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Chapter Text

Tears of the Forgotten Empire

Tears of the Kingdom, Majora’s Mask, Linked Universe

“Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

Black embers fall from the sky in reverse, flickering as they raised from the ground.

“They say that it’s the only time when our world intersects with theirs…”

Once again, darkness had laid siege to the kingdom of Hyrule. Centuries of an ancient cycle of reincarnation for the hero and the Princess, and several incarnations of an arcane hatred, and throughout it all the precarious balance of courage and wisdom and power shifted and evened out.

“That is why loneliness always pervades the Hour of Twilight.”

The lone, unassuming person being waits at the edge of where night meets twilight, a black inky abyssal barrier rippling with lines of molten gold shooting up high as a colossal wall stands between silver moonlight and corrupted yellow, starless skies.

Cloaked in brown and robed by shadows cast from trees and the terrain, the lone being stares at the barrier with watchful eyes daring it to move, to push forward and into the neighboring country. Daring it to encroach on sacred territory. Staring through it and beyond it.

A usurper king, wearing a stone mask with dead eyes, beyond the wall of Twilt magic, stared back.

He would not dare to enter into Termina, he would not dare to invade, not where the fledgling godling of an empire sits at a throne in a Stone Tower where holy gold mixes with demonic fuchsia mixes with blackness.

He would not dare to challenge the one who traces her roots to those who blasphemed the gods and were cursed as consequence, but who alone managed to win back their grace through loyalty and cunning and genius and devotion.

Because it was the Golden Goddesses themselves who directly blessed her. Who raised her from a mere mortal and into something that could threaten Zant’s god, Ganondorf.

(But that was several hundred thousand years ago.)

“The flow of time is always cruel... its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it... A thing that does not change with time is a memory of younger days...“

 “In order to come back here again, play the Minuet of Forest."

And the cycle set by Demise and Hylia started anew.

“Time passes, people move. Like a river's flow, it never ends. A childish mind will turn to noble ambition. Young love will become deep affection. The clear water's surface reflects growth.”

”Now listen to the Serenade of water to reflect upon yourself.”

The Princess of Hyrule has gone missing. 

You drummed your antsy fingers on the cool hard material of the mask in your lap. It made dull thudding noises, but was endlessly cathartic to your stressed and anxious mind. 

The Princess of Hyrule, Zelda, is missing. 

Which is simply preposterous.

How, pray tell, does a whole adult, magical princess of a whole entire kingdom go missing? 

Both the magical princess and her magical knight…

“Go to Hyrule,” they said. 

“It’ll be fun,” they said. 

“Hyrule has just gotten itself out of the latest evil magical bullsh¡t that happened to them and won’t be dangerous until at least the next century!” 

They.

Said.

Goddesses above, you missed your home and you’ve not been gone for even a single cycle of three days yet. 

You got to see the massive floating castle, which everyone tells you is not supposed to be floating. You got to see the pretty plants, which apparently nobody has ever seen before. You got to see some ancient ruins… that weren’t there a few days ago?

The kingdom was wrought with confusion. Steeped in turmoil. Shivering in fear with a primal, general unease.

Forget this, Hyrule was supposed to be peaceful now! It just got over the ancient evil that was slumbering within or whatever! This is bullsh¡t! The hero came and saved the day already! The prophecy fulfilled, the job done, open and shut case. So why is another crisis happening as soon as the last one got resolved?!

You breathed in deeply, fingers stilling when the door slid opened. 

“Sorry, your Imperial Majesty. There’s been no news of the Princess,” Purah, goddesses bless her helpful soul, said. 

Purah, where would you be without Purah? Actually, where would the whole of Hyrule be without Purah? The woman had taken charge of everything in the midst and pandemonium of panic and confusion, showing a strong front of leadership and genius. Without Purah, you would have come into Hyrule without so much as a welcome, let alone any information. 

Because the Princess, and the Hero, were both missing.

And, if that wasn’t enough, no one had any news since.

“Right, then. Right,” you sighed, picking up the mask on your lap and holding it to your chest, over your heart. “Are you sure you don’t need me to have my people join the search? Your kingdom is just now building itself back up after all, I wouldn’t want you to wear yourselves thin.”

”Your Imperial Majesty,” Purah pursed her lips, frowning deeply. You know she doesn’t want to ask you to do this, but you did offer. 

You may be salty about the way your diplomatic envoy to an allied kingdom (read: vacation) ended up, but you weren’t going to just leave them behind. 

After setting down the mask, you reached up and pulled the golden crown off of your head, the tassels bouncing when you set it on your lap beside the mask. 

“Please don’t think of me as royalty right now. Just think of me as… an equal. And I’m offering, with virtually no strings attached. I mean, Termina is completely self-sustaining…” 

Termina.

Your homeland. 

You were its proud empress. You trusted your regent to run the empire in your absence… which will last much longer than you had first anticipated…

Regardless.

You’re not leaving Hyrule until this problem is solved, after all. Though, you should probably send a message to your regent. Poor guy, he obviously was terrified of responsibility even if he was best fit for the job and even though he assured you he would be fine.

“Thank you… Having your people join the search efforts would be extremely conducive. If you can spare the time…” Purah sighed, her shoulders dipping in stress. 

She was the head of Lookout Landing, which was right in front of where Hyrule Castle was supposed to be. It was the central hub for all of the rebuilding efforts, and potentially the start of a new castle town… if the castle wasn’t, you know, floating.

You tapped your fingers to your knee twice, smiling. 

“It is no trouble at all.”

You could say with pride that your own shadow people, who went mobile as soon as your fingers touched your knee the second time, were elusive enough to not be spotted even by the illustrious Sheikah. Though, you supposed that the ability to see through certain magics had long died out in Hyrule. 

It was sad to see how little magic was left in Hyrule. From your knowledge, all that is really left are four Great Fairies, too weak to do anything except for sew clothes for an offering of up to thousands of rupees and materials that they themselves cannot harvest.

Though, the wilderness was powerful in its own right… perhaps there are more spirits, spirits which you aren’t as attuned to. Regardless, what little innate magic that you were able to observe was pitiful.

Termina was brimming with magic in the meanwhile, rich and potent.

You placed your crown back on your head, and stood. 

“I’d like to take a bit of a walk. Is there anywhere I shouldn’t go?” You asked, eyeing the posters that had illustrations of all sorts of nasty things, from bokoblins to Hinoxes. Things that Termina, quite thankfully, did not have. 

Though, both kingdoms did have Chus… even if they looked significantly different, as was the inconsistent passing of time or the ongoing process of evolution.

“All around Lookout Landing is fine. Just don’t go too far, there is a Bokoblin camp down south. It’s not for quite a while though, and they’re not hard to miss,” Purah shrugged, standing and bowing shallowly. 

You thanked her for holding the door to her study open, ducking your head to avoid catching your crown on the frame, and waved her goodbye when you descended the sturdy wooden stairs. The whole place had that fresh wood smell, you think it was pine. There was some cedar mixed in too, you were sure. 

The South Gate of Lookout Landing led to a beautiful expanse of rolling hills and fields… that were littered with strange rock that was falling from the sky with luminous hues of blue-green… Oh, perhaps you shouldn’t use that word to describe rock? After all, Hyrule had a stone called Luminous Stones, you wouldn’t want to confuse it…

You eventually had to correct your assertion that there was no magic in Hyrule when you came across a deep pit. A malicious, pink-purple-red shimmer came with black tendrils of smoke and an oily tar substance on the ground. It reeked of dark magic, no, it reeked of evil magic.

You knew very well how dark magic and black magic did not necessarily equate to evil.

But outside of the strange substance, your assertion still stood. You wonder how Hyrule would get itself out of this mess without the help of Termina, without your help, since the best counter to magic is a more powerful magic.

And their great fairies were weak.

Your feet came to a stop at the bank of a small pool of water; it was barely big enough to be called a pond, though it looked to be quite deep in some places. There were giant lilypads on the surface, big enough to lay down on and float and watch the clouds or stars depending on the time day or night.

Time. 

Such a strange, fickle thing.

You feel more acquainted with time than the normal person, like some kind of old friend that you didn’t know much about. That was more than most people can say, even if you cannot boast a closer relationship or understanding.

Sometimes, though, you don’t think you can understand time at all.

Days restarting, time loops, time travel, the moon is falling

Dawn of A New Day

You readjusted your grip on the mask clutched to your chest. You wouldn’t dare to drop it, especially not in the water, where it could get lost and take time to find it. You don’t want to sound dramatic, but that would quite literally be catastrophic. 

…very, very catastrophic.

You sighed, turning around. The water was shimmering in the morning sun, but there was much to do. You barely took a step, just began to loosen your grip on your mask, when -

SPLASH

Something fell into the pond behind you, the splash sending a spray of water all over you.

Fortunately, your grip tightened on the mask instead of loosening, and it remained in your hands instead of falling to the ground. 

Unfortunately, you were now wet. 

You spun around, eyes searching to see what caused that giant splash; it was a person. A man.

He swam over to the bank, stepping out and wringing  out his clothes - it was clothes from ye olden days, wayyyy back when. The style was practically prehistoric; it was a toga, which the ancient Hylians wore on the surface when the newest Hyrule was first founded. (You think you remember hearing about a New Hyrule after it had previously been flooded, but you weren’t sure.)

So yeah, really old fashioned. Old as dirt, in fact.

Once he was satisfied with how much water he wrung out from the fabric, he let it fall from his hands - you noticed that one arm was discolored and covered in a golden-copper colored stone, was slightly longer than the other and ended with claws - and shook out his wild, choppy mane of dirty blond hair. And it was a mane; wild and untamed, shaggy, practically sticking up and out everywhere like the world’s worst case of bed head. And it was dirty blond, whether that was the actual color or because it was just dirty.

And that’s when he noticed you. 

He blinked. 

You blinked. 

He blinked again.

Wait a moment, you thought to yourself. Why does he match the description of Zelda’s knight? That hero guy? Link?

…wait a d@mn second…

”You wouldn’t happen to be Link, would you?”

He slowly nodded. 

You felt your soul leave your body. 

“You’ve been missing for quite some time,” you signed, feeling older than you actually are, even though your age was already subjective at best. “Follow me, I think Purah will like to be the first to know of your return.”

You owed Purah, you felt, for making sure that you didn’t just go back home to Termina without ever learning about what happened in Hyrule. But now, you’d consider your debt repaid.

Goddesses above, you missed your coffee machine. And your bed. But mostly your coffee. 

Chapter Text

Where there are shadows, there are the Garo. 

Where there are secrets, there are listening ears. 

Where there is an oath being broken, there are eyes watching. 

The Sheikah coined the name “the Shadow People”, they had been given that title back in Hyrule’s founding. But the Garo are the ones who truly took on that creed, who ran with it and lived by it. 

The Sheikah fell, became loyal servants to the Royal family of Hyrule, who died for the crown, and then who became no more than farmers. Now, they are split between Kakariko and a banana-loving clan of jokes. They have given up their title, their monikers, and have stepped away from their history. 

The Garo fell, became casualties in a never ending war in ancient Termina. They lived and died by their creed. Now, they are only whispers of what had once been a people. They persist, keep their culture and creed. They will hold onto their history until the end of days, because they held onto it through life and death together.

The Garo continued to claim the shadows long after the Sheikah stepped into the light. 

Not much more than empty husks of bloodlust and willpower, they were wandering spirits in the deserted outskirts of your kingdom. They decimated thousands, slaughtered any and all travelers; they were the reason that Ikana was boarded off and sequestered from the main of Termina for so long, barred off with cold iron gates and thick concrete.

It was nothing short of divine intervention and a fountain of miracles that led to peace being made with the shadows of Termina, and they pledged their undying loyalty to you.

And it was literal divine intervention. And the fountain of miracles were actually four fountains, but the thought still counted.

Link was meeting with Purah, and two other Sheikah researchers - you think their names were Robbie and Josha. It was something to do with the security of Hyrule, and seeing as the Princess is still absent… well, it wouldn’t look good for a foreign monarch like you to involve yourself too much in matters of crisis. 

Politics. 

That’s just a pretty word for what it was; cuckoo manure.

(Though, you don’t think there was too much in the way of politics in Hyrule just yet, since it was now a fledgling potential monarchy after a hundred years of a government of anarchy.)

And as a leader, you were forced to wade hip-deep through it. 

At least you didn’t have to deal with the traditional monarchy and aristocracy and bureaucracy. Because, technically, you were an absolute monarch with tangible, legitimate divine right.

Your word was final.

You pulled up the hood of your purple silk cloak over your golden crown, finding yourself back at the place where Link had fallen out of the sky. 

The pond of water had obviously been disturbed. Lilypads were broken in a ring where the man had taken his dive, and the water reflected silver instead of gold; the moon had taken over the skies as the sun had set, and you found the cursed magic of Hyrule was more active at night.

Even in the day, it was angry. It sapped at your strength like a thread being pulled by the spool until you noticed it and cut off the foul magics trying to connect to you. You knew it then, but you know it better now. 

It was necromancy, which may not have been all that bad despite its negative connotations, but it was paired with that awful anger and resentment. It called back those with a weak will (such as monsters) who have died and turned them to berserkers.

Thankfully, it was nowhere near strong enough to bring back what had once been Hylians. Or worse than Hylians. Stalfos were smarter and more skilled than most other monsters, and that was because they were trained to kill the living when they themselves were still alive.

They were soldiers when they still breathed.

 And they were, thankfully, all gone. It was a different, more twisted and cursed magic that had reanimated the Stalfos, one that was also lost to Hyrule now.

The gloomy magic in Hyrule was too weak to summon the amount of undead that could be raised in Termina. Although, the thought of a Stalnox did give you pause.

(At least Hinoxes were dumb in both life and death. You would sooner deal with a Stalnox over a Stalfos any day.)

Your fingers brushed the hem of the silken hood before you dropped your hand back to your side. It was adorned with golden bangles and rings, encrusted with ruby, sapphire, and topaz for their protection against temperature and electricity. The elemental magic of gems seemed to persist even in Hyrule, judging by the Gerudo merchant selling her wares inside of Lookout Landing.

You supposed that was a good thing, when Hyrule was facing its second calamitous event so soon after the first one was vanquished. 

You feel a presence in the shadows casted by a rock, so you walk over to it and listen to the whispers of the Garo.

”The Princess has been sighted by the Rito in Hebra.”

”The Princess has been seen in Death Mountain by the Gorons.”

”The Zora people have seen the Princess in Lanayru.”

”The Princess is rumored to be near Gerudo Town.”

Odd. 

The magic of duplicates is one that Hyrule no longer has a grasp on. So Princess Zelda cannot be in four places at once…

”There are strange happenings in the four regions.”

”Redeads or Gibdo in the desert…”

”Sludge falling from the sky in Lanayru…”

”Gluttony and Wrath by the Gorons…”

”The blizzards in Hebra have forced the Rito into isolation.”

What are the chances that… 

“Thank you. Keep watching.”

A slithering noise joined in with the soft howl of wind.

”I’ll need my weapons then,” you mused. “Protect who you can from the shadows, but never put yourselves at risk.”

You do not need to tell them to be careful, but the Garo do seem to feel lighter when you display your concern and worry to them. So you do. What ruler would deny her people this kindness?

The bubbling of viscous liquid was paired with the slithering sounds, it seemed to be getting closer.

”And remember…”

A screaming hiss came from behind, malicious intent flared.

”Your Queen is here.”

Hands of that same oily, evil magic that crawled from the pits in extended, each with a glowing amber eye in its palm. But you were not defenseless, and you didn’t even need the help of the Garo so eager to protect you. 

You raised the heart-shaped mask you’ve been holding for so long and placed it over your face. And when you turned, the eyes of Majora cast its eerie stare on the bitter magic.

The Gloom Hands stared back for a while before sinking into the grassy fields, one after the other, disappearing and drawing away. 

The very sight of your mask had sent its sentries running.

The person who casted this magic was controlled by their cowardice. 

But you had a feeling that you would be meeting them.

With a few more whispered words, you allowed the Garo to slip away and back to wherever they went to spy. They did what they did best and were incredibly intuitive, so you trying to order them around or trying to micromanage them more would only hinder the use of their full abilities. 

Where there are Garo robes, there are shadows. 

Where there are Garo robes, there are secrets being picked away by vultures and uncovered from tombs until there is nothing left.

The Twili man known as Zant, the Usurper King, may have been a coward. But he rode his high after bathing Midna in light, knowing that she would die in pain, and cursing the Hylian boy to his ‘Divine Beast’ form. 

Heh. As if that prophecy could possibly come into fruition; his god was powerful, his god could crush all resistance like a bug beneath his boot.

It was this hubris that had Zant back at the border where Hyrule ended and Termina began. Last time he had been there, Twilight had marked this very border. 

This time, Zant decided to step through, beyond the border, into the land that his god had overlooked. (Because surely, surely his god couldn’t have actually been wary of this place, not while he had the Triforce of Power. Not while he had the Triforce of Wisdom so close to him, trapped in a deep slumber.)

And so, Zant had stepped foot into Termina.

The Twili may have been called “Shadow People” too, but not in the same way that the Sheikah or the Garo were. The Twili were literally Shadow People, shunned by light because of the actions of their ancestors the Interlopers. They were the dark side of the same coin that Hyrule, and now Termina, inhabited. 

The Twili may be Shadow People, but the Sheikah were better at hiding. And the Sheikah may be Shadow People, but the Garo were the best. 

Zant didn’t know he was being watched, and the Sheikah that remained in Hyrule were hidden in a village with a fake front. 

Regardless, Zant didn’t even get to walk any further into Termina when he could feel the curse on the Hylian boy break.

How could this be?

Zant teleported away. He had to find out, he needed to plan. He needed to get that boy out of his way, he needed to crush him under his foot to prove his use to Ganondorf. 

Chapter Text

By the time that dawn broke across the sky, you were running your fingers through the Hylian Tunic for sale on the East Wall of Lookout Landing. The fabric was firm, just soft enough to have a bit of give and stretch but strong enough that it’d take a really sharp sword to cut through it.

Apparently, with the upheaval of the castle and the sudden appearance of floating sky islands, every single weapon in Hyrule decayed and rusted. Everything was fit with blunt edges and little to no durability - a scuffle with a little red bokoblin would end with a shattered sword or spear.

You only thought less of the person casting this magic. They feared retaliation from scattered peoples and civilians, they feared a kingdom without a trained army or militia. So they crippled them even further. 

It was quite the annoyance, even if you could see the strategic boon this coward gained from ruining everyone’s weapons. 

You pulled your hand back to your chest, manicured nails tracing the patterns of the mask you were holding. You would have to put it back in your traveler’s pack soon, though it always felt wrong to have it out of your sight. You used its magic many times, and were grateful to it, but you didn’t trust it one bit.

With the Dawn of a New Day, you had shed your ornate Royal robes and instead donned the full Garo Master’s getup; the purple cloak that you always wore was draped over a scarlet tunic embroidered with flame decals. 

The clothing fluttered in the wind but made no sound. The cloak hid most of your body and most of the tunic, just brushing past your knees and covering your arms entirely. You could swing your arms this way and that and it would still be hard to see your movements through the cloak. Your shoes were padded so that they made no noise when you ran, but reinforced so that you wouldn’t stub your toe or, goddesses forbid, have your foot get cut off.

It was made for ninja, by ninja, and complemented the Garo’s fighting style which you could just barely emulate. Movements indicative of a coming attack were hidden behind the veil of fabrics, motions were covered, your traveler’s pouch filled with valuables was under the cloak, everything about you was a mystery when you wore the Garo Master’s garb. 

You had your shield and sword strapped over your back though, just like the Heroes of old - just like the Hero of Time. 

Your shield was a curious thing, encircled by a bronze alloy in the shape of a decagon and depicting a horrific, pale silver-white, ghastly face stretched in eternal agony. Three bars of gold secured the shield on the left and right sides like the bars of a jail cell, and the grip was with leather straps that you had to replace and refurbish when the Mirror Shield landed in your possession. 

Your sword was equally strange, though beautiful instead of offsetting. It was long, longer than the length of your entire leg from the waist down. It is sharp as a razor, and sharper still to the point where the edge with the same color as your cloak could cut through stone without being dulled. A long green fuller went up the length of the blade with black roses etched into it, and the double-guard was reminiscent a flower blooming and its sepal flaring out. The Great Fairy’s Sword was left behind by a Hero too young to be dead (but now, too old to be more than dust).

However, both were effective. Both would serve their purposes well, just as they had in the distant past.

You watched as Link, the man who had fallen from the sky with quite an impressive splash, descended the wooden staircase leading from Purah’s study with a despondent look in his eyes. You didn’t like it; no hero should have that look in their eyes.

(No kid should have never had that look in their eyes. No empire should look to the moon and only feel despair.)(Thank the goddesses, this hero was not a child.)

“Good morning, your Imperial Majesty,” a man in an incomplete guard uniform (helmet missing, knee-guards missing) and holding a rusted travelers spear bowed his head to you as you walked passed him. You paused, then looked to him.

”At ease, soldier,” you smiled benevolently. You had a very good relationship with your own guards, and your entire army swore their undying loyalty to you for bringing them into a prosperous era of peace. Not all of them could pledge their lives to you, most of them couldn’t; they were already dead, whether they were Garo or Stalfos and Stal children. The kingdom of Ikana, where you were first recognized as royalty, was a kingdom of the dead and forgotten.

You could respect even such an informal army, the tiny fleet of farmers who got their weapons from ruins in Hyrule because of their bravery. They would be the face of a new era of a new kingdom, and they were brave for willing to be the first of their kind.

You couldn’t help but admire them, even if they were mere candles against the blazing inferno that was the magic monster underneath Hyrule’s land. 

“Ah! Link! Over here!” The soldier loosened up when you waved away the etiquette people must follow near nobility - it was utter horse manure to you anyway. 

The hero’s blue eyes gained some strength when he was called over. It was like purpose was poured into him again, like life was breathed back into him when he was faced with proof that his people were rebuilding both themselves and the fallen kingdom that had only seen the Calamity looming above them.

It was clear that the soldier had some kind of admiration, a reverence, towards Link. You wouldn’t be surprised if all aspiring fighters in Hyrule, let alone all people, would feel that way. 

The man schooled himself in the way that rookies do to make themselves seem cooler.

“My name is Scorpis. I’ve been charged with managing Lookout Landing.”

”Well met, Scorpis of Hyrule,” you appraised him once more. 

Your words were echoed by Link(he hadn’t ever heard someone say “nice to meet you” so formally, at least, he doesn’t remember if he had), whose eyes darted between you and Scorpis. 

“Do go on,” you smiled with as much warmth as you could. The Terminean princess, now empress, had always been a bit cold… but that was actually due to you keeping your cards to your chest. You were given the honor, the duty, the responsibility of caring for Majora’s Mask. It would not do to burden others with your plights. 

And it would not do to aim that coldness towards Link, who was and was not who you once knew. 

You began to walk away but stopped, and turned back.

“Oh, and Link,” you called out as the stone floor moved, revealing a hidden entrance that led to the underground emergency shelter. From what you understood, there was a passageway leading to Hyrule Castle, or, it had led to the castle. It was supposed to be an escape route for the Royal Family, a fail safe. 

You did not have such a thing where your throne lay. The people of Ikana were warriors of honor through and through, the royalty was no exception. You did not give yourself any escape route when it wasn’t afforded to your people.

You were their protector. 

And they were yours. 

You brushed your fingers against the spikes of Majora’s Mask, breathing in softly. 

“Do tell me when you’re going to search for the Princess of Hyrule. I would like to meet her.”

A look of understanding crossed his face and he nodded resolutely. Purah had undoubtedly briefed him on who you were. 

He would be suspicious of you if she hadn’t, with all of the Yiga assassins out for the blood of the goddess Hylia and her appointed knight. 

“The Yiga clan were servants to Hyrule’s Great Calamity,” the Garo had whispered to you. “They are led by the one they call ‘Master Kohga.’”

”Do you want him dead?”

You had told them that they did not need to assassinate Kohga. You were a princess of peace and prosperity, not a warlord of bloodshed. You were not the one to conquer Termina even if you were its empress, but you had been given leadership by the gods of the land. 

The people did not contest that. 

When Link crawled out of the bunker - literally crawled, as in, clawed his way out of the ground while his peculiar arm had an eerie green glow - he told you that he was going to talk to Captain Hoz at the First Gate of Hyrule Castle. You decided not to even question it.

You put the Majora’s Mask into your enchanted bigger-on-the-inside travel pouch. 

“Please lead the way,” you smiled, “I am in your care, Link of Hyrule.”

A portal opened in Hyrule, deep Royal purple and swirling with both light and shadow. It was bordered by glowing chains inscribed with runes, opened by the will of the goddess Hylia. 

Out stepped eight Heroes of Old. 

“Huh, am I seeing this right? The castle is floating…” Four blew his chin-length blond hair out of his face, staring blankly at the floating goddess-d@mend castle. 

“The castle is floating,” Time confirmed. The castle. Is floating. 

Well, at least the moon isn’t falling again.

Chapter Text

You practiced magic.

You would even go as far to say that you are a sorceress, a master of your niche craft. You took pride in sensing and identifying all sorts of magic, whether fairy, forest, spiritual, divine, elemental, dark, or otherwise. You could see Hyrule’s magic, the wispy threads that broke in the softest breeze. You could see the evil magic, tearing its way through the world and ripping into reality with bitter claws.

And you could see the magic around the Hyrule’s beloved hero.

Link’s right arm glowed like a star in supernova, though the resting color was one of dull ashes. Dark grey like coal. In your sights, it was a constant beacon of brightness. A golden-bronze colored stony material bound the magic to the arm, but also served as some kind of conduit, ending with rings over each clawed finger. It was a tribal magic, an extinct magic. Something that you’ve only ever seen in Majora’s Mask and the other demon mask, albeit a little less potent. Less changed.

It was ever so curious, however Link could have possibly come across it. It just didn’t make sense to you. 

“You can ask,” Link’s voice was soft yet it cut through your thoughts easily enough. Your eyes left his arm and went to his eyes.

He was no longer wearing that ancient getup, but instead he wore a blue tunic with fine leathers and matching leather boots. He wore the Hylian Hood down and the trousers you saw for sale when you were browsing in Lookout Landing. 

His eyes were as blue as the simple earrings in his ears and the hair tie that kept much of his hair in a ponytail at the base of his neck.

“I apologize,” you demurred. It was rude to stare, and it was even ruder to stare at what someone could call a ‘disfigured arm,’ even if it was a stare of interest rather than a glare of unsightliness. “I can tell that your arm has a powerful magic. May I ask, where did you get it?”

He shrugged. 

“I don’t really know a lot about magic. It was a, uh, transplant. My arm was wrecked by a mummy under the castle, and I needed a replacement.” He hovered his left hand over his right elbow hesitantly before he clasped down on it like it was foreign. And, judging by his words, it was. “It’s Zonai, I think.”

Ah, that made more sense. 

“The race of dragons and immortality,” you breathed out with reverence. Then, you were overcome with childlike, and scholar-driven, curiosity. “They had big ears, right?”

Link fought off a smile, but it was a battle he evidently lost. You were happy to bring even the slightest joy to a hero bound to a second, perilous quest.

”Yeah. The biggest. But hey, they were hailed as gods, you know,” he jabbed playfully. Like he was testing the waters. 

The knight of Hyrule wanted to know if he could be this casual with the empress of Termina. Would he be allowed, or be scolded? Would he face anger and judgement, or equal treatment.

Your smile was sly. 

“Gods of hearing, I suppose.”

Hailed as gods, yet nowhere near the same.

Blasphemy ran deep in their actions.

Claiming a broken Hyrule trampled underfoot by demons, rebuilding it and usurping the Golden Goddesses and shaping it as their own. Yes, Hylia remained in this new kingdom where a Zonai took the throne, but only because Her blood ran through the veins of the Queen Sonia and because they were banking on Hylia’s Chosen Hero.

They hadn’t learned their lesson; building a kingdom from the ground up to take the place of the Goddesses, as if Nayru wasn’t the one who the made the very magic they were turning against their creators. As if the breath they breathe wasn’t from Farore. As if the stones they built their towers from wasn’t the rock that Din had made the earth from.

Yes, you recognized the colors and carvings of the stones in the Stone Tower turned Temple. Faded reds and cyans and greens, not unlike the labyrinths that Purah had told you of. 

The Goddesses had flipped their tower upside down, and locked the magic with their Holy Light.

Those who didn’t fall through the ceiling, who didn’t land on the remains of the Islands in the Sky after being thrown from the Tower, those who didn’t get flung off of the face of the earth, had chosen to use the Triforce itself to combat the Goddesses.

The Zonai were interlopers, indeed; ”gods” of hearing, but nothing more.

You didn’t quite manage to get Link to laugh, but it was a close thing.

Link remembers a time where he wasn’t him, but instead a stoic knight who had no room for error and was sharpened to perfection. He wouldn’t be laughing with the Princess of Hyrule, let alone a monarch from a distant land. He wouldn’t speak.

Link could never be him. But, Link feels that he can be glad that he wasn’t him. 

They were so different. 

But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. 

The walk to the gates was a short one.  Link braced himself, raising his arm to activate the Ultrahand ability in order to open the towering gates to the castle. He felt the power lock on, and pushed. The old doors untouched after the calamity creaked in protest before opening with a wide swing.

“Oh my,” you said as you looked up at the imposing castle. 

The Castle was floating. 

You had already known this, but still.

The Castle. Was floating. 

Ah, your neck hurt from being strained. You lowered your gaze to the ashen path spiraling around a crater that reeked of evil magic. 

“What do you call that,” you gestured at the evil, malicious magic that was splattered across stone and grass alike like oil and tar, and smoked something foul. 

“Gloom,” he said simply. 

You repeat the words quietly, to yourself, rolling it over your tongue in thought. The name for it worked, but you would liken it more to Malice. 

Oh, wait, Hyrule called something else Malice, didn’t they. Then, you would liken it more to… Doom, maybe?

”And what do you call those hands made of Gloom?” 

“The what?”

Oh, did he not know of them? To be fair, he did kind of just get info-dumped after missing for quite a while…

”The hands. Made of Gloom. With eyes in their palms.”

“The. What.”

The path up to the First Gatehouse wound up slowly, and your legs burned with the thought of more walking. Ah, you realized that adventuring was going to be a lot more than you had bargained for. Hopefully, you could supplement some of it with magic. 

Captain Hoz stood on a higher balcony, so Link jumped into the wall and crawled through it to get to him while you remained on the ground. 

The Zonai arm had strange magic. Not super powerful, and nothing too impressive, but it was still just… strange.

It was rather advanced for such ancient magic, though primitive in its abilities. 

A loud exclamation drew you from your thoughts, and your head whipped around until you were met with a curious sight.

The Princess. The Royal Princess Zelda of Hyrule. She wore clothes from a period of time long past, but something about her set you off.

Zelda looked at Link, looked at you, then looked to the sky. 

She disappeared with excess magic in the form of golden twinkles. 

It was wrong. It wasn’t light magic, so the fact that it looked to be made your skin itch. 

You didn’t like it. 

Purah, who looked dead on her feet, continued to remain strong, goddesses bless her soul. She listened patiently as you described your observations of the Gloom Hands, of the foul magic that reeked, and of the strange sight of the Princess at the Castle. 

You didn’t mention your suspicions about Zelda; a foreign leader coming in during a time of crisis and sowing doubt? That would not look good on you, and it would reflect poorly on Termina no matter if you were correct in your assertions. 

Still. 

“The Zora, Goron, Rito, and Gerudo regions are all suffering various phenomena,” Purah told you. 

You remembered the counsel of your Garo robes, and considered what you knew. 

“Would it provide aid for you and your researchers if I went abroad and checked on each region? I could bring a small delegation of myself and a few guards…” you offered, careful to not overstep. 

Purah hummed thoughtfully. 

“It would be very helpful, your Imperial Majesty, and it would be even better if you could bring Link with you,” she told you bluntly. While she had the decorum to call you by your royal title, she didn’t have much else in the way of frivolities. It was rather refreshing. 

“I would need a guide; Hyrule is awfully large,” you agree promptly. 

The Sheikah woman regarded you with tired eyes, intelligence churning deep below and wariness exposed, but Purah knew that there were very few people in Hyrule qualified to be of any use here. 

“Thank you, your Imperial Majesty.”

Chapter Text

It was best not to travel in the dark, so you spent another night in the safety of the bunker’s beds. The next morning, you and Link were prepared and gone.

Lookout Landing was at your back, but you waved goodbye to the guards at the gates. Stationary guard without quick shifts was something so boring that it was a good test of will, and you respected the volunteers who held position. 

Though you did not envy them. 

Being a traveling hero meant having a knack for finding obscure treasure apparently, because barely an hour out on a path through Mabe Prairie Link had veered off course and found an abandoned treasure chest that he snapped a quick pictograph of (he called the device a ‘Purah Pad,’ named after the inventor, and the pictograph a ‘picture’. He said something about filling out a ‘Hyrule Compendium,’ and you weren’t one to stop him). The chest only held five arrows, but seeing as he was equipped with a bow… well, he must have skill as an archer, and having arrows could only help.

Thrice more had he went off of the trail, going to a lake where he found another two chests and a forest with another; two had a single opal each, the gems sparkling with subtle water magic, and the other he had to fetch out of the water. It had three bomb flowers. The third time he left the path was to find a little forest spirit that was native to Hyrule; a Korok. 

According to it, only children and the pure of heart could see them. You wonder if you qualified as a pure of heart or if you could see them because you were blessed with magic sight.

The way that Link traveled was… nothing short of extraordinary. He didn’t even seem to look before he grabbed something; he picked up every mushroom him the trail, every truffle growing at the base of a tree, every herb that stood amongst the long grasses. 

He caught crickets and butterflies out of the air, plucked apples from trees - he even grabbed a fish right out of the water when he was opening the treasure chest with the opal in it. 

It was fascinating how he just… did everything. And with barely a thought too! It looked more like muscle memory and instinct rather than any conscious action.

”And your Purah Pad just stores everything for you?” You peered over his shoulder, where he tapped on the screen of the pad. Sure enough, there were icons of each material that he gathered along with a counter for each, tallying how much he had. 

“Yeah. It’s really handy, since I don’t have to carry a giant backpack like Beedle or the others,” he smiled as he hooked the Purah Pad to his belt and continued on. 

It had faint traces of magic, it felt like the Korok that you had met earlier, and something like that the technological tower in Lookout Landing, but it looked to just be technology that is powered by passive energies and maintained by Korok magic.

But other than that…

“So Hyrule doesn’t have any enchanted gear,” you inferred, thumbing at your pouch which contained the mask along with bottles of rupees, potions and medical supplies. It could carry a carriage load’s worth of supplies and not weigh any more than a satchel of its size.

Such an item is common in Termina, and for a long time you thought it was common in Hyrule too.

“The Great Fairies can bless clothes. They make them more resistant and durable,” he shrugged. 

“Is that so.” You mourned how weak they were, if that’s all they can do. 

“Yahaha! You found me!” 

It was the first time you found a Korok by yourself. Link was sitting by the traveler’s cooking pot in a squat, hugging his knees and poking the burning coals with a stick. A few skewers of Hyrule Bass and mushrooms - some of which you helped get, Link have you some tips about foraging - were cooking over the flames, seasoned by whatever he pulled from the grass and it smelled divine. 

“Wow, you’re really pretty, miss!” The Korok giggled, waving its stick around as it jumped. You could only smile. 

“Thank you. I love your leaf. It’s maple, right?” 

It nodded, suddenly bashful. You patted its wooden head, and it offered you a… poop…

”It’s a Korok seed. We take turns hiding them from Hetsu’s maracas, but since you found me you get to give it back to him!”

It was a magic poop. While it had a, uh, unique smell, it was technically sterile… seeing as it was a magic construct…

”I’ll be sure to give it to him when I get the chance.”

 You gave the thing to Link the first moment you could.

Unlike how the Koroks Link found stayed to themselves, standing where he found them or hovering with a leaf helicopter, this one decided that it liked you and followed you around like a baby duckling. It braided flowers into your [hair length] hair and played with the gemstones on your bracelets while you both ate off your skewers.

“You should come visit Korok forest. Grandfather would love you! He tells the best stories, and he’s super wise and cool! I like to sleep in his branches…” The Korok babbled. 

You nodded indulgently while inwardly thinking about what the Korok considers a ‘Grandfather.’ Is it just a bigger Korok? A tree? 

“There’s a cave,” Link frowned. You turned to him, he was looking away so your eyes followed his; sure enough, there was a cave just barely to the East. “That’s new.”

”The cave is new?” you felt a tad perplexed. How can a cave be new?

”Yeah.”

You left it at that, seeing him stand and step away from the cooking pot. 

“I’m gonna go check it out.” 

You let him leave, watching his back cautiously. There weren’t any monsters around here, not after he killed them all with a few rusty swords and a bokoblin club with a rock glued on the end (what even-), but you were a bit on edge after seeing the abomination that is Gloom Spawn. 

Hey, you may be more powerful than it, but it still was an eldritch horror show. 

Chapter Text

Forty eight hours. 

And still, no sign of people.

Wind’s gulp was audible when they had come across the abandoned and overgrown ruins of what had once been a ranch. The amount of ruins that the Chain had come across - it didn’t bode well.

It made them feel small, and alone, and the evidence of hundreds of dead civilizations gave them chills. 

Twilight caught how Time’s single eye was trained on the grass at his feet rather than the ruins of the ranch where everyone else was looking. From Twilight’s understanding, Time had pretty much retired to live on a ranch. And Twilight had grown up on one. 

Seeing the dilapidated, crumbling walls and charred wood that must be a century old had been particularly poignant to the two ranchers. 

“We’re dead,” Wind bemoaned. Four’s eyes were equally wide, equally hopeless, though he looked away when Wind tried to talk to him. “We’re gonna die. This is the fifth time we’ve seen ruins, and we’re gonna die before we see anyone in this Hyrule!”

“No, I’m sure someone’s around here…” Hyrule piped up, but Wind wasn’t having it. 

“The Heroes of Courage! Defeated by a lack of civilization in the middle of fvcking nowhere!”

”Wind!” Sky scolded, hands on his hips. It was strange to see the first hero without the Master Sword on his back, but there he was without Fi. 

The missing Sword was a large source of discouragement, and it had Sky frazzled and in the verge of a breakdown since they all stepped out of the portal.

He had been equipped with Time’s Gilded Sword, though the reach wasn’t quite what he was used to. Nevertheless, he had quickly gotten acquainted with it.

”You’re scolding me for language? You’re joking, we’re stuck wherever we are, and the Master Sword is gone, and there’s no one for miles, godd@mnit, and I’m pretty sure wherever we are Ganon has won because the castle is floating and everyone is dead!”

That got a bunch of winces, though Legend scoffed.

“So what? We’ll just go find the pig and kill him ourselves.”

”I dunno, the black smoke and all is kind of worrisome,” Four sighed, putting his hands on his hips. 

Right. The whole choking black smoke and pinkish oil splatters that smelled like rot and felt like pain. They all glanced at each other, wondering if anyone had seen anything like it before or had any tools to help them.

Legend’s lips thinned, and he said nothing. 

“Alright, everyone,” Time finally spoke up, and it had everyone go silent. He was the leader type that caught everyone’s attention when he so much as breathed, his word was pretty much law, and he had all of their respect for one reason or another - even if he was unnecessarily cryptic sometimes. “We’re going to be setting up camp here, and get Wolfie to go ahead and scout for us.”

Wind groaned, even as he set his sword and shield down against a rickety fence, complaining yet not going against Time’s order. “Setting up camp already? It’s not even sunset yet!”

“I’ll go find Wolfie,” the captain sighed, pushing off a tree that he was leaning against. 

“Actually, I can go get him myself. I think saw him a while back,” Twilight began to walk off, not listening to any arguments that would arise. None did. 

Legend’s eyes narrowed as he left, though. Twilight was always odd about Wolfie, he was always the one to find Wolfie, and they’ve never been seen together. It’s suspicious. Those amethyst eyes slid over to the old man, who propped his Biggoron’s sword up against the fence. And it seems like Time is always covering for him too…

Twilight’s pace sped up and up, leaning forwards from a walking pace to a full on sprint. He jumped and, before his boots could hit the ground, four paws landed on the dirt. 

As a wolf, he could catch scents and see better than he could when in Hylian form. The breeze swept over the prairie just so, bringing along roasted mushroom and fish with it, and his direction changed without preamble.

The further he ran, the more the food made his mouth water. With the group, he hadn’t had good food in so long that he can barely remember what anything other than ration bars and dried meat tasted like. And at this point, he wasn’t above using his wolf form to make puppy eyes to whoever would share.

The song of a Howling Stone came up ahead, and he knew that the person with the food was singing it.

The haunting tune of the Song of Healing was hummed through your lips as you sat on one of the stone walls and kicked your feet out. You felt like the Poe Collector who always spoke to you on one of the higher mesas in Ikana, in his purple robe and kicking his own feet over the ledge. 

Magic sprung at your senses, nearly blinding you with how powerful it was; it felt like a curse and a blessing, it felt like the line between light and shadow. It was a strange sadness, when day becomes dusk becomes night. 

It was Twili. 

You found yourself holding stares with a blue-eyed wolf, and knew that you were looking at a Divine Beast blessed by the Golden Three and their Light Spirits.

”Oh youth, blessed by the gods. Blue-eyed beast, O Divine Beast…” you quoted the olden stories. 

You resumed kicking your feet, humming a new song. It was a Ballad to the Hero of the Twilight Realm.

You held a long note at the end, letting your voice die in the wind. There was a certain magic in music, even without conduits such as instruments like a lyre or an ocarina, or even a baton.

Your voice served to convey only the barest hints of it, but Termina was largely without any modes of magical instrumentation. It was an area that you would love to tap into, but had not the abilities to do so at the time. It was an area that had been introduced to you by a blue ocarina and a boy…

“Pleasant day, O blue-eyed beast. Pleasant huntings, and may your goddess-given mission be blessed with success.” 

The wolf yipped at you, trotting in a circle, and took off in the direction it had come from. 

It would be back, you knew, and it would be back with foreboding news that you would not like, but news that you could not ignore. 

Eight pairs of boots ran. 

Seeing them run in the direction of the Terminian Empress, a ninth pair that switched out for cloth shoes followed. 

Chapter Text

It all started in Ikana. 

Ikana, with its characteristic forever scorched earth, the absence of color other than bone and ash. A tree is here or there, shriveled and agonized as it twists its branches towards the heavens to pray for relief.

The cursed, desolate land of the dead was the same that you called your home. The kingdom of ghosts and gibdos, and dust and bones. The tarnished crown belonged to a king who hadn’t breathed in centuries, in a castle where the stone bricks were weathered by erosion and the halls were silent. 

His two guards were Stalfos, his Captain and his army turned Stalchild. His people were mummies, and this musicians were poes. There was a family there, but the curse of the land had infected the father as well. 

It was in this desolate wasteland of buried corpses that you were born in holy fire and the moon’s tears. 

Or maybe, you were just an abandoned infant. A child sacrifice? You were a baby in the infertile land of Ikana, but you were a beacon of life where even the trees were crippled, where the grass withered, and you were a pillar of hope to a world destined to die.

(Again. And again. And againandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagain)

Igos du Ikana declared you as his own despite whatever dubious origins brought you to him.

The Land of Termina had flourished under your rule. 

Crowned princess of the Kingdom of Ikana at three, accomplished scholar by age nine, you had led your first troop to the gates of the Stone Tower Temple in the night at the age of thirteen and waited until midnight came. 

It was that night that you had done what no other had been able to; you as a princess had drafted a treaty of peace between your people and the Garo, a dark and mysterious cloaked tribe who were sworn enemies of your kingdom. Both are kingdoms of the dead. 

For your entire life, you were the only living person aside from Pamela and her father in either merged kingdom. The entirety of Ikana was cursed to the darkness, where they were reanimated bones and loyal soldiers long past. The Garo people were empty husks of bloodlust and willpower, haunting the Stone Tower Temple and sending spies to Ikana as if both kingdoms weren’t obsolete. 

You had ended the war, but even as you ruled two kingdoms that ran with blood, your own hands were clean of sin.

It was because of this bloodless merging of two warrior kingdoms that landed you in favor of the gods that had forsaken all of Termina, the same gods that flipped and sealed Stone Tower Temple and cut off Termina from the rest of creation as punishment for an ancient blasphemy. 

For putting a stop to an endless cycle of bloodshed even when there was no blood left to be spilled, you were gifted the rest of Termina as your prize. 

And so started your reign as the Empress of Termina, with a mask of imprisoned evil in your lap on a throne seated atop of the highest point in the Stone Tower. 

It is said in whispers that the mask in your possession was made from an ancient evil. That it  was used in hexes and bewitching spells by a tribe long gone, but its power was too terrifying and it was sealed away. 

Its origin is one that can only be guessed, extrapolated from ancient texts more myth than fact, and legends told by mouth down a family line. That is to say, its origin is completely unknown.

But when you were given this mask, you were also given a knowledge of events you are far too young to have lived through.

(A story of gods and dragons, and a hunter: its slayer.)

But at this point you had ascended a bit beyond human for quite some time.

And in your hands was Majora’s Mask, the Great Calamity of Termina.

You weren’t known as a scholar for nothing; the history that eluded all was made known to you. And you studied everything, no stone unturned, all the way back to the beginning. To creation and before.

To tales of Golden Goddesses and Hylia and chasms between mortal and not.

And religion was tied to the world intrinsically, whether one prays to Hylia, the Golden Three, the Triforce, or to any of Demise’s puppets.

It was in a twist of irony, the religion of Termina and Hyrule swapped. 

After the Era of the Sky, until ten thousand years ago, Hyrule worshipped the Golden Three of creation and the Triforce: Nayru, Farore, and Din. When the Zonai descended from the skies, they were called gods by the people of the surface. After that, in the era where the Sheikah became the most advanced while the Royal Family were only powerful in name, Hylia became most prominent. 

On the other hand, before your rule, Termina spat at the worship of the Golden Three and instead prayed to the Goddess of Time, an aspect of Hylia. 

The Triforce was only depicted in vulgar or derogatory images. The Stone Tower Temple was made to reach the heavens so that Termineans could stand as equals to the gods and denounce them. 

The gods cursed the makers, and flipped the Temple so that the very top only led back down to the ground instead of to the heavens, making it an impossible loop. They broke off Termina from the rest of creation, a broken realm with a thousand curses upon its earth. Long after the makers died out, the Garo took control over the land the Stone Tower Temple was as in, which bordered Ikana’s land. 

This was a part of the kingdoms’ main quarrel, or at least you think it was. It was such a long time ago and muddied with such destruction of intel and property that the specifics of the history was forgotten. 

But once you were given the power a princess has, you led the reformation and called the worship of the Trio into Termina to be first and foremost. 

When you ascended to the throne, and when you ended the blasphemy, the Stone Tower Temple’s curse became yours to control. It was a safety and security measure that made it impossible for anyone to stage your death when you could just flip the gravity and layout of the Temple at the snap of your fingers. 

Thankfully, it only ever came to it a sparse few times over your reign. Radicals and terrorists were a universal constant, but the only time there was ever any actual danger was when the Majora’s Mask was taken from its safety in your Temple and possessing others. (But that was years before your reign, when you were a child in Ikana.)

Just like Termina, Hyrule was just about cursed to be in an endless cycle of hatred and violence and destruction. In fact, it was cursed; Demise had uttered it with his final moments, dooming the Spirit of the Hero and his own hatred in a repeating war of reincarnation.

Demise’s curse didn’t affect Termina; it had been cast out and cut off from the world proper for so long, it had been within the watchful eye and scrutiny of the gods. And Majora and the Demon Deity were blights enough, hatred and evil choking the land until Majora was slain and the Deity and Dragon both sealed.

You wonder to what extent, if any, Demise influenced the Kingdom of Lorule. 

Since its birth, Lorule was made to be a mirror inverse of Hyrule. It was separate from Hyrule, but not cast away and segregated from the gods’ creation. It had its own Triforce, destroyed to prevent wars. And it lost its core virtues, twisting Wisdom, Courage, and Power into Cunning, Compassion, and Coveting. 

Were they destined to be in a cycle of rebirth too?

Termina was. You’ve seen familiar faces, familiar names and personalities, again and again and again. Your own regent was Kafei, who was currently pining over the attention and affections of innkeeper Anju, who was very flattered and reciprocating his advances. It seemed to be a constant - the faces, or the personalities, or the souls, or the names, in this cycle of reincarnation.

You wonder why; Termina has only ever had one Hero, and that was because the Hero of Time was lured into an area where the separation between Hyrule and Termina was fragile. 

Are you a reincarnate? Are you the first of your person? 

You have all the time in the world to wonder. You’re a fledgling god. You’ve become immortal.