#also ignore his swords i didnt have energy to properly draw them

[haunter-geist]

poorly colored sketch of heem.

[volganic]

Eyes like yours

[AO3] || [discord] guess who didnt want to write important things like the next chapter of song? or any of my other unfinished drafts? guess who wanted to write a whole new thing based off a song by shakira? it’s me

Hyrule Castle was under siege. 

In the blink of an eye, monsters and fire laid waste to the green of the undisturbed fields that surrounded the castle. It was terrifying how quickly the pace of battle moved and washed over the Hyrulean forces, but Link moved quicker. Where the other trainees stood by in the safety of the walls of the castle, Link was out in the thick of it, fighting side by side with his more seasoned captains without a second to waste. Every second counted.

It might have been his first time taking the lives of enemies, but his actions didn’t go unnoticed as he cut his way through the waves of the grotesque monsters. The general herself, Impa, took note of how he took charge of the situation; she mentally thanked the three that there was still hope in light of these rapidly darkening times. She marched over to the rookie soldier after cutting through a duo of raid captains that dared to cross her, and planted a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to thank you properly, trainee,” she began as Link turned to face her, “but the princess is farther out in the field. We need to regroup. The only thing keeping us from accomplishing that is capturing one of the enemy’s vital keeps.” The Sheikah’s eyes scanned the field, drawing the Hylian’s gaze as she pointed to closed doors on the other side of the field. “There! I don’t know what is in there, but start there and I will assist you once our men have control of the field. Understand, soldier?” 

The recruit gave a stiff nod and a salute. Impa returned the gesture. “May the goddesses smile on us all.” She turned on her heel back to aid one of their knights in the distance who was beginning to become overwhelmed with another wave of enemies. Link wished he could help there, but the entire weight of the battle weighed on his shoulders with this new task he was given. He swallowed thickly; capturing this keep could easily help them win or lose this war.

Link burst through the large doors of the abandoned fort, finding it seemingly empty. Impa said it was a vital stronghold for their assailants, but there was nothing to show for it; not even a blade of grass was out of place against the pavement. The Hylian’s senses told him to stay on high alert regardless as he inched across the stone path to the other pair of locked doors. His instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong. 

He didn’t make it too far — a sound whizzed through his ears and a heavy spear collided into the ground inches away from where he planned to take his next step. He stepped back reflexively when rocks splintered in every direction, and his sight went skyward to the source. A large shadow of a man stood on the top of the stone wall of the keep. He paced along the edge like a predator, staring down at the lone soldier below — at least, Link assumed he was staring. The glare of the sun shrouded him in darkness, making it difficult to discern certain features. 

The man lurched forward to meet the ground, and Link’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. He ignored how heavy it suddenly felt in his hands as he watched the taller man move with grace to pluck his weapon out from the cracked earth. Adrenaline flooded the Hylian’s veins now that he could fully see his enemy: his built physique, macabre armor, dragon-shaped helmet, deadly weapon in hand — everything was set to strike fear into anyone lesser. He steeled his resolve and kept his sword drawn.

The red-clad knight circled the trainee soldier like a lion. He made no movement to strike. It was intimidating how slowly he stalked around him, just waiting for an opportunity to make his move, and Link knew that he wasn’t fooling anyone with an act of bravery. The man tsk’d with an amused grin on his face, watching the blade in the boy’s hand beginning to shake. 

“They dare send only one lowly soldier to take my keep?” His low, mocking tone echoed off the walls, worming into the Hylian’s mind, taunting him. “I do not know whether to be flattered that they finally threw me a bone,” he suddenly frowned, coming to a stop in his pacing, “or insulted that they sent someone not worth my time.” 

In a fit of anger, Link blindly ran forward to strike the man down. Rage cried out of his lungs and filled the silence between them, but was replaced with a cry of pain as his side was struck with a hard kick. He crumpled to the ground and watched his only means of attack be swept out of his reach. An armored boot filled his view before it moved, finding a home placed firmly on top of his sternum. The man’s growling was the only thing Link could hear besides his own strained whimpers as he scrambled underneath his boot, his breath being crushed out of him.

“Pathetic,” the knight hissed, digging his pointed heel into the thick metal mail, trying to expose the fleshier bits of his prey’s chest. Some links of the chain gave out under the rough treatment. Pained cries fell on deaf ears. “You’re nothing but a boy playing a sad excuse for a soldier.” 

Link screwed his eyes shut, trying to collect himself with the combined force of the crushing weight on his chest and with hearing his enemy’s words. It struck a chord deep in him — he was praised highly among the rest of camp for his swordsmanship, but falling so quickly in battle drowned him in shame. It was pitiful that he wished for this stranger to kill him quickly to spare him the humiliation of returning to what would be left of the castle with his tail between his legs, not only failing his general, but all of Hyrule.

Suddenly the weight was lifted off his chest, and Link’s lungs burned with the rush of air. It was all the reprieve he was given when he was forcefully pulled up by the collar of his blue and white tunic, nearly nose-to-nose with the enemy. 

“You must be new to the ways of war,” the knight crooned. “Running headstrong into the fray without so much as a helmet.” He turned the soldier’s head from side to side with his other hand, looking him over with vague interest. “Pity, you are a pretty thing. Stupid, but pretty nonetheless.” 

Link couldn’t hear the words the man muttered under his breath. He was completely entranced with the way how the pointed tips of his eye markings moved over his cheeks with each carefully selected word. It drew his attention to eyes which he couldn’t see from a distance, but with him being so close, the Hylian could see underneath the pointed snout of the dragon-shaped helmet. If he couldn’t breathe before, he certainly wasn’t breathing now.

The man’s eyes were an even deeper black than the paint that shrouded his eyes, an expanse of a void that Link felt so lost in, but he was fixated on the way his eyes seemed to pierce through his very soul, irises swirling of emerald and gold, and even a ring of fiery red along the edges. It was unlike anything Link had ever seen before: so daunting, so primal, feral, instilling fear through his veins —

— but also leaving him awestruck in its own twisted sense of beauty.

A strangled gasp managed to worm its way out of the Hylian’s throat as he was pulled off the ground again by the neck, held an arm’s length away from the enemy. He kicked furiously at the air, the toes of his boots barely scraping against the pavement, being held higher and higher up into the air. The knight laughed cruelly at his struggle.

“I’ve wasted enough time with you, boy.” The air crackled with an energy unknown to Link. An aura of red magic covered the knight’s arm holding Link hostage, striking panic through Link as the temperature rose to a dangerous degree, the clawed gauntlet threatening to burn through his tunic and mail. Another swirl of magic caused his arm to distort into something akin to a dragon’s limb — or at least, that’s what Link could only imagine it being — and gripping the Hylian’s throat even tighter. “I’ve only come to fight worthy foes!”

If the dragon squeezed any further, it would surely kill him in an instant if he didn’t suffocate first. Adrenaline surged through him to fight for his life — have to run, get away, do something! — screaming at every one of his nerves to act. His arms slipped through the spaces between the dragon’s claws, hands desperate to scratch his way out of the other’s grip, red scales flaking off with each futile swipe. Link’s racing heart and panicked breathing filled his ears, falling deaf to the man’s threats. 

A searing pain struck across his left hand even through the leather of his glove. Link wasn’t sure if the light blinding him was a signal that he was knocking on death’s door, but whatever it was, it also blinded his assailant; its rays dared to rival those from the sun. The ground rushed to meet Link’s body as he felt himself drop to the ground again, no longer being held in a crushing choke hold or close to the heat of his enemy. Through his rattled mind and the ringing in his ears, sound slowly came back into his senses, filled only with curses and snarling from the disoriented knight on the other side of the keep.

Link sat up quickly while he had the chance and scanned the pavement for his weapon. If only he had his sword…

“You—” the man growled, rubbing any streaks of light that distorted his vision, “you can’t be!”

“Soldier!”

Quick footfalls approached the two of them, and soon enough, Impa stood between them, hand steadied on the hilt of her blade and shielding the Hylian from any more torture from the red-clad knight. Her eyes stared at their enemy with a piercing gaze, daring him to make another move. 

“Volga.”

‘Volga’ scoffed in response to being called by anything other than his full title. “I am not here to entertain you, Sheikah.” His eyes fell to the boy that lay behind her. “I may have… underestimated Hyrule’s forces. But I promise you this, I will not make the same mistake again.” With a roar and another swirl of magic, a pair of leathery wings stretched outright from Volga’s back. Impa’s stance grew tense as Volga pointed his spear at them — specifically toward Link’s direction. “You haven’t beaten me yet. Next time we meet, boy, I will cut through your shields and mount your head on a pike!”

With that decree and a beat of his large wings, Volga retreated into the sky. Embers filled the space where he had once stood, leaving Impa and Link in a keep that now belonged to Hyrule’s forces. This was the turning point of this battle, but it was far from over.

“The princess still awaits us to regroup. We haven’t won yet.” Impa turned to offer her hand, which her recruit gladly accepted. He couldn’t meet her gaze as he rushed over to where his knight’s sword had lay discarded a few feet away from them, holstering his blade back in its place, half-expecting an earful of reprimands —

Impa placed a hand on his shoulder, much to his surprise. Link tilted his head to look at her in question. The general’s hand pulled his left arm away from his side to reveal the source of the burning pain from earlier, the only thing that spared him from an premature death: the glowing mark of the Triforce on the back of his glove.

“But now that we have found you, perhaps we just might win.”

Link’s fate was now set in stone. There was only one thing that thrilled and terrified him both at the same time: coming face-to-face with Volga again.