Chapter Text
Link would say that he had a healthy sense of self preservation.
Zelda would say that was a bold-faced lie.
As he faced down a swirling purple tear in reality, he started to think Zelda may be right.
He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, before stepping into the dark.
He regretted that instantly.
The portal (he was going to call it a portal, he had absolutely no clue what else it could be) was horrible. It was ear-shattering loud and freakishly quiet at the same time, reality itself bending and tearing in a void of black, eternally.
And it was over in seconds. Link found himself unceremoniously dumped in a field, landing face-first in the soft green grass. He blinked, attempting to clear his vision, and blinked again.
He didn't recognise this place.
That was not good.
Could he be on the Surface? He certainly wasn't on Skyloft, the grass seemed to stretch on for miles. But it couldn't be the Surface, he hadn't seen this place during his quest.
Where was he?
Link stood up, brushed the grass off his pant and sighed. Unfamiliar lands, unlucky landings and probable danger?
Sounds like another quest.
Wonderful.
_____________________________________________________________________
Link was busy.
They hadn't been this busy since their quest, but for some reason every single plough, rake and farming tool in the village had rusted overnight. Being the only blacksmith near said village, Link had gotten a lot of orders in a single day. It might be a new record, they chuckled to themselves as they worked. 124 orders overnight. It was rather impressive.
So when they heard a knock at the front door of the shop, they were certainly not thrilled to lose time they could be using to forge new tools. But, Link (mostly) prided themselves on their customer service. So, despite their reluctance, they opened the door.
"Hello, welcome to the Four Elements Forge. If you're to order something, fill out an order form and I'll get to it soon. If not, how may I he-" their introductory spiel was cut short by them actually looking at the person standing by the door. They were the spitting image of the Hero of the Skies, eyes the same sky-blue shade as the portrait framed in the castle, outfit identical to the historical records Link had read a month or so ago. The man (hero? look-alike?) looked unbelievably lost, an awkward but friendly smile plastered on his face as he stared down Link, who was only now realising that their mouth was hanging open. They snapped it shut, schooling their expression of pure shock into a professional smile.
"Excuse me a moment, sir" they said, closing the door and immediately running for their pack. If they was one thing Link knew (and they knew a lot) it was that a famous hero look-alike showing up at your door probably meant something was going on. They did not want to be a part of anything right now, they were far too busy. So they did the logical thing. They booked it.
With their pack sitting on their back, they snuck out the backdoor, a smile growing.
They felt a little bad for the man waiting at the door. It must've taken a while to get to the forge, and for the look-alike to make a convincing replica of the Hero of the Skies clothes. Despite this, Link kept walking, further and further away from a possible quest. If he left the man alone, he would eventually leave, and the quest with him. And that would leave Link free to finish the unholy amount of work they had amassed. It was a foolproof plan!
That was until their feet failed to meet floor and they fell down into the void that had appeared beneath their feet.
Fuck.