Chapter Text
10 Years Ago — Era of Downfall
As he enters the dungeon’s final room, the four blades he has collected throughout the course of the dungeon swirl in the air above him. A second passes as they hang in the air. Then they descend, stabbing themselves into four matching colored tiles on the floor with reckless abandon.
Link steps back. He brings a trembling hand up to his face to shove strands of his bright pink hair away from his eyes. He backs away as the swords begin to glow, his winged boots nearly silent on the stone tiles.
His grip on the Tempered Master Sword tightens. He’s eleven years old already. He’s a big kid. He can do this.
Shadows coalesce in the top left corner of the ceiling, and a boy drops from it to land softly on the floor. The boy is wearing a green tunic and a determined expression, like Link— but it’s different. He’s different. His hair is straighter than Link’s, and his tunic is old and threadbare. His skin is gray and cracked, threaded through with veins of a sickly green that matches the faded shade of his tunic. Most disconcerting of all are his eyes; a soulless white that glints with scarlet evil.
The darkling in green draws the green sword from its colored tile on the ground and then, without warning, lunges at Link.
It’s a harrowing fight, but Link manages it. The darkling in green doesn’t scream as he falls and cracks into shadows that slither away, back up the walls, before vanishing into the ceiling.
But the fight isn’t over. Far from it. One by one, three others emerge from the ceiling and draw their respective blades before being defeated— a darkling in orange-ish red who sobs silently as he swings his sword in desperate circles; a darkling in teal-blue that slams his sword into the ground in silent fury that narrowly misses Link; a darkling in magenta-violet whose silence hides calculated firebolts that shoot past Link to maneuver him into traps.
One by one they face him, and one by one they fall, leaving their swords behind.
And as the boy in violet finally fades away, something lifts the four swords again and slams them together into one combined blade.
Or, at least, it tries to.
Instead, the swords seem incompatible, twisting apart at each contact despite invisible hands forcing them together. It’s as if the swords are covered in umbral residue; almost like whoever is there in the darkness remembers what the swords should look like when combined, but can’t quite get the pieces to fit together as they are now.
All at once, the effort is abandoned. The swords break apart and zoom past Link, back into the dungeon he came from.
Link steps forward to the end of the dungeon gingerly. There’s something very wrong still, Link can tell. The corruption isn’t gone from this room.
But he has defeated the boss; the four darklings. That’s what he came here to do. And maybe the darkness that was corrupting this palace will go away once he defeats the great demon, Ganon, that lies at the top of this very pyramid. Either way, those darklings have to be dead.
Link fiddles nervously with the hilt of the Tempered Master Sword as the dungeon warps him out.
He still has Ganon to face. Zelda’s counting on him.
The whole quadricolored dungeon quickly slips from Link’s mind in the wake of the ensuing struggle for the Triforce and multiple subsequent crises.
Only years later, with five more adventures under his belt, does Link— now called Legend by the other Heroes— put the pieces together and finally understand.
The Hero of the Four Sword from Legend’s childhood stories wasn’t called that because he was as strong as four men— instead, the hero could literally split into four people. Legend watches Four demonstrate his ability to the Chain and feels dread rise in him as he recognizes the four separate parts of his friend.
Those corrupted boys in the Palace of the Four Sword weren’t monsters or darks. Instead, they must have been what remained of the hero.
And if all that is true, then Legend— Legend killed Four.
Present Day
Legend freezes as he exits the portal, blinking in shock.
The Chain has landed in a wide open room with cracked walls and large, reptilian creatures wandering between carved pillars. At the end of the room stands an ornate set of double doors barred by a constantly shifting rope of lightning.
This… this is the Palace of the Four Sword.
Legend turns, ignoring the murmurs of the others as he surveys the dungeon further. His heart sinks. He never thought he’d come back here.
“Whose era is this?” Time asks.
Legend grimaces. “Mine.” His voice is short and clipped. “Exit’s that way.”
He begins towards it without waiting for the others to follow; doesn’t even stop to explain the reptilian creatures in the main hall or the rows of strange, animated metal spheres on chained leashes that chomp at the others as he nimbly dodges past them. Judging by the startled yelps he hears behind him, the others are managing the passage through to varying degrees of success.
But the foyer is not as he remembered. Where there was once a small yellow-ish fox creature who bargained passage for rupees, there is now a mountain of rocks.
The exit is caved in. Legend stares at it impassively as dread mounts within him.
“Great,” says Warriors. “A dead end. Thanks, vet, looks like we rushed that chain-chomp gauntlet for nothing.”
“Shut up, Wars, Legend probably knows the trick to it…?” Hyrule’s voice trails off as Legend shakes his head.
“Nah. Sorry to disappoint.” Legend works to keep the dread from his voice. “There used to be a door here.”
“Used to?” asks Warriors.
“Well, there isn’t anymore, is there?”
“We could make one!” Wild chimes in.
“How?” asks Sky, genuinely curious.
Wild grins and throws an arm around Sky’s shoulder as he gestures at the rubble, moving his other hand in a wide arc. “Unlimited explosives!” he whispers loudly.
Legend sighs. “Don’t try it, Wild. Carelessly blowing up the doorway could bring the whole damn pyramid down on us.”
This starts off a new set of mutterings among the Chain, eclipsed by Twilight wondering what type of animal the metal beasts might be classified as, and Sky asking Hyrule if a pyramid is a variation on a regular tetrahedral polygon and receiving a blank stare as an answer.
“Are we trapped here then, Legend?” Time asks.
“Looks like it.” Legend tries to keep his voice calm. Neutral. Focused.
“Usually, when you defeat the boss of a temple, it takes you to an exit,” Time muses. “Was that still the case with this one?”
“Yeah.”
Legend realizes his mistake just as the word leaves his mouth. He stiffens imperceptibly as the blood drains from his face. He shouldn’t have said that. He should have misdirected them.
No matter what, Legend can’t let the Chain into the final room of this dungeon. Whether the boss is truly dead or alive, entering that final room would be enough for anyone to figure out what he did.
But it’s too late. The others heard him. He can’t take it back now.
“So we defeat the dungeon boss again!” Wind says. “Easy!”
“Could be easy, could be real difficult.” Twilight shrugs. “We won't know ‘til Legend tells us.”
Legend grunts noncommittally.
Warriors frowns. “C’mon, vet, give us something to work with here. What’s the boss of this dungeon?”
“Yes, Legend, do explain. What exactly is this place?” asks the one person who has been silent until now.
Four’s voice is calm, as measured and steady as it is sharp, but he seems to already know that something is wrong. The carvings on the walls are faded, half-destroyed, but the story they depict is clear enough. Four knows. He’s staring right into Legend’s soul with eyes that flash the colors of his tunic, and Legend has to stop himself from shuddering.
Legend scuffs a foot, gaze dropping to the floor. “Welcome to the Palace of the Four Sword.”
Four quirks an eyebrow.
“They made you a palace!?” Wind shouts at Four, and Wild’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he echoes the sentiment.
Legend’s chest feels tight. He doesn’t want to explain. He doesn’t think he can. He’s been keeping this to himself ever since he met the smithy.
If they get portaled out before they can reach the end of the dungeon… maybe he won’t have to say anything. It’s a faint hope, but Legend has held on for less before. He keeps his silence.
But this is Four he’s competing with. Four's been looking around, and Legend can see that he’s noted the walls, and the doorways, and the fact that this area is overrun with monsters. Four has certainly noticed the four statues in the center and the large, lightning-barred door at the end.
“This isn’t exactly a palace, is it, Legend?” Four says, testing out the words. “It’s a tomb. My tomb.”
Wind’s mouth closes with an audible snap, and excitement morphs into horror.
“What!?”
“That’s what it is… this feeling.” Hyrule gestures vaguely as they pass through the corridor of chained metal spheres back to the main hall. “It feels like death.”
“But— I don’t see any…?” Wind doesn’t clarify what he doesn’t see, and no one asks, noticing the guilt that threads through his words. “I mean— I didn’t know! I’m so sorry, Four.”
Four lets out a short, sharp laugh and a light smile graces his expression. “Everyone has to die some time, I suppose.” He turns to the others, attempting reassurance.
“Don’t... don’t feel sad for me. I’m alive now.”
“And you’ll stay that way for quite a while longer, if we have anything to say about it,” Sky says, pulling Four gently into a side hug. Four leans gratefully into the touch, one hand absently reaching out to smooth over folds of the chosen hero’s sailcloth at his shoulder.
Four’s not that much younger than Legend, but he looks so much younger like this, leaning into their predecessor’s side with one of his small hands tangled in white fabric. Legend can’t help but compare Four’s visage now to the face he saw at the end of this dungeon nearly a decade ago. Legend notes the lines on Four’s brow, marks the very slight difference in age, hopes that what he saw wasn’t the age Four was when he…
Argh, Legend can’t fucking bear this, he has to tell Four what he found at the end of the dungeon, and—
—and he can’t. He can’t possibly tell Four what he did; what Four became. It might destroy Four. It might break the timeline, as if it hasn’t been ruptured enough. And Legend would lose the trust of half the Chain.
Damned if he does; damned if he doesn’t.
Legend bites the inside of his cheek to keep from spilling secrets and instead explains the rote mechanics of the dungeon, hoping to distract everyone, including himself.
“Alright. Listen. There are four parts to this dungeon, one through each of those doorways. Gotta collect all four swords to break the lightning barrier to the final door. There’s a boss at the end of each part. Anyone here fought a large four-legged reptile-ish thing with a huge mask? That’s the boss through the door over here— it’s weak to bombs and hammers.”
“I have!” Wind says, more grateful than anyone else for the distraction.
“Unlimited bombs…” Wild stage-whispers, and Twilight smacks him playfully on the head.
“Great,” Legend sighs. “How about a large moth thing with two illusion-clones? Weak to arrows; fire probably works too…”
They split into groups. It’s decided that Time and Sky will use their hookshots and swords to fight the strange jelly octopus at the end of the river, Wind and Wild will take on the masked beast with hammers and bombs, and Twilight and Hyrule will take on the giant moth with arrows and fire. Four waves off the fight easily, gaze still wandering around the large hall they’re in.
“If it’s as Legend says, you won’t need me to fight. I’d like to take the time to inspect these carvings properly, if that’s alright with you.”
If the distant sorrow in his voice wasn’t clear, the way Four’s fingers play with the little charm at the end of his hood is more than enough of a sign. Everyone is okay with letting Four sit this one out.
“Here— I’ll lend you this!” Wind takes his glowing blue pirate’s charm outside of his pocket and hands it to Four. “I’m going with Wild anyways, so it’s not like I’ll be able to use it. Just hurry over if we call, ‘kay?”
Four nods, thankful.
“And what if we need help,” Warriors asks, teasing.
Wind sticks his tongue out. “You’ll just have to suffer.”
Wars mimes clutching at his heart. “Ouch. Hear that, veteran? Our own brothers, traitors. Seems it’s just the two of us against the fourth pathway, then.”
Because, right— that leaves Legend and Warriors to tackle the fourth pathway; the fourth monster; the worst of them all.
Legend had had to put himself on this one. And he certainly couldn’t choose one of the kids to accompany him; he’s not putting Wind or Hyrule or— Nayru forbid— Wild through this. He’d carefully left off explaining the fourth boss, and he’s surprised no one has asked.
Ideally, he’d have liked to have Time or Sky on this fight with him. But the pathway they’ll be taking instead involves a long segment of water with spikes, cannons, and other obstacles, and Warriors can’t swim nearly as well as the old man with his Zora mask, nor hold his breath like Sky with the scale.
Warriors is the only choice to help Legend fight the fourth boss.
That doesn’t mean Legend has to like it.
Time’s voice echoes deep in the quiet of the cleared main hall. “Alright. Head off, everyone. Regroup here in an hour with the swords. If you take longer than that, we’ll launch an expedition to find you. Stay safe.”
Time is about to march off when Wind interrupts.
“But— wait! If we’re supposed to be collecting the Four Sword, can’t we just… use Four’s sword?”
Silence greets this observation.
Then more silence.
Then short, sharp exclamations, because yeah, that totally sounds like it could work, and how hadn’t they thought of that?
“Try it, Four,” says Time.
Legend pales. If Four’s sword can open the door, there’s nothing stopping the Chain from getting to the final room and seeing what awaits them there.
“It won’t work,” Legend says, hiding desperation.
Wild shrugs. “Might as well try.”
Four walks up to the lightning barrier. It’s just about at eye-level for him, much like it was for Legend when he came here for the first time at eleven years old.
“Do I just… slice it?”
“Looks like it, yeah,” says Twilight.
Legend jolts forward. How can he stop them without playing his cards; without fighting them; he thought he had more time—!
“N—“ Legend begins.
Four takes a deep breath, then brings his sword down on the ropes of lightning with all his might.
The lightning bends, but does not break.
Legend stops in his tracks, relief washing over him.
Wind deflates. “Awww.”
Four winces and shakes out his hand, but seems unharmed.
“I— told you it wouldn’t work,” Legend says, trying his best to sound calm. Hyrule shoots him a quizzically concerned glance, but Legend pays it no mind.
“This palace’s version of the Four Sword must contain a spell that my current version doesn’t,” Four says. “My Four Sword isn’t yet a key to this dungeon.”
Wild laughs a bit, light and airy. “Would’ve been cool if it worked though— great idea, Wind.”
“Thanks!”
“Can we head out now?” Twilight asks.
Time nods. “Go ahead. Remember, you have one hour.”
A chorus of “Got it!”s ring out, and the others leave.
Legend lets out a breath. An hour. He has an hour to retrieve the sword at the end of the fourth passage, as well as think of another way out. Leaving the sword isn’t an option. But under no circumstances can he allow the Chain to see that final boss.
Meanwhile, though, he’s going to need to borrow something if he wants to bring Warriors through this passageway with him. Warriors watches, bemused, as Legend asks Four for an item.
“Sure,” says Four, and hands over what looks like a large blue and white piece of pottery. “You know how to use it?”
“Yeah. Used it a lot on my sixth adventure.” Legend pulls Warriors towards the door on the top right, grimacing a bit as he hears Four mutter “sixth adventure” behind them.
The dungeon isn’t too hard— especially since Legend has completed it before. Instead of having to concentrate on staying alive, Legend lets himself enjoy Warriors’ sharp exclamations of surprise at what seem to Legend like rote elements of a dungeon. Legend is, of course, a dungeon veteran, and Warriors is their newest newbie.
It’s fucking hilarious, actually.
“Hey Legend? Why is it so dark in here— how am I supposed to— WHOA! What the hell? That… thing just sent me flying backwards; how— AARGH it’s those weird tubes that eat people’s shields what the hell there are like seven of them in this tiny little corridor and I can’t see a thing; Legend, HELP.”
They kill the like-likes in the dark with little to no difficulty on Legend’s part— though Legend certainly doesn’t bother to tell Warriors which way the bounce pads are. If the captain is so determined to head off in a random direction instead of simply following Legend, so be it.
The captain learns quickly, though, eventually stumbling along behind Legend with a large pixellated white rectangle on a stick held out in front of him. It produces some light, though not a lot.
What the hell even is it?
“Oh, this?” Warriors brandishes the object with a flourish. “It’s a candle I borrowed from Hyrule’s world. I used to have one just like it in the War of Ages.”
…Legend is going to have to speak to his successor about the state of his world’s light sources.
The next room is a set of platforms overlooking a large, deep, endless abyss.
Warriors steps out into the room boldly— then sees the gaping chasm in front of him and immediately jumps back, pressing himself against the wall. Platforms hover before them in a menacing manner, not moving, but laden with grinning skulls.
“Legend!?” Warriors calls out in a voice that he’d probably insist later was not a shriek. “How?”
Legend allows himself a smirk. “Watch and learn.”
He pulls out his bow and shoots a skull at the far end. As the skull crumbles into the void with the sound of nails on chalkboard, it reveals a small orange button on the far platform. Legend then turns and shoots another skull, clearing the way to a block by the door’s left side. Once those two specific skulls have disintegrated, he pulls out a large red cane. Waving it in front of him produces a giant orange cube, which Legend hefts with the help of his power gloves. He bends, then straightens and chucks the cube as hard as he can, waiting for it to slam against the far wall and depress the button on the platform below it.
The door opens.
The Captain is watching this series of events with the most humbly bewildered expression.
Legend has to resist a grin. “You haven’t got a hookshot, have you?”
“No,” Warriors admits.
“You’ll just have to borrow one of mine.”
Legend has Warriors practice pulling himself to the block in the center of the platform they’re already on. Once the captain is deemed ready, they return to face the gap leading to the block by the door.
“Just grab the block once you’re on the other side, okay?”
Warriors takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “Got it.”
“You’ll be fine. Good luck.”
Their hookshots thud into the block one after the other as the chain pulls them deftly to the other platform. Warriors stumbles on the landing, but recovers with a shaky grin and a surprising amount of poise.
“Made it.”
Legend looks at Warriors, standing there, proud of something as simple as hookshotting himself across a small gap— something Legend had done hundreds of times by the age of twelve. And yet, perhaps because he knows what awaits them at the end of this path, or perhaps because it’s Warriors, who is always so sure of himself that Legend wants to punch him in the face, and yet simultaneously convinced that he’s not good enough— Legend can’t bring himself to snark at the captain this time.
“You did well, captain.”
Warriors looks surprised, searching the statement thoroughly for a sign of sarcasm and coming up empty. He follows Legend into the next room with an air of suspicion, only to groan upon seeing another set of platforms.
“Another one?”
“This is the last room, I promise.”
Warriors readies his hookshot, prepared to jump to the block on the platform at the center of the room, but Legend holds a hand out, stopping him.
“Wait. Let me get the keese first.”
“Keese?” Warriors is way too loud for this, Legend thinks with a sigh. “I don’t see any— WAUGH.”
A few seconds of swordplay later, a captain with decidedly more tousled hair makes it to the central platform by hookshot.
“There’s no block on the other side, though,” Warriors observes. “How do we get across without anything to anchor our hookshots to?”
Legend doesn’t give the captain time to think. His final adventure, the wackiest of them all, has given him plenty of practice at getting other heroes where he wants them to be. With a grin, Legend pulls out the gust jar he borrowed from Four.
“Heads up, captain.”
“Heads up? Why? Are there more keese—”
Wars doesn’t get the chance to continue. Instead, a strong gust of wind bellows outward from Legend’s small jar, lifting Warriors straight off the center platform and tossing him into the far wall beside the door. Warriors lands with all the grace of an angry cuckoo, squawking his displeasure at a now openly chuckling Legend.
“Seriously, veteran? You could have warned me.”
“And deprive myself of the only source of entertainment I have in this place? Never.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Warriors huffs. “And in any case, we still have a problem, don’t we? How are you going to cross?”
Legend puts away the gust jar, but he doesn’t draw another item to replace it. Instead, he moves to the far side of the central platform, the side closest to Warriors, and turns away from the captain to face the block at the center of the room.
“This takes a bit of skill, but it worked the first time and it’ll work again.” Legend says, letting his smirk drop in favor of intense concentration. “Here I go.”
Legend takes a deep breath, activates his pegasus boots, and charges at the block, full speed, no holds barred. As he barrels towards it with his sword held out, he counts the timing out in his head. Three. Two. One.
Jump.
With a kick, Legend rams into the block, rebounds, and goes soaring backwards through the air, landing elegantly on the far platform beside Warriors as he skids to a stop with his back to the door. Warriors is gaping openly at him. Legend turns and takes a bow.
Warriors snorts. “Alright, veteran, I’ll admit it. That was impressive.”
“What was that?” Legend dramatically raises a hand to his ear. “Care to repeat yourself?”
Warriors grumbles incoherently as Legend laughs, then turns towards the door.
The door. The boss door.
Legend’s grin fades rapidly.
“Wait!”
He’s forgotten to warn Warriors about the boss.
“What is it, vet? Finally scared?” Warriors asks, teasing, and if Legend were honest, he would have answered in the affirmative.
Warriors seems to sense the hesitation. He shifts in a flash from joking to serious. A gentle hand comes to a stop above Legend’s shoulder, hovering until Legend places his palm over it and softly pushes it away.
“Legend? Is something wrong?”
“No, just…” He shouldn’t have waited until just now to tell Wars. He should have warned him earlier. “This boss— it’s not like the others.”
“A difficult fight, huh?”
“Sort of. But not because of the fight itself.” Legend lets out a sharp breath. “Blind the Bandit likes to get at you in other ways.”
Warriors crosses his arms. “What in the world do you mean?”
“It… Blind takes the form of someone you want to see. Anyone you’d be glad to see. And then, while you’re preoccupied…”
“Whoever I see in that room isn’t real— that’s what you’re saying, right?”
“Yeah. The fight itself isn’t that bad. Light breaks the illusion, and once it does, Blind’s real form is a fairly standard demonic creature. Just aim for the heads, whether they’re attached to the body or not.”
“Okay.” Warriors nods. “Okay. Okay, we can deal with that.” He takes a step towards the room and turns back. “Do you think he’ll look like the same person to both of us?”
Legend chuckles halfheartedly. “No idea. I’ve never brought anyone else here before. Thieves’ Town, where I first met him, has long since been reformed. And that fox that used to guard the entrance only allowed Heroes of Courage into the Palace of the Four Sword.”
“Guess we’ll find out soon, huh.” Warriors tries to hide a shudder, and Legend can only imagine the people he’s preparing himself to see.
They walk into the room together.
It’s just as Legend remembers it from ten years ago. A plain, nondescript room bathed in darkness. A figure sitting in the center. A flash of red.
The first time he encountered Blind, the thief had been disguised as the Fourth Maiden, locked in jail and begging for help.
The second time, Blind had reached into his memory and turned into Legend’s uncle, bleeding out on the floor in front of him. By that point, the jig had been up. Legend knew that wasn’t his uncle. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to launch a preemptive attack, couldn’t bring himself to draw his sword while his beloved uncle writhed in pain. And he’d paid the price for it; hesitating just a second too long while Blind reverted back to his original form to attack. He’d let the thief get a hit in on his shoulder that still ached to this day.
Now, the third time he’s encountering Blind, Legend has more experience. More memories to pull from. More wounds to poke and prod at.
In retrospect, he shouldn’t be surprised that Blind chooses to disguise himself as her.
A simple blue dress flows ethereally around her in a nonexistent breeze. Her hair falls perfectly in a sunset curtain around her pale neck, the subtle waves of it framing her shoulders, and her bangs are lowered just enough to shade clear azure eyes. A fresh, bright hibiscus rests daintily behind one ear as she sways in place, humming a tune Legend knows in the depths of his soul.
Legend freezes.
Her name chokes in his throat. He should have been prepared, but he’s not, and she walks forward while he stands frozen by the thought of what could have been. He wants to call out to her, but he can’t move; can barely think—
“Marin?”
Legend whips around.
It wasn’t him who said that.
It was Warriors.