Sighing, the world weary man turned and nearly ran into yet another teenager, though he immediately realized this one was not from the village. Based on the boy's dark complexion and black hair, he looked like he could be from Lurelin Village, one of the few remaining hamlets in the entire country. He was built strong; though short in stature, his muscles were apparent, sculpted from training though still softened by youth. He wore garb from the fishing village, all the more confirmation to Abel, and, as suspected based on the rumors, he had a sword on his back alongside multiple travel supplies.

Abel watched the boy warily. He hadn't expected the swordsman to be this young, but he still didn't trust him. What was he doing here, anyway?

"Um... hi," the teenager said, shifting in place awkwardly. "I... heard that girl--Uma? She... she called you Sir Abel. Are you Sir Abel?"

"What do you want?" Abel asked, crossing his arms and staring the boy down.

The teenager shriveled a little under his gaze before glancing to his right, staring at something for a moment. He took a shaky breath, his hazel eyes darting back to Abel for a moment.

Something about this kid was off.

"My... I..." the kid tried awkwardly, and then gave a sharp bow. "Sorry! I'll leave now!"

With that, the boy rushed by him, heading for the village inn. Abel watched him go, hackles less raised than before as he grew bemused.

XXX

The inn was really nice. Like, much nicer than the one back home. Of course, he guessed more people came here. Hateno was more centrally located. Maybe that was it.

Link didn't know. All he knew was this place was so big and overwhelming. He missed home.

After paying for a place to rest, he dragged his feet upstairs, thankful that he had the place to himself. Then he looked hesitantly to his right. "I'm... I'm sorry. He's... I..."

"It's okay," came the always quiet voice as the Hero reappeared, eyes downcast. "He can be intimidating."

Link watched his companion worriedly. The Fallen Hero often had an air of sadness to him, but he usually tried to hide it behind a neutral face or a small smile. Today had been a nerve wracking day for both of them - as soon as he'd been given this new task he'd seen the tension in his companion increase, and he'd spoken even less.

"You said he was the captain of the guard," Link offered with a shrug, trying to cheer him up and also trying to figure this out. "I mean... captains sound intimidating."

The Hero huffed a little, not commenting, still gazing somewhere far beyond where Link could reach. He wondered if it had to do with the Hero's guilt. Link had seen his friend through the years, playing with him, and as he'd grown older the visits had been fewer and far between until the Hero had finally admitted his true destiny with reluctance. He had apologized, stating that the fault was his own, but had promised to be with him every step of the way. Link had found what answers he could from his family and his village, but not much was known about the Hero of Hyrule except that he, alongside all the other Champions, had been killed.

Link supposed the true issue, then, was that the Hero's guilt made him think that he had failed the captain of the royal guard. After all, he had been tasked with protecting not just Hyrule, but the princess specifically. Now she was trapped in the castle.

This entire side quest was... terrifying to Link. He had been traveling with his friend for a good while now, but after many battles and growing in strength, the Hero had said they needed to find Sir Abel, who would be able to help him find the legendary sword that they would need to defeat Ganon. That had led them to Hateno Village.

The idea of taking the mantle of Hero had not quite sunk in until he'd realized that once he accepted that sword, he accepted his destiny. Having to do so was already weighing heavily on him... having to speak to such a scary looking man didn't help.

He kind of looked like his friend, though. That was weird.

"I'll talk to him, I promise," Link said as he sat on the bed. "I just... need to come up with a good way to approach him. Got any tips?"

The Hero hugged himself, looking opposite of Link.

Well, great. His friend was really upset about this. Link sighed. "Hey. It's... don't feel bad about... him. The Calamity destroyed the entire country and killed all the Champions. You know that it's... it's okay, right?"

He'd been trying to have this conversation for a while now. It was obvious his companion bore the weight of the entire Calamity on his shoulders. He'd tried dancing around the subject, thanking him for his help, saying he was great fun to be around. It had been complicated at first - he'd wondered if the Hero had befriended him as a child just to manipulate him into doing his duty when he was older. But he knew this person - he knew the reason he'd befriended him was out of shame, not some devious ulterior motive. So he'd been trying to cheer him up, because any joy he'd seen in his friend had slowly drained out of him as their quest had progressed.

The Hero looked back at him, face stony.

Link huffed. "It's okay. I wouldn't expect you to stop an entire freaking army of guardians. They look really creepy."

"You haven't faced one yet."

"Yeah, yeah, so I don't know how strong they are, whatever," Link said dismissively. "They still look freakishly strong."

"That's why I've told you stay away from Central Hyrule."

"Okay, but like, there were a million of them at the fort on the way here."

The Hero grew silent.

"Did... did Sir Abel fight them?" Link asked hesitantly. When he got no response, he sighed. "We'll figure it out, okay? I'll get the sword."

"Please," his friend suddenly said. "Don't... don't try to do this for me. I don't want you to do this for me."

"You want me to do it for Hyrule?"

"I want you to choose to do it."

"I already did," Link answered immediately. "I chose this. And I'll, uh... choose to maybe try some of the local food and go fishing before I get near that guy again."

His companion chuckled, a rare smile pulling at his lips. "I'll think of a way you can approach him in the meantime."

"Great! You think about it so I don't have to," Link chirped happily, hopping to his feet. "Maybe we can talk at dinner?"

"You know I can't maintain my form that long."

"Breakfast?"

His companion pointed outside the window, and Link slowly walked to it. This was another trial, wasn't it?

"Get the spirit orb from the shrine," the Hero instructed. "I'll meet you after that."

"Spirit orb. Got it." Link nodded, turning to smile only to find himself alone in the room. He felt a little cold and empty all of a sudden, sad and lonely, but he tried to shake it off. He wished his friend could just stay with him, but he guessed it took work being a spirit in a land of... not spirits.

Link looked back outside, catching sight of the knight he was supposed to talk to. The man was wandering by the inn, throwing a wary glance its way. The fisherman gulped.

Later. He'd deal with it later. It was time to relax for the day, and then defeat the shrine in the morning so he could talk to his companion.

They'd figure this out together, like they always did.

[figarosbackpack-blog]

And to bring forth this halloween holiday we have officially placed our one of a kind handmade wreath. Yes we gamers are crafty! Turn on those notifications, follow us on #pinterest and stay tuned as we will begin announcing some #handmade #halloween spectacular creations #halloween #wreath #oneofakind #handmade #crafts #lights #web #peonies #gothic #dark #victorian #enterifyoudare #skeletonkey #geeks #artisticgeeks #artisticgeekswithcats #catgeek #gamerswithcats #artisticgamers #artisticgamerswithcats #trickortreat #doorwreath #dingdong https://www.instagram.com/p/BoabaPel1PK/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=197c2pr3rmg9l

[star-mania]

Controller WIP

This is a small drawing of a controller I've got in the works.

Posted using PostyBirb

[star-mania]

A Simple Betilla Doodle

Currently working on more OC projects, so have a little doodle in the meantime.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

botw Zora armour for the prompt?

(@wildsage00 @artisticgamer @luckybyrdrobyn)

Link wasn't sure what he had been expecting upon entering a divine beast for the first time, but it wasn't this.

Maybe he'd been expecting something akin to the shrines. Stale and warm at the same time, strange but familiar. He'd woken up in a shrine, it was the first imprint of the world that he had. As much as he loved the villages and the wilds, the shrines were somehow the most familiar things to him. That didn't necessarily make them homely, but... routine, perhaps, was a good word.

But he knew the divine beasts were cursed with the calamity's malice, he knew they'd be something to conquer rather than solve. So maybe he'd suspected a place filled with traps and danger, a place that felt terrifying or thrilling or unsafe.

Instead, it felt cold and haunting. Instead, it was damp and chilled not only his body but his soul. Instead, it made the armor he wore stick to him like skin, scales digging into his chest with a sharpness and pressure that stole his breath away.

Instead, it felt like a mausoleum.

He had barely stepped into the beast when he heard a voice whispering in his mind. It was eerily familiar, making his skin crawl and his heart beat harder and faster. An image of the statue came to mind, and his entire being screamed.

Mipha.

Hylia above. He heard Mipha.

He could see her in every corner of the beast, he could envision her pain and terror with every touch of malice that entered his sight. She'd smile around one corner, showing him what her divine beast could do, and then he'd turn another corner and find a piece of the calamity's horrors staring at him, startling him out of the memory and into action. Her voice cheered him on, guiding him through the beast, and he couldn't help but hope beyond all measure that somehow she was still alive, that this wasn't a spirit but just her using the beast to communicate with him while being held hostage, just as Zelda was doing from the castle.

His mind could barely remember her, but his heart ached for her nonetheless.

He wanted a piece of himself back. Zora's Domain had been the first true piece of his old self that had smacked him in the face. Everyone here knew him, knew him, knew the Hero of a hundred years ago, the person he was supposed to be.

And Mipha...

Link's hand rested over the centerpiece of his armor, over the scale Mipha had given to protect him. For a moment he could feel a smooth palm on his cheek, he could feel thin fingers caress through his hair, nails gently massaging his scalp. He shivered, hugging himself.

Please be alive. I'm coming, Mipha.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Final Hour (Linked Universe fanfic)

(@artisticgamer, @ludoluck sorry I keep forgetting to tag you guys for my writing)

Inspired by @kikker-oma's amazing Fierce Deity art. Love your talent and your creativity, Oma! <3

Summary: When everything goes horribly wrong, Time desperately attempts everything in his power to fix it. Wind instead chooses to be the self sacrificing Hero, but the end result isn't what Time expected it to be.

(AO3 link)

The clocktower tolled.

He saw her. He saw Zelda standing in front of him, sad and beautiful and aged beyond her years, just like him. He saw her morose smile, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, her steady resolve despite it all. He saw her play the ocarina as she grew ever smaller and farther away while his hand reached out desperately for her.

The clocktower tolled.

He saw her. He saw Malon smiling sweetly at him, bright and beautiful and innocent, like how he used to be. He saw the freckles on her cheeks pull as she giggled and called him by that nickname she’d made up a lifetime ago. He saw her eyes grow fierce with a desire for adventure as she worked with an unruly mare. He saw her twirl as they danced together.

The clocktower tolled.

He saw them. He saw Anju and Kafei’s love and desperation and acceptance in their eyes as they held each other, as she said they’d greet the morning together while his hand held hers in a white knuckled grip. He saw them tremble as he turned and ran outside.

The clocktower tolled.

He saw them. He saw the Heroes of Hyrule, how they were all young, experienced, hurt, filled with power and hope and light. He saw how they emanated a strength that couldn’t be quantified, an inherent resolve and determination to their core that shone through and resonated between each and every one of them, a shared bond and unbreakable spirit. He saw their uniqueness, their wonder, their gifts and quirks.

And he saw them fall, one by one.

The clocktower tolled.

They’d been wounded. They’d been weak. They’d just fought multiple hordes and had been desperately trying to get to the nearest village. They’d known it hadn’t been far, from the forest they could hear the bells of a clocktower in a nearby town.

There had been a split in the path. Time had chosen the route.

The clocktower tolled.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It couldn’t happen.

The black blooded dragon roared again, held at bay by the few still standing. He heard a scream, and a body collapse on the ground. He couldn’t even tell who was still standing anymore; he’d been one of the last to fall. Nearly everyone had stilled, no longer writhing in agony or sheer force of will.

Except for Wind.

The sailor groaned as he desperately crawled forward, reaching above Time, whose hand was overhead as he’d been grabbing desperately at one of his items when he fell, as he’d been willing to throw his life, sanity, everything away in a frantic attempt to fix this.

The wooden mask barely was within his grasp, propped by a finger.

Despite the severity of the situation, despite the cold silence of his companions, despite the clocktower ringing in his ears, a reminder of time after time of facing death and life and everything in between as his entire journey flashed before his eyes, he wanted to save Wind from this. The mask was too dangerous for anyone else. What good would such a victory do if the child was lost to the darkness?

“Please, Wind… no.”

He had other methods he could call on.

He had other items he could use.

The Hero of Time was nothing if not relentless. He never gave up. Never. Not even now, not even when he was bleeding to death, when the world around him blurred and dulled, when his mind was screaming and running into the past rather than focusing on the present. Not even now. He’d spent a lifetime perfecting three days over and over and over until he could get everything right and save everyone. He refused to let this be any different.

“You said…” Wind pleaded desperately, his voice trembling, tears and blood and phlegm rolling down his face from what little of it Time could see. With a hiccup, he continued, “You said it’s for emergencies, right? It’s okay, I’ll save you!”

I’ll save you. A last, desperate, pleading promise. The others couldn’t be saved, but Time was still here.

Time’s hands fumbled around his belt, desperately searching for the item he needed.

The clocktower tolled. The dragon roared again, any obstacle between it and the last pair of heroes long gone.

The mask slipped from Time’s finger, a rough disappearance as if it had been pulled.

“Sailor,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper, his world spinning and fading fast. He had to move.

Wind screamed.

The noise jolted Time out of his stupor, adrenaline feebly trying to awaken what little life essence he had left in him. He had enough energy to look up and see a figure towering over him where Wind originally had been crawling.

The monster bore Wind’s curls, bleached white. It bore Time’s armor, with a decorative fairy pendant dangling in the breeze as it stood stock still. Wind’s face was older, chiseled, once-chubby cheeks pulled taught over cheekbones that shouldn’t be so developed. Its eyes glowed, contrasting the purple and blue markings that cut across its face.

The Fierce Deity.

Time let out a desperate breath, unable to speak anymore, and watched helplessly as the cursed mask made Wind’s possessed body march across the field towards the dragon that awaited him. He couldn’t see the fight, but he could hear it. He heard the grunts, deeper than they should be, the fierce battle cries, the screeches from the dragon as its opponent landed cut after cut. He breathed hastily, feeling his heart quicken, feeling his body begin to grow numb, and he again searched desperately on his belt for the one thing that could change everything.

Warriors was gone. Sky was gone. Four was gone. Legend was gone. Hyrule was gone. Wild was gone.

Twilight was gone.

Time was going to be damned if he would let Wind fall in the worst way possible.

The clocktower tolled.

The dragon screamed, and the earth shook.

And then everything grew silent.

Time gasped for air, trying to raise his head, wanting to call for the young sailor, for the brightest ray of sunshine in the group, for the one last surviving member.

He couldn’t move.

So this is how I meet death? He wondered. On the verge of tears, an utter failure to all who depended on me?

He remembered the people of Termina. He remembered how they all faced death in their own ways. He thought of Cremia and Romani, of Anju and Kafei.

Goddesses. He missed Malon so desperately right now.

Heavy footsteps approached him, and he blinked, the world coming back into focus long enough for his body to scream that he couldn’t take any more of this. A blurry image hovered over him, and he squinted, confused, until his mind registered who he was staring at, and his hands finally found the item they’d been searching for.

The Fierce Deity knelt down slowly, eyes fixed on him. When his knees sank into the ground, he reached slowly, sliding a hand behind Time and pulling him into a seated position. Time cried out in pain with the motion, and the cursed deity paused only a moment before reaching his other hand towards the Hero of Time’s fumbling hands, pulling the ocarina from their grasp. Time tried to protest, tried to fight against his possessed successor’s hold, but he was too weak to do anything. Then amethyst rose into his periphery, and he looked down to see the Ocarina of Time hovering in front of his lips.

“Play, Link,” the Fierce Deity said, Wind’s higher voice pitched into a deeper timber and holding power and energy the boy didn’t usually possess. “Save them, as you always do.”

Time stared at the deity, his fears and thoughts stolen away. The pair was frozen for a moment, the world pausing around them, time itself holding its breath in anticipation. A gentleness fell over the cursed deity’s face, and Time felt the thumb behind his back caress him once, ever so softly. Understanding slid between the two, a heavy, bone deep realization that dug into Time’s mind more than he could fathom in the moment, a certainty and safety and assurance and comfort that he'd somehow always felt but always ignored. He let out a shaky exhale and, with trembling hands, took the ocarina from the Fierce Deity.

And he played.

The world turned white.

Time felt warmth engulf him, like an embrace from tender arms. Magic sparkled inside his mind and heart, a familiar friend, singing and resonating with his song like fairies humming together, a melody entwined in mystery and grace. His horizon shifted, and he was on his feet, set there gently as if floating through the air. The warmth spread from his core to his extremities, the numbness in his fingers dissipating, the stabbing pain of his own armor piercing his gut dulling into nothingness. The blood on him washed away with invisible waters, and an airless breeze blew the dirt off his body. He continued to play, the melody growing steadier as his strength returned, his determination steeling him, tightening his weakened muscles and bringing an assurance that he hadn’t felt since Termina.

Save them, as you always do.

Oh, the countless times he’d played this hymn, this spell, this prayer. Oh, the countless times he’d clung to it desperately as he tried again, the numerous times he’d played it in tears at his failure, the many times he’d nearly belted it in fortitude as he prepared with renewed hope and a plan in place.

Save them, Link.

“Really, old man? You’re playing your ocarina right now? We have wounded, we need to get moving.”

Time’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Legend’s voice.

They were all there, tired and hurt but alive. Sky was leaning against Hyrule, eyes half closed but body stiff with stubbornness, while Hyrule held him with a fierce protectiveness. Legend was watching him impatiently, scraped and bruised but relatively unharmed and clearly anxious to get help for the others. Four and Warriors were bringing up the rear, watching everyone’s backs and growing ever more confused by the turn of events. Wind hovered with some distress between Sky and Wild, who was the other most injured member of the group, though the champion was well looked after in Twilight’s hold as the rancher carried him on his back.

Twilight.

Time stared at him too long, meriting a worried expression from the rancher. “You alright?”

Blinking the oncoming tears away, the eldest Link took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s keep going.”

“That’s what I said,” Legend grumbled, turning back towards the road ahead.

“Yeah, but which way?” Twilight asked, staring at the fork in the road.

The clocktower tolled.

Time pointed left.

��But I can hear the bells to the east of here,” Hyrule noted as he steadied Sky a little. “Shouldn’t we take the path on the right?”

“We’re taking this one,” Time said firmly, brooking no argument. The group followed him silently as he tried to reorient and move ahead like nothing had happened.

His hand slipped into his adventure pouch subconsciously as they walked, and the group started to talk amongst themselves, their voices the most beautiful things he’d ever heard. His heart rate began to normalize, and he closed his eyes, basking in the safety of seeing and hearing everyone alive again.

His fingers brushed against wood in his pouch, and they tingled with warm energy that climbed all the way up his arm, through his shoulder, and into his core. He took another steadying breath, clutching the mask tenderly as an entirely different set of emotions nearly knocked him to the ground, confusion and relief and hope and fear and curiosity above all else.

Another time. Today he tread ahead cautiously and protected his family.

Today he saved them, as he always would.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

How about some more Calamity Angst with Abel

(@artisticgamer @luckybyrdrobyn @kikker-oma because I know you're a sucker for angst LOL)

A continuation of this story.

Wow. Uhhh... this is heavy, guys.

The world around him was deafening.

There was so much noise, and his ears were ringing so much, he honestly couldn't tell what sound came from what source anymore. Was it a scream? Was it a guardian? Was that a child wailing or a gear grinding? Was that his heart pounding in his ears or was it a thunderclap from another beam firing?

Abel stumbled away from the ruins, away from the flames, away from the war zone. The city was lost, just as the castle had been. But at least some civilians had been saved. They were being escorted with what few royal guards he had left, headed for Kakariko and Hateno.

Upon entering the burning fields, though, Abel caught sight of many soldiers, none of whom wore his own uniform.

The army.

"Captain!" one of them called, bearing the insignia of general.

Abel stood in place, suddenly filled with a million different emotions. He couldn't decipher what was happening in his own body and mind anymore, but his blood was burning white hot.

The general approached him. "We're rallying the troops for a last stand. Akkala is the safest fortress available to us. If we lure the guardians that way, it'll give everyone a better chance."

A better chance. A better chance.

What chance had they had in Castle Town? Where the fuck was the army then?!

A better chance. It gave Link and the princess a better chance. A chance to get away, a chance to be safe, a chance to regroup.

Regroup with who? Who would regroup with them if the army was going to Akkala?

"Captain?"

Abel realized he'd been staring. He'd been staring and hadn't even offered a salute, let alone an acknowledgement.

There was so much noise. He forgot he was staring again.

"Akkala. Right." He finally ground out hoarsely before coughing. How much smoke had he inhaled? How hot were the flames burning?

He felt a weight on his shoulder, heavy and warm, and he jumped, startled, distractedly reaching for a sword that had broken after cutting through a guardian's leg. Then he came back to reality and realized it was the general.

"There's hope yet," the general said determinedly.

You didn't see the city burn like I did.

Abel swallowed. But Link was still alive. The princess was still alive. They were the key to everything, according to the legend.

And the guardians... they... they couldn't have possibly reached Hateno, no, no, no, they were still in the main field, they hadn't gotten that far. The military was trying to draw them to the fortress.

He had to do his part.

"Men! Move out!" the general called in general, his hand sliding off Abel's shoulder, leaving the captain swaying in place.

The world moved around him. The world burned around him. The world screamed around him.

Abel stared ahead, watching troops march together, some limping, others helping their comrades. Many had wagons and horses to help them.

He heard whirring. He heard gears. He heard claws, and ticking, and thunder.

Abel turned seeing several guardians taking notice of them. One soldier called out to him, offering a horse.

The guardians came closer. The soldiers began to run and yell. Were they fighting? Were they drawing the guardians away?

But there were... there had been so many of them. Surely this handful of monsters wasn't all that remaiend?

Where are they going? Where are they going?!

The civilians. Fort Hateno. Link. Hateno. Home. Tilieth. Lyra. Toyen.

Abel stared back at the soldiers again. Watched them rally together. Looked out at the burning fields, covered in such dense smoke that nothing was recognizable.

He ran.

He ran into the flames, into the smoke, into the fields and flowers and bodies and guardians. He tripped over a fallen woman, ignoring the stillness of her form, the hand outreached to someone else who was so burned they were unrecognizable. He stood and kept running.

The countrywide famous ranch was aflame, horses galloping chaotically in terror, their whinnies screaming into the air. There was no sign of any living people, and Abel didn't bother to try to look for survivors. He could barely breathe in the smoke as it was.

But he knew he needed to get to the fort quickly.

Running to get alongside one of the frightened steeds, he grabbed at its reigns and steadily slowed enough to calm it. He grabbed the saddle and pulled himself upward as the horse trotted, still agitated, and then urged it away from the ruins of Castle Town, away from the soldiers and the handful of guardians hot on their heels. His exhausted body clung desperately to the horse as he goaded her to gallop at full speed before a nearby metal monster could pick up on their trail. There were still a few civilians fleeing in every direction with no more coordinated movement or protection from the soldiers.

Either these were the stragglers or there were no knights left.

Abel again found himself wishing he'd died in the castle, or even in the city as his fellow knights had. But he had a purpose now; while he had lost the castle and the capital, he had a plan.

He had to get to Fort Hateno.

Let the general and his army hold their last stand. Let them die with honor. But Abel knew for certain that not all of the guardians were following them to the fortress, and as a royal guard, he had a duty to the last remaining member of the royal family.

And he would be damned if he didn't go to support Link as he'd promised.

He'd told him he'd meet him at the fort, and that was what he would do.

His horse whinnied with panic as flames spread too close, licking at its hooves and his heels. He steered the mare around the flames as she almost bucked him off, and then the flames were abruptly disrupted by a clawed foot tearing into the earth and squelching them.

In the haze and smoke, Abel recognized the pink mechanical eye transfixed on him. He sucked in a sharp inhale, coughing harshly on the smoke in his lungs, and urged his mount to move.

The guardian was hot on his heels, charging its laser as he once again pushed the horse to run faster. His steed neighed in protest, her stamina draining out of her faster than it could replenish, and the guardian fired.

The earth shook, and Abel's world was wrenched out from under him. His heart shot into his throat as he hurdled through the air, landing with such impact that it thrust all the air out of him. He tumbled a ways down the path before eventually slipping into the brier, thorns holding him hostage as they shredded his already tattered uniform. He moaned, unable to move for a moment as the guardian paused just outside of the area where he was, pacing back and forth like an animal searching for its prey. After a while the whirring of its alarms grew distant as it swiveled its head to another target, and Abel heard screams. The guardian scurried away.

There was a moment, brief, strange, otherworldly, where the world just--changed? The captain blinked a moment, and suddenly the world was darker yet brighter, hotter yet colder, and it was wet.

It was nighttime. The flames were still burning. It was raining.

How--did he pass out...? When...?

Abel took a shuddering breath, his body screaming, the world spinning, but he rose anyway, feeling a thorn cut his arm as it pulled a frayed piece of uniform, holding it hostage in its spiky grasp, leaving Abel's arm more exposed and bleeding. The captain coughed as he stood on trembling legs, and his world shifted again.

He managed to avoid face planting into the brier itself, but the mud was another matter.

Groaning, Abel rose again, spitting out blood from his now split lip, rubbing his face as the rain washed some dirt away while his soiled hands caked more onto it. He stumbled a few paces, looking around for the mare he'd been on, and remembered what had happened.

Panting for air, the captain stumbled, walked, and then ran. The ground was torn up with heavy footprints, claws cutting into the earth like lacerations into skin. The rain filled the gorges with puddles, as if the earth were trying to turn this Calamity-made devastation back into something natural.

The rain was deafening. So was the thunder. Thunder? Was it thunder? Or was it guardians?

Abel whirled around warily, tripping over a stone and falling once more.

And the world brightened.

It was an enormous flash, like that of lightning, but strangely... no thunder followed it. Abel didn't know what to make of it, but there was no immediate threat, and so he pulled himself up to his feet with a nearby fallen tree and marched ahead.

And marched. And marched. And marched.

Stumbling ahead, Abel gritted his teeth as a distraction against the pain shooting through his body. At this point he had no idea what time of day it was; between the burning skies around the castle and the storm fighting him every step he took, he felt like it could have been any time of day. It certainly felt like it had been at least twenty-four hours since the Calamity had started.

Abel coughed, leaning against a tree for a moment before growling at himself in frustration. He had to keep going.

Taking another step forward, he caught a glimpse of movement, and his brain registered that there were two men on the path ahead coming his way. They'd clearly noticed him before he had them, but given the fact that they were Sheikah and he was wearing the tattered remains of a royal guard's uniform, both parties knew the other was not an enemy.

And one of them was carrying--

Abel felt his breath get sucked out of him.

The blue garment. The sun kissed hair, painted golden brown like freshly baked bread, now soaked in red and brown and black and--

The still fingers. The still feet. The still body. The paleness, the redness, the black and blue and--

Abel couldn't breathe.

Goddess no. Goddess no, goddess no goddess nogoddessnogoddessnogoddessnononononono

"Captain...?"

Abel took one step blindly. Then another. He couldn't take his eyes off the boy, he couldn't get words to form. He reached out, his hand trembling, eyes wide with horror, screams caged in his chest, dying with what was left of his heart.

"Let him see him," the other Sheikah said quietly.

The knight continued to walk as if in a trance, tunnel vision preventing him from seeing or hearing anything else as the Sheikah warrior slowly lowered the boy to the ground. Abel reached him just as he was about put his head in the dirt, falling to his knees and supporting him.

The pale face. The open wound on his neck, burned through skin all the way to fatty tissue and muscle, the blood seeping through the champion's tunic, the shallowness of his breathing--

"He fought gallantly," one of the Sheikah said. "He protected the princess."

How did this--? That meant guardians were--and Fort Hateno was--and Hateno Village--

He couldn't breathe.

Abel choked, his muscles paralyzed, air refusing to move in or out, eyes refusing to close or move, transfixed on the boy, his baby boy--

"We're taking him somewhere where he can be healed, Captain. But we have to move quickly."

He... healed?

Healed?

They were... he could be... healed...?

Hands came into his vision, reaching for the little one in his arms, and he growled, pulling the body closer to him.

"Captain..."

"Just let him hold him. Captain, can you carry him for us? We have to move if he's to survive."

Survive. He could survive. He could survive.

Get up, idiot!

Supporting his boy properly in his arms, Abel rose, nodding. The two Sheikah glanced at each other a moment before nodding in return and bidding him to follow. Their path made him turn around, heading back towards the burning fields of Central Hyrule.

Why? Where were they going?

They ran quickly. Almost too quickly. But he wasn't going to follow behind, he couldn't, he wouldn't.

Abel ran until his knees started to give out, until his lungs burned, until his body was screaming so much at him that he was crying in the rain from sheer physical pain alone.

That was all that could make him cry at this point. He had no heart left anyway.

The Sheikah occasionally glanced back at him to see if he was keeping up. He refused to be the reason--

I sent him there. I sent him there.

This is my fault.

The trees thinned out. The smoke was back, as was the heat. How could the fire still be burning in this storm?

Was it still raining? He didn't even--he looked up and realized the sky was blushing with dawn, a haze overtaking the land, the rain having long stopped. He was still soaked to the bone, and he felt warm liquid settling into his chest and arms and clothes.

His blood.

Abel picked up the pace, nearly overtaking the pair ahead of him, and they held him steady when they stopped abruptly and he nearly toppled over.

"There are still guardians on the prowl, and I think they're up on the plateau. We can't fight them all, not yet. Follow us - we'll sneak by them to get to the shrine. Purah and Robbie should be waiting there, we sent word ahead."

Purah and Robbie? Shrine? Sneaking? Sneaking. They had to be quiet. He had to be quiet.

But they had to be fast. But they couldn't engage. So they had to be quiet.

Blood continued to trickle down his chest and abdomen.

The Sheikah moved silently, their training and specialized clothing allowing for them to be like shadows. Abel was... not so graceful. But with every glance they gave, with every hint of taking over to get his precious cargo where he needed to be, the knight held on to him even tighter, he held his breath, he stayed his tears, he choked back a groan or a grunt of a whimper, he bit his tongue so hard it bled to distract him from everything else.

The stairs leading up to the Great Plateau were in ruins, but scattered and fractured as they were, they were still somewhat passable. He could hear the destruction up above, the guardians reigning terror on the few people who had been there when everything had fallen apart.

He didn't even look at the Gatepost Town as they passed it. He just climbed. Heard firing lasers. Heard his own gasping breath and held it. Climbed more.

The Sheikah pair paused at the top of the stairs and then motioned to move. He ran with them, dodging between trees as the world burned. He glanced to the left a moment and saw the Temple of Time. People must have been holed up in there at some point--or they still were--as several guardians were attempting to break its walls and climb in.

"There you are! Who...?"

"Captain of the royal guard."

Abel looked ahead and saw two more Sheikah, a woman and a man, neither dressed as warriors. The female adjusted her glasses a little, brushing mud off her face as she pointed towards a cave.

"Let's get him in," she said hastily.

Abel followed, nearly slipping down the stairs, feeling the damp coolness of the cave stiffen his entire body. They continued a short distance before entering a dead end with some sort of bath in it.

"Put him in there," she directed him.

The knight stepped forward and then froze in front of the bath.

He... he couldn't put him down.

"What are you doing?" she asked impatiently. "He needs to be in there!"

He held the boy more tightly.

"Captain," the other spoke, suddenly at his side. "Your name is Abel, right?"

Abel stared at the bath, frozen in place, trembling from head to foot.

"My name's Robbie," the man continued. "I'm a scientist and researcher alongside Purah. This place is called the Shrine of Resurrection. It's going to heal him."

Abel forced air in and out of his lungs. Yes, yes. Shrine. Healed. He would be healed. Put him in.

Let him go.

He couldn't. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.

"He's your son, right?"

The room grew still. Abel finally moved, head turning slightly towards Robbie.

"The bath will heal him," Robbie said gently. "All you need to do is put him down."

Let him go.

Move, dammit!

Let him go!

You're going to kill him if you don't let him go!

Abel stared at the bath again, and his knees buckled. Purah gasped, her footsteps shooting forward as if to catch him, but he caught himself well enough, letting his knees and hips and back take the impact and holding the boy steady.

Slowly, he put Link in the bath, and he let him go.

Robbie's hand was on his shoulder. "Okay. Let us take it from here, Abel."

Abel took a step away. Then another. He backed up until he hit the cool damp wall behind him. He watched Purah and Robbie place a device in a stand, he watched everything glow blue, he watched water fill the bath until it nearly submerged his boy entirely.

"This shrine will seal and pressurize," Purah announced. "We need to go or we're not getting out until it's done."

"When will that be?" one of the Sheikah asked curiously.

Purah glanced at Abel a moment, uncertain, and sighed. "I... don't know. Could be a day, a week, a month, a year... multiple years. He's... pretty injured, and we've not tested the rate at which this place heals."

Abel swallowed and looked away, finding his voice. "There are still guardians out there. He won't be safe until we get rid of them."

He didn't wait for a reply. He didn't need one. The Sheikah followed him out of the shrine, Purah and Robbie lingering to make some final adjustments as Abel and the warriors surveyed the area.

Everything beyond that was just... a blur.

The scientists left. Advised him on a few things that he barely heard. Memory loss, healing time, maintaining the integrity of the shrine, something about a slate. The warriors planned an assault with him. Another guardian rampaged onto the plateau, its laser and weight finally making the stairway cave in, trapping all of them but preventing more enemies from coming.

They fought. For three days they fought. Kotek, the original warrior carrying Link, fell first. On the end of the second day, Moya fell as well.

Abel stood his ground before the guardian by the gardens, two of its legs sparking, its eye readying for another blast. He had no way to block it, no way to eliminate it. He should run into the forest.

He collapsed instead. The red beam that promised destruction took its aim on his forehead.

And then a golden light blinded him, and warmth and safety and otherworldly lightness flowed over him like a waterfall. He fell backwards entirely, shielding his eyes, and when he opened them, the guardian was motionless and quiet.

Wh... what...?

Abel stared at the guardian a moment, bewildered. Then he crawled towards it, poking it.

It didn't stir.

What?

The metal beast was still warm with use, filled with a fire of the charge it was about to unleash with him, but it... was... dead??

The sun shone brightly, and--

Wait. That... wasn't the sun.

Dragging himself around the husk of the guardian, Abel pulled himself to his feet with the nearest wall and stared.

Hyrule Castle was glowing.

What was happening? That golden light was unnatural, but it wasn't the malice of the Calamity!

Was it... could it be...?

Was it Princess Zelda?!

Abel fell to the ground, unable to stand any longer but equally unable to look away. He held his torso up on trembling arms, gaping at the sight before him.

It has to be her.

Goddess above. She actually did it.

She actually--

Link.

The word screamed through his mind, as if he'd forgotten him, as if he hadn't been fighting the last three days to ensure the guardians didn't get anywhere near the shrine. Yet somehow he had forgotten, somehow despite his mission his boy hadn't crossed his mind once. He'd been too focused on the objective.

Abel shot to his feet and ran. He ran so hard and so fast, the world was blurring and spinning, his head was pounding, his heart was racing.

Had the princess' power healed Link too? Could it do such a thing?

The entrance was still sealed, a nondescript gate guarding priceless treasure.

So he... wasn't ready yet. But he was safe. Link was safe.

Kotek. Moya. They weren't. They were... they were still out in the elements, still exposed, still awaiting their final rest.

He couldn't focus on any one thing and he refused to sit still. So he turned around instead. He roamed the forest to find the bodies. Used his hands and some debris and broken tools to dig graves.

As he smoothed the soil over the last of his handiwork, he looked at the castle again and saw that it was... normal again. Nondescript. Quiet. In pieces, but hard to tell from here. Shattered, but standing.

Had she died, then? Was the battle over for her too? Didn't they need both the princess and the hero?

He didn't know.

Abel walked back to the shrine. Placed his hand on the stone. Felt its coolness seep into his fingers, trickling through his bones to his arm, his shoulder, his chest, his core.

The world around him was deafening.

The silence of the night screamed. It was too quiet all of a sudden. His mind couldn't comprehend thoughts or words anymore. All he saw was the rock in front of him. All he registered was what he could touch. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against it, closing his eyes and feeling his body lurch in response, but...

But for one moment, all was still. For one moment, he could see Link, resting, healing.

Abel kissed the stone gently. Swallowed. Slid to the ground. The world turned on its side. When did he lie down?

Spots were in his vision now. Was he... was he going to die?

Did he want to die?

Feebly, he reached out to the stone again. He... he wanted...

He just wanted Link to be safe.

He knew he would be safe. It was over. The guardians were still. The Calamity quelled. The world was silent.

It... was over.

It was over.

And the silence was deafening.