A/N: Hello everybody!! This is a story that I've had in the works for a while. It was initially outlined as a birthday gift for my good friend Quasar, but I've recently turned it into a multi-chapter fic.

Now, since today (September the 6th) is my own birthday, I've decided to keep with my birthday tradition of updating or posting a story on said day! :D So here you are! One fresh-off the GDocs story!

Some of you may already know that I have many different Wilds. I call the ones that stand out the most my 'Unique Wilds'. This is one of them. I give each Unique Wild a personal nickname (Arcadius for Hero's Spirit Wild, for example, or Aetherius for *Soul of Steel*'s Wild).

I proudly introduce you my Foursword Wild—Prism.

~~~

Link made a frustrated noise as he clenched a smoldering fist, eyes narrowing at the Sword that Seals the Darkness, which remained stubbornly in its pedestal. He startled lightly when he felt something lightly tap his face. He turned to see a korok sitting on his shoulder, staring at him with what he could only describe as a pained expression.

"You'll get there." The korok—Maple, he'd named this one—spoke gently. "We believe in you, Link!"

The supposed hero sighed. "I just wish..." He glanced down at the palm of his hand, and the new burn that angrily stared back at him. Suddenly, the sight of the sword was painful. Like it was a reminder of everything he'd lost—everything he'd failed to protect. Though it was only a sword, he swore it was judging him. And he felt like he couldn't match up to its expectations.

Abruptly, Link spun on his heel, stalking into the woods. He ignored Maple's quiet shout as the little korok clung to his shoulder. He needed to get away. He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't stay in that grove any longer.

"Link?" Maple's voice was right in his ear.

"I just... need to go for a walk." He finally said.

The korok's stare was unnervingly steady for a moment, before a small rattle and a lightening of the weight on his shoulder told him that Maple had opted to hover in the air with a small leaf. "Only the Children of the Forest and the Spirits of the Dead can navigate these woods without getting lost." Maple reminded him.

"And those who become lost and meet their end in the mists will become creatures of the woods." Link quoted back. "I know. You've warned me before." He flashed Maple a smile. "Besides, I'll always have you guys to help guide me back."

Maple sighed fondly. "You died a century ago. Because of that, you feel a lot like a Spirit, so you have more freedom in this place than hylians normally have. It's also why you can see us so clearly. But please be careful. If even you perish in these woods..."

"I'll be careful." Link gently poked the korok on the nose, earning himself a little giggle. "And if I get myself too lost and you guys can't find me, I can always teleport away." He tapped his slate.

Maple seemed to brighten at that reminder. "Yahaha! Then have fun on your exploration!"

Link smiled softly before continuing forward on his own. The eerie stillness of the forest rang with a silence that he couldn't find anywhere else in Hyrule. The mists swirled on a silent breeze as the musky scent of undergrowth accosted his nostrils. His footsteps—quiet though they were—echoed and bounced off the trees and stones of the Lost Woods, making it sound as if someone was following him.

He wasn't sure how long he'd wandered around for. It could've been minutes, it could've been hours. But the point remained that it had been long enough for Link to get entirely lost and turned around. Normally, by this point, a korok would've popped out of nowhere with a laugh and guided him back to the edge of the forest or the Great Deku Tree's grove—whichever was closer.

But there'd been no sign of any koroks. Had he finally wandered far enough into the forest that they couldn't find him? His hand hovered over his slate. Well, he'd certainly never been in an area that looked like this. He'd found the bogs and swamps of the Lost Woods, but up ahead was what looked like a stream. It seemed to run with fresh clear water, and he tilted his head curiously, hand falling away from its earlier position.

A little more exploration wouldn't hurt. It wasn't like he had anywhere to be at the moment anyways. He'd calmed the Divine Beasts months ago, though he'd yet to defeat the Blights. He'd re-challenged Medoh just last week—Teba would skewer him if he found out Link had challenged another Divine Beast so soon after the last one.

He chuckled softly to himself. Mind made up, Link started walking along the stream, following the flow of the water. It would either lead him out of the woods or to an entirely new undiscovered area. Either way it was a win—and would be the first time he'd successfully navigated the Lost Woods alone in any capacity.

The more he walked, the thinner the mists became. At first he thought that perhaps he was nearing the exit of the woods, but the trees were as thick as ever. More than that, the trees had, at some point during his walk, started to look less like bare branches and angry faces and more like actual trees.

Lush green forest now surrounded him. Grass and vibrant greenery grew beneath his feet as birds flitted from one branch to another, singing their songs proudly for the world to hear. Lizards scampered up trunks and startled squirrels scurried away from his much softer footfalls.

If Link didn't know any better, he'd swear he'd somehow exited the Woods without realizing it. But the iconic mists still curled around the trunks, snaking through ferns and wrapping around his ankles. Every step left a little swirl of white behind him as more mist scurried to cover his tracks.

There was something heavy in the air here, like Malice on the nights of a Blood Moon. But instead of the familiar burning sensation of Malice, the thick heavy something in the air was invigorating. It was sweet like honey and soft like the wind on a warm summer's day. A silent song that twirled around him, carried by the birds and the winds and all that breathed in the land.

Magic. He realized suddenly. He was feeling magic—something Sidon had once tried to explain to him. Link hadn't understood it at the time, because he'd never felt it so prominently before, but now he was fairly sure he could understand what Sidon was talking about. It felt... indescribable.

"Where... am I?" He whispered, voice causing a few animals to startle lightly. One bird fluttered away in a light panic, narrowly avoiding an old worn down stone wall before disappearing into the underbrush. But Link's eyes stayed on the wall.

Curious despite himself, he clamored up over the crumbling structure and paused when he saw what was on the other side. Until this moment, he'd never seen any signs of people having been in the Lost Woods. Sure, there was that Shrine in the Great Deku Tree's grove, but Link liked to think that it was because the hero from ten thousand years ago guided them there. But other than that, there'd been no sign that anyone else had ever set foot within.

So then why was there an entire structure crumbling away in this strange magic pocket of the Lost Woods? He leapt down from the outer wall, using his paraglider on reflex to break his fall and land silently in the grass below. Mice scurried beneath the flowers as he walked, careful to avoid crushing any of the flora. He didn't put it past Magda to suddenly appear and beat him within an inch of his life even out in the middle of the Lost Woods.

Once he'd maneuvered around the brightly colored flora, he found himself standing at the doors of the strange building. It vaguely reminded him of the Temple of Time in the way it was built. Was this place an old abandoned Temple too?

His eyes traced the designs etched into the stone doors—images of hylians and small mouse-like creatures with feathers for tails decorated both doors. The left door showed the small mouse-like creatures offering up a sword to a rather small child-like hylian, while the door on the right showed four hylians standing with the same sword in hand.

There seemed to be some kind of writing beneath, but it wasn't anything like the languages he was familiar with. And Link was at least passable at every language spoken or written in Hyrule. Beyond that, it was so worn away with time that he couldn't be sure all of it was there. He was surprised the images survived as well as they did.

He tilted his head this way and that, but he ultimately decided to snap a few pictures with his slate and bring them to Purah later. Maybe the Sheikah researcher could help him figure out what this place was. Though he wasn't sure he could find his way back if she asked.

With a shrug, Link pushed the doors open just enough to slip through. The first hallway was surprisingly bright. Sunlight fell through broken shards of stained glass as birds nested in the rafters. The soft chirping sounds of some keese had his hand resting on the pommel of his blade just in case they decided to feel territorial and attack.

He was trying to keep his eyes peeled for any chests or random items laying about, but instead he ended up stumbling upon another door. One that led to a staircase underground. Curious despite himself, he pushed forth, using a torch for light.

He was nearly caught off-guard when a lizalfos attacked him out of nowhere, but he'd survived as long as he had for a reason. Once the monster was dealt with and the loot was collected, he pushed on.

It was a maze, he realized quickly. It twisted this way and that, and every now and again there'd be a few etchings in the walls that reminded him of an element. Normally Link would be all for a good maze challenge. He adored puzzles. But there was something frustrating about this one because there was a puzzle here, he knew there was, but he couldn't figure it out.

He was rather surprised when he stumbled upon the end of the maze. Something about it irked him. It was too easy, too simple. Where was the puzzle? Had he just imagined it?

He shook himself and pushed on the doors to open them, only to find that they wouldn't budge. He tried again, attempting to push, pull, twist, slide, something. But it was all in vain. Finally, he noticed four little grooves in the door—each in the shape of the strange elements he'd seen carved into the walls of the maze.

Did he have to find four items that fit into those slots to make the doors open? He found a smile creeping up his face. So there was a puzzle here! A small laugh bubbled up in his chest as he spun about, marking his current location on his slate so he could find his way back later (though the maze did not show up on his Sheikah device).

Oddly enough, there was no hint of Sheikah influence in the maze at all. None in the building thus far, now that he was thinking about it. Was this place older than the Sheikah's Golden Age?

No, surely not! That was ten thousand years ago! Anything from back then would've been dust!

But, his mind whispered to him, the Sword that Seals the Darkness is even older.

He paused mid-step. Was there some kind of magical artifact here keeping this place from crumbling under the fingers of time? The thought had his grin widening and his feet moving faster than before. If there was a powerful magical artifact here, maybe it could help him fight off the Blights! Maybe he could finally right some of his mistakes.

When he reached the first marker on the wall, he wasn't entirely sure what to do. It was a circle with three triangles attached to the top. It almost looked like some kind of footprint. Was he supposed to kick it?

Shrugging, he stepped back a few paces and ran at the wall. His foot connected with a painful jolt from his sole to his knee, and surprisingly the entire wall gave beneath his weight. It swung on hinges like a hidden door, and Link suddenly found himself tumbling painfully down a thankfully short flight of stairs.

After a moment of grumbling to himself and rubbing his aching skull and throbbing ankle, he hauled himself to his feet, making a mental note to just try pushing it next time. The room was actually rather warm, now that he was thinking about it. Almost like the caves near Death Mountain. He idly hoped he didn't need his Flamebreaker armor, because it was big and clunky and hard to fight in.

As he rounded the bend, he stared at the room before him. There was fire. Honest to Din fire coming out of little spouts in the wall at timed intervals. A few looked like he'd need to flip some kind of switch to shut off, and he could spy another iron door on the far end of the room.

With a light scowl, Link equipped a non-flammable shield and some heavier fire-safe armor. "Okay." He took a breath. "Let's do this."

~~~

Link stared at the oddly glowing red gem. It radiated heat like a furnace, but didn't burn his hand. It'd been at the end of the fire-themed puzzles, and he couldn't help but wonder if the other three items he needed to open the doors were also gems.

He hummed a nameless tune under his breath as he traced his steps back to the door. Maze or not, Link had an incredible memory. Perhaps it was because he couldn't remember anything from a hundred years ago, but he had an almost flawless memory now. Sidon theorized that it was because he was afraid to forget again.

Purah once talked about something called an eidetic memory—something Link was adamant he did not have. He still forgot lots of stuff—like just last week when he forgot an ingredient in his stew and it'd turned out all wrong—but his memory was still apparently better than most.

He couldn't help but find a certain irony in that.

The door came into view fairly quickly, and Link lined up the red gem and pushed it in. The door glowed as it absorbed the stone, and his ears twitched when he heard something heavy grinding against stone and aged metal.

For a moment, he thought about pulling out his Magnesis Rune and forcing the doors open, but ultimately decided against it. This place didn't seem to be under Sheikah influence. He wanted to do it right. And if one of the gems ended up being missing, he could use the Rune as a workaround.

That thought in mind, he spun on his heel and marched towards the next symbol.

~~~

Finally, all four gems were in place. Link grinned, still favoring his left ankle from that initial kick to the door of the Fire Puzzle room. The other rooms weren't that bad, honestly. The wind-themed room was simple once he thought to utilize his paraglider—it was filled with switches, fans and updrafts. The water room was really fun to do, but Link always loved an excuse to wear his Zora Armor.

It was the earth-themed room that'd given him the most trouble, if only because of his sprained ankle—something he was certain had worsened during the course of his navigation of said room. It'd involved a lot of climbing vines and dropping down holes. There were also massive spiders with skull designs on their backs. Link wasn't an arachnophobe—something Paya had only explained because she was one—but those spiders were creepy. He was, however, excited to find out what kinds of elixirs he could make with their spoils.

He grinned when he heard the metal gears hidden within the door groan. Stone and metal scraped against one another as dust was shaken from the edges of the doorway. A crack of light split from the middle of the doors as they slowly swung open before him. Link appreciated the people who'd made them; they may not have been Sheikah, but their creation had lasted just as long—maybe longer!

He stepped inside the room. It was large—large enough that he could probably bring King Dorephan in here if he could fit the guy through the doors and the walls of the maze. There was an empty pedestal in the middle of the room—something that looked like a sword should be there—and four statues in each corner. Each statue had a glimmering gem set into their shields that matched the stones Link had needed to unlock the door, and the sword they each held was markedly similar. Though each one had a different colored gemstone in the pommel of their stone blades.

Link would've stopped to appreciate the statues and the magnificent carvings along the walls that'd faded with time beyond recognition, but there was something... off. A taint in the air. Something that had the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising in warning.

Link cautiously drew his blade, waiting. His eyes scanned the shadows of the room, mind playing tricks on him when he thought he saw movement. His ears strained to hear anything out of place, but all was still. There was nothing that should've made his instincts rear up like a frightened horse. And then he heard footsteps.

Link's eyes instantly focused on the figure that stepped out from behind the pedestal. Figures, he mentally corrected. There were four of them. Each one appeared to be modeled after the four statues in the corner, because they had the same sword in their hands.

They also all looked exactly the same. Link had seen twins before, but could twins come in sets of four? Each one had skin that looked oddly dark and pale at the same time. Dark in a manner that didn't seem to be from the warmth of the sun, but tainted by the shadows of the night. Perhaps their most striking feature was that their eyes were red. It was eerily similar to Malice, but felt inherently different.

Each one was dressed in clothing of various shades of grey and black. Between their clothes and their physical features, it was as if all color aside from their eyes had been drained away. Something about the entire situation sent a strong shiver up Link's spine.

One of them stepped forward, holding a monochrome sword out before them in an unmistakable gesture of challenge. Link took a breath and stepped forward to accept. Something in the air sang at his actions—like he was being tested somehow and had made the right decision.

The red-eyed figure seemed to shift for a moment—facial features melding from that of a child to that of a hardened fighter before settling for something in the middle—and sprang forth.

Link barely blocked the first strike, bringing up his shield. The strength behind the blade shocked him more than he'd like to admit. For someone with such a small stature, he packed the strength of a moblin behind each blow. The hero grit his teeth and shoved his shield against the blade, surprised when the red-eyed being stepped back with the shove, causing Link to tip off-balance.

He quickly rolled with his momentum, feeling the swish of a blade right above his eartips, and sprang up on the balls of his feet. He spun about, catching the blade with the edge of his shield and lashing out with his own sword. He was rewarded with a soft yelp from his foe, and went for another attack.

He spun away from the thrust from his enemy, grinning as he felt time slow down around him, and slashed again. This cut was deeper. Link, who had yet to fight a hylianoid enemy, had expected his foe to step back and admit defeat. Because of this, he didn't dodge the next strike.

Pain lanced up and down his bicep as the blade bit into his shield-arm. Crimson splattered to the floor, contrasting with the strange black substance that had flowed from his enemy's wounds.

"What?!" Link backpedaled quickly, staring at his foe with wide eyes. "H-hey, if you keep fighting with that wound, you'll die!"

The figure didn't say a word—didn't slow down. His enemy kept attacking him with increasing ferocity. Link didn't have the time to think, he didn't have the time to hold in his instincts—borne from fighting corrupted monsters under the light of a Blood Moon.

When his sword pierced his enemy, Link froze. His eyes were blown wide as the figure's sword clattered to the ground with a deafening clang. Then, with a small smile that seemed more relieved than angry, the figure broke apart into tendrils of black smoke, vanishing into the air.

Had he just killed someone?

Sure it was self-defense. And sure, that person had vanished into smoke similar to monsters, but the thought remained at the forefront of his mind. That could've been a person. And he had just killed them. Something hot and sickening welled up in his stomach, but he didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it as the next figure stepped forth.

This one stared at him for a long while, expression settling into something of neutral approval. The figure's red eyes caught the light for a moment and shimmered with a strange green color before returning to their usual shade.

"Who are you?" Link tried to ask, but the red-green-eyed figure merely raised his sword just like the other one. Link took a shuddering breath. "I'm not going to get out of this by making you admit defeat, am I?"

The figure grinned, shockingly white teeth standing out against monochrome skin. Those red eyes glinted green again, and Link distantly wondered if each one had a unique color at one time. Perhaps they had been brothers before this strange taint had washed away their color, leaving them all with red eyes and white hair and grey skin.

Before Link had the time to fully collect himself, the green one attacked. His movements were similar to the first one's, but they held a more confident feeling behind each strike. Where the first enemy had hesitated, this one plowed forth. Link had to act on his own instincts to dodge attacks, praying that he reacted quickly enough to avoid any further injuries.

He went to dodge another swipe when his ankle—the same one he'd hurt from kicking in that door earlier—rolled under him. He fell to the polished marble floors with a yelp and had to quickly roll to the side to avoid his enemy's blade, which embedded itself into the floor.

Link used that precious moment that his enemy spent pulling that blade out to leap to his own feet and attack the green one's exposed side.

His heart clenched when the figure's eyes changed from red to green, and he gave him a similar smile to the first one—gentle, relieved, approving—before vanishing into tendrils of smoke like the first one.

Were his hands shaking? Link swore his hands were shaking. He couldn't hold the tip of his sword still as the next foe stepped forth. "Why are you doing this?" He asked desperately. "Why are you making me do this?"

This figure—whose eyes glinted blue for the briefest of moments—did not smile. This one scowled. Instead of the child-like appearance of the green one, or the mixed form of the red one, this one settled on the form of an older individual. Someone close to Link's physical age with what appeared to be a permanent scowl and the lines of a hard life etched into their face.

"I don't want to fight you." Link whispered. "I don't want to kill you."

The figure did not speak. Just like the other two, this one attacked without waiting for him to collect himself. Link tried to shake himself from his emotions. He tried to concentrate on the fight at hand, but he couldn't stop thinking about the other two figures that he'd just killed. The two people he'd just ended. And that scowl on the blue one's face only made him feel worse.

A sharp slice to his leg forced his mind to focus on the fight. Pain sharpened his perception of his environment and his enemy's movements, and he quickly realized that the blue one's blows were far fiercer than the others'.

Link's back hit something and he quickly ducked under a swipe, leaping to the side and lashing out with his sword as his enemy pulled his blade free of the pillar. A soft cry followed by a growl came from his foe, and Link bit his lip.

"Please. At least tell me why you're doing this."

Of course, he did not get an answer. The two blades clashed and Link kicked out with his bad foot, causing the blue one to double over for a moment. Link saw the opening and made his attack. This time, he understood that the defeat of this enemy was his full conscious choice and not a reflexive action.

He hoped that this growing feeling of horror and dread would leave him one day. He also hoped it wouldn't.

The last one stepped forward, eyes glinting violet in the lighting. "I am the last one."

Link flinched almost violently at the voice that echoed around the room. This one had spoken. And his voice sounded unlike anything he'd ever heard before. Like he was speaking through layers of steel with an undertone that sounded like a thousand hummingbird wings. An echoey vibration that didn't sound at all hylian.

"Who... are you? What is all this? Why..."

"We are not what we once were." The violet color of the stranger's eyes seemed more pronounced in that moment. "We are the echoes of the previous wielders of this blade. We have been dead for a long time. We were supposed to protect this place, but the darkness has corrupted us." He winced for a moment as the red color started to seep back in. "Do it, Hero. Finish what you have started, and take this power as yours. Cleanse this place of darkness. Set us free."

Something within Link settled and ignited as that red color overtook the violet. The now silent figure stepped forth just like the other three, sword raised and crimson gaze staring unerringly at him.

This time, he waited until Link had raised his blade. And Link was determined to win this time. To set this person free, even if that meant killing him. He didn't like it, but the violet-eyed person had asked him to do so himself, so Link would honor that wish.

He would finish what he started.

They moved at the same instant—some unheard signal causing both of them to rush forward in synchronization. Their blades clashed, the sound of metal-on-metal reverberating in the stone room loudly enough to make his ears tremble.

For a moment, it became a contest of strength. Link was strong, but his enemy was clever. In the moment Link thrust his strength forth, attempting to overwhelm his foe, the stranger sidestepped, letting Link's blade slide down his enemy's harmlessly and leaving Link incredibly open to attacks.

And the stranger didn't hesitate. Bright hot agony spread from the deep slash across his back as his hands hit the cold stone flooring. Link barely had the time to process what had happened before he was forced to roll to the side to avoid another strike.

But the violet-eyed warrior stepped on Link's shield mid-roll, pinning him to the ground in a horribly vulnerable position. Link swung his blade wildly, scarcely swatting away the strike that would have ended him as he slipped his arm out of the shield's straps, abandoning it in favor of survival.

Link scrambled ungracefully to his feet, adrenaline pumping so thickly through his veins that he could hardly feel his own body, let alone his injuries. A raw sort of panic and excitement swept through him as he focused every fiber of his being on his enemy. He had never had a fight like this before—something so raw and dangerous and unpredictable. It pulled at something in the very back of his mind as the stranger charged him.

Link quickly sidestepped the charge, whirling around to keep his enemy in his sights, when the warrior threw something at him. Dirt and dust flew right into his face, obscuring his vision as he let out a cry of surprise, quickly backpedaling to put as much distance between himself and his foe as he could. His eyes burned and watered madly, and he brought up his left arm to scrub at his eyes aggressively, burying several granules of sand deeper and scratching the already burning surface.

Quick footsteps to his left had him blindly raising his blade. He was rewarded with the feeling of resistance and the sound of metal on metal. He twisted his blade in a circular motion, attempting to figure out where his enemy was.

Then the resistance left and Link moved. Just in time it would seem, as something swished through the air just to his right, missing him by what felt like a hair's width. He forced his eyes open, trying his best to ignore the burning sensation as they tried to twitch closed. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he could make out a blurry figure coming at him from straight ahead.

He ducked and swerved, thrusting his blade out and to the side, catching his foe in the thigh. The warrior growled, retreating several steps as Link acted on an instinct he didn't fully understand. He gripped his blade as tightly as he could and spun. There was the sound of shattering steel as his sword finally broke, but it seemed this stunned his foe for a moment. A very precious moment.

It was all he needed as he wrestled the blade from his enemy's hand and held it against his neck. His left eye was starting to recover enough to see his enemy with. Link hesitated, hand shaking. He had won. He didn't need to do this. He shouldn't do this.

But those red eyes flickered to violet for a moment—desperate and pleading with an iron will burning in their depths—and Link swung.

The blade in his hand turned to smoke just like the person he had just defeated, and he swore he heard the softest whisper of gratitude on a nonexistent breeze.

In the utterly deafening silence of the now still room, Link fell to his knees and wept through burning eyes. Now that the fighting was done, he felt exhausted. Never had he fought people before—not like that. And their strategies were unlike anything he'd encountered in his admittedly short memory.

A flash of light instantly drew his abused eyes back to the empty pedestal as his hand went for a blade that was no longer there. But there were no enemies in sight. Instead there was now a sword standing in the pedestal.

He took a moment to fish out some water from his slate and rinse out his eyes, certain he was seeing things. But no, it was the same sword that the four echoes he'd just fought had wielded. Instead of being forged with hues of dull greys and blacks, however, it was a breathtakingly beautiful golden color with a shimmering gemstone set into the pommel. The stone kept shifting colors in the lighting, so he had no way of telling what color it was supposed to be.

Under normal circumstances, Link would leap at the prospect of a new sword. But considering what he just went through, he thought it may have been best to leave without it. He needed to get his wounds treated anyways. He was fairly sure that his injuries were extensive enough that he couldn't just sleep it off as he would normally like. Maybe he could go to one of the Great Fairy Fountains and get the little fairies there to heal him? Sometimes, if he was still enough, they'd flutter over to him and heal his wounds.

He turned to leave, intent on teleporting away, when something inside of him lurched. Link stumbled, bad ankle throbbing under the sudden shift of bodyweight. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to the sword. It seemed to glow a little brighter, as if beckoning him.

"You... want me to draw you?" He asked softly, unsure if this sword was supposedly alive like the Sword that Seals the Darkness was said to be.

There was no answering sound or movement, but somehow Link knew that he was supposed to take this sword with him. The violet-eyed person had said something about claiming a power for himself, hadn't he? Was this what he meant? To take the sword the four of them had wielded?

Link really wasn't sure how he felt about using the sword after what he'd just been through. Hell, he still wasn't sure how he felt about the fights he'd just had. There was some part of himself that felt shaken and unstable, and he really wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up by the pond with his horse Echo.

But there was a sharp tug from something within him—like his magic was trying to pull him towards the blade that sat so innocently before him. Slowly, like a sailor following a siren's call, Link stepped forward.

The handle was warm in his grasp, but it didn't burn like the Sword that Seals the Darkness. Emboldened by this calm reaction, he widened his stance and pulled.

And then everything shattered.