Chapter Text
It’s long past midnight, and Legend can’t sleep.
The waves are calm around him while they rock him back and forth on the water’s surface. Only the light of the moon is reflecting off the otherwise pitch black sea as far out as he let himself drift. The faint lantern lights in some of Outset’s houses are too far to truly illuminate any space near him; he doubts they’d do a much better job even were he further in. And besides, all he’s truly watching are the stars speckled across the clear night sky, burning all by their lonesome.
His arms are stretched out on both his sides, in a position that would have him sprawling on the ground were he not floating. Instead of his legs, his tail is swaying in its familiar element like the rest of him, only ever adjusting its fin when a stronger gust of wind threatens to veer him too far off shore.
The lack of sleep doesn’t come as a surprise, not really, despite the hope that rose in him after the day’s activities left him exhausted in a good way. He’s not caught a full night of rest while near large bodies of water for years, at this point. It’s nothing new, and he doubts anything but the passage of time will truly ever affect the condition.
So, eyes wide open after no one else’s were, he gingerly stole himself out of the pile of pillows and blankets covering both floors of Wind’s grandma’s house, leaving on the tip of his toes with no regard for footwear. Were he a religious man besides cursing in divinity's names, the silent thank you for no one needing to be on watch would’ve been uttered to a specific Goddess. But he’s distinctly not, so they fell from his lips with no recipient in mind.
He’s grateful for the calm state of night. It means he’ll be able to drift here until dawn almost approaches, undisturbed.
And most importantly, no gulls are crying at this time.
A wave splashes over him, coating the scales on his tail with sparkling droplets of water. He feels each of them as he would on skin, maybe even more intricately.
The morphed limb has long become a soothing presence whenever he’s in deep waters. The capabilities it grants him bring with it a sort of certainty the elements won’t be able to toy with him quite as easily as they would otherwise. Without the lightning striking his body that fateful night long ago, he’s certain he’d never have lost consciousness, and found his way underwater barely harmed.
But that’s a what if. It’s not what happened, and short of abusing Nayru’s abilities as Veran did he doubts there’s any way to make it so in earnest.
He exhales in tandem with the gentle sway of the waves. This exact train of thought has coursed through his mind so many times now, unrelenting whenever he’s left alone to ponder its beginnings. He shelves it back whence it originated from with practice he’d rather he didn’t have.
A splash catches his attention among the otherwise silent sea. He has scouted the deeper regions of the shore before presenting himself as an easy target, so the alarm it brings into his muscles is minimal. Nothing but the usual need to be aware of his surroundings.
He does little more than tilt his head to the side. True enough, there are ripples emerging from a spot closer to the beach than his - he can’t make out specifics like this, for want of both perspective and proper light, but they look like a vaguely Hylian-sized entity caused them.
He considers moving for maybe one blink of his eyes before remaining still. If this is one of the other heroes, the effort would be wasted.
And if it’s not, well, his entire arsenal is one opening flick of his pouch away, and he doesn’t need to be upright to use most of that.
The ripples calm a little, as one can expect after the initial impact, and he waits for whoever it is to give themselves away by technique of their strokes. But, and this actually gives him pause, once the water calms, there’s nothing left above the surface to watch.
That’s… strange. There’s nowhere to go but below.
He’s withdrawn his arms ever so slightly, ready to maybe have to make a move after all, when he’s presented with an explanation.
Multiple lengths from where they splashed in, not too far from him, a figure emerges from below the surface, jumping until they are level above the water with a speed akin to a loosened arrow. For a short moment, the pale moonlight illuminates an outline for Legend to study. Whoever this is has broken from the waves in a rigid and controlled posture - one he hastily manages to liken to poses he’s taken on for greater speeds. It’s an interesting detail, though nothing compared to the other realization it brings.
This is not a Hylian.
That’s the only thought that truly persists when the figure dives back under a heartbeat later.
Legend doesn’t wait for the ripples to reach him. Instead he turns his tail to the side, lifts the large fin and pushes the rest of his body under in one swift motion. The instinctive need to close his eyes and take in a breath of air before his head dives in takes hold of him for a short moment, but he’s practiced enough to suppress it.
Once submerged he feels his perception shift and adjust to the ocean’s difference to the outside air. His first inquisitive look focuses on the direct line back towards the beach, but catches nothing but the ground of ever-rising sand. There are lingering disturbances in the water, though, and he follows the signs until his head is tipped to look below him.
Sure enough, he finds exactly what - or rather who he’s been scanning for.
There, straight under where he’s currently floating, a lanky yet muscular Ocean Zora is horizontally coasting in the water, staring straight back up at him with a satisfied smile. Their arms are crossed behind their head while one leg rests on top of the other, both drawn in to mimic a casual lounging position. Two fins protruding from their lower arms are synced in slow and natural strokes, counteracting the weak current to stay in place.
It quite frankly looks purposefully effortless, to a ridiculous degree, and Legend doesn’t know whether he’s supposed to feel impressed or annoyed by that, seeing as he did the same earlier today. He settles on a healthy combination of both.
The Zora - now that Legend’s had the chance to look at them properly, he’s fairly sure they’re male - just remains as he is while Legend assesses further.
He’s still wary over this new arrival, even without true alarm in him, and the rest of the Zora’s appearance plays a significant part in that. Some of the scales around his arms and shoulders seem to be hardened and protrude out akin to armour, forming a sharp but still sleek pair of shoulder guards and gauntlets. Some of them cover his chest and abdominal area as well, almost like a breastplate would. Legend has never seen the like before, at least not on his era’s Zora.
Then again, he’s never seen a Zora wearing leather boots before, either, so he guesses there’s a first time for everything. For all he knows, this is just what the race has evolved to be and wear in Wind’s world.
There’s also not a single shred of hostility in the Zora’s mannerisms, at least not as far as Legend can tell. And he's become quite good at judging intention over the years.
“Anything you want or are you just gonna float here?” he asks, deciding it’s not worth trying to figure out on his own. “‘Cause I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really looking for company.”
The slight distortion inherent to when he speaks underwater is surprisingly calming to his ears. It’s been a while since he’s properly held a conversation amidst the waves, even if it’s just to re-establish his solitude.
The Zora doesn’t answer him in words. Instead, the smile morphs into a taunting grin and the fins on his arms pick up their pace to propel him into what Legend supposes counts as upright. The Zora lifts one of his hands out from behind his head, balled into a fist with his thumb pointing over his shoulder, back at the island.
Before Legend can do much more than raise an eyebrow, the Zora proceeds to first place the finger to his own chest, then towards Legend’s. After that he holds out his arm and draws a circle out in front of him, all the while not losing the challenging expression he fell into.
It takes only a couple of seconds for Legend to understand the meaning of the gestures. “You saying you want the two of us to race? Around the island?”
A single nod confirms his deduction. Legend feels his nose wrinkling.
“Could’ve just said so instead of doing that whole charade,” he grumbles with a sigh.
The Zora has the audacity to shrug at him, and Legend takes it as a silent ‘Well, you understood, didn’t you?’. It’s true, so he supposes he can’t righteously get too offended over it.
The pause in conversation presents him with the time to ponder his answer - the necessity of that already comes unexpected.
By all means, his original plan was to turn down any attempt at socializing if asked. A race of all things isn’t really what he thought of when he came out here, either. When his insomnia hits like this he’s usually best left alone, a bundle of frustrations unable to restrain himself from blowing up at whoever ends up in his vicinity. It’s a lesson he’s learned long ago.
But… he finds himself uncharacteristically excited right now. Maybe the race earlier in the day wet his appetite. Enough to wake the competitive spirit, yet too little of a challenge to sate it.
“Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing better to do,” he agrees then. The deep blue Zoran eyes, one of them a lighter shade than the other, begin to sparkle more than they’re normally wont to do underwater. “Lead the way.”
It’s a request he doesn’t need to make twice. Almost the moment he finishes the Zora turns around, flips into a frontal somersault and kicks back, propelling himself forward. Legend has to rush to catch up, a few powerful sweeps of his tail hastening his leave.
They swim for a short while before the Zora decreases in speed, so he follows suit. A wooden structure is plunged into the ocean floor right at their side, and Legend recognizes it as the bottom of the lookout on the opposite end of the island to Wind’s house.
It makes as good a goalpost as any, he surmises. Easy to spot from a distance, hard to overlook, far enough out to not run the risk of hitting an area too shallow to keep up tempo without risk.
“Single lap?” he asks, drifting into position next to his soon-to-be opponent. He’s in the process of tucking his hat to his side between his belt and tunic when an enthusiastic nod accepts the suggestion. “And how are we gonna count down? Want me to?”
The Zora shakes his head at him and holds one of his arms high, presenting one of the fins on his forearm to Legend. In a similar gesture to earlier he raises his other hand to draw a circle; this time, from his fin away from them and then back towards it again, snapping his arm up as if he were catching something.
Legend just blinks in confusion at the expectant expression that follows. What?
“...you’re gonna have to demonstrate, ‘cause I understood fuck all of what you just tried to tell me.”
A sigh is his answer, and he feels himself fall into a more standoffish stance on pure instinct. It’s not his fault this guy wants to play charades with him. He’s not about to shame someone for not being able to talk, but this improvised miming isn’t exactly as clear cut as proper sign language.
The hand that drew the circle is now lifted with a straight palm towards him. ‘Wait’, if he had to hazard a guess.
Next he knows the Zora brings his arms up in front of his chest and holds them parallel to each other. Then the fins on them suddenly harden, becoming more stiff than what he saw while they were swimming in tandem, and detach from their place at the Zora’s forearms, flying off in a straight line away from him with a visible trail behind them.
He watches in, granted, fascination as they seem to reach a set distance, split off into two different directions to both form a half-circle and make their way back to their owner. Once they do, the Zora catches them back on his arms with the same snapping movement he demonstrated earlier.
Legend’s not an idiot, so he gets it now.
“Not gonna lie, that’s pretty cool. We go when you catch ‘em back, right?” he still confirms, not wanting to have to start over for the slightest chance he misunderstood.
The Zora just nods at him, confident smile back on his face. That’s that settled, then.
“Well, I’m ready whenever,” Legend says, returning the confidence in his own expression, and brings his body into a position ready to propel him forward at a moment’s notice. He only keeps his head turned just enough for the Zora to stay in his peripheral. “Shoot your fins, fish man.”
A short and a little gill-distorted chuckle leaves the Zora. So the guy can make sounds after all. Good to know after there’s nothing to be said anymore.
He hears the swoosh of the fins being released before he sees them shoot out into the water ahead of them. Time slows around him as they reach their peak, split off like they did before, and the long breath he exhales brings forth a cluster of bubbles that rises above his head. He raises his tail in anticipation, prepares his muscles for it to swing down in a stroke powerful enough to give him a good starting boost.
The fins snap back, the Zora goes into a front flip again, and Legend wastes no time to propel himself forward before his opponent can. In the end, the rush of water next to him tells him he’s not far behind even so.
His arms find their best position on instinct, the one that best supports his intended speed, as if he were running in his regular form. Swimming amongst the currents of a deeply troubled ocean in Labrynna has taught Legend to be cautious. Taught him to take sharp yet controlled turns, to steer precisely where his tail swings without compromising the power behind each sweep of his lower body. In a sea as calm as this it keeps his line of movement straight.
They soon reach the first turn around the island, hazy grey and black shadows his only lead as to not get too close and ram into the cliffs. Legend leans into the current that flows just where he wants to go.
He’s not been overtaken yet, but he can’t imagine he’s made any headway in the short amount of time they’ve spent so far either. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he glances to his side.
What he sees is his opponent coming out of a tight corkscrew, arms pressed as tightly against his side as his legs together. He’s seen Zora swim before, of course. The less elegant River tribe, shoving their way through the waters with sheer force, as well as other Ocean Zora, who work with the waves instead of fighting them.
But there’s still a control there he can’t place. Superfluous movements that are missing, an absence of comfort he can’t explain.
Or maybe he can. This is the sort of control needed in danger. To navigate treacherous waters and obstacles too harmful to even brush with the tip of a fin. All of a sudden the armour-like appearance of the Zora’s scales slots into a bigger picture.
His musings are interrupted when the current is no longer where they want to go, and they both straighten their direction. While Legend picks up more forward speed, the Zora begins to rise closer to the surface. Before Legend can even question that decision he sees him leap out of the waves at a shallow angle, only dipping into the air for a short moment before diving back under.
Once he’s fully submerged, he uses the same momentum to curve his body into another jump just a few seconds later.
Legend watches this for just about the time he needs to swear under his breath once he realizes he’s now falling behind.
There’s an elation he’s not felt in a while in needing to give his speed his all. Not what’s necessary to impress or to overtake an opponent without much effort - pushing himself to his limits, shoving that ceiling further and further up as he works muscles he only rarely uses.
Soon he’s closed the distance again, and follows the Zora’s jumping path without much issue. The small turns and adjustments he can make gain him ground over the more rigid pathing that strategy comes with.
They make it to the next turn around the smaller part of Outset’s two connected rock formations in no time, with him only barely behind. The Zora has kept to the waves while they approached, and Legend sees him yet again go into a corkscrewed turn before he loses sight of him behind the rock. He pushes himself to the side as well, determined to overtake once he can put all his efforts into the long straight coming up. There’s another current he just entered, one that lends itself to being followed.
Until he gets tackled out of it, rough, someone colliding with his chest hard enough to take the air out of his lungs were there any filling them.
There's enough white in his vision to know what - who - it was too, and he immediately barks out an annoyed, "Hey! Watch where you -"
Whatever else he meant to say becomes a cacophony of gurgles and bubbles behind the deafening sound of something colliding with the rock only a single pace in front of them. The rumbling is almost worse than the noise, and Legend feels a couple of splinters hit the enchanted fabric of his tunic.
"The hell?!" is the next thing that leaves his mouth.
His vision clears when the Zora lets go of him, and his eyes widen and narrow in quick succession. What crashed into the rock looks like part of a gigantic tentacle, one he catches just a glimpse of before it retreats back into the depths of the ocean. His ability to see underwater is enhanced, but he can't even make out an outline when he follows that direction, which doesn't bode well. Maybe his companion fares better in that regard; Zora biology isn’t exactly Legend’s field of study.
There's a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see the Zora still floating next to him, now angular eyes filled with a determination to pursue. Legend knows his own damned Hero’s spirit well enough to know he would’ve done so regardless, so it’s good he’s not gonna be on his own.
“Guess I owe you," he grumbles, and injects a healthy amount of both snark and gratitude. "Wouldn't have been fun to get smacked by that. You know what we’re dealing with?”
The head shake that follows isn’t quite disappointing. He’s learned to expect to not have information ever since this blasted adventure began. All this means is they’ll have to figure this out without the local hero to guide them, and while it’s an added annoyance, he’s done that plenty on patrol.
“Figures. Nothing to do other than go take a look then.”
And with that he accelerates, taking off toward where he saw the tentacle retreat to. The current from earlier tugs at him again as he moves, promising to grant him speed, but he’s much less inclined to give up the control it needs to carry him now. The beating of fins in his periphery is more of a comfort than it by all rights should be.
His hand reaches for his pouch on instinct, opens the flap to reach in and grab the handle of his sword. Swimming with it drawn affects his maneuverability, so keeping a grip on it like this is the best compromise.
It soon becomes harder to keep his line straight as the current’s pull becomes stronger, more adamant to lead him away. It’s not yet taking all of his effort, however, so he pushes against it. Being in control of his path is always preferable to the alternative; his experience is making him expect another attack any moment.
Before it can come, he’s finally able to make something out in front of him. Seamless darkness paves the way for shapes, something solid amidst the waves, and he soon notices the shimmer of multiple yellow lights that creep him out before they fully come into view.
When they do, along with what they're attached to, he almost wishes they hadn't.
What’s towering in front of them is a massive squid-like creature, bigger than anything Legend’s fought underwater before. Two tentacles float by its side, and its entire body is covered in what seem to be at least a dozen bright yellow eyes that both track nothing and everything he does. His grip on his blade tightens immediately as he breathes out a swear.
“Shit, it’s huge. The fuck is it doing so close to the island?”
He throws a worried glance back at the twin rocks behind them, too close for comfort. So much for the sailor's claim that the sea stayed calm and free of monsters close to islands. Clearly there are very prominent outliers around these parts.
Any further musing is cut off by one of the tentacles drawing back, ready to snap towards them, and Legend has to focus on darting to the side. The Zora also ducks away, and they’re both just in time for the tentacle to rush between them. Legend feels the force it pushes the water towards him with on his face.
Well, that’s it then. He fully draws his sword now, holding it protectively in front of him.
The Zora seems to have reached the same conclusion he has. While Legend got his weapon out he's already swam further towards the monster in one decisive dash, and Legend sees him raise his arms the same he did to release his fins earlier. True enough they harden and shoot off towards the squid, straight towards one of its eyes.
Their aim is true. They both impact into the glowing eyeball with a gross squelching sound, and the entire gigantic creature flinches back from the hit with a deep howl that reverberates through the water.
But that’s all it does. When the fins circle back the eye still glows the same as it did before, and the monster seems no worse for wear. It clearly caused the thing pain, though, and that’s more than nothing.
Legend doesn’t think long before his lower body moves into a powerful sweep. The current greets him with open arms and accelerates his dash, carrying him towards the same eye with his blade raised.
The squelch is even more disgusting from up close. Legend has to retreat back once the monster’s entire body convulses in pain a second time, to not get smacked away by force. As he backstrokes he sees the eye’s glow shift colour, its pupil vanishing and taking on the same sickly blue as the rest of it.
Interesting. At least it's clear 'strike the eye' looks to be the name of the game once again.
“GET DOWN!”
The voice is low, distorted as it swings up and down in pitch, and closer than Legend’s awareness likes it to be.
It’s all the warning he gets before a white blur once again enters his vision. It doesn't collide with him this time, only swims up right between him and the monster, now hidden behind some sort of long shield. That’s the moment his reflexes choose to tuck his head in and bring his limbs close.
Next he knows a tentacle he’s definitely not seen coming rams against them. The Zora is flung back into him from the impact, and Legend makes an effort to counter the force of the push to steady them once he has his bearings. He’s about to lean in to gain them some ground, but a curt reprimand stops him.
“Stop touching me! I can’t -” A groan interrupts the Zora as the monster increases its strength. “Just. Hands off! Trust me!”
Legend does as he’s asked. It’s almost on instinct, as if he knows deep down it’s important to give those words the asked trust.
The moment he’s at half an arm’s length, just as he fears he’ll be served a face full of flung-away Zora for his efforts, his field of vision erupts with crackling blue magic.
A whirl of electricity has emerged around his companion, encasing him in pulses of rising magic that fade in and out of the water around them. Legend hasn’t been electrocuted yet, or the way it mimics the lightning sparkling on Hyrule’s fingertips as he casts along with the fact they are in the ocean would’ve given him more worry.
The squid isn’t as lucky. A shrill howl fills their surroundings as the lightning travels from where the Zora’s shield - which, where the fuck had he even gotten that - makes contact with the tentacle straight into its entire body, visibly shaking the monster to its core. It retreats from its assault not long after, withdrawing the tentacle in haste.
The Zora chooses this opportunity to drop the magic and immediately makes to gain some distance, which Legend realises might be an idea to copy. He begrudgingly returns his sword to his pouch as he swims. Close combat has lost its appeal somewhat.
Ebbing howls still in their ears, they seem to both suss out the same time to come to a halt. Legend watches as the Zora’s shield softens and has soon retreated to return to its form as one of his fins. Ah. So that’s the secret.
He wants to ask about the magic. He really does. But he’s already seen what it can do, and that's the most important thing he needs to know, so that can wait. Something else, on the other hand, cannot, and he brings his arms up to cross them in front of his chest as he begins to wear a smirk.
“So you can talk after all, huh?”
The Zora doesn’t seem quite as eager to go with the banter as he is. If Legend had to guess, there's even some dissatisfaction in his expression. “Perhaps you should focus your efforts elsewhere than noting that,” he says, all without ever turning towards Legend. The distortion caused by the gills all Zora sport is less pronounced now that they aren’t shouting, but still there. It almost has a melodic touch to it that contrasts the matter of fact in the tone. “Preferably on the enemy.”
Legend can’t help but roll his eyes. The reaction almost feels natural, despite the fact he’s never met this guy before. It’s strange for a moment, until he realises what caused the feeling. “Yeah, yeah. Hylia, your nagging reminds me of an old man I know.”
Immediate silence is his reward for that particular remark. And once he does get a response, it very deliberately skirts past a direct acknowledgement of it.
“I will return to sniping its eyes, it seems to be our best option. If there are any ranged weapons in your possession, I suggest you use them as well.”
Legend is opening his mouth to tell this guy he does not need battle advice from a random stranger, but said stranger has already flipped into yet another starting somersault and dashed off to split their efforts. He allows himself to grumble in place for maybe a second, before following that example.
In the time he takes to find himself a position not in danger of being struck in a blindspot again, the fin boomerangs hit their mark. Judging by the monster’s continued cries of agony it seems to be working - but it’s a slow process, and he’s not sure they can fight the current and stay safe for as long as it’s gonna take without tiring out.
A tentacle swooshes past the spot he just left. A swear falls out of his mouth, and he reaches into his pouch. He has to think now.
His boomerang doesn’t work underwater. None of his rods are safe to use under the sea. The Cane of Somaria won’t be any help right now, neither will his seed shooter. The current surrounding this thing is too strong for the pallets to reach anywhere near the targets he’d aim them at, he doesn’t need to try to know that. It’s a damn shame too, since it would otherwise be his first choice in a situation like this.
His hand finds the handle of his switch hook, and lingers for a moment. Then he pulls it out.
The first shot isn’t aimed anywhere in particular - he watches the chain closely, however, focusing on noting the adjustment he needs to make against the current. The hook stops only a little to the side of where he shot it straight, and he nods to himself as it’s recalled. He can work with this.
Or, he could. He manages to hit an eye exactly once, the squelching noise now a sweet confirmation of progress. Its glow immediately shifts to blue, unlike the other, and while he hopes he has the electricity from earlier to thank for that, he can’t be sure. After that, it becomes more difficult.
Both tentacles now swing at his every move. Completely ignoring the Zora still methodically picking off its eyes, the squid has focused all its effort on Legend, and Legend alone, and he barely finds moments to stay both still and close enough to the monster to shoot his weapon.
It’s an infuriating dance of gauging speed and steadiness, one he’s apparently shit at, because the one time he fires he has to break away halfway through the shot.
Once the chain has fully rattled back Legend lowers the switch hook. They need a change of strategy, very badly, so instead of trying to stay close he retreats into less perilous waters, until he spots the Zora further up. His fins have just snapped back, judging by the position of his arms, and he’s about to fire them again when he notices Legend approach.
“This ain’t working fast enough,” he calls out, drifting closer towards the end and lowering his volume. “How many left?”
The Zora only nods his head towards the monster, and, yeah, that’s fair. One quick turn of his head provides Legend with the needed information - the fact that there are still just as many yellow eyes left as there are blue ones, while he’s about to guess both their stamina to keep control of their movements is nearing much less than halfway.
In other words, they need a new plan, and they need it fast.
“If I could at least get close without it swinging at me any opportunity it gets,” he snaps, turning back to meet an inquisitive gaze. He raises an eyebrow. “What, you didn’t notice how none of the tentacles ever went for you?”
The Zora puts a hand on his hip, and another to his chin. It's once again eerily similar to something his brain recognises. “I did find it a little odd. I wonder…”
Legend huffs when the pause draws a bit too long. "Well, whatever you’re wondering about, share."
“It might be afraid of my magic," the Zora explains at his insistence. "The shield of lightning? It must have caused quite a bit of damage earlier, even with only that short burst.”
Legend feels his brow furrow deeper as he thinks it over. It would make some sort of sense. The tentacles haven't even come near him ever since he's floating close to his companion.
"You could go and give it a hug?" he says, and it's only half of a joke.
The Zora doesn't have an eyebrow to raise back at him, yet somehow the pupil-less eyes convey all the disapproval instead.
"Even if I wanted to, I'm fairly certain that direct of an approach would end less than ideal."
He's right, of course. Legend's dealt with those blasted tentacles enough by now to be well aware of their speed; if the past minutes are anything to gauge by, staying too close for too long is too troublesome.
"Think it'll see you as an ally if I let you deck me in the face?" he proposes, and once again surprises himself with how it’s not even in complete jest. Going by the Zora’s dry reaction, though, it may as well have been.
"Keep up the hilarious suggestions and I'll be tempted regardless."
Legend snorts. "Hey, at least I'm trying. Not hearing you come up with anything better."
That gives pause to the conversation for a while. It leaves a bad taste in Legend’s mouth the longer it goes on - how staying out of the squid’s tentacles’ range almost trivialises coming up with mid-battle strategies, and they still aren’t quite managing to. The current tugs at him in his swimstill, ever present, a constant reminder of the fact that there’s a gigantic monster waiting for them to re-engage.
He still can’t think of anything productive, so he spits out a curse instead.
Leaving to get the meager number among the others who may be of use in underwater combat would be a waste of both time and strength. And in case he’s pursued? He’s only getting the monster closer to the island. After how the cliffs shook from that first hit, he’s not eager to let that happen again.
There’s still half the eyes left. The Zora’s fins take time to both set up and strike twice to take out a single one. Most of his own items are useless for that. The only truly effective attack they’ve found is the Zora’s lightning magic, and with the tentacles only trying to grasp him instead, there’s no way to -
Hold on.
His fingers clasp the handle of his switch hook, all of a sudden much more aware of it than he’s been only a moment ago. He locks his eyes to it as his mind begins to race, finally grasping at a possibility, finally formulating a plan.
He jerks his head to the side the moment he’s done, snapping his attention from his weapon to the Zora who’s already been eyeing him with curiosity. “I have a plan.”
The Zora’s limbs straighten back into a more alert stance, and his words are acknowledged with a nod.
“I’m gonna get its attention. Stay far enough so it’ll actually target me, but not too far, and take my exact path,” Legend rattles off, waiting for yet another nod of confirmation after he’s done. A grin shoots up on his face then. “You’ll know when it’s your time to shine. Trust me this time.”
He takes off towards the monster without even questioning how matter of course it feels to tell this complete stranger to trust in a half-explained plan he’s only just cooked up. Or how he doesn't need to wait for the answer to know it.
His tail’s strained muscles scream of relief as he gives in to the force that’s pulling him in, closer to the squid. Most of its eyes on this side are blank, glowing with that sickly blue, and it almost creeps him out more than the other ones as he rides the current until he’s only a couple sweeps from the main body.
There is no time to waste, so he comes to a complete stop as best as he’s able and raises his switch hook to aim at the closest spot of yellow he can see. Almost immediately one of the tentacles snaps up, swinging towards him in an arc that will wrap around his body to crush him if he does not evade it.
His smile grows wider.
Good.
He sticks to his position, not attempting to swerve out of the way on purpose. His instincts scream at him, twitch his fin to propel him forward and out of danger’s path, but his instincts aren’t in control of his actions. Instead, he tenses his muscles and braces for what he knows will be painful.
The tentacle slams into his side with a force that he’s sure would’ve cracked a rib if not for his mail. Gritting his teeth he leans into what he’s expecting to come next, and tries to ignore the icky sensation of a slimy texture somehow penetrating two layers of enchanted cloth. It’s not long until he’s fully wrapped in the squid’s grasp, one of his arms now pressed tight to his chest.
Before he can grin at his successful capture, the tentacle squeezes, and he has to clench his eyes shut from the pressure. This was never going to be the most pleasant part of his plan, but fuck if it doesn’t still hurt like a bitch.
“Hope you’re ready!” he calls out, raises the arm he’s made certain to be free behind his back and shoots his switch hook out straight behind him.
For a single, terrifying moment, he feels the chain go slack after reaching its zenith.
Then there’s a tug, and next he knows the world around him is warping itself out of shape. He’s used to the sensation of the switch hook’s magic, hasn’t gotten nauseous from it in many years now, but the immediate and sudden lift of the pressure around his chest almost overwhelms his enchanted lungs. The involuntary breath he takes in is harsh, and almost makes him cough as the switch hook’s chain rolls back into the tool.
His eyes snap open as he jerks his body around in a quick turn.
He’s just in time to see an explosion of crackling blue magic erupt around the giant squid monster, wrecking its entire body with convulsions as it howls in a cry of agony.
And in front of it, wrapped in the tentacle Legend has just escaped, the Zora, covered in the same hurricane of magic as before. With both his arms free he’s grasped the slimy limb, tight enough to keep it near even when the monster’s force wanes and it loosens its hold.
It writhes in the electricity more the longer it stays engulfed in it, the current surrounding them losing any cohesive sense of direction as it mimics the sheer panic inherent in its howling. Whatever specks of yellow were still visible amongst the blue lightning are snuffed out one by one.
The last eye turns to blue, and with one final agonised howl the squid monster crumples and deflates into itself.
Its gigantic body, while not turning to smoke and ash, begins to sink into the depths instead. The Zora soon lowers the magical shield, the tentacle long fallen off from around him, and releases his hold on it as it descends. It’s the cue Legend takes to swim up towards him, pocketing his switch hook as he does.
“Three remind me never to underestimate an Ocean Zora again,” he mumbles under his bubble breath before he’s fully arrived, half swallowing the last word as said Zora turns to him. “So. That went well.”
A nod. “It was a good plan. Perhaps a little disorienting, but the results speak for themselves.”
A smirk sneaks itself onto Legend’s face, and his arms cross before he even realises it. “Yeah, sorry not sorry ‘bout that. At this point I’ve learned it’s easier to just do it rather than try to explain your magical items in the hope people don’t think you’re full of shit.”
A shadow darts across the Zora’s face at his remark - it’s gone before Legend can try to examine it in more detail, though a combination of agreement and resignation lingers. No verbal answer follows, though, so he lets himself deflate a little. Close his eyes, exhale, shake off the tension of the fight.
All jokes aside, there’s a concerning conclusion here that he’s been shoving around since the start of this. Wind’s been both adamant and very confident about the fact no monsters would linger close enough to the island to cause trouble - and yet here he is, after battle with a huge squid that shook the rock of the cliffs with a single hit.
He’s gonna have to figure out how to tell the sailor he might have to take a closer look next time.
The next moment he swats that train of thought away like a persistent fly. That conversation is a problem for the two-legged him of the morning. Tailed him right now doesn’t have to worry about it just yet.
When he opens his eyes back up the Zora isn’t there anymore.
Rapid blinking is all he manages for a bit, before he snaps his head around. He just about makes out a vanishing outline dashing towards the surface so he follows suit, kicking his tail with all the strength it has left.
Breaking the surface feels as jarring as stepping from the shade back into direct sunlight on a hot summer day. A breeze ruffles through his hair, blonde and pink plastered flat against his head instead of swaying freely in his periphery. The wind hits his skin like a hundred short pin pricks, and while the magic keeps his clothes from waterlogging he almost wishes for a cloak.
A splash catches his attention, and he follows the sound to its origin. A bit further off into the open sea the Zora has jumped out of the water, in the same maneuver Legend’s seen him do earlier. It takes a dive and another jump for him to realise the bastard is actively moving away from him, instead of just showing off.
“Hey!” he yells, and doesn’t care that the crashing of the waves probably swallows most of it. Or that his tail is already protesting the effort of the small dash he’s just finished. “What about the race?!”
But the Zora’s form has soon all but vanished into the horizon, swallowed by the Great Sea’s expanse, and Legend is left to once again float in the waves with only himself for company.
He almost manages not to flinch when the sun sends its first ray of light across the ocean’s glinting surface, and the gulls begin to cry above him.
“You fought a Big Octo underwater?!”
Legend draws out this sip of tea to a length he knows very well is plain obnoxious to wait for.
Wind has jumped up from his seat across the table, leaning across it on both his arms as if it helps him suss out the grade of truth in Legend’s words. Around them sit most of the rest of the other heroes, subtracting Wild, who has gone to help Wind’s grandma with the kitchen cleaning.
When he sets his cup down, it’s like the entire room is buzzing with anticipation for his answer.
He chooses not to comment on the fact the thing was much more of a squid than an octopus. Monster names aren’t an exact science, and Wind has the right to name his own era’s plagues. “Not like I had much of a choice. The only boats around here are the nutshells on the beach, and I couldn’t exactly go back to get one of those and leave it there.”
“And you beat it all on your own?” the sailor keeps the questions coming, almost bouncing high enough to jump the table. Legend shakes his head at this, and raises a few eyebrows before he goes on to explain.
“Nah, I had some help. From a Zora.”
"A Zora?" Twilight repeats, and Legend returns a nod to the rancher’s words.
"Yeah. Ocean kind. Dude could fight, and he was super fast too. We were in the middle of a race when that thing attacked, actually,” he summarises, decidedly leaving out the fact he’d been in the losing position when they were interrupted. First off it’s nobody’s business, and second off he’d definitely have overtaken on the straight anyway.
His cup finds its way to his mouth again and he empties the last of its contents before setting it back down. “Took off after the fight before we could finish it. Still don't really know what that was all about."
“Don’t take this the wrong way, vet,” Wind speaks up again, and boy, isn’t that a start that inspires confidence. "Are you... sure you didn’t dream that part?”
The question punches him in the gut the same way it always does.
It takes a few moments to scramble his composure back together and he’s more than aware some of it has shown on his face, but that’s nothing new. Then he exhales, analyses the words for the actual context behind them. Soon he’s regained all of his usual facade, and leans back in his chair with his arms and legs both crossed to relay his point.
“Yeah? I’m pretty sure. Why’re you askin’, anyway? Think I’m lying?”
The response comes out a bit harsher than he intended, and he feels a disapproving look land on him from where he can see Time sit and drink his own tea to the side. Wind himself thankfully doesn’t seem to be too affected.
“Not really, but…” the sailor says, and there’s a strange tone in his voice. “There aren’t any Zora in the Great Sea. Or anywhere in my era.”
Legends brain stops working for what feels like an hour, and really was probably a good second or so. The crowded room falls quiet safe for the backdrop of clinking dishes from the kitchen space.
"...what?"
It’s not exactly a fucking poem, but it’s the best his mind manages to spit out. Wind looks just a little uncomfortable, but mostly there’s a look of genuine confusion sitting in the boy’s eyes as he studies Legend’s reaction. When he makes no moves to embellish, Wind takes on the mantle himself.
"They evolved into Rito here. The only Zora I've ever met before I went to one of you guys' eras was the spirit of a Sage from centuries ago." His hand finds its way to the back of his neck, a treacherous habit they all somehow inherited from each other despite the fact most of them aren’t even related. “I’m not calling you a liar, but. It’s kinda hard to meet someone from a species that doesn’t exist anymore, y’know?”
It takes all of Legend’s remaining self control to not burst out of the door and jump into the ocean, just to find the guy and drag him back to the island kicking and screaming.
He settles on yelling instead.
"Then who the fuck did I race?!"
And if Time’s smirk really just grew the tiniest bit in width at his exasperation, then the old man has another thing coming for him.