If I made any typos, please tell me, otherwise I may never notice. This is just a oneshot depicting the boss battle for the City in the Sky.


Death of a Dragon

Water was whipping Link's face, the drops bullet-sharp as the wind chucked them. The knifing gusts cut straight through his tunic, fighting to chill the core of his heat. Squinting against the elements, he pointed his metal-fisted arm through the wind at the massive, reddish dragon, hovering, back turned to peer through the wind and rain for Link's tiny form.

The Hero felt a little prick of satisfaction at his ambush, but the elation couldn't survive the stinging rain and his weary muscles. He clenched his fist and the clawshot launched, reeling away from him at top speed and imbedding itself in the blue circle on the dragon's back, it's weak point.

With a surge Link was yanked through the air. He flew, the open expanse of air beneath him triggering fear in his stomach. But the next minute he hit the dragon's back.

It roared as he unsheathed the master sword and hacked, scourged the soft blue flesh. With one hand he hung on, the dragon writhing beneath him, it's ribs shaking with the force of its roar, leaving his legs tingling when at last he sliced deep enough, and felt the dragon scream to a higher pitch.

Unconscious, Argorok began to plummet. Link's stomach swooped and he was whirling chaotically through the air, the sharp point of the master sword whistling in the wind. Maybe as a kid Link never ran with scissors, but as an adult he did things like fall fifty feet holding a sword.

The dragon crashed to the ground, forked tongue lolling. The ground rushed into view and Link hastily pulled himself into a roll, somersaulting away from the beast, roll after roll. In another moment he was aiming at the great pillars, and in the next flying at them as he launched his clawshots, the sound of metal on metal fighting the wind's roar as he slammed towards a pillar.

Above him, wavering tremulously, was a peahat. Link took aim and fired, clawed hooks digging into the peahat's side and his weight sending down a shower of dirt into his hair and down his tunic, and flying in the wind.

Link hung there, shoulder straining to under his weight, as Argorok, eyes unfocused from the fall but his massive body rising on black webbed wings, shook his head and found the tiny Hero hanging in the air.

It was so far down. So far down. So far that Link's soles tingled in his boots. But his eyes were ice as he met the dragon's gaze, seeing the fire that burned behind them.

That fire leapt into the dragon's throat and burst, blue and white, towards the Hero. Deftly he aimed the clawshot at the next peahat, heat billowing rain to steam mere feet away. He launched the clawshot, but as the chain flew out, the fire leapt upon him. Blisters erupted across his skin, his face contorting in agony when at last clawshot found peahat and he was dragged away.

The wind and pellet rain terrorized his fresh burns, aided by the maddening dirt that fell upon him. Biting back the urge to scream, he raised his burnt arm and clawshotted again.

Pain, fear, and adrenaline churned Link's nerves into a dizzying concoction. He clamped onto, and was hurled at, peahat after peahat, losing contact with reality. But at last the roar of fire-breath behind him rumbled to a halt and he turned, hanging from his scorched arm, and shot at the dragon's back.

He released the peahat-clawshot which suspended him, and half a second into the fall he was hurled at Argorok, slamming into the draconian beast full speed.

He thrust the master sword into the heart of the blue, sinking it deep, his arm wailing madly with pain. But then the sheer adrenaline in his blood overran the pain receptors and his pain vanished like mist as the dragon beneath him shrieked, his winging faltering against the high winds. One last inhale, sides expanding beneath Link, Argorok blew his last breath, wreathing it in flame.

Link held the master sword for dear life. It became a saddlehorn, and he was the rider of a fire-breathing beast, and in that second, with one last cry, its head went limp and its flame plumed into mere smoke amid the rain.

Bracing his boots against the red scales of Argorok's back, Link pulled out the master sword. He only had just enough time to slip it back into its sheath on his own back before he was tumbling in the wind, backwheeling through the air, the monster, now far above him, turning to smoke.

Link's sight ricocheted and he reached his arms out wide, air dragging past them as the storm gray sky was wiped to white. Link's body tingled with freefall for another moment, and then the ground splattered against his back, the Master Sword catching his shoulder blade and wrenching it torturously crooked.

And from the smoke of Argorok came a shard of ash-colored glass, the last mirror shard.

Burnt arm searing and shoulder dislocated, Link didn't dare move. His whole back was numb from impact with the earth. But this wasn't the earth, he thought, not really. This was the City in the Sky, he was far above the earth. Here, the air was thin and the clouds an ocean. With one last shiver Link's body accepted the end of the fight, his injuries surfacing and pain washing his brain of thought. The wind cooled the sweat that soaked the undershirt beneath his chainmail. He listened to the wind play with the grass, like a harsher version of the comforting breezes from n Ordonian meadow long ago, a world below. He used to lay his head back in the grass and listen to how it closed him off from the world. Eyes slipping closed, he did the same.

Midna emerged, but Link was deaf to her words as wind fingered the air, ringing filled his ears, and pain and weariness drained her voice of meaning, sealing him off for a moment. He closed his eyes. Now the wind had slowed and was tickling his damp hair against his forehead.

Link felt himself fill with energy again, felt the blisters from his burn sink back into his skin, his shoulder slide soothingly back and repair itself, his muscles empty of soreness and his skin wash of bruises. Lightness returned to his eyelids, and a new vigor rose into his bones. He was stronger than he had been before. He sat up. He'd forgotten the Heart Container.

"Link, hurry," Midna said urgently, throwing a warp unto the floor. Link got to his feet and approached it, soaking in the sky, which was filled with light again. The storm clouds had gone and taken the smoke that was all which was left of Argorok with them. The job of the Hero never ended, did it? The Mirror Chamber awaited him, Link thought as he collected the fourth and final shard. He'd done it. A simple Ordonian herder, dragged into this by a fist on the other side of the twilight veil. He'd probably killed that fist by now, he thought, remembering the faceless twili beast who'd held him. He'd killed so many, Argorok included, that he must have. And if he hadn't, Link made a vow that he would, before this was over.

He couldn't risk anyone else being dragged into this. But then again, Hyrule couldn't afford for him to not have been.

Link stepped into the warp and felt his body slide away from him, up into the air. Though they were so high up he didn't think it was possible to go much further.

When he could see again, he saw a canon. He felt tired now, longing to crash in Kakariko village, but he figured being propelled towards the earth at Midna-knows how many miles per hour would wake him up a bit.

He still had to go to the Mirror Chamber. The world wasn't saved yet.