Malanya’s Spirited Punishment

The sun rose slowly over the rocky peaks and slopping hills of southern Hyrule. A chill morning breeze swept through the area, teasing the tall, dry grass favored by Hylian wild horses, as it made its way through a secluded alcove and then across the plains to the north as it wended north towards Lake Hylia.
The shaded alcove, almost fully surrounded by tall white stones, had been lost to the people of Hyrule in the past century; a forgotten place of reverence, like so many others throughout the land of lost ruins and reclaimed wilderness.
There were a few, however, who knew of the importance of this place. Hylians who were aware of the shrine hidden at the heart of the alcove, and the powerful, if eccentric, fairy that called it their home.
One such Hylian currently made his way up the shallow slopes that led to the sacred fountain, his scruffy, shoulder-length, dirty blond hair and loose blue tunic rippling in the wind channeled between the rough rocky walls that flanked the grassy path.
The young man grunted a sigh of relief his destination came into view, a large, purple flower housing a small, preternaturally reflective pond in its perianth. The warrior took a moment to adjust his belt and then rolled his shoulders, his supplies and weapons literally weighing heavily on his shoulders.
Link hiked up the last few dozen yards of hillside to the cluster of orange mushrooms that formed a natural ramp to the fountain proper. He stopped to scrape the mud from his leather traveling boots before he stepped up to the shimmering waters.
“Ah,” a voice boomed from within the pool, unhindered by the magical waters it emanated from, “boy, you have returned once again to visit me.”
Link waited silently as a large hand rose from the pool. Dainty fingers, each as long as he was tall, wrapped around the edge of the pool. The hand was joined shortly by another, both ending at a large, metal bracelet with no visible arms beyond the wrists. The hands still appeared to exert force, however, pushing against the flower as the rest of the fountain’s inhabitant rose from the sparkling, mossy-green water.
The fairy’s face, if they had one, was obscured by a large wooden mask in the shape of a stylized horse head; a pink stripe ran along the middle of the mask, spreading out at the base and at the top. Within the pink fan of color at the top of the mask were a series of blue and black triangles. White lines, three on each side of the pink line, flanked down the sides of the mask on the muzzle, giving the mask more definition and the illusion or roundness. The mask rotated in a circle as the rest of the fairy rose up. Their upper body consisted of a thick, arcing spinal column that ended at their waist, disappearing into a patchwork skirt that draped down over their lower body, disappearing into the waters of the fountain and masking the being’s true size.
They looked down at the Hylian, painted-on black eyes focused on him, though it was unclear if the fairy god of horses, Malanya, actually saw through them, much like it was unclear if they heard through the blue ears adorning the top of the mask or smelled through the painted on nostrils at its base.
Link rested his hands on his belt as the fairy tilted their head from one side to the other in contemplation.
“My boy, have you come to me to revive yet another horse spirit? This is becoming an all too frequent occurrence, you know.”
Link nodded absently as he reached into one of his belt pouches, searching for usual payment for Malanya’s services.
“Oh, oh my,” the fairy murmured, their usual joviality draining from their voice, “this is, well, this is something, my boy.”
Link, preoccupied with his struggles to withdraw an oblong bright orange root vegetable from his belt pouch without spilling a large number of loose items on the ground, failed to notice the change in the fairy’s demeanor.
“Oh this won’t do at all.”
Link grunted in relief as he pulled the endura carrot from his pack. He turned and dutifully held the root up to the spirit with both hands.
“No, my boy,” the fairy’s mask tilted to one side, then the other, “this is not the solution to this problem.”
Link paused, finally noticing Malanya’s change of tone.
“My boy, the spirits tell me you’ve been rather,” the mask spun around completely, “callous towards them of late.”
Link lowered the carrot slowly, holding it close to his chest as his gaze remained on the fairy hovering over him.
“Perhaps my power has caused you to become less caring, less cautious, less understanding of the horses who serve you. Has my ability to bring them back led you to think they feel no pain? Do you believe their suffering is of no consequence when they can simply be revived by me for the price of a simple carrot?”
Link opened his mouth to reply, but one of the giant hands shushed him.
“Do not speak, you have nothing of value to add. I can hear the cries and torments of the horses you have so mistreated. You have failed to respond with the love and respect that they have shown you, and a price needs be paid for such selfish transgressions.”
Purple haze gathered around the flower, building in density as it plumed outward from the fountain. Link dropped the carrot and stepped back slowly, hands instinctively reaching for his sword and shield, heartrate climbing as chill air swirled around him.
“And for my assessment, you would attack me? I’ve done nothing but aid you, warrior, and your response to my concern for my kin is threats? Truly, you must be taught a harsh lesson about empathy and serving others as they have served you.”
Link once again opened his mouth to respond, to defend himself from the allegations levied against him, but the fairy’s voice boomed louder than ever, drowning him out.
“Silence,” the fairy’s voice rumbled, the purple fog gusting out in all directions, blocking out the late-morning sunlight as it grew increasingly voluminous, “the horses you have tormented have spoken. Any defense you would attempt weak excuses and selfish deflections. The stupid brays of an arrogant, selfish donkey.”
Undeterred, the Hylian stepped forward and shouted his retort, “Hee-haw.”
Link froze, eyes wide.
Malanya’s head tilted back, a playful, malevolent laugh echoing between the rocks in a way that felt like it was pelting the young warrior from all directions.
Link swallowed nervously, then opened his mouth and tried to speak again, “H, haw.”
He gasped and covered his mouth in stunned fear.
“Yes, much better,” Malanya looked down on Link, “a good start indeed. Now then,” the purple fog swirled, energy prickling the air as it rotated around the pair, forming a thick circulating fogbank, “you’ve pushed many a steed to their limit, driving them relentlessly despite their cries of exhaustion. Perhaps your Hylian ears are simply unable to properly understand their equine calls.”
Link tensed as a pulse of energy shot from the fog and struck him in the back, arcing up his spine and into his neck before splitting out and dancing into his ears. Once there, it cascaded into a tickling sparkle of energy that made his ears twitch, slightly and erratically at first, but then more forcefully and regularly, settling into a regular pulse that caused them to tilt upward, each time gaining a bit of momentum, gearing up for one big push.
With a final burst of force, his ears flexed up, then stretched, growing longer and wider. They continued to grow, pushing past the top of his head and still going for several more inches. Just as they stopped growing, another ripple of energy cascaded up them, spreading thick brown fur along the outside from the base on up, transitioning into a darker brown for the final third of his ears. The energy curled around the pointed tips of his ears and ran back down along the inside of the ears, leaving thick white fur throughout the interior of his new ears.
Link gasped and brayed as his hands explored his transformed ears, struggling to vocalize his dismay. He wrapped his hands around the tips and pulled his new ears down in front of his face, looking at the pair of handsome donkey ears that now adorned his head.
“Indeed,” the fairy mused, hands playfully tapping the side of their pond, “a good start towards reparation, I do say.”
Link turned his attention back to the fairy, releasing his ears, braying in surprise as they sprang up and wobbled dumbly above his head. He tried once more to plead for mercy, braying fearfully, but forcefully. Malanya responded to his desperate vocalizations with giddy laughter.
“Such a wonderful sound, much better than your usual mutterings of faux apology and false reverence.”
Seeing how little concern the fairy paid his fears, Link started to back away, waiting for the fairy’s gaze to move off him as they tilted their head back in a forceful wave of laughter. As soon as Malanya’s gaze was off Link, he turned to run, sprinting as fast as he could towards the swirling wall of fog circling the fairy pond.
“Oh, my dear boy,” Malanya sighed, “you wouldn’t be trying to turn tail and run, would you?”
Link had just reached the thick fog when a bolt of energy arced from it, striking him directly in the chest and throwing him through the air back towards the fountain, an arc that ended with him sliding through the mud and coming to a stop at the mound of fungus he’d been standing on minutes ago. He rolled to his hands and knees, but before he could push to a standing position, a pulse of energy rippled through him, causing his muscles to tense, locking him in place.
“Hee, hee-haw,” He brayed, struggling to push or pull or move from his position on the ground. His ears twitched as energy rolled down his spine, building in strength as it went, tugging at muscles and forcing the transforming Hylian to slowly arc his back, hips pushing up as his knees rose from the ground. The wave reached the base of his spine, pooling there as it percolated, building into a coiled ball of energy.
Link brayed as energy pulsed through him, pressure billowing up and pushing out, forming a small lump at the base of his spine. A second pulse pushed it out further, the lump poking against the seat of his pants. He brayed as another pulse forced his hips to push up further, the growth straining the rear seam of his pants. He struggled to move, but could do nothing but bray as ever stronger pulses added mass to his growing tail, straining the stitching of his pants. With one final, powerful pulse of magical energy, the tail ripped free, splitting the rear of his pants and pushing into the air, swishing up and standing straight and tall above the warrior. It shivered in the air as the same light brown fur that covered his ears covered the tail, ending with a black tassel puffing out at the end before the appendage dropped to the ground.
The paralyzing enchantment released Link and he flopped to his knees, struggling to regain his senses as he let out several wild, course brays. He shivered as his tail swished along the damp ground, the sensations of his tail touching things rippling up his spine and tickling his brain with foreign sensations.
“Now then,” Malanya spoke, the joviality filtering back in to their voice, “where were we?”
Link shook his head, trying to ignore the weight of his heavy ears, took a deep breath, struggling to disregard the animalistic brays, and pushed to his feet, working to take no notice of his tail swishing instinctively to help him balance.
“You’ve been callous towards riding your mounts over rough terrain, guiding them along steep precipice and uneven terrain alike. Clearly you lack understanding of how difficult it can be to maintain proper balance on a set of hooves.”
Link had barely regained his balance and turned towards the fairy when a new bolt of energy struck him like a lightning bolt from above. It arced down his spine, splitting at his waist and running down his legs into his feet, where the energy popped with a force that pushed him forcefully to his toes.
“Hee-haw,” he gasped, stumbling forward, then back, struggling to remain upright as the energy rippled through and ensnarled his feet, tugging and pulling and reshaping them. Link’s boots felt strangely ill-fitting as his toes merged and became encased in thick enamel. He stumbled back, the calf of his boots slipping down thinning legs. He brayed in terror as one of his boots came free, revealing a thick, glossy black hoof where his foot had been. He soon stumbled out of his other boot, stomping clumsily in the mud as he a chuckle drew his attention back to the fairy.
“A proper set of four hooves.”
“Haw,” Link brayed fearfully as the pulse of energy rippled back up his legs, meeting at the base of his tail before catapulting up his back and then cascading over his shoulders and down his arms. The energy prickled as it spread into his hands and each of his fingers. He felt them tense and straighten, muscles pulling tight as his fingernails grew thick and black.
The Hylian cringed as the energy drew his fingers together, then curled around them, forcing them into fists. He let out a course grunt as he struggled against the changes, focusing on keeping his fingers straight, resisting the magic’s influence as it tried to pull them in on themselves and reshape them into hooves.
At first, it seemed to be working, the transition going much slower than it had for his feet. He held his muscles tense, soreness growing in his arms and hands as he struggled, holding the change at bay for as long as he could, desperate to resist the curse reshaping his body.
But it was a losing battle.
He cried out as his muscles reached the point of exhaustion and he could resist no longer. First one hand, then the other, closed completely into a tight fist, the black keratin spreading quickly from his fingernails over his hands, covering them completely. Prickles and pops of magic rippled through his changing hands as bones reshaped and muscles shifted. Despite all his struggles, it took mere seconds for his hands to be transformed into the hooves of a donkey.
Link wobbled on hooved legs and his arms flailed, his ears bouncing about as his tail swished wildly. Malanya laughed heartily at the sight of the transforming man struggling to remain upright as white fur washed up his arms, his gauntlets coming loose and getting tossed away in his flailing as his arms reshaped into something more asinine.
Malanya sighed, “Enough tomfoolery,” one of their floating hands rose up, pointing towards the staggering warrior and then making a forceful flicking motion.
Link brayed loudly as a bolt of energy punched him in the back, knocking him forward to his hands and knees. The bolt of magic rippled over his entire body. His back arced and his knees pushed from the ground. He wanted to get up, or struggle, or try to run again, but the magic held him in place, controlling his movements. He could do nothing but tilt his head back as the force built to a burbling peak.
“Hee-haw.”
His legs popped as bones reformed. His body pulsed out and swelled in size. Pressure built in his head and his teeth grew larger. He was horrified as another buildup followed the first, increasing swiftly before overflowing into another burst of magical energy.
“Hee-haw.”
He was pushed away from the ground as his arms lengthened. His legs snapped and shifted into sturdy, proper hind legs. His once loose pants pulled tight around swelling calves and widening hips. His iconic blue hero’s tunic felt tight around his shoulders and chest. His jaw popped and pushed out slightly, tan fur washing over his nose and lips.
“Hee-haw.”
His belt popped, leather snapping and metal bucket cracking as his increasing mass became too much for it to contain. The inner seam of his pants split open, revealing white-furred calves. The shoulder seams of his tunic were pulled apart as his shoulders grew broad. His neck stretched longer and grew thicker, the collar of his tunic tight around it. His face pushed forward, brown fur growing over his cheeks. His blond hair faded to black as it restyled into a wild mane, forming a line down his lengthening neck.
“Hee-haw.”
Link’s destroyed belt fell to the ground, his ears twitching as his gear clattered heavily in the dirt. His pants ripped along the back and along the outside seams. His tunic split along the back, revealing a fully furred and muscled form. His neck popped as it reached proper length, as did his muzzle as the brown fur from his cheeks met the tan fur covering his nose and mouth.
“Hee-haw.”
His destroyed clothing grew increasingly uncomfortable as it clung awkwardly to his reformed body, the legs of his pants hanging around his ankles as bits of torn tunic draped from his forelegs. An instinctive impulse rippled down his spine to his legs, and he kicked forcefully. Then kicked again, and again.
Malanya chuckled, “Oh, my dear boy, allow me to assist one of my own.”
Prickles of magic teased through the air before coalescing and arcing towards the hero turned donkey. As the energy struck the tattered remains hanging from his form, the clothes pulsed with purple light before disintegrating into the same purple fog that surrounded them.
Link stomped about in confusion, struggling to fully parse what had happened to him. He felt clumsy and uncoordinated on his hooves, and his body felt too big and bulky to control as he desired. He shook his head, his black mane bouncing as he did. His focus returned as something teased his nose, the smell of something desirable.
Something tasty.
He brayed softly as he followed the scent, his eyes quickly falling on the orange tuber he’d dropped earlier. His enlarged gut grumbled with hunger as he moved closer to the carrot, his movements coordinated for the first time since he’d started changing. He sniffed at the endura carrot a few times before biting into it.
“Ah, already getting into the proper mindset, I see.”
Link’s ears twitched as he tried to parse the fairy’s words. Something about it was concerning, but his emotions ebbed as the wonderful taste of the carrot washed over his tongue and down his throat. His tail swished in contentment as he finished the snack, enjoying the flavor more than he ever did as a Hylian.
“Now then,” Malanya raised their head to the sky, “ah yes, I see the soul in need whom you shall learn your lesson from. Be a good servant, learn to be humble, and in time, perhaps one year for each horse you’ve mistreated, I’ll consider returning you to your true form.”
Link was unable to do more than bray in confusion before the cyclone of fog closed in on him, surrounding him in a dense purple haze that tickled his body with electricity for but a moment before everything went dark.

The noonday sun warmed the grassy valley as the merchant stumbled into the large ring of trees surrounding the stable. He muttered dramatically as he slumped down, dropping his large, beetle-shaped backpack to the ground behind him. He wiped the sweat from his pageboy brow and brushed the dust from his blue shorts before taking a seat on a nearby log.
“Shaping up to be a warm day,” Beedle sighed as he dabbed his forehead once again with his neckerchief. He stretched his back, arms over his head. He let out another forced sigh as he dropped his arms to his lap.
“Hee-haw.”
The merchant perked up, looking around for the source of the clear as day donkey bray. He’d not seen another merchant as he came into the stables, and stables didn’t have their own stock. He stood up and went to look for the source.
Link shook his head as he stumbled, once again uneasy on his hooves. He’d no sooner felt completely suffocated by the purple fog than he found himself stumbling about in the open behind a stable. He looked around, taking in landmarks as he tried to figure out which stable he’d been sent too, reasoning if he could get to someone who knew him, they could help remove his curse and restore him to his true Hylian self.
His searching gaze fell on the timid merchant coming around the corner. He’d dealt with him several times, his tail swishing in recognition as he called out to Beedle.
“Hee-haw.”
Both the merchant and the donkey seemed caught off guard by the sudden bray. Beedle approached the donkey slowly hands up, trying to calm the seemingly wild animal. He didn’t see any markings or barding on the animal, nothing that would indicate who, if anyone, the donkey belonged too.
“Hee-haw.”
Link struggled in vein to form words as the merchant reached his side, shushing him in a very patronizing way. He shook his head in annoyance, aggravated by his inability to simply tell Beedle who he was.
In an effort to calm the animal, Beedle reached out cautiously, placing a hand atop the donkey’s head and petting softly.
The sensation of a hand stroking his mane sent shivers of contentment through Link. He felt suddenly at ease, his concern draining away as he was pet softly by his owner.
“Hang on,” Beedle turned, pulling his hand away from the donkey, “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”
Link wobbled slightly as clarity returned. Owner? The stray thought ratcheted up his concern tenfold, Malanya had something much darker and punishing in mind than even Link’s darkest fear. He had to get out of here before Beedle came back.
“Here we go.”
Link brayed and shook his head as he saw Beedle return from around the stable, now carrying a length of rope tied into a loose lasso. As the merchant drew closer, Link stumbled on unfamiliar legs, barely able to maintain balance.
“Shh,” Beedle shushed, “it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need some help with my merchandise.”
Link let out a sharp grunt as he wobbled out an unsuccessful effort to turn around. Beedle easily closed with him and slipped the rope around his head, pulling it tight around the donkey’s neck.
A pulse of warmth rippled through his body as the rope pulled tight. He rose to a comfortable position on his four hooves, turning towards his owner with natural ease.
Link struggled as the word slipped through his thoughts again. He wasn’t supposed to be a donkey, much less a donkey owned by anybody. Despite his internal pushback, as light tug on the lead was enough to get him to follow Beedle back to the front of the stable, settling into an even trot as he moved.
As they rounded the corner, Beedle’s giant beetle shaped backpack came into view, firing another prickling pulse through Link, cascading over his back, making him feel suddenly lacking in a way he couldn’t properly describe. Beedle tied the rope to his pack and turned back to the donkey, patting him softly between the ears, pushing more contentment through him.
“Wait here while I get you registered.”
As Beedle walked to the stable manager, Link’s senses surfaced again. He tried to pull away, but tensed as he pulled the rope tight, his body relenting. He couldn’t struggle against the rope.
It would upset his owner.
Link brayed in mounting worry as the submissive mindset gained strength. He had to escape before it got any worse. The thought of being Beedle’s donkey, hauling his goods around, following him everywhere and being at his every command filled him with, with…
Well, pride, actually.
His owner would be so proud to have a donkey who was so helpful and well behaved. His tail swished and he brayed softly as warmth rippled through him.
“Okay,” Beedle said as he returned and set a bundle of leather and metal down between them, “we’re all set.”
Link glanced down at the collection of straps and buckles, his mind racing as he recognized it as barding.
His barding.
Despite his renewed concern, he couldn’t make himself move as Beedle picked up the largest part of the harness and flung it over Link’s back. The weight hit like a boulder smashing through a frozen puddle, sending a massive pulse of pleasant warmth through him.
His mind stumbled as the barding settled over his broad shoulders and flanks. Link felt himself sinking into a warm haze of comfort. The weight felt right, like it belonged there. It belonged on his back. He needed it so he could carry his owner’s wares.
Link brayed dully as Beedle set to work fastening straps and pulling them tight.
Each tug was another pulse of soft happiness, Link’s thoughts slipping deeper and processing things slower. The barding felt as right for him to wear as the hero’s tunic had just a few hours ago. He let out a weak bray as he tried in vain to pull himself from the soft cocoon of servitude. He was the hero of legend, not a merchant’s pack donkey.
Beedle patted his donkey on the head and started sorting his goods, pulling out bags, cases, and bottles, deciding which he’d carry and which would go to his trusty pet. He chuckled to himself at the thought, his pleasant demeanor eliciting a similarly happy bray from his donkey.
“Alright, let’s get you all packed up.”
Link gasped mentally as his body moved closer to the piles of gear, his tail swishing anxiously as his owner started to pile gear on his back and tie things to his barding. Each additional weight was another burden on his focus, burying him under additional layers of contentment and pride.
He could carry so much.
He was such a strong donkey.
He was so proud to be helping his owner.
Donkey struggled against the overwhelming tide, barely able to push back. He had to focus for several seconds to remember his name was Link, much less that his owner’s name was...was…
He brayed weakly and shook his head.
“Is that too much?” Beedle whispered warmly, leaning over his donkey and petting his head softly, rubbing between his ears lovingly. The donkey calmed down as he did, which Beedle took to mean things were just fine.
With a smile, he turned to the last piece of barding, a bridle.
Link was sinking into the darkness of his own mind, slipping away beneath the simple contentment of being a good donkey for his owner. He was tugged down further as the leather was wrapped around his head and over his muzzle. He didn’t even flinch as the bit was offered to him, happily taking it in his mouth at his owner’s request.
Donkey brayed happily as his owner pet between his ears, tail swishing with pride. He was proud to be such a good donkey for his owner.
After a short while, Beedle left the stable, holding the lead of his new donkey, happy to be able to split his load for once in his life. He barely needed to lead, however, as the donkey dutifully kept pace with him, braying cutely as they set off on the trade routes of Hyrule.
Above them, the makeshift edifice of the god of horses looked on, the eyes of the wood and fabric idol glowing a soft, barely noticeable purple for a few seconds before fading with a nearly inaudible laugh that vanished on the wind.