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They say that Link, Hylia's Chosen Hero and founder of the Hyrulean Royal Family, had had two sons and one daughter. When Link died, his son, Gaepora, inherited the crown. Nothing unusual, as this was just how the crown was passed. However, as the years passed, and the kingdom of Hyrule declined more and more, the people turned to blame the people who were cornerstones to their kingdom: the kings. Boys in the royal family brought misfortune, they said. So the people did the next "logical" thing: prevent the boys from existing. Whenever a boy was born, the people killed him. This was just the way of the world, and the Hero of Legend had accepted this long ago. He lived his life in hiding, making sure that it was never known that he was related to royalty. His companion, the First King, however, was less accepting of this. He loathed that his descendants were in danger. The Hero of Legend had discovered this when the Chosen Hero went through a portal, coming back hours later soaked in blood. The sight made him sick, despite how many adventures the other hero had been on.
"Why?" He'd asked, trying to ignore the smell of blood, blood that had been shed for his sake.
"Because no descendant of mine deserves to fear for their life for existing," the knight had replied adamantly.
Soon, legends began popping up, the timeline having been altered permanently. Legends that spoke of a god, defending the Royal Family, especially the sons. Cautionary tales appeared, saying that if one ever attempted to follow tradition and kill the boys as soon as they were born, the wrath of that god would destroy them. That it would incinerate them, leaving no trace of their existence behind. The sudden legends were confusing for all in the Chain; there was no reason for them to exist, in their minds. But the veteran and the knight knew.
One day, the Legendary Hero decided to sit and think. Why did the legends specifically mention "god"? The Chosen Hero was no god, he knew this. His blood went cold, however, as he thought about it. Thinking about an innocent campfire conversation; one that had discussed their journeys.
"You know," the group's resident old man told the champion, "they say that if you are to slay a god, then traces of that divinity will remain on you until the end of time."
"I'm glad that I'm just favored by the wind gods then," the Hero of Winds replied. "I like being mortal, thank you very much!"
The veteran couldn't help but nod. "I wasn't blessed by a god, but I feel the same way."
The Chosen Hero was silent. Oddly so. After a minute or so of silence, though, he finally spoke.
"I've killed a god," he said quietly. "I've always felt… not quite the same after that."
All eyes went onto the Hero of Skies. Was this a joke? Was he being serious? The veteran was inclined to believe the second one. The Skyloftian was never out to deceive them, after all.
"Whoa, really?" The sailor asked. The knight nodded.
"Yes, I'm serious," he replied.
The Hero of Legend came to a realization then and there. The Hero of Time had been right: traces of divinity did remain on the Chosen Hero. He was much tougher than all of them combined, was able to withstand more damage, had a hard time getting sick, etc. And his power lined up too. He was much more powerful than a mortal should be. The veteran would know, he had dealt with gods before.
The Chosen Hero was a demigod. That's why the legends mentioned the power of a god— the Skyloftian was embracing his godly side in those moments. It also explained another memory he had. He hadn't thought about it in years, and the memory seemed almost like a dream, but it was there.
The Hero found himself in a dark castle, running and running and running. He tripped, though, and found himself on the other end of a sword.
He was going to die, he was certain of that. This was the end. He only wished that he'd gotten to know his sister more before his death.
Then, a man stood in front of him, glaring at the soldier who had cornered Link. If looks could kill, the solider would be ash in the wind. The stranger had some sort of white cape and green tunic.
"Tell me, solider," he said, voice full of hatred, full of wrath, his sword glowing and humming with righteous anger, "why do you feel the need to kill him? What wrong has he done to you?"
"He's a boy," the soldier spat, eyes full of disgust. "Boys are a threat to the Queen, so they must be eliminated."
"How bold you are," the man told the solider, "to say that to the First King's face."
The soldier's eyes widened, but before he could reply, the man stabbed his neck, and the soldier moved no more. No regret lingered in the man's eyes as he cleaned his sword free of the blood, ignoring the lifeless corpse that lay on the ground. Matter of fact, he seemed satisfied. The man— no, the First King— turned to face Link, eyes soft.
"Are you ok?" He asked. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you sooner. The Royal Guard won't hunt you down anymore, though, I promise."
Link had been scared, but he nodded. The promise had seemed too good to be true, though. But it was true. He wasn't bothered again, not for years. And even then, the man appeared again. He wondered how the man always seemed to know when he was in danger.
The man from that day, the Hero of Legend realized, was none other than the Chosen Hero. How hadn't he connected the dots before? Everything made so, so much more sense now.
They say that if you attempt to harm a boy in the Royal Family, a god will appear, his wrath consuming all. That was how the new legend across the eras went. Perhaps it was truer than the Hero of Legend believed it to be.
He was still shaken up from that day, the day the Hero of Skies emerged from the portal, covered in blood that was not his own, in an effort for vengeance. That day would haunt the Legendary Hero for the rest of his days, he was certain. Despite that though, he couldn't help but be in awe. He had never expected to meet what he had for so long considered his divine protector. The term had proved more accurate than he'd initially thought, the Legendary Hero realized with amusement.
The chance to thank him for that day didn't come for a while, but he still thanked him.
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." He admitted to the knight, who just frowned, clearly upset at the statement. "Thank you."
The Skyloftian put on a soft smile, one hand on the veteran's shoulder.
"Of course, you're family after all, aren't you? And I would never let any harm come to my family. After all, as I've said before:
no descendant of mine deserves to have to run for their life just for existing. I'm not about to make an exception for you, Bun."