Author's Note: It's Tri Force Heroes time! This is a story that serves as a prequel/beginning re-write of Tri Force Heroes that attempts to put a little more stakes into the story of Hytopia's plight, and hopefully fleshes out the heroes that come to its aid. It's still going to have silliness and can be read by anyone, but that being said, fair warning for Styla's curse in this chapter being a little more dramatic than in the game. She is not having a fun time, but that's what the heroes are here to help with! Here's the first of the 3 chapters, starting with Red Link! Enjoy!
Masterlist | Chapter 2: Blue
(❤️Please comment and like directly from the og post in case Tumblr does weird things again! Tumblr reblogs are ok but never repost, thanks! <3)
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“Sam! Get your boots down here, boy, or I’m eating your breakfast!”
“AGH! Hang on! Hang on, I’m coming!”
Sam jammed his foot into his shoe, hopping on the other foot across the attic floor. He hated oversleeping! Why’d it have to be so easy to do? With a grunt, he slipped the shoe on without unbuckling it. He grinned, reveling in his small moment of victory, before his body began to tilt backwards.
Uh oh.
Sam’s arms windmilled around him, but he was too late to save himself. His backside hit the ground with a dull THUD!
“Ugh… ouch.”
A quiet purr trilled from the window. A tuxedo cat perched on the frame, licking its pelt and watching the boy with sparkling eyes. Sam could have sworn it was smirking.
“Sam? You ok up there?”
“F-Fine, Uncle!”
“Good! Because this raspberry toast looks miiiighty tasty!”
Sam gasped and scrambled to his feet. He stuck his tongue out at the cat as he passed, but pet it anyway, and thundered down the steps.
He ran into the kitchen just in time to snatch his piece of toast away from his uncle’s open mouth.
The man let out a bellowing laugh, ruffling his nephew’s auburn locks as the boy took a seat. “Now, if only you raced down those steps for work with that speed, then we’d really be in business!”
Sam grinned along with him, taking a big bite of the raspberry preserves. He closed his eyes as the tangy sweetness hit the roof of his mouth, and he hummed in pure bliss.
“Oh, you let him alone, ‘Master Tailor,’ he’s a growing boy! And he sure knows how to appreciate good cooking, doesn’t he?”
Sam’s aunt peeked over her shoulder from the wash basin and sent the boy a wink. He took another bite of toast, replying with an enthusiastic, “Mmmph-hmm!”
The Master Tailor chuckled at his wife. He waved his fork at her, “Now hang on just a minute there, Nettle. What am I going to tell my brother next time he comes to visit? ‘Congratulations! I tutored Sam like you wanted, your son’s now an apprentice jam-eater’?”
Sam snorted into his milk glass.
“Ted!”
“I’m just saying!” The tailor raised his hands. He smiled at Sam. “Ah, but you’re showing a lot of promise these days, lad. I wouldn’t be surprised if you grew up as skilled with the thread as your father! Sigh… Shame he took all that talent with him when he moved away. Hylians just don’t appreciate the craft like we do in Hytopia!”
Sam raised an eyebrow.
“Eh? Oh! Sorry, Sam, I mean most Hylians.” The Master Tailor reached over to tug on one of Sam’s half-pointy ears. “Your mother has impeccable taste.”
Sam shoved him away, grinning, “You bet she does!”
The Master Tailor laughed and gathered the rest of the breakfast dishes. “Well then, better make those parents of yours proud and get cleaned up for work! Your cousins are already setting up shop, and those clothes won’t mend themselves. Hop to it!”
“Yes Sir!” Sam saluted, and he wolfed down the rest of his breakfast.
* * *
The family worked late into the afternoon, buzzing around like a hive of busy bees. Threads spun, needles glistened, and the steady sounds of Castle Town life filtered in through the open windows of the shop. The Master Tailor’s wife tweaked one of Sam’s ears and snuck a pastry into his hand as she passed. Strawberries and cream danced in his mouth, and his cheeks turned rosy. Not a bad day, he hummed to himself. Not a bad day at all.
By the hour just before dinner, Sam and his cousins were well into their deliveries for the day. The promise of his aunt’s cooking and a relaxing game by the fireplace put a skip in his step, and when his last delivery was completed, his feet shuffled quickly over the cobbled streets of Hytopia. His home—for it was just as much his home as Hyrule—sparkled in the golden twilight. The scents of bread and stew curled out of every window, filling the beautifully dressed townsfolk with warmth and cheer. And as Sam gazed proudly at the magnificent, gleaming stones of Hytopia’s Castle, he thought, not for the first time, how lucky he was to live in such a place of peace.
Funny how easy it is to be proven wrong.
The ground tore itself from beneath Sam’s feet. Massive tremors from some far-off explosion shot into Sam as he hit the road, and white hot pain flashed up his shoulder. His vision blurred, his ears screamed, and in the distance, he could just make out the deep, pulsating, purple clouds that seeped from the highest tower of the castle.
Sam’s stomach dropped.
That was the Princess’s tower.
And every Hytopian, even apprentice tailors, could recognize the electric buzz that fizzled in the air.
Cursed magic.
The glittering purple smog frothing from the princess’s window was enough to fill in the rest of the gaps. They’d all grown up with the stories, they’d all been warned, but until now it had all seemed like a fairy tale.
It was a tale no longer. Their dear Princess Styla had met with a terrible fate, and now it was clear to all…
The Witch of the Drablands had returned.
“Hey! Hey you, boy!”
The thumping of boots pulled Sam from his stupor. A castle guard hurried to his side, skidding to a stop and towering over the young boy on the ground. In a flash, the mountain of a man pulled Sam to his feet and clamped his huge hand over his shoulder.
Sam struggled to get his words out of his mouth. It didn’t help that the mustached guard was shaking him. The buttons and regalia on the man’s uniform suggested high status, and that wild brown hair… This must be the Captain of the Guard, Sir Combsly! Sam realized.
Being star-stricken didn’t help him speak, though, so he settled for a frantic nod.
Sir Combsly stopped shaking him immediately. Before Sam could regain his composure, the captain spun him around and pushed him towards the tailor shop.
“There’s no time to explain, boy! For the sake of our dear princess, mayhaps all Hytopia, go and fetch your Master! Bring him here with his finest magic equipment; there’s simply no time to lose! Go! Be swift!”
The captain’s hands felt like a wave crashing onto Sam’s back, launching him down the street at an incredible pace. And for several minutes, Sam felt like he was flying. Flying home to his aunt and uncle, flying through his account of the awful events, and flying back again with his uncle in tow.
Together they burst through the castle doors on the heels of Sir Combsly. Any other day, Sam would marvel at the splendor of the elegant halls, but now, his surroundings were little more than background noise. His mind was buzzing. The princess… what had happened to the princess?!?
They followed Combsly up a twisting staircase, the air still fuzzy with the curse’s discharge. It sent Sam’s hair standing on end. The closer they grew to the top, the thicker the air became, and the harder it was to breathe. Up and up they went until finally, all at once, the distinct sound of wailing pierced the suffocating silence.
Sam froze. No… that wasn’t good! His head raced with millions of explanations for the awful weeping, each thought more awful than the last. The idea of anyone hurt enough to wail was enough to twist his heart, and with gasping breaths, he slammed his hands to his ears. It didn’t drown it out. Why was this happening? Why was he even here? What on earth did they need a tailor for and why was the sobbing so loud –!
“-am? Sam!”
Warm hands came to rest over his, cupping his face. Sam cracked open his teary eyes just enough to see his uncle leaning before him. Slowly, he curled Sam’s hands into his own and lowered them from the boy’s ears.
“Sam. I know it’s frightening. I’m frightened too, see?”
Sam gulped and looked at how his uncle held him. The Master Tailor’s hands were large and calloused from needles, dwarfing Sam’s in size and experience. They were everything Sam aspired to be… and they were trembling.
“U-Uncle?”
He squeezed his nephew’s hands tighter. “Show some courage, son. The princess needs us, and we can’t let her down, even with the unknown staring us in the face. I’ll be right here with you the whole time, ok?”
Sam drew in a breath, not quite settling his thumping heart, but he steeling his nerves, nonetheless. He gave a small nod, too overwhelmed for words. His uncle tousled his red locks and took his hand again, leading him up and into the distant darkness.
The guards wouldn’t let them in at first, but a stern word from the Master Tailor was all it took for the guards to open the ornate door that led to the princess’s room.
The sight before them made Sam want to curl into his uncle’s side and never let go.
Princess Styla was screaming, her face red and beaded with tears as she clawed at the thing ensnaring her entire body. The material was tight, rubbery, and suffocating, twisting around Styla’s waist like a tortuous corset and binding her joints like a straitjacket. So great was her panic, she fought for breath. She writhed along the rug, tearing, pulling, shouting for the thing to “come off already, please somebody help me help me I can’t breathe! Father, get it off of me!”
But it would not obey her. The black python of a garment only seemed to tighten around her, refusing to release its victim. It shimmered in something akin to sick laughter as the princess collapsed into her father’s arms, gulping and sobbing. Her coughs were wet, and her sobs fell to whispers as she gave into exhaustion.
The king’s bloodshot eyes met the Master Tailor’s. “Please,” he begged, clutching his only child to his chest. “Please help her…”
Sam could do little more than watch as his uncle worked what magic he could. It wasn’t very much, in the end. The curse was strong, too strong for even a magic-enhanced sewing kit to break. But, by the end of the process, he had loosened the elastic just enough for Styla to breathe normally, and Sam counted that as a victory, however small.
The king set his now-sleeping child on her bed. He moved to brush back her fine, golden locks, only for his hand to meet the clinging friction of a bald cap. He choked back a sob and kissed her face, the only part of her left uncovered.
“I… I wish I could do more, your Majesty,” the Master Tailor murmured. “This magic… its staying power is beyond anything I’ve seen—”
The king held up a hand, and silence filled the room. His teary eyes wandered to Sam, then to where Sam once again grasped his uncle’s hand, and finally, to the tailor himself.
“I know you’ve done everything in your power, Tailor. If your boy there had been in my daughter’s place, I know in my heart you would have treated him with as much thoroughness.” The king’s lip quivered a moment longer before he steeled himself. “The fault does not lie with you. Nay, it is that accursed witch that should feel the consequences of this deed!”
More tears streamed down the king’s face. His fists shook, and with new, burning resolve, he addressed those in the room.
“Let this be marked down into the night, and spread across the realms of Hytopia and beyond: My daughter is in danger, and a witch must be brought to her knees. I send for heroes. I send for Hyrule’s Legendary Hero and heroes just like him, three souls to bear the Power, Wisdom, and Courage it will take to heal my child and fell the Lady of the Drablands. There will be dangers, but handsome rewards, and time is of the essence. Evil cannot prevail! Send to me: the Tri Force Heroes!”
The king swept his hand through the air, gesturing to the royal scribe. “Go forth! Deliver my message to all the mail services and sign crafters! Have it written in the sky, if you have to, but hurry! So sayeth I, King Tuft of Hytopia!”
The scribe bowed and pushed his way out of the room. No sooner than he had done so, the king’s bravado drained away, like a coat slipping off a hanger. In that moment, King Tuft was not a mighty ruler. He was simply an exhausted father.
Tears had begun to stream down his face again. “Go,” he said to the remaining guards and the tailors, his voice hollow. “We shall send for more tailors in the morning—even for Madame Couture, if she proves herself trustworthy, I—just… just leave us. Please.”
Salt ran into the corner of Sam’s mouth, and only now did he register that he’d been crying, too. His heart ached for the miserable king and his poor, cursed daughter. And yet, he could do nothing for them but take up space in the room.
A gentle tug and a murmur from his uncle led him away from the scene, but he couldn’t stop seeing the horror on the princess’s face. The screaming, the gasping, the tears, black tights ensnaring her… it all formed a constant loop in his mind. Over and over and over again…
“Sam?”
The boy blinked, realizing that they’d already made it outside the castle’s front entrance. “H-huh?”
His uncle threaded his hand through his nephew’s hair. “Are you ok, boy?”
“I…” Was he? No. How was anyone supposed to be ok after that? “I-I…”
Quiet sobs began pouring from his chest in the place of words, and immediately his uncle engulfed him in a hug. No words were needed, the closeness was enough. Sam buried himself into his shirt, shivering and gasping as time finally caught up with him. His knees buckled, but the burly tailor easily hoisted him up onto his back, and without another word, he carried him home.
The night air was cool along Sam’s skin as they moved, but the sky was dark, for it was long past dinner. Sam didn’t care. For once, he’d properly lost his appetite.
A few stars peaked out from the clouds above. From his view over his uncle’s shoulder, Sam recognized the constellation. It was his favorite: three stars standing as brothers, joining together to form The Hero’s Belt. Power, Wisdom, Courage…
Heroes.
Tri Force… Heroes…
A thought began brewing in the back of Sam’s head. A crazy thought, maybe. But it grew. With every step his uncle took, Sam only became more determined. He wasn’t anyone special, just a tailor’s apprentice, but of all the legends his mother had told him about Hyrule’s Heroes, when had that ever been a problem? The Hero of Legend had been an apple farmer. The hero who’d just saved Hyrule Castle not many months ago? Apprentice blacksmith. Heck, even the Hero of Time, the great knight who’d fought to the death for Hyrule, had come out of literal nowhere.
Yes, Sam wasn’t a hero. But he could train.
Princess Styla’s face flashed through his thoughts again, her fair skin flushed and her gentle eyes full of terror, and Sam made up his mind. He would fight. He would become a hero. Tomorrow, he would gather his things and offer himself to the knights, beg them to teach him their ways, and learn to use the magic within him for more than just tailoring.
He would wait for the other two heroes with a sword held high. For the safety of his family, for his town, for the kingdoms of Hytopia and Hyrule, and most importantly, for the innocent girl trapped in evil’s skin, he would do more than simply stand around.
And if, in the end, the only reward he received was seeing the princess smile, and seeing her father hold her tight? Just as his uncle held him now?
That didn’t sound bad.
That didn’t sound bad at all.
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Masterlist | Chapter 2: Blue
Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!
(❤️Please comment and like directly from the og post in case Tumblr does weird things again! Tumblr reblogs are ok but never repost, thanks! <3)
Sir Combsly: "What's this? That face… Those ears… You there! I must speak with you!
"Pointy ears… Check!
"Sideburns… Check!
"And finally… hair parted to the side…
"CHECK! IT'S HIM!!"
If I had a nickel for every time I wrote a fic about linked universe in Hytopia, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Author’s Note: Thanks so much for following along with this adventure! It was really fun to expand the world. I hope you enjoy this chapter, where we pick back up with our very own Hero of Worlds! What a curious land he's ended up in...
Masterlist | Chapter 1: Red | Chapter 2: Blue
(💚Please comment and like directly from the og post in case Tumblr does weird things again! Tumblr reblogs are ok but never repost, thanks! <3)
>>><<<
Chapter 3: Green
It had been three weeks since Princess Zelda of Hyrule had received word from King Tuft, and in all that time, no cure for Styla had been found. The news was quick to spread across Hyrule, sending many towns into a terrible tizzy. Before she’d known it, Zelda had found herself calming her kingdom with one hand while waving down her Legendary Hero with the other.
It was a task easier said than done. The brand-new Hero of Worlds had taken up the title with gusto, dead set on seeing his duty through to the end. Refusing to lay his sword to rest after saving the kingdom, he’d left on a self-appointed quest to search for any lingering threats: large monsters, signs of Yuga or Ganon, and the like. It seemed like the young man never stopped moving these days.
By some miracle—and a bit of the good witch Irene’s magic—they’d finally tracked him down in the woods somewhere and filled him in. That had been little more than a week ago. Now, in the quiet of the castle library, Zelda sighed. Yet again, she’d sent her new friend off on a perilous journey with little to no warning. It was beginning to feel like a trend. Would they ever get the chance to talk about anything other than saving a kingdom?
Loneliness crept into her as she watched the trees sway in the wind outside the window. Cascading green glistened in the orange sun, reminding her all too well of a certain hat atop messy ginger hair. Sparkling blue eyes flashed across her mind.
“Another princess needs my help, huh?” he’d said to her, shooting Zelda a playful wink. “What is it with you girls and getting into trouble?”
“I’d like to see you run a kingdom and manage an entire castle, ‘Mr. Hero,’” she’d smiled right back. “Bonus points if you do it wearing a dress and heels.”
He’d laughed at that, and she’d grinned even wider. “The day I wear a dress is the day pigs fly, Zelda.” He held her gaze for a moment longer, but the sparkle in his eye soon died away. His face hardened, etched with determination and courage beyond his years.
“I’ll help her, Zelda, don’t worry.” He tightened his sword and shield.
“I’ll save them.”
Zelda inhaled, turning her eyes away from the window and her memories. The smells of leather and paper surrounded her like a blanket, the rows of books now her only companions.
“I know you will, Link,” she murmured, her voice echoing across the empty room. “You have all my faith. But please…
“Remember that you are not alone.”
* * *
“NEEIIIGHHH”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself, buddy.”
Link let out a slow, low whistle as he took in his surroundings. The Hytopian stable was beautiful, far fancier than anything he’d seen in Kakariko Village. The stalls were made from polished wood with twisting iron bars. The ceiling was high and the main walkway was spacious, and to say the carriages were anything less than dazzling would be a crime.
Link supposed the extravagance made sense. With how much the Hytopians relied on trade, they likely wanted to make a good impression on visitors. Still, if this was what the stable looked like, he could hardly imagine what the castle had to offer.
A velvet nose tousled his hair.
“Agh, hey, cut that out Apollo!” Link laughed. He pushed his bay stallion into one of the ornate stalls, sneaking him a shiny apple for incentive. Apollo happily obliged.
Link stroked his white striped nose. “Just because some people call me a carrot-top doesn’t mean I am one, bud.”
Apollo nickered softly.
“Hey, sir, we’re sending your luggage to the inn now, got everything you need?”
Link glanced behind himself at the stable hand. Beside the Hytopian was a beautifully adorned cart attached to a shiny palomino mare. The mare was as smartly dressed as the stable hand, both garbed in red and golden cloaks. It was an awfully fancy escort for the meager amount of traveling equipment Link had with him, but Zelda had warned him how fond the Hytopians were of garments. Link smiled. Personally, he found the culture change exciting.
“I’m all set,” he nodded to the stable hand. “Thanks for your help.”
The man glanced Link over again, hesitating. “You’re… sure?”
Linked checked his belt, pockets, and sword again. “Uh… yeah, all items accounted for!”
The Hytopian looked like he was ready to disagree, but he simply nodded. With a wave, he climbed aboard the luggage cart and steered it out the entrance.
Apollo whinnied to the beautiful mare as she passed his stall. She wasn’t so easily impressed. With a loud snort, she shot her ears back and stuck her snout high into the air.
Apollo pinned his ears back and huffed.
“Ha, not your type, huh?” Link laughed. “Be good for me, buddy, I’ll see you soon!”
Waving one last goodbye to his horse, the young traveler followed the cart and stepped out into the sunny streets of Hytopia.
It seemed that after a few weeks of fear, life had gone back to a careful normal in the kingdom. Several cats stretched lazily in windowsills, catching the afternoon sun. Citizens were even watering their gardens and chatting about the heat. Granted, there were less people out than he’d expected on such a nice day, but their small smiles were all he needed to see. A certain air of hope was growing among the town, despite what they’d been through.
Maybe they’d heard he was coming? Link waved cheerfully to a woman hanging her laundry. She waved back, adjusting the small baby sling on her chest as she did so.
Huh. No overreaction, then. To them, he was just another Hylian traveler.
Link nodded to himself. That made sense. It was likely they were just tired of being so gloomy. From what he had heard, the Hytopians were cheerful folk, if a little dramatic. Surely they wished to support their princess and show her that they wouldn’t be disheartened so easily. It was kind of inspiring.
However, as enamored as he was by the rich sights, smells, and colors surrounding him, Link began to notice an odd pattern. While no one seemed to recognize him, many had begun to stare. Particularly at his old tunic.
Link wasn’t usually one to care about his appearance. He was fine waltzing into Kakariko’s Milk Bar covered in mud and monster dust, as he’d done many times. But first impressions were important, and the attention his brown tunic was attracting was starting to itch at him. Subconsciously, he fiddled with a tattered corner. A few embroidered bear symbols stared back at him lamely.
Link started to walk faster. Ugh, I knew I should have washed my green tunic yesterday!
It wasn’t long before the castle came into full view. Surprisingly, even less people hung around its walls than in the outer town. The curse’s doing, Link suspected. Nevertheless, as a hero, he didn’t have the same reservations. He strode along the cobbled road to face his next duty head-on.
A large sign by the castle’s door caught his attention before he could march in. A glance confirmed it was a much simpler version of King Tuft’s summons, only with… far more gimmick.
Before Link could raise an eyebrow, something blue shot out from behind the sign.
“YOU!”
“HYAH!”
Link’s sword stopped inches from a boy’s nose.
“WOAH! Hey, watch where you’re pointing that thing! Are you crazy or what?”
Link snapped out of monster-fighting mode instantly. “Agh, sorry!” He quickly sheathed his sword. “Are you ok? You really shouldn’t sneak up on people with swords, kiddo, I thought you were a monster!”
The younger boy picked up his blue sunhat from the ground. He carefully straightened the feather in it and returned it to his head like it was a crown.
“Phew! No harm done, it seems,” he said. “But you could have scratched my cap, you know!”
Link was ready to point out that missing noses were far more serious than scratched hats, but the boy cut him off.
“Waiiit… don’t tell me,” he pointed a suspicious finger at Link, “You’re not Sam.”
Link started at him blankly. “What?”
“Nope, definitely not, then,” the boy muttered. “And you’re not the fishy guy either?”
“Fishy… guy?” Link repeated, at a loss. “I hope I don’t seem fishy…”
The boy waved his answer away. “No, no, no, he smelled, you don’t. Which can only mean…”
He grabbed his hat in a sudden burst of excitement. “You must be the last hero! The one fated to save our dear Princess Styla! Those ears are a dead giveaway.”
The tension in Link’s shoulders melted instantly. “Yeah, that’s me!” This kid must have just been testing him. “My name’s Link, of Hyrule.”
“A pleasure, Link!” The boy shook his hand. “Now, why does that sound familiar? Ah, anyway, I’ve got to say, those ears are rather chic compared to ours! Though in our defense, I suppose even simple things can make statements.”
The boy wiggled his round ears, oblivious to the fact that he’d stopped using them to listen.
“Speaking of simple,” he continued, “if I can speak plainly, its… well, your outfit, it’s… you know what I’m getting at, don’t you?”
Link scratched his head. “Uh… simple things… can be statements?” He felt like he was speaking a different language.
The boy grimaced a bit. “Er… in some cases. But hey, visit my employer, Madame Couture, when you get the chance. She can definitely teach you what you need to know, so don’t worry!”
The boy started skipping down the road towards a purple building in the distance. “We’re counting on you and the others to save Princess Styla! No pressure! See you later!”
Link watched him go, arms folded. Somehow, he now had more questions than answers.
“Eager boy, that one,” came a voice from behind him.
“AH!”
Metal clanged against metal, ricocheting off the walls of the courtyard.
“Ho ho ho! Those were some of the finest reflexes I’ve ever seen!”
Link looked up to see a giant man towering over him, sword drawn and locked with his own.
The man grinned. “Let’s put them to the test, shall we?”
In a blur, the mustached man untangled his blade and swiped to the side. Link spun and parried. The man tried a low swing, but Link jumped it, slicing down with gravity on his side.
His opponent parried the blow easily. His intense gaze studied Link as their swords met again.
“Pointy ears?”
CLANG!
“Sideburns?”
CLANG!
“And hair parted to the side?”
Link snuck his blade under the man’s and yanked upwards, sending the larger sword skittering across the road. He held his sword to the man’s chest.
The Hytopian’s face broke into a gigantic grin. “AH-HA! It is you!” The man slapped a hand on Link’s shoulder, nearly toppling him. “Your form could use some proper toning, but that power in your wrist is all yours! There’s no mistaking it, Tri Force Hero!”
Link straightened, putting his sword away for a second time. Sheepishly, he scratched his head. “Yeah… sorry about all that, Mr…”
“Ah! Allow me to introduce myself!” the man stood at his full, imposing height, his golden buttons and medals shining in the sunlight. “I am Sir Combsly, captain of the guard and the witch-hunting brigade!” A huge finger jutted into Link’s chest. “…And don’t you ever apologize for those instincts of yours again, young man. Reflexes like those can mean the difference between life and death on the battlefield. You’ll need those skills, be thankful for them, understand?”
Link was taken aback by Combsly’s sudden sincerity. “Y-yes sir.”
The captain nodded, and he studied Link again. “A Hylian swordsman… the fact that you’re here now speaks volumes.” His face turned serious. “I assume you’ve been briefed on the situation?”
Link nodded gravely. “The princess is cursed and a witch needs to be taught some manners.”
A heartily laugh bounced out of Sir Combsly. “Couldn’t have said it better myself!”
His gaze traveled over to a nearby fountain, where a statue gleamed at its center. Three figures stood atop each other’s shoulders, reaching into the sky as if the very sun were their destiny.
Combsly hummed. “There is a legend that’s been passed down through the ages in Hytopia. It says that whenever Hytopia is in peril, three young heroes will arise from nowhere and save the day. The King believes this legend with all of his kingly heart, which is why he formed this witch-hunting brigade in the first place. And you certainly fit the description, young man!”
He pumped his fist in the air. “Ears pointed skyward to hear the call to arms! Epic sideburns to inspire allies! And… erm… something or other about that last bit I can’t remember, but it was deeply moving!”
“Boooo! Long ears are for losers!”
Combsly’s mustache twitched. He whirled around to glare at a young boy lounging on the castle steps. The young Hytopian scowled back. His messy, fuchsia hair mostly covered his eyes, but there was no mistaking his jealousy.
Combsly waved his hand. “Hush boy, you had your chance! You still don’t meet the hero requirements!”
“Laaaame!”
The captain sighed. He turned back to Link. “Erm, in any case, you should start preparing! A fellow hero awaits you within the castle, but before I send you along, tell me, what was that name of yours again?”
“Oh, it’s Link, Sir.”
Combsly’s thick eyebrows shot up his face. “‘Link,’ huh?” After a moment, his mighty chuckle returned. “Ah, I see. Things are starting to make a good deal of sense. That’s a hero’s name if I’ve ever heard one, and I think we both know why.”
He gave the boy a smile. “I’ve seen many would-be heroes in my time. Too many. But none of them boasted such sharp battle senses and been able to look the part so perfectly! We’re happy to have you on our side, young man. Consider yourself enlisted!
Now it was Link’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Just like that?” He glanced around, half expecting another person to jump out and test him.
Combsly laughed. “Certainly! And as a token of our welcome, I will supply you with one firm handshake,” he grasped his hand, “and one Hero’s tunic. Or at least, the materials for one. Go on and follow that bouncy apprentice of Madame Couture’s and have her make it for you, and I’ll have someone waiting to meet you at the castle entrance. Mind your manners now, and be swift! You represent Hytopia now! GLORY AWAITS!”
“Glory can jump in a lake!”
Sir Combsly reeled to face the jealous boy.
“Say that again, you delinquent, and I’m banning you from those castle steps!”
“Try it, chum!”
Link chuckled as the captain marched over to the boy and easily dragged him away by the back of his collar.
“H-hey, hey! Not fair—Ow, watch the hair!”
“Hay is for horses, you scoundrel! Stop harassing our heroes!”
* * *
Half an hour later, a newly garbed Link was stepping into the entrance hall of the Hytopian Castle. He smoothed the ruffles out of his rich green tunic, admiring the way the velvet shone in the light. Embroidered leaves and vines crisscrossed the neck and sleeves. It was elegant… but simple, too. Link smiled. It reminded him of home.
He exhaled slowly. Home was a far better thing to think about than the reception he’d gotten at Madame Couture’s.
“What is THAT?!?” She’d practically exploded. “Those clothes! Who are you to wear something so utterly… THAT… in ze finest fashion outlet in all of Hytopia?”
Needless to say, it had taken a while to win the lady over. After several minutes of confirming that yes, he was the hero and no, his ears weren’t fake, Link and the Madame’s apprentice finally got him on her good side. Link wasn’t sure she’d entirely warmed up to him just yet, but the sight of her tailoring on a new customer made her happy, and he’d gotten the tunic, so he couldn’t complain.
His footsteps echoed in the grand, empty hall. The gold and cream-colored floor was waxed so well it might have been a mirror, reflecting the flickering candelabras that adorned the walls. Beautiful, deep red carpets and white marble columns surrounded him on all sides. So entranced was he by the warm colors that he failed to hear the quiet footfalls coming down a set of stairs.
“…Link?”
The green clad hero turned to his left, and nearly had a heart attack.
You’d think he’d be used to doubles of himself, at this point.
A boy his age had frozen on the stairs, staring at Link like he might disappear if he breathed too hard. His careful stance… his messy hair… If it weren’t for his freckles, he could have easily been a red-tinted Ravio—and, by extension—a red-tinted Link.
The boy with Link’s face clung desperately to the corners of his tunic. It was just as velvety as Link's, embroidered with golden wisps of flame. His eyes flickered to the castle entrance.
“A-are you… really him?” His voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Y-you’re here to stay? To join the fight?”
Link studied the crease in the boy's brow. He knew that look. He’d seen that cautious hope before, both in the mirror and under the lantern light of Lorule Castle.
The green-clad hero stood tall, squaring his shoulders. His smile was soft and warm, but his nod was firm. “I came here straight from Central Hyrule. That’s a pretty long way to travel for no reason.”
The boy let out a shaky breath. He gripped the marble banister. “You mean that?”
“It’s a hero’s job to protect people in need,” said Link, “and I heard there’s a princess in trouble. I’m here to help her, same as you.”
The boy made a noise somewhere between elation and relief, and flew down the steps to be at Link’s side. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.” He held out his hand. “I’m Sam. It’s so great to finally meet you, I knew you’d come!”
Link took his hand. “Sam? You mean, the ‘Sam that Madame Couture’s apprentice compared me to,’ that Sam?”
He laughed. “Yep, that would be me! Sorry, I’ve been trying to get him to remember that not every boy with pointed ears my age is me. We don’t regularly see a lot of Hylians here.”
“You say that like you’re not?”
Sam gestured to his pointy, but definitely shorter and rounder ears. “Only half, on my mother’s side, but it’s enough for the requirements. Otherwise, I’m a Hytopian through and through!”
Pointy ears… Combsly’s words slowly started resurfacing in Link’s mind.
“Hey, by the way, why are those requirements so… uh…” Link wasn’t sure how to phrase it.
“On the nose?” Sam rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Heh, sorry about that. It’s kinda tradition around here. The legends have always described the Tri Force Heroes like that, and that image is hard to break. Plus… when King Tuft issued the call for heroes, he did kind of say he wanted ‘Hyrule’s Legendary Hero and heroes just like him’. Before we knew it, there were messages all over the kingdom calling for people who looked like Link, the hero, regardless of if they could even hold a sword!”
Link couldn’t help the lout snort that came out of him, and quickly covered his mouth. "That sounds like a disaster!”
Sam beamed. “I know, right?! The knights have been weeding out candidates for weeks! At first it was just a few Hytopians with fake ears, but then the Hylian tourists came, meeting the requirements just to get inside the castle… ugh, it was a nightmare! A lot of them couldn’t even use a fire rod!”
Link wheezed, imagining the chaos a random traveler could incite with just a fire rod in a castle full of rugs and tapestries. The image of Sir Combsly running frantically after the false hero with a bucket of water was enough to plaster a big grin on his face.
“Can you even imagine,” Link laughed, “if I had changed my hairstyle before coming here?”
“Oh! Oh, they wouldn’t have even considered you, for sure!”
The boys’ laughter echoed across the hallway.
Sam wiped his eyes. “Ahhaha, all things considered, I got really lucky.”
“How?”
“Well, truth be told, I couldn’t really wield a sword either when I signed up.”
Link’s eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs. “Really?”
“Yeah. Believe it or not, before all this happened, I was a tailor’s apprentice.”
A small smile appeared on Link’s face. He put a thumb to his chest. “Blacksmith’s apprentice.”
Sam nodded quickly. “Yeah! I heard! My mother’s told me all sorts of stories!”
Link blinked. Sam’s mother was already looping his story in with those of the Links of the past? He knew he’d made something of a name in for himself in Hyrule, but the way Sam spoke of him… like he was already legendary…
This was sure going to take some getting used to.
“So, how’d you end up here, if you were working with tailors?” Link said, changing the subject.
Sam didn’t miss a beat. “I was there when the Princess was cursed. I wanted to help, and since I went to the knights immediately the next day, they agreed to train me. I became the first Tri Force Hero soon after that.” Sam turned and sent Link a wink. “Of course, it helped that I was already familiar with magic items. Because, unlike some people, I can use a fire rod.”
Link laughed again. He was starting to like this guy.
They wandered into another hall as they talked. Passing through an elegant archway, the boys entered a large, well-lit room. Rows of books and manuscripts overflowed from a massive shelf, dwarfed only by the enormous tapestry that hung against the back wall alcove. Sunlight streamed down from the skylight onto its threads. It was a map of far-off lands, unfamiliar to even an adventurer like Link. Below it, the polished floor gave way to three golden tiles making up a large triangle: the shape of the Triforce. All around them, stained glass windows of every hue spilled their colors along the ground.
“Wow,” Link breathed.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
“Where are we?”
“The Triforce Gateway,” Sam pointed to the Triforce symbol. “Those stones on the ground are more than just for show. They’re the only safe way for anyone to enter Hytopia’s Drablands.”
“And that map,” Link pointed, “I’m guessing that’s where we’re going?”
Sam nodded. “Yep. The Drablands, home-sweet-home to Lady Maud, the Dark Witch herself.”
Link’s eyes roamed across the landscape. It wasn’t quite to scale; the landmarks of an age long past were far larger than the mountains and rivers connecting them. Still, there was no mistaking that the Drablands were vast. The map was easily comparable to the size of Hyrule. Just thinking about all the places where monsters could be hiding—lurking in the depths of dungeons, waiting to pounce while the elements wore down their prey, sharpening their claws and blades in the light of a bonfire—it all stirred up very bad memories.
He glanced at Sam, who’d just learned to fight, whose big brown eyes now sparkled with innocent excitement. Link remembered how unprepared he’d been on his own adventure. How he’d dragged himself to fairy fountains with the last of his strength on more than one occasion, covered in bruises and blood. This kid had no idea what he was getting himself into. If Link had to guess, neither did the last hero that had yet to join their party.
His gut twisted. Link knew what to do in a pinch. He knew his limits by now; heck, he’d taken down a demon. He had no problems fighting a witch. And if it were just him, he’d be fine. But the idea of these new warriors following him into the fray… it didn’t sit right with him at all.
Maybe he could discuss it with Sam? Dissuade him? The tradition called for three heroes, but maybe… for their safety…
Grasping at straws, Link found the first loophole that came to mind and rolled with it.
“…Hey, Sam?”
“Yeah?”
Link sucked in a breath. The boy was staring at him with complete and earnest faith. A childlike grin split his face. Those stories… Link really was Sam’s hero, wasn’t he?
Link swallowed, trying to remind himself of his bad memories as he said, “…Isn’t all of this a lot for one curse?”
The fire that flared in Sam’s eyes shocked him.
Link shot up his hands before Sam could retort. “P-please, just hear me out! I’m not saying I won’t do it, but I know people with magic items to spare, and a blacksmith who enhances them by trade. Are you sure you don’t want me to send for someone, or try what I have already? I’ve freed people from paintings with a magical bracelet before. Surely, something like that could help you with this curse, and any others that might come after it?”
Sam stood very still, before visibly deflating. “Maybe, Link.” His eyes wandered to the tapestry map, gazing forlornly at the regions around Hytopia’s castle. “…But we’ve already tried the most powerful magic we have. I’m not against your idea, of course, we’ll try anything, but even then… this isn’t just about Princess Styla.”
Link came to stand beside him. “It’s not?”
“No,” Sam shook his head. “Things are more complicated than that. You see, the Lady has plagued this land for years. Hytopia may seem perfect and prosperous, and the central city is, due to all the craftsmen and trade. But my grandparents knew of a time where Hytopia was nearly as vast as Hyrule. That all changed when the witch appeared, seeking to shift the very land itself to fit her vision. At first, she just wanted to be adored, but no one gave her that satisfaction, so she cracked. She charmed hoards of monsters to be her loving slaves and pets, sicked them on the Hytopians whom she thought had betrayed her, and claimed nearly all of what once was their home. The Hytopians evacuated the conquered areas, moving to the central city or trying their luck in Hyrule. And as for the lands they left behind… well. There’s a reason we call them the Drablands.”
Link’s eyes widened, and he gazed at the map in a new light. Suddenly, the Drablands looked less like a dangerous wilderness, and more like the ruins of another kingdom he’d once traveled. The once-great structures of the past, now torn down and rebuilt into twisted echoes of their former glory, harkened back to Lorule so much that Link had to look away. To think, lands that had once been gleaming and prosperous not but two generations ago were now dens of monsters.
“There’s more,” said Sam, looking sadly at Link. “When the Lady cast that curse upon Styla, it was a display of her power. If she’s powerful enough to slip a curse like that into the castle from so far away, then what else could she do? What other sorts of curses, ones even worse than a cursed garment, could she execute? By making this move now, in Hytopia’s most prosperous year of trade, she’s readied her scissors to snip us away like a stray thread. And when all of Hytopia is under her heel? There’s only one place she can go next.”
Link drew in a breath. “Hyrule.”
“Exactly.”
Sam pulled the training sword from his back, holding it up to the light. The stained glass windows rained myriads of colors upon the shiny surface, reflecting their radiance into Sam’s eyes.
“This is why I’ve chosen to fight, Link. Of course I want to see Styla better, she’s one of the main reasons I signed up. But I have others. I want my family to be safe, not just the ones in Hytopia, but my parents in Hyrule, too. I can’t just stand still while that witch is out there, abusing her powers.”
He rotated the sword, and the ruby light of the window above him washed over his blade. It flickered in his eyes like a gemstone fire, but a stronger light was shining from within. Sam’s fist tightened around his sword’s hilt.
“Power is a gift that’s easy to misuse, just like fire,” he spoke slowly. “It can warm you, feed your family, help you tidy up loose ends. But when someone like Lady Maud gets her hands on it? Someone’s gonna get burned. So…”
Sam turned to Link, a determined smile stretched across his face. “I’m ready to fight fire with fire, if you are!”
Link’s chest filled with a familiar warmth. The buzz of adventure was tugging at them both, but in that moment, Link could see something deeper unearthed in Sam. It was the thing that had kept Link going so many months ago, despite injury or disappointment: Faith. Complete, utter conviction that they could make a difference, that they could and would succeed, because failure wasn’t an option.
I shouldn’t have doubted you, Sam.
His hand met the other boy’s shoulder, and he nodded firmly. “I was born ready. And so were you.”
Something small sparkled in the corner of Sam’s wide eyes. His grin grew wavy, but he stood his ground, and patted Link’s arm gently. “T-thanks.”
He held Link’s gaze for a moment longer before his head bent towards the floor.
“H-hey, are you ok?” Link asked.
Sam’s hair had fallen like a curtain over his face, but Link could still see him chewing his lip.
“Yeah… I’m fine,” he whispered, sounding very much the opposite. “It’s just… you’re here, and I thought that by now… surely by now he would have…”
“‘He’?” Link tilted his head to try and see Sam’s face. “‘He’ who?”
Sam opened his mouth to answer, but he never got the chance.
The double doors to the Triforce Gateway creaked loudly behind them.
A boy stepped out of the shadows, a hunter’s bow and fishing spear adorning his back. His new tunic, embroidered with golden waves, shimmered like an ocean of blue velvet. He lifted his stormy eyes to meet the others. His gaze flicked between Link and Sam… wavering, hesitant, unsure.
“…Is this where I sign up?”
“LAR!”
Sam was across the room before Link could blink, skidding to a halt in front of the newcomer. A whirlwind of emotions blazed across his face, but all that came out of his mouth was a tiny, "Y-you came back?!"
The boy in blue looked at the floor, his expression contorted with pain. "...I never should have left."
Meanwhile, Link was connecting several dots at once. He jogged over to the other heroes, pointing fervently at the newcomer, "Lar Lurelin."
Lar looked up. Sam blinked in surprise.
"You know each other?!?" gasped the young tailor.
"As of this morning," said Link, feeling a smile stretch across his face. "I had a feeling you were a little more than a ‘fisherman's son’."
Lar rubbed his head sheepishly. "You're the one who helped me see that, in the end."
Sam's eyes fell upon Link, welling with gratitude. He'd just taken a breath, likely preparing a prolonged 'hero-worthy' thank-you, when Lar's hand touched his shoulder. The tailor looked back.
"Sam..." Lar bit his lip in shame. “I’m so sorry.”
"You came back," Sam said again, more sure of himself this time.
“…Yeah.” Lar’s eyes were trailing the floor. “But, I don’t even know where to start. I don’t deserve—”
“I knew you would.”
Lar's head snapped up.
Sam let out a watery laugh. "Styla did, too. I'm not gonna lie it... hurt when you left, especially with everything going on... but..." his eyes were shining, "you're here now, and you're sorry, and I was pretty pushy earlier. B-but you came back anyway, and now, HA! this!" He gestured to Lar’s tunic, arms flailing. “You’re coming with us!”
Lar swayed a bit. This was obviously not the reaction he’d been expecting.
Link tried to give his double a reassuring grin. "The more, the merrier, as they say."
Lar made a valiant attempt to return the grin, but it never reached his eyes. It didn’t take long for his smile to fall away. His eyes grew serious. “That doesn’t change the fact that I ran out on you.”
Lar wandered further into the room. His steps were slow as he took in his surroundings, and he paused before the towering tapestry. A curtain of sapphire light fell against his face from the stained glass above. It poured into his eyes, swirling up deep blues once hidden under the foggy surface.
The fisherman hugged his arms to his chest. “I… kicked you and Styla while you were down, Sam, and I feel horrible about it. I was overwhelmed, and yeah, maybe you pushed, but for good reasons. Meanwhile I ran away instead of talking things through like a wiser person would have.”
Sam took a step towards him. “Lar—”
He held up a hand. The waterfall of blue washed over it, flowing down his sleeve and sinking into the depths of his tunic.
"I think... I feel a little smarter than I was before. I really didn't think I could help you—I still have my doubts, to be honest—but after what Link said? And after... what I did to you... I realized that I made a pretty rotten choice. I may not be the Hero of Worlds," he nodded to Link, "but I'm a decent shot with an arrow. I could at least be your marksman? Even from afar. And my dad's agreed to send food supplies our way, for the cause. S-so... if you'll have me... for you, and for my family, I'm willing to fight. To make up for my cowardice. I owe you and the princess a do-over."
Sam was practically bursting with relief. He let out an airy laugh, running over to Lar and taking him by the shoulder.
"Of course we'll have you!" the tailor beamed. "You're... not the only one at fault. I know I tend to put the cart before the horse. And I really should have listened to you better when we first met. But, even if our first impressions didn't go so well, what matters is that we’re here, now. Together.” He glanced between green and blue. “All three of us.”
Lar re-crossed his arms, pinning his shaking hands to his sides. “The… Tri Force Heroes?” he asked awkwardly.
The red-clad hero beamed. “The Tri Force Heroes.”
Link felt a bit like he’d walked into a mirror hall. Standing before him now, his new companions were the spitting image of a Link from seven months ago—in appearance and in action. They may have lacked some experience, but there was no questioning their drive.
The young hero’s hand came to rest on his sword. Slowly, he approached the map again, watching closely as it shifted with a new light. An emerald window cast its glow upon the threads like leaves upon a sunny day. The rocks and valleys became like forests, blooming with the color of life and hope. It beckoned him, as the call to adventure would always beckon him, for he was a child of Courage.
The back of his left hand itched. He didn’t need to look to see why. The familiar mark of the Triforce was glowing there, pulling him forward and granting its approval.
His ear twitched. Bated breaths whispered behind him; Sam and Lar were staring.
He turned around and smiled at them. They looked away quickly.
“You know,” he laughed, “it’s easy to brand people with the word ‘brave,’ if they're constantly leaping into action. Some people even think ‘brave’ only translates to ‘taking on stupid-crazy risks.’” Link rubbed the back of his head. “Heh, believe me. I’ve been there. But, you know what I think?”
Lar and Sam hung onto his every word.
“The bravest thing anyone can do is take the first step forward.”
Sure, it would be a long journey. There were bound to be bad days ahead, full of fear and injury. But somehow, the dread that had been sitting in Link’s gut since seeing the map was fading. The bright eyes following him into adventure would not be dimmed, not on his watch.
Link would keep those lights alive.
* * *
The next day, the three heroes were briefed on the location of their first quest. With little prompting from the wise master of the Triforce Gateway, the young men took their places atop the warp stones and prepared to leave.
Link looked down at the Triforce stones, thinking of Zelda. He sent a silent prayer to her to wait for him. He would return to her. He’d make Hyrule safe for her. He’d shoulder another burden for yet another kingdom… but this time…
He glanced at the determined faces of the others, sparkling with golden light as the warp magic kicked in.
This time he wouldn’t have to do it alone.
>>><<<
End of Fic!
Masterlist | Chapter 1: Red | Chapter 2: Blue
Author's Note: Hope you all enjoyed ^u^ These three will still be kicking around in doodles to come (and maybe even more stories), so this won't be the last you see of them! Let me know how you liked the tale, as well. I hope it gave a smile or two!
Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!
(💚Please comment and like directly from the og post in case Tumblr does weird things again! Tumblr reblogs are ok but never repost, thanks! <3)
