I wasn't going to write anything specific for whumptober. But then this idea came to me and I thought, why not give myself a goal for this month?!
Content warnings for this fic: Manipulation, betrayal, injury detail (not in this chapter) emotional and physical hurt.
Overview: Dark tricks Wild into helping him get to Hyrule in order to resurrect Ganon. Not caring that Wild is going to relive some painful memories along the way.
🍁💚🍁💚🍁💚🍁💚🍁💚🍁💚🍁💚🍁💚
Wild shuddered despite the warmth of the campfire and the blanket pulled tight around his shoulders. The lowlands around the Hebra mountains were significantly warmer than the snow capped peaks, but the night air seemed to have borrowed some of their chill. He rubbed his hands together before stuffing them under his armpits.
A quick look at the sky told him dawn would soon be upon them and he could wake his brothers. Letting his gaze wander over their sleeping forms settled his heart. Nothing made him happier than when they were all together in moments of peace like this. Even when they awoke and the chaos of morning rituals began, their boisterous behaviour always made him happy.
Somewhere behind him, Wild heard a crow squawking. His head snapped around in an instant. It was still far too early for the dawn chorus to begin. Still, a single crow calling in the early hours wasn't that unusual. Yet, Wild felt the need to investigate.
Shedding his blanket and pushing to his feet, Wild moved silently over to Twilight. The rancher lay on his side, pelt pulled up to his ears.
“Hey, Twi,” Wild whispered, giving his brother a firm nudge.
Twilight groaned as he began to stir, though his eyes remained firmly shut.
“I'm just gonna go check something out in the woods. I'll be right back,” Wild muttered.
Without waiting for Twilight to respond, Wild hurried off into the trees, a pale streak of blue among the slowly dissipating shadows.
Morning light grew steadily stronger, filtering through the canopy above. As Wild walked, he could see little disturbance in the forest undergrowth. There were deer tracks and the tell tale signs of wild boar where they had been snuffling for roots. Other than that, he couldn't see what could have startled the crow.
Continuing to meander through the trees, Wild began to notice something else. Tuning out the sound of his own breathing and heartbeat, he listened to the wilderness around him. A brief gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead. The trees creaked as they swayed imperceptibly. He focused harder.
The sound of lightly shifting feet on hard dirt came from up ahead. It was so subtle that Wild was sure I wouldn't have heard it if he had brought the others.
Cautiously, he lifted his bow from his back and nocked an arrow to the string. Staying low and using the trees for cover as much as possible, Wild moved towards the sound. His steps were silent, months of experience gained from hunting kept him away from fallen twigs and dried leaves. Someone would have to look directly at him in order to see him coming at all.
Unless of course, they were expecting him.
“Ha ha ha!”
The ghostly laugh echoed around a small glade lined with large branching oak trees. The hairs on the back of Wild's neck rose, as did his bow. Turning in a small circle he waited for the flutter of crimson paper, or the spark of a magic circle to give his enemy away.
Another shrill laugh sounded behind him and he spun on the spot. A skinny Yiga footsoldier squatted in one of the trees, duplex bow raised and ready to fire. He shot off three arrows to Wild's one. The Yiga missed, and so did Wild. But only because the Yiga coward vanished before his arrow could meet its mark.
Wild hissed in frustration. He took a step backwards, breaking one of the Yiga arrows on the ground. It snapped neatly in two, drawing Wild's attention momentarily. But he continued to stare as he noticed something strange about the grass beneath his feet. Lines had been drawn upon the ground. Runes and circles similar to the ones which appeared when the Yiga teleported. Wild bent to investigate and poked one of the lines with a finger. The paint was still wet, meaning they had only drawn it very recently.
Wild took an experimental sniff of the substance on his finger, but recoiled instantly. The smell triggered a memory. It was the same acrid, vile scent of the black blooded monsters. The smell often lingered after the beasts had been dispatched and their bodies turned to ash. Did that mean that the Yiga had drawn this circle with black monster blood?
Panic flared through Wild's heart.
“Shit!” He exclaimed, turning to run back the way he had come.
This is a trap! His mind screamed at him.
When he turned however, he found his path blocked by two bladesmiths. However, they held no weapons, instead carrying strange pinkish plants cradled in their arms. Wild recognised them immediately. He'd thrown plenty of the muddle buds at his enemies in the past.
He was about to turn and try to escape in another direction, when something soft hit him in the side of the head. Wild coughed and sputtered as the air around his head was suddenly filled with spores. He tried to cover his mouth and nose but it was already too late. He could feel the sticky spores clinging to his throat as he breathed in.
The blademasters advanced, forcing Wild to stumble back into the circle. This time, as he crossed the outer edge, the lines began to glow a bright and vibrant red. Wild tried to lift his bow and shoot at the two soldiers advancing on him, but his arms were trembling and his aim went wide.
Another cloud of dusky pink spores exploded into Wild's vision as the Yiga threw their muddle buds at his feet. In the haze, Wild stumbled over his own feet and landed on his back in the middle of the circle. Choking and struggling to breathe, Wild sensed the tingle of dark magic all around him. The sections of the runes which touched his body seemed to burn like fire. He wanted to get up, to run and get reinforcements, but his body refused to comply.
Wild could already feel his mind slipping from his control. He began to forget where he was and what he had been doing before he got there. Wherever there was. Had he been with someone? He knew he was in danger, but for some reason he wasn't scared anymore. In fact, he couldn't remember what he was supposed to be scared of anyway.
Which is why when a pale gray face with burning red eyes waltzed into Wild's field of vision, he smiled stupidly to see another Hylian face. Dark loomed over his prize and great delight. His eyes flaring brightly amid his shadowed features.
“Right now the muddle bud pollen is doing its work, re-writing your thoughts and confusing your emotions. Normally, the effects are only temporary. However, with the Yiga’s rune magic, along with a few improvements of my own, I can make the effects a little more… permanent.”
Dark grinned down at his captive, spread helpless upon the forest floor. Moving slowly around the circle, Dark squatted above Wild's head and looked down into his dazed eyes.
“As unpleasant as this feels for you now, I promise you it will only get worse.”
Dark paused and grinned, now he had a captive audience, who was going to stop him from monologuing?
“This spell binds you to me. When I give you the order I have planned, you will follow it as though your life depends on it. And make no mistake, hero, it very much does. If you fail to bring me what I want, or someone convinces you to do otherwise, you will drink this vial of poison.”
Dark waved a small bottle of amber liquid in front of Wild's face, before slipping it into Wild's pouch. Wild could feel his consciousness slipping away. Though from the spell or the pollen closing off his airways, he wasn't sure. Above him, Dark's voice cut through what was left of his awareness.
“You will bring me the Hero of Hyrule. You will protect him at all costs and bring him to Hyrule Castle. - She is your only purpose, remember, Champion? Princess Zelda is the reason for your existence. You must protect her and return her safely to Hyrule Castle. Her life depends on it. Do you understand?”
As Dark spoke, his voice changed until it resembled the rumbling tones of King Rhoam.
Wild used what coherency he had left to offer a single nod of reply, before darkness claimed him and he was aware no more.
