THE LEGEND OF SIDE

QUESTS

A Legend of Zelda fanzine

The Legend of Zelda and all related characters, logos,
images, etc. are © of Nintendo®
All rights reservered to their respective owners.

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 Thank you.

This has been my very first time doing a project like this and while
there has been some challenges, I’ve enjoyed my time working on
this zine. I have gained so much experience running this that I can’t
wait to work on future projects.

We have some incredibly talented people in this project, so please

do enjoy all of their hard work! Make sure to also support all the
artists, writers and mods who had spend their valuable time for this
project. This couldn’t have been possible without them all. Thank
you for making this project a success. I couldn’t have asked for a
better group of individuals to work with.

Head Mod,
Ghirahim

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 Medicinal Molduga
by TorScrawls

Link exited the Gerudo palace with his eyes resolutely averted from the giant Divine Beast stand-
ing on the mountain in the distance. The last of the four Divine Beasts to be freed from Calamity
Ganon’s control.

Now, the beams of light connecting the Divine Beasts to Hyrule Castle and Calamity Ganon could
be seen stretching all over the land; indicating with indisputable finality where he had to go next.
Of who he had to face next.

But above all else, it was a reminder of his silent promise towards a person he couldn’t remem-
ber who was fighting where he himself had failed.

Link hesitantly started making his way down into the city, his mission of “resolving the problems
of the people in Gerudo Town” to get the Thunder Helm was a welcomed distraction as he tried to
file away the fresh memories of Thunderblight Ganon and Urbosa’s achingly unfamiliar friendli-
ness.

Despite the distraction, the mission hung over his head like a reminder of who he had been be-
fore his failure—the hero everyone seemed to think he still was. He wasn’t even sure if solving ev-
eryone’s individual problems instead of going directly to Calamity Ganon was something he should
do, but coming face to face with Urbosa made it hard to turn his back on her people in any way.

The sun beamed down from above, pressing in its heat, making Link squint in the harsh light as
he slowly took one step at a time, letting his feet carry him through town. He wasn’t completely
sure how to go about finding people who could need his help; ever since he had woken up, trouble
had had an uncanny ability of finding him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of raised voices and Link looked up to see
a Gerudo slowly walk away from the guards outside the palace with her face turned down, hand
over her mouth, and shoulders shaking. Link hesitated for a moment; who was he to butt into a
stranger’s problems? And besides, he thought with a quick look towards Vah Naboris and the beam
of light leading off into the distance, he really did have more pressing matters to attend to. A quiet
sob reached his ears.

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 Link approached the Gerudo and waved in greeting to catch her attention. She looked up at the
gesture and quickly wiped at her face with one arm. “Sav’aaq...”

Link put on what he hoped was a reassuring smile and signed, “I’m Link. What’s your name?”

“My name is Malena.”

Link tilted his head in question. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and looked down at the ground, voice thick as she answered, “I…I finally
found the voe of my dreams and I just recently married him…”

Her voice caught in her throat and she cleared it before continuing. “I thought I had finally found
happiness. But then…then my husband fell ill with a rare disease. A disease that is very difficult
to cure.” She looked back up and now the tears in her eyes were overflowing. “The only thing that
can save him is the guts of a Molduga, but I would never be able to take down such a creature
myself.”

She sent a look over her shoulder at the guards and lowered her voice. “I asked the soldiers for
help, but why would they want to help me? The Molduga is a menacing beast and no one who
faces one escapes unscathed. Perhaps it’s foolish to expect anyone to stick their neck out for a
stranger…” She trailed off and Link had a second where he almost regretted approaching her;
what could he possibly do when not even the soldiers could help? … Who else would help her if
not even the soldiers would?

“Molduga?” Link signed the word hesitantly, asking for clarification.

“The Molduga is a monster,” she said as she turned her attention back to Link, red-rimmed eyes
meeting his. “A terror so savage that even other monsters won’t approach it. It’s very sensitive to
vibrations and tends to attack anything that draws near. You can’t even approach it. So, what am I
to do…?” She trailed off again, eyes turning distant as she wrung her hands.

Link frowned. He knew he should walk away and focus his attention on Zelda and her impossi-
ble mission of defeating Calamity Ganon. He was already trying to justify sacrificing his own life
by going up against the reincarnation of all evil for the greater good. How could he be expected to
risk his life to help everyone he came across?

On the other hand; if he can’t even save one person, one person desperate for help, then what
kind of hero was he? Taking down Calamity Ganon was an insurmountable goal, something he
wasn’t even able to comprehend. This was something he might actually be able to do; a concrete
way to help someone. And who was he to place more worth on his own life than someone else’s?

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 He pushed away the feelings of guilt that rose up at the thought of leaving Zelda to fight her
lonely battle for longer than strictly necessary. In the same way that he couldn’t prioritize himself
over a stranger, he couldn’t prioritize her either. He didn’t know Zelda any better than he knew
Malena and they both needed help. One simply happened to stand right in front of him.

That was easier to grasp than the whole fate of Hyrule.

“Where is this Molduga?”

She looked surprised for a second before shrugging, her eyes turning sad again. “It’s often spot-
ted west of here in the Toruma Dunes. You can avoid it if you don’t go near there.”

Link patted her on the arm with a smile. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”

He turned towards the closest gate and shielded his eyes from the sun as he took off. Even if
it was too late to save everyone, he promised himself that he would do better with the second
chance that he had been given.

-------

The sun was a constant in his face, almost blinding him as he walked on in the sand. The land-
scape around him was vast and unchanging; prompting him time and again to look over his shoul-
der to confirm that Vah Naboris was slowly shrinking in the distance and therefore confirming that
he was making any headway at all. After an indefinite amount of time the only thing he was able
to make out as he cast a look over his shoulder was the faint glowing line connecting the Divine
Beast to Hyrule Castle and its dreaded occupant.

He cursed under his breath as he slipped in the sand for what felt like the hundredth time and he
turned his eyes back towards what was in front of him. Sand, sand, sand, and even more sa—

He almost slipped again as his eyes fastened on something in the otherwise unending landscape
of rolling dunes; something that looked surprisingly solid! He increased his pace and cursed the
fact that he hadn’t stopped to rent a Sand Seal before setting out. He took step after step in the
loose sand, trying to ignore the way it almost seemed to grab onto his feet and drag him down;
not even his sand boots were able to make it effortless.

The form he had spotted over the dunes slowly took the shape of stone pillars and he hoped that
they were the Toruma Dunes Malena had been talking about. He tried not to dwell on how he was
supposed to fight a giant monster in sand that he could barely walk in. The pillars slowly inched
closer, shimmering in the heat. He would be there soon. Just another step. And another. And an-
other.

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 The monotone was suddenly broken by a rumbling sound and Link stopped in the middle of a
step. He looked out over the unending expanse of sand and saw nothing worth noting except the
pillars right in front of him. Had the sun gotten to his head? He started walking again as he shook
his head before taking a hasty sip from his water bottle.

His body was the one thing he had always been able to trust since he woke up and the thought
of it betraying him filled him with cold fear that almost combated the heat of the day. Maybe his
attempts to stay cool hadn’t been enough. Maybe he shouldn’t have offered to help with this. May-
be this was Hylia punishing him for shirking his duties. Maybe—

His thoughts were interrupted by the sand to his left suddenly rising up into a big mound; mov-
ing at a fast pace in his direction.

Link froze again.

Was it a hallucination? A sign of his body finally giving up? Link shook his head again in an at-
tempt to clear it. The mound in the sand was still there but Link noticed that it had started to veer
off—moving away from him.

Link took a small step towards the stone pillars and watched in horror as the mound immediate-
ly changed direction again; coming straight towards him. Maybe not a hallucination then.

He took off for the closest stone pillar, wanting to get up and away from whatever was moving in
the sand.

Link took a running leap, grunted as he slammed into the stone, and started climbing. He hadn’t
even gotten to the top of the pillar when a sudden, deafening, rumble sounded out behind him.
Link whipped his head around to look over his shoulder and almost lost his grip on the rock be-
neath his hands as he tried to take in the sheer size of the creature that had heaved itself out of
the ground a few meters away from him; right where he had been mere seconds ago.

The Molduga broke completely free from the ground and snapped at nothing; its massive jaws
closing with a decidedly final sound.

It was all Link could do to hang on to the side of the stone pillar. How in Hylia name was he
supposed to fight that? None of the mental images he had conjured of what the Molduga would
look like after Malena’s description managed to come close to the real thing. The guards had been
right; one person could not be expected to fight a monster like this and he was just a regular per-
son, no matter how much everyone tried to tell him otherwise.

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 The monster twisted in the air and dove back down; the impact of it hitting the ground shook
the very earth even as it dove beneath the sand without much effort.

Link thought of the trail of light leading to Calamity Ganon, the trail of light from his past fail-
ures. He had to try.

Link sucked in a deep breath and heaved himself up to the top of the pillar, immediately grab-
bing for his bow and sending an arrow flying. It hit the Molduga’s tail just as it was disappearing
back into the sand. It didn’t seem to faze the creature at all.

He followed the moving sand with his eyes, squinting against the sun. Link’s hand around his
bow tightened. Defeating the Molduga was a step towards defeating Calamity Ganon—a step to-
wards becoming the hero people needed.

He considered his options; if he went down into the sand he would be easy prey for the giant
monster but if he stayed up here he couldn’t reach it… Hadn’t Malena said something about the
beast being sensitive to vibrations? Link raised his bow and readied a bomb arrow. He knew how
to make vibrations.

He aimed at the moving mound and let the arrow fly. It struck true; flinging sand high into the
air, but even so there was no sign of the monster. Until there was.

The Molduga roared as it heaved its giant form from the sand once again and blindly snapped at
the air. Link didn’t allow himself to hesitate before jumping from the pillar and unfurling his para-
glider, keeping his eyes the monster. Its small peering eyes glazed over him where he hung in the
air.

Link immediately nocked another bomb arrow and let it fly; desperate for the sightless, soulless,
eyes to not find him. He fired off as many as he could before one of them hit the Molduga square
in the side and he noticed that the wind had brought him closer to the creature than he had ex-
pected—

Too close! The explosion flung him backwards and he landed in the sand with a dull thud. Link
rolled to the side and managed to narrowly avoid getting pummeled into the ground; the monsters
massive tail thumping down where he had been lying with enough force to produce a small explo-
sion of sand.

He shook himself and scrambled to his feet, but to his relief he saw the Molduga lying still on the
sand, the perceived attack with its tail being from when it landed, seemingly stunned. Link hesi-
tated a second before taking a step towards the monster. One step. Then he ran, raising the master
sword high and getting ready to strike.

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 Before Link reached it, however, the Molduga started moving. It raised its tail slightly, before
spinning its massive body in a devastating circle; its tail hitting Link square in the chest and send-
ing him flying.

He spat the sand from his mouth and raised his head in time to see the Molduga burrow back
down into the sand. He shakily got to his feet and winced at his complaining ribs. That was going
to bruise.

Link took as deep of a breath as he could before throwing a bomb, watching as it rolled across
the ground and the Molduga made a sharp turn straight towards it. Link ran in the opposite direc-
tion.

It once again rose up from beneath the sand, swallowing the bomb whole.

Link pressed detonate and the monster roared. Okay, maybe he could fight it like that.

The beast once again landed on top of the sand with a heavy thud.

He reached for another bomb arrow but found his holster empty. Link cursed internally as he let
go of the bow, letting it fall to the sand as he reached for the master sword.

The creature twitched where it lay.

Link didn’t waste any time before running towards it with his sword at the ready, ignoring his
aching body. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. If there was something he had learnt
since waking up it was that to survive he had to be a fast learner. His earlier mistakes had almost
doomed this land, he couldn’t afford to make any more of them.

Link grabbed the master sword with both hands and jumped.

He allowed the force of gravity to aid him as he took a steady hold of the sword and aimed it
straight down. He plunged down just as the creature righted itself—if he missed he would have no
way of defending himself.

It struck true; piercing the creature right between its eyes. Link jumped backwards, raising his
sword in front of him.

The Molduga slumped to the ground with a heavy thud before rearing up again; letting out a ter-
rifying and deafening roar. Link did his best to steady his exhausted arms and prepare for another
attack—but the monster simply slumped back down to the ground before dissolving into purple
smoke, leaving the dessert quiet and still.

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 Left in its place was a treasure chest, fins, and…guts! Link took a step towards the loot and
dropped to his knees; his shaking legs not able to support him any longer. He heaved in painful
gasps of air as he inched closer to what remained of the massive monster and felt a smile spread
over his face. He had done it. He had managed to defeat the monster—he had managed to fulfill
one wish.

He scooped up the spoils and got to his feet and for the first time he didn’t feel dread as his eyes
found the beam of light extending from Vah Naboris, but hope. Maybe he would actually be able
to do this after all.

---------

The trip back to Gerudo town felt shorter and easier than his trek out, even with the extra mate-
rials. Thankfully his healing potion had done wonders on his ribs and his tired legs seemed to find
purchase in the sand as he pushed forward; the dwindling sun shining on his back and casting a
long shadow for him to follow. The beam from Vah Naboris almost disappeared in the light of the
setting sun. He still knew where it led.

As he entered the town he went straight for the palace. He found Malena by herself, standing
close to where the guards trained.

“Sav’aaq...” Malena said as she turned around, her eyes widening slightly in recognition when
they landed on Link’s smiling face. “Oh, it’s you.”

Link smiled as he extended his hands. “Here, take’em.”

“Wait, these…” She trailed off, wide eyes looking down at the intestines in Links hands. “Moldu-
ga guts!”

She raised her hands as if to grab them before stopping a few centimeters away, looking back up
at Link’s face. “You…You’ll really give these to me?”

Link nodded.

“Oh, sarqso!” Malena took the offered Molduga guts with relief written all across her face, a
smile breaking through on her face. Link felt something ease inside him. The relief and happiness
on her face was right. This was what it meant to really fight back against the evil.

“This is all I have to thank you with.” She extended her hand with a golden rupee in it and Link
raised his hands in front of his chest in the beginning of a denial, but she simply pressed the mon-
ey into his palms and smiled. “I insist you take it.”

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 Link hesitantly smiled back as he accepted the rupee, closing his hand around her gratitude and
relief. She smiled back and clutched the remnants of the molduga close to her chest; tears brim-
ming in her eyes. “This will save him.”

Link gave her a nod and smile before Malena turned and took off down the street, her arms
never letting up on their secure hold. He had managed to save someone and he was still here to
do it again. This must be what it meant to be a hero; to save someone when you had the ability to
do so. Link swore then and there that even if his mindset wasn’t always the most heroic he could
make sure that his actions were something he could stand behind.

As Link once again set off into the town he didn’t spare the distant beast and its connection to
Calamity Ganon another glance. He would do what he could to help and to try and be the hero
people counted on, but he would not run from what he had to do. The last rays from the sun
warmed his face as he resolutely took one step at a time.

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 Fairy Boy
by Fallowfield

The summer always rolled around again, lolling, drunk with sunset cocktails. There had never
been anything like it. The fields let their flowers fall, browning in the baking heat. Malon always
laughed because the horses would eat it in bunches, blossoms spilling out of their mouths. She had
always spent the long afternoons humming to them and watching the dandelion seeds drift away.

But now as each year passed, she knew a bittersweet taste. The horses still nuzzled her hair and
she braided blossoms into their manes, but her heart felt miles away. The sun didn’t even seem to
shine as bright. A gray haze, alien from the warm fog of summer, fell upon the ranch. It made her
no longer want to stay outside, even with her beloved horses.

The real magic still came at night, though, when the moon blew kisses down at her. The fireflies
floated, lazy, lighting and relighting their lanterns in the dusk. She remembered when she was
there, butterfly net in hand, ready to catch one for her jar. She’d always searched the lights. Tried
to talk to them. Could it be real? A talking firefly? But more than anything she wanted it to be
real.

Could it have been a dream? That boy she’d seen that summer. It seemed forever ago by now.
Angel hair, fluttering hands. He didn’t say any words, but his eyes were somehow deafening. What
could his secrets be? He was such an anomaly, standing there, like a different painter had drawn
him into her portrait. There was something about being the only kid around. She’d felt an instant
connection to him. And it seemed like he didn’t know many other kids either. He’d approached her
so cautiously, almost in awe, even though he lacked grace the rest of the time.

But then he just disappeared like that. Stopped coming around altogether. He was like the dan-
delion seeds, tumbling away and landing somewhere she couldn’t see. Once again she was the
only kid around for miles, and she played alone in the field with the horses. Something in her
throat fluttered when she thought of him. She wondered if posting fairy lights would help bring
him back. What color would he like? Green, probably. Anyway, it made the barn prettier. And the
horses liked it.

Malon wasn’t one to depend too much on others or to expect too much of one person. Her dad
was so hit and miss, anyway. But something in her heart drifted when she thought of him. There
was such an instant connection, even though they didn’t talk much. It awakened in her, how when
she was so young she always dreamt of her wedding.

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 She’d always been on the arm of a faceless boy, but she knew he was handsome. A boy with
warm hands, and she would knit together clover blossoms and lay them over his head. For some
reason she dreamt again, this time with his stoic, birdlike face. The king and queen, kissed by fairy
lights. But it could only be in the haze of the summer.

It was the same comforting feeling as as when she dreamt of her mother. She never knew her,
but she was the early sunlight in the summer. Someone so warm. Someone so gentle and yet so
sure. Could that ever be her? Yellow light through billowing drapes.

The rains always came, though, no word, time for autumn again. The horses didn’t have to swat
their tails anymore. Something about the magic melted, the bas relief of frost coming in the morn-
ings. The haze dissipated and the air grew crisp. It didn’t stop the hope, though. Every time she
heard a sound she would peek out the window, or even venture outside, much to the horror of her
father.

“Malon, don’t go outside at night,” he’d mumbled, trying to fight his evening drowsiness. “Some
of those critters get past the fence.”

“But Dad! The fairy boy will keep them out! He has a sword!” Malon had frowned and crossed
her arms. They had the same conversation every night. It wasn’t like he was going to be able to
stop her. Lately he’d gone to bed right after dinner.

“A sword. Right.” He rolled his eyes. He could never counter Malon’s imagination. Was it really
that boy he’d seen or was she dreaming of fae? “I jus’ don’t want to see you getting hurt.” But the
sleep was already advancing.

Then Malon would stand, hands on her hips, in the doorway. She didn’t have to sneak out any
windows. Her dad wouldn’t wake until dawn. She ventured out often, but she never saw him
again. Maybe that’s all he was, a dream, but Malon was one to never give up. It was a constant,
her venturing out, but returning empty handed. She played the hero in a storybook. But didn’t
heroes ever get lonely?

She’d always loved her home, but it was isolated from the rest of the world. She only could es-
cape in books. As she grew older, it weighed on her shoulders. Her dad had stopped even getting
newspapers, even. There was a castle over yonder, and she dreamed of the city. One day she’d go
there, but this time, her hair braided and piled up on her head. Parades, coronations, all the dress-
es they must have! She wouldn’t be limited to riding along in the milk cart. She knew they drove
by exciting nights and extravagant galas, just beyond thin walls. Those ladies never took a single
look at her, even when they were outside.

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 It was a world away. But she looked up at the moon. They’d all be looking up at the same one.
She, the boy, and the people of the city. But maybe they were too busy to see it. Did they ever
venture outside those walls? Maybe not. So she thought of the fairy boy. He didn’t turn his nose up
like they did, pulled out of the same earth she was.

Don’t all heroes want to settle down into a quiet life? Don’t they get weary of the spotlight? Es-
pecially those who don’t speak. The glamour appealed to her, but as she grew up, deep down, she
knew she would miss the ranch. The horses always tugged at her heart, even if she was only gone
for a moment.

Over time, though, the moon shone less and less brightly, and she left less and less. The years
passed, the sky growing greyer and greyer, like slowly lowering her eyelids. It had all turned to
Babylon. Malon has tried her fiercest sigh, but it hadn’t helped.

Nowadays, she would sleep in the barn, surrounded by warm summer sounds. Her dad was
gone, and the empty house sent shivers down her spine. Stepping outside felt like she was sub-
merged, at the bottom of the ocean. There weren’t even fireflies anymore. The horses flashed the
whites of their eyes now. It must have been Ingo. Hopefully. She’d never seen them so shaken up.
Something made the spectre of something larger and scarier seem like the answer, but she quickly
shook it out of her thoughts. So she’d made her bed in the barn, close to them so they wouldn’t be
spooked. They were her only family here now, anyway.

Malon woke up, straw in her hair. The night was always an orchestra here: cicada song, the
chorus of crickets, the screeching of birds. She’d learned to tune it out. But the noise tonight was
unbearable. What could it be? Ingo was too scared to investigate, she imagined.

So she stood up, brushing off her skirt, and peeked out the barn door. The sky was grey and
thick, and the ranch seemed alone in space, except for the huge dark shape blotting out the moon.
It was moving. A huge animal? Malon’s chest tightened in fear as she stepped out and peered as
hard as she could.

What was it doing? Malon was never one to shy away when she was afraid. Even as a little girl
she would barge right outside. Oh, someone was there, and that’s why the monster was so unset-
tled. It couldn’t be Ingo. He’d be too scared of such a creature.

So who was it? She slid along the wall of the barn to get a closer look. A boy about her age.
Blond hair. Not Ingo at all. He was standing, stoic, making calculated swipes at his attacker. Some-
thing seemed vaguely familiar about him.

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 It was the largest Guay she’d ever seen. By far. This one was about fifty times the size. But maybe
it was still a mother protecting her nest.

She pulled out her ocarina, and the song echoed across the pasture. The boy paused and looked
in her direction. There was a flash of surprised understanding in his eyes. Here she was, the de-
nouement.

“Hey, Fairy Boy!”

Epona was sprinting at breakneck speed. Before he could register what was happening, Malon
launched herself off her back, holding a fencepost. The boy looked shocked, more than anything
else.

He saw a flash of a daylily, marigold as she flew and struck the Guay between the eyes. It was as
if they were in a storybook, thrumming orchestral and slow motion.

It was clear that was all she planned for. This storybook apparently still adhered to Newton.
Once the bird was scared away, more from the surprise than anything, her descent wasn’t as grace-
ful as her rise. Instead of a bloom she was a tumbling autumn leaf. Maybe in her past life she had
wings and fought the jaguars. But now, her wings eaten, she was just Malon. She threw the fen-
cepost aside and squeezed her eyes shut as she fell.

The fairy boy’s pale eyes were beams of light, frozen in shock for a moment, until he dropped his
sword to the ground so he could catch her with both hands.

Then there was impact, and she knew she almost knocked him over. Malon held her breath for a
moment, not sure what had happened. His hands felt warmer than she expected. He wasn’t some
statue. He wasn’t some cold caped prince. Wait. His hands? She opened her eyes.

The twirl of her skirt seemed to awaken a few fireflies, and they flew around dizzily, reflecting in
his eyes. She knew for sure it was him now.

“Fairy boy.” She couldn’t stop the smile. “I thought there was nothing like you left.” The world
had become so barren, ruins of its magical past. But here he was, full of colour, awkwardly holding
her between his arms. In fact, he was shaking. Maybe he didn’t grow into a muscle-bound warrior.
Malon thought he was cute regardless. Maybe her prayers to the fading stars had reached them.

Her talkative nature emerged. “I’ve never seen one that big. But she seemed to be acting like she
was protecting her nest.”

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 The boy remained wordless. He seemed to be waiting for her word to put her down. She wasn’t
in a hurry, though. She liked the romance of it, and she threw her arms around his neck. The fairy,
however, just sputtering and zipping around, speaking erratically.

Epona had turned around, and trotted back to put her muzzle in his hair. Malon lifted her hand
to pet her face. “She remembers you! Oh my goodness, she must have just been a baby then.” Epo-
na had always been so shy. This boy must have a calm and gentle spirit. She was filled with hope
that she hadn’t had in a long time. The world seemed devoid of heroes, but maybe there were
some, and maybe not those she thought. Or at least, those wouldn’t be alone.

Is it time to wax storybook ending? Were they tangled in the threads of fate? Were they
starcrossed lovers? It’s hard to know. Is he here to sweep her off her feet? It isn’t that simple. But
instead, maybe she could be that knight. The story wasn’t even done yet. She’d always been the
brave one, anyway. Did she have to wait for the fireflies? Or could she become one?

21
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 By Firefly’s Light
by Kirimizi

The groggy adventurer was gently awoken to the warm light of the pre-dawn sun. The orange
light made its way through the open doorways and pushed Link to get up from what only felt like
a nap. He stretched and began to make his way out of the stable’s warm inn, gathering up the
minor weaponry that laid about the outer stables to keep on his person. A stable girl gifted him
an old sword with rust on each end of the blade, out of sincere thought, as well as worried for his
well-being. As he went off down the path, he followed the signs and mountain ranges in the dis-
tance, setting off for Kakariko Village.

The path seemed to be paved in gold, with the warmth of the incoming morning light hitting the
back of his shirt and illuminating the remainder of the way. In this instance, Link couldn’t help but
smile after a short yawn. If this was the land he would be saving, he did not mind it thus far. The
people were kind and the land something ethereal. The slight weight on his shoulders being that
evidence; his bag full of fresh grains and fruits, and even a sword to defend himself.

Hyrule truly was a wonderful land.

While he walked, a few wild horses roamed free among the debris of broken guardian bits scat-
tered in the distance from the stable. Within a few more steps, he could see a stone bridge covered
by aged moss and cracks in between large pieces of rocks. This land seemed all too familiar to the
wanderer.

A distant scream caught the adventurer’s attention immediately. Without thinking, he began to
sprint towards the origin of the sound, weapon ready in hand. His instinct told him to cross the
bridge and run towards the small forest next to the path. The greenery upon the shade of the
mountains was more a blur though as he made eye contact with a red creature that had cornered
two young lady travelers against the trunk of a tree. With no thought in mind, Link took a running
start on the bokoblin as it took notice of him.

But it was too late for the monster to properly react, or so he thought. The bokoblin swung its
spiked club at him, whereas he instantly ducked underneath the attack. Link swung the rusty
sword as he parried to the right, slicing through the demon spawn with one swift movement. The
monster collapsed quickly and disintegrated into dust once it made contact with the spotty grass
beneath them.

25
 The girls were clad in travelers clothes, each with a backpack and shields attached to each of
their bags. The two girls looked up at Link in absolute awe. The first girl gave a quick bow to Link
before running off into the sea of hills. The second merely smiled as she followed behind her sister.

A strange but fulfilling emotion tickled the inside of Link’s chest as the two girls left his line of
sight. He was just happy he was there in time to help. The adventurer continued quietly on his
path to wherever the sign prior had pointed. Lucky for him, the quick sprint had been exactly in
the right direction.

Following the strange path along the mountain, he found a sense of solace in the surrounding
area. Birds flew over him towards the fleeting sun’s rays, singing and tweeting as they passed. The
sun peeked at its noontime glory as the time began to quicken through the day. Beneath his boots,
the path started to wear off becoming only grass. By the time Link had noticed, he took a moment
to assess his whereabouts. The path he followed let him to a one way trail. And yet, the large
chunks of what seemed like rock covered both sides of it, leading on a slow but obvious curve.
What might have been at the end of that curve, Link did not know. Still, he knew he had no choice
but to find out.

His break was short-lived but restful nonetheless. He could hear the strange sounds starting to
carry through the valley. The music drew closer as Link approached a wooden arch, where a deco-
rative eye in the very point of the structure was covered with arrows. The village was finally with-
in his reach. A few more minutes of walking and he found himself wide-eyed at what he saw.

The village was nestled inside the mountain range! Each and every part of the small town was
home to mass amounts of beautiful scenery, from blooming plum trees to carefully maintained
farm land. Sounds of birds chirping filled the air, people scattered in each and every part of the
village.

As Link slowly made his way into the hidden area, he came to realize evening was just around
the corner. The sky, what was visible of it, seemed to be shifting into a sunset. Reaching the bot-
tom of the hill, two guards caught his eye. Both were dressed in heavy attire on the outside of
their robes, guarding the entranceway to a house high up on a hill, surrounded by a body of water.

Link decided maybe it was best to stay away from there for the time being.

He walked down the path and found shops lined up on either side of the road. One of which did
not hesitate to pull in passerby’s. A woman standing outside of a clothing & armor shop noticed
the disgruntled traveler and waved him down to come over to her. Hesitantly, he walked over and
she squealed with joy.

26
 “We have cute clothes! You look like you need a wardrobe refresher anyways!” The lady suddenly
gripped his arm and dragged him into the shop, shutting the door behind them before Link could
say anything about it.

“Welcome!” The woman hopped behind the counter in her shop and gleefully showed off her
wares with a wave of her hand. “I have an assortment of sets as you can see, but my most popular
item is the Sheikah gear! It’s a soldier’s uniform and is considered a formal wear in our village,”
She smiled and leaned over the counter this time. “It will look great on you! Don’t deny yourself
the pleasure of looking this fabulous!”

Link gave in to her spiel and bought the outfit as a set, but due to the need for new clothes. She
happily took the rupees from his hand and directed him to the stores changing room. Within a few
moments, the woman watched as Link left the dressing room. Her eyes widened and her cheeks
seemed to have gained a bit of color on them as she watched him walk out in all Sheikah clothes.
However, he struggled with putting his hair back up so the long dirty blonde strands fell all around
down to his shoulders.

“Why don’t you let me help with that?” The shopkeeper moved from behind the counter and
took some pieces of fabric with her from a drawer. She spent a few minutes fiddling around with
his hair before finishing the updo off with a set of finely made chopsticks she took off the nearby
shelf. She moved him towards one of the full length mirrors in the back and while he took in the
feeling of the new clothes, noticed her fumbling with his hair before sliding the bamboo chopsticks
into his hair.

“Now you really look like one of us.” She smiled looking into his mirrored reflection. Link
couldn’t help but smile back. It’s been so long since he had the feeling of fresh clothes sit on his
skin, that he forgot what it felt like.
“Ah! I never introduced myself, my name is Lasli!”
Link turned to her and smiled, beaming with a new sense of pride brought about by his new
clothes.

“I’m assuming by your lack of expertise on our lovely village that this is your first time visiting?”
She asked, focusing in on the loud, communicative grumbles coming from both their stomachs.
Link nodded profusely, ignoring the noises.
“Does that mean you’ve never had our famous curry?”
He shook his head in response. Lasli gasped and clapped her hands hard on her cheeks.
“We have to change that right away!”

Lasli scurried to the door and signaled to Link to follow her as if his life depended on it. He did
as he was told, and stepped out of the shop to the bottom of the wooden stairs that descended
from where she stood as she locked up her shop early for lunchtime.

27
 With one last click of her key, she fixed her hair with a few taps, and grabbed Link’s hand once
more.
“I promise, you will love it!”

The two of them raced off to an outside sitting area and ate for lunch, talking amongst them-
selves for what seemed like a half hour. The afternoon light seemed ready to fleet the sky by the
time either of them realized the time.
“Oh my,” Lasli’s face suddenly dropped to a much more sad expression, as Link took notice. She
looked at the kind adventurer and sighed heavily. “I’m expected to be home before dark, since the
roads have been so dangerous these past few nights.”

Link tilted his head in wonder, unsure what could possibly be dangerous about the roads in this
village especially. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help notice her bright demeanor fell instantly. But his
gawking was interrupted by the young lady getting up from her seat and giving him a subtle smile.

“It was nice to meet you, but it seems our time has to be cut short.” She bowed and promptly
led the young man to her home, just up the hill she worked on. With a quick slide of the door,
the house was revealed inside as a beautiful wood cabin, decorated inside with small relics that
seemed native to her Sheikah heritage. As Lasli sat down on her bed, she stretched out her arms
and legs, but had the most intense scowl on her face.

The scowl turned into a pout as she sighed. “They say the roads are dangerous at night, so I
have to come straight home without searching for my favorite fireflies…” Her eyes almost lovingly
stared out the open front door, gazing at whatever she could take in from the small view.

“I miss them so much. And the night sky… Now it’s the same tired thing every night. I’m so sick
of it…” She shook her head and plopped down flat onto her bed. A long drawn out sigh left her
body, leaving Link to wonder if she would be okay.

“If only the fireflies would come to play here so I could still see them…” She muttered to herself.
Link pondered for a moment if he could pull off what might be the strangest quest he’s done so far.
He promptly left the small building and made his way around the quiet village. His first instinct
was to hunt for the little bugs and make this girl’s night a little less dreary than it has been for the
past few nights.

At first glance, he followed the path downhill and walked into a garden area, where there sat
multitudes of leaflets sticking out from the freshly raked soil. Once he made it through there, he
attempted to catch one of the many fireflies flying about the area. With a clap of his hands, most
managed to scatter away, causing Link to sigh heavily, annoyed at the result. He needed to be
more stealthy than this.

28
 Link cracked his knuckles and readjusted his neck scarf, stretching out and preparing for his next
battle amongst the light bugs. He took a deep breath and crouched down, sneaking his way into
the brush where the little bugs floated lazily against the night sky. He paused for a moment, find-
ing himself in awe of the view above him.

Link suddenly understood Lasli’s infatuation with wanting to see this view. He would not falter
in his dedication to performing this task. He snuck into a random garden where the small bugs
reconvened and slowly approached them, cupping his hand around a particularly bright one and
then with a clap of his hands, the bug was caught.

A small victory among the rest. Link smiled and continued to use this new technique to catch as
many fireflies as he could for the sweet shopkeeper. After about five more or so of these elusive lit-
tle bugs, he stashed them away into a ventilated jar in his bag and made his way back to the house
up the steep hill.

The walk was refreshing. Just as the sky beamed with many dots of light among its canvas, Link
could not help but lose himself in the view once more, his eye dazing over the comfort of the gen-
tle night. Even with as little memories as he had, he decided it wouldn’t be so bad to make more.
It was times like these that he wished there was more for him to do. The soft breeze fell into the
coursing dark, bringing with it the soft clattering of the red wind chimes and swaying the many
lanterns that decorated the village.

Link approached Lasli’s house and gently tapped at the door. A small figure peeked through the
semi open door before she opened it fully.
“What are you doing here? It’s dangerous to go alone this late in the night,” Lasli said with a soft
whisper before urging him to come in.

“I oughta lecture you, do you have any idea how late it is?” She sat back onto her bed and
yawned, groggy as though she hadn’t slept for ages. Link opened his bag and took out the jar of
fireflies from it, watching Lasli’s eyes widen in excitement as he popped open the lid. They began
to fly around the room, eventually finding their way to where Lasli sat.

“Oh! Look at all those fireflies!” She exclaimed, hopping up from her bed. Lasli reaches her hand
out to touch one, watching the light from its chest gently flutter. Her eyes raced from each firefly
to Link, who stood proudly near the door.
“Their glow is so pretty, it’s almost magical…”

Link reached out his hand towards one of the fireflies, watching it land on his hand for a brief
moment before it flew to the other side of the room. It was times like this that made his harsh des-
tiny worth it, for the sake of the people around him.

29
 It wouldn’t always be easy, or beneath a flawless night sky. Link knew this all too well from his
prior experience, as small memories told him when they came back each day. Nor would people
always be as thankful. But no matter what, his duty would never falter. Helping others directly or
indirectly, with issues big or small, that was his true destiny.

It was in this moment that Link knew his efforts would always worth the fight.

30
31
32
 Cabana Deed
by lesboinspace

The people of Windfall Island are basking in the glories of a perfect day. The sky couldn’t be
more blue. It’s calm and cloudless, almost as if to paint a sole shade of sea across its vast canvas.
The ocean aims to mirror its peer in serenity; it too is at peace today. Waves gleam like a gem un-
der the sun’s smile: water turned sapphire, it sparkles. The waves wave at onlookers who drink in
the sight of a sublime sky and sea, each set of awestruck eyes knowing full well that they’re wit-
nessing a seemingly crafted masterpiece.

Every roll of the water mimics a princess’ finesse when people pass by: resolute, benevolent and
refined. The gentle ripples are an equivalent of answered prayers from a surely confirmed, com-
passionate deity looking out for docking and parting ships. They’re comparable to treasure chests
overflowing with riches that certain adventurous souls voyage on the waters for to begin with.

Sailors rejoice at this rare generosity; wooden vessels glide across the soft skin of the ominous,
unknown depths as they would if traveling in the air. Large, clunky boats are made into the most
elegant of dancers, waltzing about the splashing ballroom.

For an eager, at the ready hero, this is less than ideal. Such calm days are dull, dragging on until
the sun finally decides to sink below the horizon and sleep. A young Link is the hero of this world
and story. His youthful pride slows the speed of time on days like this. He’d arrived the other day,
yet over twenty four hours have gone by since and not a soul on this dull floating mass has asked
for or needed his assistance.

Link checked by offering his heroic services to every face he came across. He then entered every
building in his path, but after being told to leave several homes and businesses, politely or oth-
erwise, he had no choice but to accept defeat. Absolutely nothing is ary, not a disgruntled local
on the entire island. Link hates it. There’s nothing to do, no one to aid, save or run errands for.
Everything is just peachy, much to his annoyance.

Not that he necessarily wants someone to be hurt or in danger. Link isn’t that selfish to wish
pain and trauma onto an ordinary, innocent soul just so he has a way to pass the time. Neverthe-
less, Link has become accustomed to the feeling of being needed and consequently admired by
victims of assault or laziness.

33
 The constant bombardment of quests from all sorts of needy, wailing strangers has left him used
to scampering about. A calm day means less fun for a hero, especially one so young; boisterous
and itching for a fight, or at least plants to pluck. Is that really a lot to ask for?

The blonde’s frown deepens at the thought. He’s so bored that gardening sounds like an excit-
ing feat. Bubbles of frustration rise further in Link’s gut, strengthening and swirling into a nihil-
istic whirlpool. Link narrows his eyes at a small stone in his path before toeing it out of the way.
Instead of rolling to the side, the treacherous pebble is merely launched further in front of him,
awaiting Link yet again.

A growl lingers within the hero’s throat, mature enough to restrain himself from trying to threat-
en a rock. Still, he can’t help the baring of his teeth. He kicks the stubborn stone forward, though
this time it’s intentional. Link does so again and again and again, punishing it for its defiance
and mockery. The puny pebble should’ve gotten out of his way in the first place rather than taunt
him…

The hero refuses to acknowledge how much his boredom is feeding his need for vengeance
against a rock. Link’s a hero after all. He knows better than most about the importance of justice,
and right now Link deserves justice! With a sense of finality, Link curls his leg back, winding up
before kicking the pebble hard as he can. It flies through the air and cracks against a building’s
stone exterior. A satisfied smirk tugs at his lips. This is the most entertainment he’s had all day.

Only when he takes several moments to gloat does the hero realize he’s not familiar with his sur-
roundings. He’d hung his head low, gaze set on the ground, back hunched as Link stomped along
the dirt, adamant on glaring every so often at the shining sun. His insistent desire to mope about
landed him in an area he’s yet to explore. Link isn’t even sure which side of the island he’s on.

Stepping up to the building, Link picks up the abused pebble and stares at it. He twirls the stone
between his fingers in thought, as if analyzing it for long enough will cause it to voice his location.
Concluding that he’s not going to gather any answers that way, Link shifts his gaze to the building
he struck, spotting a sign near the door: a less than great painting of a woman with pink hair next
to the declaration that this is a school. He’s not sure why, but the woman strikes him as someone
who’d own a lot of cats...

“Nice try, pal. Leave vandalism to the professionals, alright?” Unable to hear the boy, Link con-
tinues to gaze at the sign. Unfortunately for the hero, this particular boy doesn’t like being ig-
nored, so he chucks a rock at the building in Link’s view. Startled, Link’s hold on his stone releas-
es, which gets a snort from the thrower.

34
 He turns to find four boys poking at the ground with sticks, etching crude drawings into the
dirt alongside profanities. Glancing between the children and the schoolhouse, Link sucks in a
deep breath. Link’s arm shoots up to rub at his neck, worry seeping in at how he’ll be received to
these...delightful children.

“What do you want, gnome boy?” Hands twitch, ready to sign, but Link hesitates. His eyes dart
back and forth until he spots another stick lying unused. Link picks it up, pointing at the kids then
swinging it towards the school again and again. He hopes his message is clear enough, but when
he receives deadpan expressions in response, Link smacks his forehead. After a moment of think-
ing, Link scribbles the kids’ faces in the dirt, smiling next to a drawing of the pink haired woman
speaking in front of a board. He then adds a question mark for good measure.

When Link looks up, he’s met with scowls. “You askin’ why we aren’t in school?” Link nods
fervently after reading the boy’s lips. Proud of himself, he throws a fist into the air at the small
victory. It’s short lived, for the boy prods at Link’s chest with his own stick, ignoring the concept of
personal space as he glares up at the hero. “That’s none of your business, bub! Besides, you can’t
be that much older than us. Why aren’t you wasting away in a rotten, good for nothing classroom
right now?”

Touché. Link’s blank stare is answer enough for the snide child, who pulls back with his hands
on his hips. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now beat it or else I’ll go to class just to tell Mrs. Marie
on your sorry behind. Then you’ll suffer like the lot of us, listening to her drone on about being
respectful and a goodie goodie and all that garbage.”

With that, the boy turns his back to Link, rejoining the three other kids. Link nibbles on his bot-
tom lip as he watches them mill about. His attention drawn back to the schoolhouse, a new mis-
sion set for himself. Surely this Marie teacher lady can help them.

“Hello there, young man! How can I help you on this lovely day?” Before Link can even consid-
er whether he should sign to her or find some other way to communicate, the very colorful woman
continues. “I know I may look a tad flashy for a teacher, but I assure you that I am one. I founded
this schoolhouse, what, twenty years ago?” She brings a finger to her lip, fascinated by her own
contemplations. It’s only when her eyes drift back down to Link does she return to reality.

“Come to think of it, why haven’t I seen you before at one of my lessons, child? You’ve been
missing out!” At a loss, Link scratches his head. The urge to sign flares within him, but since no
one on the island has yet to display an understanding of his communication method, Link has
given up using it here. He taps his foot, then decides to pull out his sword, swinging it about for
a few seconds. After sheathing it, Link motions to his outfit, hoping that it conveys something to
her.

35
 “I see, you’re an adventurer, or maybe a hero? A bit of both, perhaps?” Link gleams up at the
teacher, offering her a thumbs up. She claps her hands together, seemingly just as ecstatic as the
hero for her correct answer to this little game. “My, how remarkable! You and I are alike then. I
too do my part by spreading the knowledge of true joy to the youth of this island. I try my best to,
at least,” Mrs. Marie’s bright smile begins to fade, “but my efforts to sway a few particular children
have been joyless indeed. No matter what I do, these four delinquents never listen to me.”

The melancholy aura emanating from her frown and lowered frame give way to flames of frus-
tration. Her posture straightens to the point of pain, a fire ignited in the teacher’s eyes as her fists
clench. “I hold class, hoping that they’ll finally show up, but my patience has yet to be reward-
ed. Why would these boys turn away the joy I’m offering their hearts?” Applauded by the burst
of emotion, the hero falls back a step. Although, Link relaxes soon as she does, the brief release
enough to return her to her senses.

Mrs. Marie rubs her face, exhausted. “Could you please catch Ivan and knock some sense into
him on my behalf? He’s the leader of that dreadful gang, the Killer Bees, as they like to call them-
selves. Please, I’m at my wit’s end at how to deal with them.” Link too drags a hand across his
jaw, already baffled with this predicament. After all, he came in here to seek Mrs. Marie’s aid, but
even someone so experienced, kind and passionate is unsure of what to do.

A small smile tugs at Link’s lips as he gives her another thumbs up: challenge accepted. “Thank
you very much! Surely they’ll listen to a peer, and a hero at that! Good luck then, young man.”
With a tip of his cap, Link strolls out the door. He’s finally found something to do today, and he’s
determined to aid the meandering miscreants and the poor woman who’s tried so hard to help
them. How hard can it really be for a hero to get through to a bunch of kids?

Link faces retaliation soon as he walks up to the gang. “You again? You got a problem wit’ us
Killer Bees? Do ya?!” Despite the determination flowing through Link’s veins, he falters at the
boy’s aggression brought on just by the hero’s presence. Link raises his chin anyway, mind made
up, unwavering even as the gang leader gets in his face once more.

“Don’t tell me it’s that annoyin’ hag of a teacher again...Mrs. Marie asked ya to give us a talking
to, didn’t she? You gonna tell us not to skip class? Not to be tardy or whatever?” Ivan only gives
Link time to narrow his eyes before the boy throws his arms up. “Forget about it! We’re the
mighty Killer Bees, us four are invincible. No way are we listening to a chump like you!”

Ivan’s heated glare is struck with a spark of mischief. Putting a finger to his lip, he sizes Link up
with a grin. “But...I’ll tell you what! If you wanna challenge us to a competition, then we’ll maybe
think about listenin’ a bit. What do ya say, bud? You gonna challenge the Killer Bees?” Link has
learned from experience that, when challenged, you should confirm exactly what’s being proposed
before accepting.

36
 However, a flame similar to Mrs. Marie’s has been flickering in the hero’s eyes while the gang
leader spoke. Since his talk with the teacher, Link has been set on finding a solution for her. It
doesn’t matter how dangerous this challenge is, he’ll do it regardless. After he nods, Ivan’s grin
grows. “Okay then, it’s your funeral!”

Ivan begins to circle around the hero, though he becomes agitated when Link turns with him.
The gang leader thinks Link is ruining his fun, but little does he know that Link has to follow
Ivan’s movements in order to read his lips. “Rules are simple, even a dunce like you can follow.
First, we hide, and if ya manage to find us, we run! If you catch all four of us, we lose. Got all
that, dunce?” Link’s mouth falls open, though Ivan doesn’t bother to let him confirm. “Good.
Now, ready…Go!”

The Killer Bees sprint off in all directions.

It takes Link half the day to find the four boys. By the end of it, he’s covered in dirt, and current-
ly massaging his temple after rolling into a tree several times to get one.

“Argh, I can’t believe it. You found all four of us...and you caught us all, too! Talk about utter
defeat.” While there’s evident frustration in Ivan’s voice, it’s desaturated, accepting. “I guess it’s
time we chill out. From now on, we won’t cause no more trouble for anyone.” There’s no hint of
a fight in his tone; it’s as if the gang leader had been expecting this moment to come eventually.

He and his members have finally been put in their place. Maybe they’ve been waiting, unknow-
ingly, for someone like Link to come along and put an end to their misguided ways. “Here’s a
reward for your hide-and-seekin’ skills, bud, a Piece of Heart! It’s our most prized possession, but
you deserve it more. All hail our bud—the hide-and-seek master!” The boys clap for him, and
Link finds it only natural to bow at the praise, pocketing the gift.

“Oh, and one more thing...Mrs. Marie needs an apology, but can you do it for us? We’re counting
on ya!” Link’s smile sinks into a frown at Ivan’s words. They feel obligated to finally apologize,
and they want someone else to it for them? His deadpan expression puts Ivan on edge after the
extended silence. “You deaf or something? Get going! Um...please.”

Furrowing his brow, Link hesitates before deciding that he might as well tell them, even if only
because of a thoughtless comment. Balling his left hand into a fist, he raises it and flicks his wrist
as if knocking on a door. “Yes.”

“Wait, you actually are?! Guess we thought you were just a weirdo. So you’ve been reading my lips then?”
Link’s ecstatic nodding threaten to rip his head from his shoulders. Hands start to speak, flowing fast and
eager. Ivan’s made dizzy by the swift hand gestures. “Slow down there, man! We only know a few things.
Uh, words, signs, or whatever. That Mrs. Marie is all ‘bout making everyone feel included and junk. She
really ain’t too bad, I guess...See? She totally deserves an apology, so hurry along!”

37
 With a salute, Link heads back into the schoolhouse. “Ah, my hero has returned! You said some-
thing to those delinquents, didn’t you, dear? You can’t fool me! I watched it all from the shadow
of my door.” A heat rises to Link’s cheeks at the teacher’s bright smile and overflowing enthusi-
asm. He’ll never get used to the compliments and gratitude that come with his role.

“You’ve filled me with so much joy, you deserve a reward. Here’s a little spare change! Don’t
spend it all in one place, young man.” Link considers trying to turn down the Purple Rupees, but
is almost certain that Mrs. Marie will just insist he take them. Nevertheless, it still feels strange to
receive rewards for heroic and helpful actions, even if they are work.

“When it comes to children, my eyes never deceive me. You will grow up to be a fine young
man, and your name will go down in history…” Link’s jaw hangs in awe, a shine in his eyes as
Mrs. Marie smiles down at him. “That’s just what I think, dear. Thank you again for your courage
today!” Link almost skips out the door, satisfied with his efforts and exuding pride from the teach-
er’s confidence in him.

Ivan and the other boys meeting him at the door throws his jubilant pace to a grinding halt as
they crowd him. “Hey, sounds like you apologized to good ol’ Mrs. Marie for us! Thanks for that,
bud. Speaking of, it’s gonna be her birthday soon.”

“Oh, oh! Boss, should we get her some kind of present?”

“Don’t be stupid, we’re the Killer Bees! Just ‘cause we on better terms with her now don’t make
us no teacher’s pets!”

“Yeah, but Teach’ loves jewelry and junk more than anythin’ else in the world! What’s she into
these days? Joy Pendants, I think?”

“Really? That’s perfect, we can give her a bunch of those! I bet that’ll make her really happy.
But where do we find those sort of things? Are they just layin’ around somewhere?”

“Nah, those are super rare! No way they’re just sitting about, that’d be too easy.”

Link’s eyes dart between the four boys, doing his best to follow the conversation. When it all
contextualizes, his hands spasming out in excitement. “Ah jeez, I said you gotta go slow or we
won’t understand ya! What’s up, bud?” Shaking his head to ground himself enough to function
through the intense vigor, Link opens his pouch to reveal the many Joy Pendants lying inside.

“Whoa, you have a bunch of pendants already?! Would you be willing to part with some of ‘em?” Links
signs back with another yes, given how it seems to be one of the few words they boys recognize. “Thanks a
bunch, man. She’s gonna lose her mind over such a cool gift! You really are a pretty neat guy.”

38
 Fidgeting in place at the kind words, Link smiles up at them. Each of the Killer Bees motion for
Link to head back into the schoolhouse, so he does. The experienced, coordinated hero nearly
trips over his feet, pivoting too fast in his anticipation. He misses the guffaw from the boys as he
throws himself into the school, much to Mrs. Marie’s surprise.

“Back so soon, dear? Are you perhaps interested in sitting in on one of my joyos classes?” Mrs.
Marie’s smile is soon replaced by an open mouth and wide eyes. “Oh, right! Is this better?” To
Link’s shock, the teacher repeats the same question with her hands. An enormous grin stretch-
es across the hero’s face, using his fingers to confirm Mrs. Marie’s suspicion. “I thought so! My
apologies for noticing this late, young man. I haven’t encountered a deaf child in some time, so
I’m sorry if I’m rusty. I’ll do my best to get the signs right, but just in case, do you mind if I speak
too?”

His elated smile doesn’t lessen in the slightest as Link bobs his head. “Thank you very much!
Okay, let’s see if I can do this properly.” Raising her hands next to her mouth, Mrs. Marie slows
her lips to match her fingers. “Now, what did you come to see me for?” Suddenly recalling just
that, Link rushes to pull out one of her gifts. “Wait, is that…A Joy Pendant! To tell the truth, I
love jewelry more than anything, and that piece you’re holding is extremely rare! This for me?”

Link nods and holds the necklace up to Mrs. Marie. Her hands hesitate, pulling back and forth
until she finally takes it, gasping once it’s in her grasp. “Oh my, what a sweet boy you are! I’ll put
it on right away.” Holding the pendant above her head, Mrs. Marie marvels at it before wrapping
it around her neck.

“It goes so well with my style, and just look at how it shines! Yes, to have one is more than
enough for me to be happy.” Her smile shines bright as the pendant while she twirls the chain
between her fingers. “Well, I’d honestly like about twenty of them, but that’s a thought saved only
for my wildest dreams.” After she’s ogled at the necklace enough, Mrs. Marie shifts her gaze to the
hero standing proud beneath her.

“It’s tough to put one past an experienced teacher, you know. That being said, I’m pretty sure I
know who put you up to this. You’ve really turned that gang around! I can’t help but offer you
another reward. Please say hello to those precious boys if you see them again!” For the second
time today, Link fends off the pangs that come with such a reward. Still, he admires the Red Ru-
pee in his hand, cheeks mimicking its color before pocketing it.

Just as he stores the currency, Link pulls out several more necklaces from his pouch and holds
them out to a flabbergasted teacher. “Wait, you have more Joy Pendants for me? My, I can’t imag-
ine where you managed to find...twenty eight of them! I’ll take twenty of them, thank you. Twen-
ty is my lucky number, after all!”

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 Mrs. Marie hangs the many pendants along her arms, gaping at their glory. “Oh, my body is
alight with excitement! So this is what pure joy feels like! You truly deserve a proper reward for
this. Close your eyes, dear.” Link does as instructed, feeling a paper being placed in his grip after
a moment. “This is the deed to my very own cabana in a tropic oasis down south. I haven’t made
much use if it, so it’s all yours!”

Bubbles form in Link’s gut. He stares at the paper in awe, unsure of how to process receiving
such a gift. He’s quick to raise his gaze to catch Mrs. Marie’s words. His lips perk when Link
catches her rising shoulders as she giggles at his reaction. “Sea travel hasn’t agreed with me as of
late, so now I can stay here and relax as I continue my work with the children. From now on, it’s
your own bachelor pad. Enjoy it, dear!”

Link offers her an awkward bow to show his gratitude, and she chuckles yet again. With that,
Link waves at her before rushing out the door, excited to begin this journey. He makes sure to nod
at the Killer Bees as he sprints past them. A new quest awaits him, and Link isn’t waiting another
second to set sail.

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 Stone Mask
by Celia Knight

Heroes are fated for many great things, but they are always someone else before they are heroes.
Sometimes they try to defy fate and try to remain who they were before, unqualified for their call-
ing. Sometimes they are overcome by their duty, left to the wolves or to become one. Sometimes
they are martyrs and sacrifices for greater heroes to come, a ghost of the past that lingers as a
lesson.

And then there are heroes who are children.

Children who should be sunrisen bread and crystalized honey, children who shouldn’t be
moon-fallen helplessness and repeating days stuck and melted together on the sidewalk. Children
are fast learners, quick to discover places within themselves and their own thoughts that are safe
when the world no longer is. Children are quick at adapting to being, even if the being isn’t them-
selves.

Link was talented at being a deku scrub, at being a zora, at being a goron, but he felt he wasn’t
talented at being a Hylian. It was easier to be a wayward nothing underground, to be a marvel in
the center spotlight, to be a hope of a lost warrior. These felt like pretend; these felt like receding
into his head when things were scary; these felt safe. To Link, pretend didn’t feel like being shaped
by fate’s cruel whims.

But fate was a threefold thing, an argument between sisters who all thought they were the fun-
niest. Link was to find his friend, Link was the kind of person who desired to help others, and Link
was meant for greatness; Skull Kid was meant to be alone, Skull Kid was to be met with a terrible
fate, and Skull Kid was to meet his end by a hero. These were the whispers they spoke into the
void.

Skull Kid had turned the hand of the clock and begun his game fueled by loneliness twisted into
vengeance. Children wanted to play forever—this was the repetition of Termina in her most glo-
rious hours right before a carnival, when delight was high, colors were vibrant, when the adults
couldn’t be bothered to keep an eye on their children. How quickly adults forgot they could be
spirited away by games and fairies.

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 But there were many more facets to Termina than just her clock town, which meant there were
more places Link needed to explore to find his friend. Link thought evil would hold off until the
stage for the final battle was set. But Majora was a different kind of evil compared to the metic-
ulous planning that Link was used to from Ganon. The fates didn’t promise time, but his gifted
ocarina had, even if it was the same days folded in on themselves over and over.

Time was a silly thing Link never managed to wrap his head around, but his hands could cling to
a sword just fine. Dexihands and Floormasters and Wallmasters and promises all grabbed at him
in every new place he scoured. He’d promised. Link had promised, but then he’d left his friend all
alone. Evil could wait—it would have to.

There were some places in Termina Link could get to on his own, others he needed help or tools
or the right time. Ikana was the kind of place that needed help, that Link could only come back to.
The dead lay beyond, but dead lay beyond anything really.

But it’s entrance was also a place where Link could play pretend and, from that distance, why
shouldn’t he be mistaken for a Garo? He was outfitted with weapons, his head was held high—but
he was instantly seen through because no matter how good Link was at playing pretentend, he
was still a child. But, he was granted passage all the same because child or no, a hero was a hero.

Link heard something while passing into Ikana.

Ikana was supposed to be a place for rest, so the livelihood of it had unsettled Tatl. She didn’t
understand why Link wanted to talk to the skeletons and redeads and gibos. She didn’t under-
stand why he would want to marvel at Poe lights or why he would want to willingly go into graves
stained with the blood of old wars. But she was a fairy and Link was a child.

Death was a concept lost on the invincibility of youth. Death was forgetfulness, was a loss to
time, was neglect and falling into the open arms of disrepair. Death was an inevitable monster
heroes couldn’t slay. Death was for adults, but Termia had been made by a child’s imagination and
brought to life by giants.

Skull Children had died once, so it wasn’t hard for them to imagine away the end that accom-
panied death, to imagine more beyond. Weren’t you a Hylian, then a child pledged to the forest?
Wasn’t death just a transition from one state of being into another? Wasn’t there always something
more? Link wasn’t unnerved by Ikana and her residents because he was anticipating at some point
to become one.

Link heard something again while leaving Ikana.

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 Senses were cruel. Sometimes they could trick another, smell tricking taste, or not work in tan-
dem at all, hearing absolutely nothing. Sight tended to lie the most. Children’s eyes were miffed
with starlight and wonder, adults’ were clouded with suspicion and hesitation. The lense of truth
was a precarious balance of both of these things; an overlapping layer of red and blue, of young
and old, of steadfast hesitance and headlong curiosity.

The soldier sat inside a circle of stones, an unusual fairy ring, a portal most Hylians couldn’t pass
through anymore. The soldier had been helplessly entangled in a veil he had no business messing
with.

Link had missed how the soldier Shiro had admitted to being there for many years. Link missed
how he was barely twenty and how proper armor like his wasn’t given until eighteen or later, so
being stationed outside of Ikana for years didn’t make sense. Link missed how his armor was still
shining, melee untested. Link had only heard he wanted help. Link had missed all the signs saying
that man shouldn’t have been.

Tatl didn’t have the heart to tell him.

But, she did wonder if his hearing was a sense that was unusually broken in all the wrong ways;
to hear the dead but ignore them saying they were dead. The dead yearn for things. The dead
were missing things. Tatl didn’t know if it was wise or foolish to give them what they wanted, let
alone accept things from them. But Link graciously and then gratefully did both, a new mask for
his collection.

“You look like a kodama.” Tatl told him. Link didn’t know what that was. “A kodama—tree spir-
its.” They rattled like bones, but they did it so softly they sounded like leaves in the breeze; dead
things mocking the sound of the living. Link didn’t mind. Link enjoyed feeling like anyone but
himself, even if it was someone like Shiro.

The stone mask had hooked into his heart and pulled, reeling in a piece it had torn from him.
But his feelings towards the stone mask weren’t the same as his others. With the stone mask, it
was important he learn and understand the feelings it gave him.

Link put the mask on and let himself wander, let himself feel helpless, let himself understand.
There was no pop of his bones, there was no marvelous transformation. Link was still himself,
which somehow felt worse. It meant he had to acknowledge himself. It meant he had to acknowl-
edge how he didn’t feel good enough, even if he’d saved Hyrule.

How many people forgot the hero once the evil had been vanquished? How many times had Link
thought it would be fun to wield a sword and become a nameless, faceless number in an endless
line of soldiers for princess Zelda? How many times had Link desired something that had terrified
his friend?

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 No matter how many people he helped in Termina and no matter how many friends he made,
no matter how many bits and bobbles he’d been given by them, they didn’t notice him in the stone
mask and they forgot him once he played his ocarina. How would that have felt without any mag-
ic, without anything to explain it away? Had his friend felt this forgotten?

What would have happened if the practical cinder block burdens of the world had become too
heavy and forced him to drop small and important gemstone like promises and memories? Would
his friend have ended up like Shiro, forgotten and alone? Would his friend have become that invis-
ible, hoarse from calling and desperate for someone to notice him?

Children who wandered the Lost Woods and couldn’t find their way out eventually became Skull
Kids, but what happens when even a Skull Kid becomes lost? Someone, anyone was better than
being this alone. If it went on long enough, if he had been abandoned enough times, even Majo-
ra was better than being this alone. So he had to help Shiro—he had to, no matter what Tatl had
said.

Link took off the mask.

“Link?” Link had Tatl with him. “Link, what’s wrong? Why are you shaking—are you cold?” Link
had taken one of the only friends who hadn’t left Skull Kid, who hadn’t been stolen away by fate,
or who hadn’t ignored Skull Kid. Had he recognized Link? Had he wanted to punish him or was
that Majora telling Skull Kid that Link deserved it?

He left you, made you feel like nothing, so make him feel like nothing—turn him into a Deku
Scrub, let him see how it feels.

Link cried.

Link liked being things other than himself. Link liked playing pretend because pretend meant all
of your promises were kept and no one was hurt and villains didn’t have to die just because they
were mad or didn’t get what they wanted. It meant your friends didn’t get left behind or get ma-
nipulated by sentient masks that were evil and made him do rotten things!

Pranks were different—pranks could be harmless and funny! It was like playing wrong notes on
purpose when they’d play their instruments together. It was like when Skull Kid had taken Link’s
ocarina and ran off, but lead Link to his secret spot. It was like when Link felt sad, so Skull Kid
would ask him to play then let him get lost in the forest to make him feel mad because mad was
different than sad and mad was better than sad and—and Link didn’t want to be sad!

47
 Link didn’t want Skull Kid to be so sad he let Majora take over his body and mind and then get
mad for him! Link wanted to find his friend and not have to go do stupid adult or hero things any-
more—but Link did want to fight Majora. He wanted to beat it up so badly it would never bother
Skull Kid ever again!

“...I told you that mask was weird. Now look at you—you’re all cried out.” But weren’t people
who were mean and took advantage of others bullies? Wasn’t making bullies go away part of the
job of a hero?

“...Link? Hey Link, why don’t we rest for the night?” But it was the third day, the sky was falling
and Link was too cowardly to stop it just yet. But being a hero meant doing things that scared you,
no matter how much you didn’t want to.

He made his way back to clock town and waited for the last moment before the moon fell, star-
ing at where he knew Skull Kid would be waiting for the end.

He promised.

Link wondered if the moon was like the Deku Tree. It was alive, it had a face, it was more than
it presented itself as. From a distance, it appeared desolate, but once upon it, she housed children
and greenery. Did Termina or Hyrule look like the moon from far away? Did Termina or Hyrule
have a face too? Did the children have faces?

“Um… Can I ask… a question? Your friends… What kind of... people are they? I wonder… Do
those people… Think of you as a friend?” Was Termina a dream world infiltrated by memories
rather than original fantasies?

“Um… Can I ask… a question? You… what makes you... happy? I wonder… What makes you
happy… Does it make... others happy too?” Were these children the giants before they’d become
something greater than themselves, the way Link was supposed to?

“Um… Can I ask… a question? The right thing… What is it? I wonder… if you do the right
thing… Does it really make… everybody… happy?” Were they also scared of becoming something
strung along by fate?

“Um… Can I ask… a question? Your true face… What kind of… face is it? I wonder… The face
under the mask… Is that… your true face?” Were they scared to be themselves?

Link gave the moon children his masks, hoping they would help them feel less afraid to do what
needed to be done. He held onto the stone mask until it was his last one to give. They kept asking
if he was pretending to be a mask salesman, but what did that mean? Did it mean he was offering
them a chance at becoming someone else?

48
 “...Everyone has gone away, haven’t they?” For a moment, Link wondered if maybe the dream
world of Termina wasn’t Skull Kid’s, but Majora’s. Maybe Majora had been the one left behind by
the giants and not Skull Kid. Maybe it had understood Skull Kid’s pain, had called out to him, and
they’d formed a bond Link understood all too late.

“Will you play… with me? You don’t have any masks left, do you?” Link didn’t have anyone else
to be but himself. He’d given that all away and couldn’t hide anymore. “Well, let’s do something
else. Let’s play good guys against bad guys… Yes. Let’s play that.” Link was given the mask of a
hero.

“Are you ready? You’re the bad guy.” To bad guys, weren’t the heroes the awful ones who ruined
everything? A hero, whose power and smite could crush even the worst of villains. A hero, who
was no longer human, but a monster in turn. Maybe heroes were just the ones who won the battle
and could tell the narrative however they wanted.

“And when you’re the bad guy, you just run.” They’d all been playing tag, a game where all ev-
eryone did was run. Majora had felt so alone. Skull Kid had felt so alone. “That’s fine right?” To
be a hero, Link needed to be someone else aside from himself. Skull Kid was to meet his end by a
hero. Perhaps the funniest sister of fate had been literal. Link wouldn’t abandon him to the kind of
loneliness Majora couldn’t let go of. Majora was a mask bred of abandonment, which could in turn
afflict itself upon anyone.

“Well… Shall we play?”

Link put on the Fierce Deity mask.

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 Merch Items!

Here is all the art for done for

the merch! Please enjoy all the
wonderful art.
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Tor 6 - 13

https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorScrawls | https://torscrawls.tumblr.com

Blazie 14

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Neon 15

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Kelp 16

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Hana 17 - 21

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Roku 22

https://twitter.com/rokulinarts

Gwendybee 23

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Nik 25 - 30

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Nolvini 31

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Crazay 32

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Pat 41 - 42

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Fran 43

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Celia 44 - 49

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Paichi 50

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Orri 51

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Chaser 52

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