It's Dangerous to Go Alone
There was magic in the air.
Link had been patrolling the hills when he noticed it. There wasn’t much he could do, as a ghost, but Hyrule was in dire straights right now. Ganon—the legendary evil from his bedtime stories, back when Link was a child (and alive), had returned, and conquered the kingdom, and imprisoned the poor princess.
It was one of those times where Link was very frustrated with being dead. It could be worse—he could be without his magic, so at least he could some good—but there was very little a ghost could do in the grand scheme of things. So he did what he could; he patrolled hyrule, fought off malicious ghosts and spirits, and used his magic to scare off monsters.
But this—this new magic… he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
Link could practically taste it—strange and a little foreign, but somehow eagerly reaching out to whatever good wild magic still hung about in the weary, poisoned hills; trying to twine itself into the magic of the land.
Link narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the sensation. The foreign-but-not-entirely magic didn’t feel malicious on first sensing… but that could be deceiving.
He hadn’t noticed the prince was carrying an artefact steeped in black shadow magic, after all.
Still… there was something about this magic. Something bright, and brave.
Ah, well, Link was a ghost, so he had nothing better to do than check it out.
The trail of magic meandered and wandered, twisting back and forth throughout the hills of southern Hyrule. Link wondered if the owner had any access to a map, because there didn’t seem to be any particular destination in mind.
The trail did, however, find it’s way to an end…it disappeared into a little cave in the side of a hill.
Link eyed the cave—there was something of magic about it as well, something incredibly old and entirely different from the trail he had been following. Curiosity lifted its insatiable head within Link’s spirit, and he slipped into the entrance of the cave.
The source of the magic trail was there. Link stopped in his metaphysical tracks at the sight of him. It was a kid. At Link’s best guess, the kid was maybe twelve, though that was pushing it. He was small, but wiry and tough, with dirt on his nose and scuffed on the knees of his leggings and on his boots, a small bits of grass and foliage poking out of his fluffy brown curls. He was sitting cross legged on the ground, hands wrapped around his ankles, eyes sparkling with excitement as he narrated a story to his companion.
His companion was an old man—very old, Link guessed, and the source of the magic soaking the cave. He listened to the lad’s chatter solemnly, a kind smile on his face and an odd expression in his eyes.
The man spoke as the lad broke off to gather his thoughts. “Well? And are you going on this quest, young man?”
“Of course!” The lad spoke with out hesitation. “Old lady Impa asked me to. She said the princess is in trouble, that a monster’s keeping her trapped!” He let go of his ankles to clench his fists, lifting his head and straightening his shoulders. “I can’t stand by and not do anything!”
Determination and courage glittered in the boy’s eyes, and magic flared; strange and foreign as always, but here, with it right in front of the spirit, Link could see it for what it was. Wild, and brave, and good.
The lad was awfully young, four or so years younger than Link had been when he died, centuries ago. The journey ahead would be difficult, and hazardous, and all sorts of terrible things… but in that moment, Link believed that the lad would do it. That he’d do what Link couldn’t. Defeat the enemy. Save Hyrule.
Link only wished there was some way to help.
“Well then!” The old man said, and turned away to one side, rummaging in a chest that looked as old as the hills without. “Since you are resolved…”
He pulled out a bundle of oiled cloth and carefully unwrapped it. The boy leaned forward, eyes dancing in anticipation.
The last fold of the cloth fell away, revealing a sword.
“It’s dangerous to go alone,” The old man said, and then—he looked up, locked eyes with Link and winked.
Link’s mouth fell open. How—?
“Take this,” the old man said, and the boy did. He withdrew the blade and held it aloft, stabbing skyward—and Link felt something. And old, old magic—older than the boy’s, older than the old man’s, older than Link’s—
But it was a familiar magic—so familiar that it could have been his own.
Something was happening. Something Link didn’t understand yet—but he looked at the boy and his sword, and made a decision.
“Don’t worry.” Link said aloud, and at the sparkle in the old man's eyes, wondered if he was heard. “He won’t be alone.”
