Disclaimer and Notes: The Legend of Zelda and related characters are properties of Nintendo. This is a fan fiction and I seek no profit from it. This is meant to take place in any given LoZ game universe in which the Master Sword exists or can be imagined to exist: A Link to the Past? Ocarina of Time? Twilight Princess? Classic? Your choice.
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He staggered into the fairy spring, splashing knee-deep into the cool water. The sparkles surrounded him and dazzled his vision as the spring’s residents spun and danced around his body. The blood that was flowing down his legs and tainting the water stopped. He felt his wounds seal and the pain dissipate. However, he was still tired. The boy had been awake for almost two days now. He did not wish to ask too much of the fairies.
The boy collapsed on the green earthen shore of the spring and spread himself out in the soft grass. The wind echoed softly in the branches of the trees that stretched over the spring. The fairies floated, leaving their sparkling trails to glitter in his periphery. He held his sword, safely in its scabbard, close to his chest. Ever since he’d acquired it, he wanted to keep it close at all times, even though he knew that he was probably perfectly safe here. Fairy springs were holy places, filled with sacred power. Field-monsters rarely ventured into them.
With his shield by his side and clutching his sword as though it were a stuffed animal from his childhood, the young man drifted into a deep and peaceful sleep.
It was his name, spoken in a voice that was deep and strong. He felt fingers brush his cheek. His eyes fluttered open.
The boy sat up suddenly. He beheld a glowing figure with a feminine form. She had long hair, made of light. Her white-gray- and occasionally many-colored shimmering eyes shifted like oil on water and had no pupils. She looked like she might have been wearing a long robe of some sort, but Link could not tell. The woman withdrew her hand and sat beside him.
“Are you a fairy?” Link asked, looking up at her in awe.
Ghostly trails ran from her. When he looked at the figure more closely, Link realized that her bottom half and left side grew more and more spectral until wisps and trails ran into the sword and scabbard. He took it and laid it out beside him on the grass, between him and the woman of light, respectfully.
“I am the Master Sword,” the woman explained, “and you are dreaming. This is the easiest way to speak with you.”
“I was told it was a living blade,” Link replied, rubbing his head. He smiled gently. “I just didn’t know it was a girl.”
“I am not,” the spirit of the sword replied, “I am sexless. This form is for your benefit. It seems that you have a habit of listening to females.”
“You chose me, right?” Link asked. “I… I don’t know if I can do it… It’s all so hard. I don’t think it’s a good thing for the world to hang on just one person. What if I fail?”
“I believe in you,” the Master Sword said. “I wouldn’t have tossed in my lot with someone I didn’t think was strong enough. You have a strong and determined spirit.”
“Have I been… doing well? Honoring you properly?” Link asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the spirit and the physical sword.
The spirit of the sword smiled serenely. “You have done an excellent job of keeping my edge honed and keeping me clean, but truth be told, I love the slick feel of blood. Don’t be appalled at my words, Hero. I am a sword, after all.”
Link gave her a little nod. She took his hand in hers.
“I know you don’t like it much,” she said gently, “and that’s okay. I feel the thrill you feel in victory, but you do what you must. I know that you pity, above all else, those creatures that have been transformed by evil. If you did not have a kind heart, I would not have chosen you. The splitting of skin and the hewing of flesh are my domain and mine to revel in. Your heart is strong enough to wield my power without succumbing to it.”
“Succumbing to it?” Link asked, “I thought yours was a holy power.”
“I am a sword,” the Master Sword answered, “I serve you. I was created just for you. What you do with me is up to you, but I warn you that if you ever use me for an unjust cause… if you ever turn me upon an innocent, I will reject you. Your death will surely follow soon thereafter.”
Link noticed as her eyes took on a hard look, even with their absence of normal features. They went from “kind” to “fierce” in an instant.
“The nature of any power,” the spirit of the sword continued, “is that it must be used carefully. Power itself is a weapon and any weapon can be easily misused. I was made for Link, and Link is strong and innocent enough to wield me, though he may not feel innocent anymore.”
The spirit cupped Link’s face in her hands and brought her forehead to hers. “Don’t worry, child. I put my faith in you.”
She separated from him and ran her hands along his left arm. Link felt a peculiar sensation, as if she were massaging the muscles. He looked at her, puzzled.
“It seems you’ve been hurting yourself a little. You need to learn to swing me with a little more grace. It will come in time.”
The spirit of the sword dissipated, drifting apart and away like leaves in the wind, her light melding back into the sword.
Link awakened, bathed in pre-dawn gloaming, to curious fairies sitting on his chest, his nose and his forehead. He was clutching the Master Sword in its scabbard to his chest, just as he had been when he laid down on the cool grass the night before. He got up and spent the rest of the morning practicing his sword techniques.