Chapter 1: New Moon
Chapter Text
“This is weird, right?” Four asked. He frowned at the unconscious body before them, and then glanced around the room, somewhere between hesitance and alarm. “This is weird.”
“It’s a little weird,” Warriors offered, but even he sounded distant and unsure.
“Understatement of the fucking millennia,” Legend said. He squinted. “How old is he? Twelve?”
Wild reached out and brushed a finger across the body’s cheek. Then he licked his finger. “Eleven,” he decided, smacking his lips.
“Hey, what the fuck.”
“Dirt tastes different depending on age—”
“No, don’t explain it! Why are you like this, I hate you so much—”
An argument broke out. Legend snarked at Wild, Wild doubled down on his broken definition of ‘normal,’ and Hyrule chimed in, somehow managing to agree with both of them at the same time. Which caused Legend to snark harder, and Wild to elaborate further, and Hyrule to—
Well. The tone of it grew heated, but it was obvious that no one was truly angry. It was easier to yell at each other about the identification of age via dirt than to acknowledge their fear.
Normally, someone would be interrupting them, keeping the group on track. But Twilight was in the middle of a mid-twenties crisis, Warriors was still processing everything, and Time—
Time was laid out on the bed, unconscious. He was also eleven years old, apparently.
Wind watched the whole affair play out. He sat on a chair in the back corner, knees hugged to his chest, and he glared at the sleeping child. Fucking Time. Fucking Time, and his dumb rules, and his disapproving glares and his patronizing protective streak and—
“Hey. You okay?”
“I’m fine!” Wind jerked away from the hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head around and bared his teeth.
Sky didn’t flinch. He only held his hands up in mild surrender, lifting an eyebrow.
Wind felt a little bad, but he didn’t apologize.
“I hope you’re not blaming yourself,” Sky said evenly.
“Why the fuck would I blame myself?” Wind snarled. “It’s his fault! ‘Stay away from the Wizzrobe, Wind. Be careful, Wind. Don’t be so reckless, Wind.’ Ha! What a fucking hypocrite!”
“Right,” Sky said. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know it’s not!”
“It’s normal to be worried. You don’t have to hide it.”
“Yeah, duh. I’m not Legend.”
“Seriously. None of us blame you in the slightest.”
“Are you fucking listening to me?”
Sky shrugged. “Just… let us know if you need anything.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Wind grumbled. He curled up even tighter and went back to glaring at the boy on the bed.
Next to him, Sky opened his mouth. Then he closed it, and then opened it again, lingering by Wind’s lonely corner—but after a short moment, he shook his head and walked away.
Time did not wake up for lunch. Or dinner. Nor did he wake up when Four stumbled over his sprained ankle and knocked Time’s chestplate to the ground. Nor did he wake up when Hyrule and Warriors got into a sneezing competition, and nor did he wake up when Wild poked him with a stick. Much to everyone’s distress.
There wasn’t much they could do, so they went to sleep. They didn’t bother to set a watch. Everyone was tired, and the inn was safe, so Twilight and Warriors must have decided there was no need.
That was why no one was there to welcome Time back to the land of the living. No one, that is, except for Wind.
The creaking of wood pulled Wind out of a shallow sleep, and he blearily opened his eyes. His neck hurt like hell—he’d fallen asleep in the chair, head lolling off to his left, and now he was paying the price.
But thoughts of pain quickly fled when he saw a pair of blue eyes staring him down from the other side of the room.
It was a new moon, so it was hard to see. But he couldn’t miss the child’s eerie stare even if he tried. Something about it dug under his skin, reminiscent of the way Time’s one-eyed glare could halt even Legend in his tracks.
Wind blinked. The kid blinked.
Twilight, useless second-in-command that he was, slept on.
Then, like lightning, the kid leapt to his feet and jumped out the window.
Wind threw himself forward, only to tangle himself up in fabric. He hit the floor with a dull thud.
“What the shitfuck is this?!” he yelped, yanking his limbs out of the cloth. “Who the fuck gave me a blanket, I’m not some fucking baby—”
“Ugh,” someone—Wild—grunted.
“Mmph?” Warriors’ tired voice sounded from the corner of the room.
“Sailor, you good?” Legend was already on his feet, left hand reaching for his bag. His eyes darted around the room, scanning for threats, and he shook Sky awake with his other hand.
“I’m fine!” Wind said. “Get Time!”
“Time?”
“Yeah, you know? Baby Time?!” Wind finally untangled himself from the blanket and reached for his sword. “He fucking ran!”
And just like that, the whole room was awake. Sky sat bolt upright, reaching for the Master Sword. Warriors grumbled to himself as he pulled on a shirt. Hyrule let an uncharacteristic fuck slip out of his mouth.
“Oh, effin’ heck,” Twilight spat, rubbing his eyes and staring at the empty bed where kid Time once slept.
Wind would normally laugh at Twilight’s self-censoring, but the fact of the matter was: there was an eleven-year-old Time on the loose. And judging by the blank stare and complete lack of recognition Wind had received: Time had no clue what was going on.
‘Oh effin’ heck,’ indeed.
Four and Hyrule stayed in the room. Partially because of Four’s sprained ankle from the last fight, and partially because there was a small chance that Time would return to the inn. Maybe. The chance was slim to none, but it was better to have people holding down the fort, anyway.
The rest of them split up to look for their wayward leader. There wasn’t much of a trail to go off of: the roads of the city were paved, and Time hadn’t bothered to leave bread crumbs for them to follow. Twilight and Wild headed east for the forest, Legend and Sky went west for the plains, and Warriors and Wind had an argument.
“North makes the most sense,” Warriors claimed.
“I’m telling you, he went to the gate,” Wind insisted.
“Why wouldn’t he go north? It’s the main road, easiest to see in the dark, and there a bunch of signs that say Kakariko Village is in that direction. It’s a familiar name, of course he’d follow it!”
“You think he can read?”
Warriors shot him a weird look. “He’s eleven. Why wouldn’t he be able to?”
Wind wondered if he should admit that he only learned his letters at the age of twelve, but he thought that might undermine some of his already flimsy credibility in the group.
“I just—I think he went to the lookout’s nest.”
It’s what he would have done. Unfamiliar room, unfamiliar people, in an unfamiliar city? First thing he’d do is rob them blind. Second thing he’d do is climb the tallest object in the vicinity and get a lay of the land.
“It’s called a gate tower,” Warriors helpfully supplied.
“Fuck you!” Wind snapped. “He’s at the gate tower, then.”
“They don’t let civilians enter guard posts. Especially not lost children at night. And why would he go there, when Kakariko is north of us?”
Wind let out a wordless screech of frustration.
They went north.
For the record, Wind did not dislike Warriors. He thought Warriors was kind, and funny, and cool. Cooler than Time, although to be honest—not a hard contest to win.
But damn if he wasn’t annoying at times. Wind wished that he got paired with Legend. Legend would’ve listened.
The problem with Warriors was that he was too old. He was a captain, a leader, a seasoned knight who had fought battles and seen horrors Wind could barely imagine—but even so.
He didn’t know what it was like to be four foot four, facing down monsters six times his size. He didn’t understand what adventure did to a kid. Warriors never had to assess risk through the eyes of a preteen. A sixteen-year-old would head for Kakariko, but an eleven-year-old would head for the most evil-looking landmark on the horizon.
So while Warriors marched forward, certain of his soldier’s intuition, Wind casually fell behind and peeled away from the path.
As soon as he was out of earshot, he sprinted. It might already be too late: Baby Time had a headstart, and they’d wasted precious minutes coming up with a search pattern. Heart racing, Wind ran through the streets, headed straight for the ‘gate tower.’
He was never sure why competent guards only ever worked at villainous fortresses, but he wasn’t about to complain. As he approached the tower, he scooped up a rock and chucked it at a nearby gaslamp. The sound of shattering glass drew the guards away from their posts, and while they were distracted, he slipped into the tower and began to climb.
He took the stairs, two steps at a time. In the end, though, he didn’t need the speed because halfway up, a small child crashed into him at full speed.
“Shit!” Wind hissed, after tumbling down a flight. He cradled his arm and scowled—it wasn’t broken or anything, he just hit his funny bone.
“Shit,” the kid repeated.
Wind blinked.
Baby Time—not that he expected a different kid, but still—stared back at him, wide-eyed. The whole sight was surreal: reimagining that stuffy old man as a child who was younger than him broke his brain a little. The Wizzrobe’s magic really went the whole mile: scars were gone, his other eye was present and normal, and his clothes all, thankfully, shrank with him.
Take that, Captain, Wind thought. Pirate's intuition beats soldier's intuition every time!
Baby Time tilted his head, completely silent.
“Um, hi,” Wind said. He tried for a non-threatening smile, but it was hard to be friendly when the kid looked like he was one step away from clipping into the seventh dimension. “I, um, I know this sounds weird, but you need to come with me, okay?”
Baby Time nodded, not even questioning it. He scrambled to his feet, brushed off his pants, and bounced up and down, impatient to leave.
“Huh,” Wind said. He got to his feet as well. “Let’s, uh, let’s get back down to ground level.”
“What does ‘shit’ mean?” Baby Time asked.
Oh. Oh, sweet Din, Nayru, and Farore.
“I can’t fucking deal with this right now,” Wind said. “It’s too early for this bullshit, I can’t—just—just come with me, kid, okay?”
Time walked fast. Wind always thought it was due to his freakishly long legs, but it turned out he was always like that, because Wind actually had to make an effort to keep up with Time’s hurried strides. They were practically jogging down the streets. Rushing to get to bed, probably? Time seemed like the kind of stick-in-the-mud who would have a bedtime and keep to it.
Finally, they reached a fork in the road. Time hesitated, frowning at the buildings. “Where…?”
“Go left,” Wind directed, since Time decided to charge ahead without acknowledging him in the slightest. Crazy how getting hit by a Wizzrobe and regressing to the age of a preteen changed absolutely nothing about their dynamic.
Time bit his lip. They turned left. As they sped down the roads, he patted his pockets, bleeding anxiety.
“Your stuff is still at the inn,” Wind informed him.
Time nodded and continued patting his pockets. His fingers twitched, moving in patterns too quick for Wind’s eyes to follow.
“Where are we?” Time asked, staring at the brickwork.
“Edis City,” Wind answered. It was somewhere in some unfamiliar Hyrule, but Time hadn’t slowed down or even asked Wind for a name, so he wasn’t going to broach the ‘chosen heroes across time and space’ subject until he had to.
Time knit his eyebrows together. “How far is that from Clock Town?”
Clock Town? The Hero of Time came from a place called Clock Town? Talk about fucking irony.
“How far?” Time repeated, breaking into Wind’s thoughts.
“Very far,” Wind admitted. They probably weren’t even in the right timeline to visit Time’s hometown or whatever.
Time hissed and picked up in speed.
“Take another left,” Wind warned him, jogging to keep up.
It wasn’t long before they reached the street with the inn. As soon as they turned the corner, a familiar form looked up, and their shoulders loosened.
“The Captain’s out for blood,” Legend informed Wind, like he didn’t just breathe out a massive sigh of relief upon seeing his return. “Why’d you ditch him?”
“‘Oh, hello, Sailor,’” Wind snarked. “‘Thanks for finding the asshole who interrupted our first stay in an actual bed in weeks.’”
“Don’t call the eleven-year-old an asshole,” Sky admonished. But he yawned while saying it, and his eyes had bags beneath them. They should’ve let Sky stay in the inn and sleep: he was going to be a snappy little bitch when the sun came up.
“And you’d better apologize to Warriors,” Sky tacked on. “I’d rather not deal with you two passive-aggressively sharpening your swords at each other for the next week.”
Wind amended his earlier thought: Sky was going to be a snappy little bitch, full stop.
Time frowned, tugging at the edges of his shirt. “You were looking for me?” he asked, quiet.
Sky blinked, as if suddenly reminded of why he was up at this hour to begin with. Wind had no clue how he could forget, because Baby Time made his skin crawl.
“How much do you remember?” Sky ventured.
Time crossed his arms. The expression on his face was eerily similar to the ‘stone-cold leader’ face he liked using as an adult, but coming from an eleven-year-old, it looked kind of funny.
Legend cleared his throat and stepped in. “We were traveling with you, and you got hurt,” he said: not a lie.
“So I was helping you,” Time said.
Wind tried not to roll his eyes. Hero to the core, he was.
“Yep, you were helping us,” Legend agreed. “That’s why when you ran, we wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Time frowned even harder, equal parts confusion and suspicion.
“You got hit in the head, so I’m not surprised that you don’t remember,” Legend supplied.
Time gingerly poked his own cheeks. He shook his head.
“It was a magical attack, so your face wouldn’t be sore,” Legend added. It was honestly incredible how he could tell nothing but the truth and still give away nothing at all.
“Magic,” Time echoed, taking in the explanation. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Then, within the span of a heartbeat, the blood drained out of his face and he sucked in a panicked breath.
Out of nowhere, Time latched onto Wind’s arm and tugged. Wind yelped, startled, but Time did not let go. Instead, he pulled him in close.
“How long was I asleep?!” He cried out, his fingernails digging into Wind’s arm. “It’s dark, now—was it two hours? Three hours?”
Wind shot Sky a questioning glance. The older teen blinked back and shrugged, equally lost.
“A whole day,” Wind answered carefully. He kept his voice slow and even, but he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to tiptoe around such an innocuous question.
“A day?!” Time stumbled back and let go of Wind’s arms, covering his mouth like he was going to be sick. “No, no, no. Twenty-four hours? How far is Clock Town? What time is it?”
“Ass-o-clock in the morning,” Legend answered.
“It’s dawn?!” Time patted his pockets again, even more aggressively. “I need to go back. Where’s my stuff, I need—”
“Hey,” Sky said, softening his voice. He stepped closer and bent down, placing a grounding hand on Time’s shoulder. “You alright?”
“This can’t be happening,” Time gasped. He pushed Sky away and looked up to the stars, searching for something. “Did they ask you to take me away? Is it still there? Did it already fall? What happened to it?!”
“What happened to what?” Wind asked, baffled beyond belief.
“The moon!” Time cried. He pointed at the sky and looked at him with crumbling composure. “What happened to the moon?!”
Chapter Text
Warriors stood up as soon as they opened the door. He took a step forward, eyes dark. “Hey,” he said, glaring at Wind. “Fancy seeing you here—”
Time barreled into the room, knocking Warriors to the side.
“Fucking told you,” Wind muttered, storming past the soldier. He didn’t spare him a single glance.
“Oh, good, you found him!” Hyrule said, looking up. He smiled at Time. “Hello! Do you remember—”
“Where’s my stuff?” Time demanded, cutting him off. His eyes skimmed over the armor, sliding past without any hint of familiarity.
“He doesn't remember,” Legend announced, as Time went over to the bed and flipped the mattress off the bed, searching for whatever it is he was looking for.
“Great,” Four said, and he threw his head back and grimaced. “This is fine! This is wonderful. We are so blessed, every day.”
“Well, on the bright side, we didn’t lose him,” Hyrule said. He was in a chair next to the second bed, and he held an ice pack over Four’s ankle which was propped up on a stack of pillows.
Sky walked over to a corner of the room. He knelt down and rummaged among the things there before lifting his head. “Hey, Time.”
Time did not respond.
Sky sighed. “Oh, right. Hey, uh, Link?”
Wind couldn't help but jump at the sound of his name. Instinctively, he turned his head. So did everyone else in the room. More importantly, so did Time.
“Your bag’s right here,” Sky said. He held out a leather traveling pack and shook it a little.
Time snatched it, and in one swift movement, undid the knot keeping the drawstring closed. He didn't even bother to say thank you before digging through its contents. Wow. And Wind thought adult Time was a jerk.
He would've continued to watch the Baby Time show, but then someone tapped him on the shoulder. Wind turned around, and then scowled when he saw Warriors peering down at him.
“I fucking found him, didn't I?” Wind snapped before Warriors could start on his lecture.
“You should have said something,” Warriors said, frowning.
“I did,” Wind insisted. He turned away and crossed his arms. “You were wrong. And we, we didn't have time to argue.”
“Sailor…”
Wind ignored him.
After a long moment, Warriors sighed. “Sorry,” he said. “I should've listened.”
“Damn right, you should have,” Wind muttered.
“But seriously, if you're going to run off like that, at least give me a heads up—”
“Where is it?!” Time’s high-pitched voice pierced the room, and everyone flinched.
“Where’s what?” Sky asked, stepping forward. He held his hands up, placating, but Time didn't seem to care.
“Did you take it?!” the kid demanded. He dropped his bag to the ground and lunged for Sky.
As he lunged, he hit a bedpost. Four yelped in pain as the impact jostled his ankle. Unperturbed, Time continued with his attack and knocked Sky to the ground.
“Whoa!” Warriors stepped away from Wind. He grabbed Time from under the arms and held him back, lifting him off the ground. Like a dying fish, Sky gasped for breath.
“Let go!” Time fruitlessly kicked the air, eyes watering. “You don't understand! I'm out of time, I need to go back, it’s too late—”
“Slow down!” Warriors ordered. “What do you need? I'll help you look.”
“I need—” Time’s breath hitched. “I need my ocarina.”
… What?
“Okay,” Warriors said, adopting a conciliatory tone. “I’ll help you look. Uh, why do you need your ocarina?”
“It’s a gift from Zelda,” Time sniffled. “And I need it because I have to go back to Clock Town.”
Wind frowned. A musical instrument was a strange thing to panic over, and an even stranger thing to need for going somewhere. Maybe he knew some transportation tunes or something? Legend had a magic fast travel woodwind, too. It scared the shit out of Wind when he saw it in use for the first time, watching Legend get carried off by a fucking bird.
“We’ll find your ocarina,” Warriors promised. He herded Baby Time away from a stunned Sky. “Here. Let’s look through this mysterious pile of adult-sized armor that has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
Wind frowned. While Warriors distracted Baby Time, he turned to the other heroes in the room and lifted his hands. “Is this a good idea?” he signed. “Giving him his ocarina, I mean?”
“Kid’s inconsolable, what are we supposed to do?” Legend signed back.
“Not give him an escape route?” Wind pointed out. “Is it magic? What if he uses it to run, and we can't follow? Do any of us actually know what Time’s ocarina does?”
Sky bit his lip and looked at Legend. On the bed, Four shrugged.
No one else added anything to the silent conversation, but no one else joined Warriors in the search, either.
A few minutes later, Twilight and Wild returned from the woods.
“Oh, you found him,” Wild said, upon seeing Warriors and the child systematically upturn everything in the room. “Where was he?”
“Gate tower,” Wind answered, more curt than he would have liked.
“Ooh,” Wild said, snapping his fingers. “I should've thought of that.”
Twilight frowned. “Why would he go to the tower?”
“No monsters to fight, just guards,” Wild said, listing off the reasons on his hands. “High vantage point means you get a good view of your surroundings. Good place to regain your bearings, easy to escape if you don't have a fear of heights. Also, the outposts in Legend’s era always have a pantry you can raid if you're low on supplies—”
“Ah. Gotcha.”
Oh, so things made sense when the seventeen-year-old explained it? This was discrimination. Maybe Wind will magically receive that ‘listen to me’ juice everyone else seemed to have when he turned fifteen.
“I’m guessing he doesn't remember anything,” Twilight commented, watching Warriors and Baby Time dig through the pockets of adult-sized Time.
Four shook his head.
“Great,” Twilight said, looking pained. “Okay. I got this. We got this.”
In Wind’s experience, having to say ‘we got this’ usually indicated the opposite, but no one ever asked him for his opinion.
Twilight cleared his throat and stepped further into the room. “Hey, uh, Link?”
Again, Wind jumped.
Time whipped his head around and stared at Twilight.
“Link,” Twilight said, a little more firmly this time. “We can call you that, right?”
Baby Time nodded.
“Okay! Link, do you know who we are?” Twilight asked.
“I—” Time cut off. A strange expression crossed his little face, and he swallowed.
“That’s okay,” Twilight said. He stepped a little closer to the kid, and Warriors backed off, eager to toss the babysitting duties to another party. “My name is Twilight.”
Oh, yeah. They never actually introduced themselves to Baby Time, did they?
Wait, if he had no clue who they were, then why did he come along with them?
“Twilight,” Time echoed, still staring at the farmhand. A look of pain crossed his face, and his voice wavered. “Your name. Your name is Twilight.”
“Yep!” Twilight said, grinning widely. “It's a weird name, I know. You can call me the Rancher, if that’s less weird?”
Time rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Twilight the Rancher. I'll… I’ll remember your name next time.”
Wind frowned.
“It's fine if you forget,” Twilight said. “There’s a lot of us, so I don't blame you for not remembering. Do you want to know everyone else's names, too?”
Time looked around the room, one face at a time. His eyes landed on Wind.
They stared at each other for a moment. Time still had that eerie, distant quality about him, but it felt a little more grounded this time. Grounded, yet a whole lot more fragile.
Time broke eye contact and stared at the ground. “You can tell me your names, if you want,” he mumbled.
Time was such a friendly and welcoming guy, really.
“I'm Sky,” Sky announced.
“Just call me Captain,” Warriors added.
“I'm the Traveler,” Hyrule piped up, and just like that, everyone went around introducing themselves. Throughout the process, Time didn't look up from the ground once.
Finally, Wild shared his title. After his introduction, he, and the rest of the room, turned to look at Wind.
Wind narrowed his eyes. Time was still staring at the ground.
“Learn my name on your own,” Wind decided.
Time jerked his head up, surprised.
“Hey!” Twilight hissed.
“What?” Wind protested. “It's not like—not like he’s gonna be here long, anyway! He's smart enough to figure out what to call me!”
Twilight scowled. “Yeah, but you can't just be rude for no reason—”
“Sailor,” Time said, cutting Twilight off mid-lecture. He was staring at Wind again, but there was a different weight to his gaze this time around. Less fragile, and more considering. “They call you the Sailor.”
“That’s me,” Wind agreed. He shot Twilight a superior grin. “Fucking told you the kid was smart.”
“Ugh,” Twilight grumbled. “That’s no excuse to be—”
The door burst open.
“Shut up!” The innkeeper hissed. “It’s ass-o-clock in the morning! All of you, shut your noisy traps and get out of my inn!”
Sky trudged along the road, yawning the whole while. Every few steps, he’d almost stumble, but he always managed to catch himself before actually tripping.
Wind decided to give him a wide, wide berth today. Sky was nice in general, but he was a downright terror when he had less than six uninterrupted hours of sleep. And right now, he was running on two.
In contrast to Sky’s gloomy demeanor, Wild and Hyrule were snickering amongst themselves in the middle of the pack. Curiosity took a hold of Wind, and he tuned in to their conversation.
“Look at ‘em,” Wild was saying, low enough that it would be easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. “Imagine thinking that sleeping in a bed is better than the great outdoors.”
Hyrule giggled. “Imagine choosing a bed over sleeping in a tree,” he said.
Wild smirked. “I bet they've never even built their own igloo in the middle of a snowstorm.”
“I bet they've never had to dig a hole in the middle of an empty plain to avoid monsters.”
“I bet they've never had to poop in an abandoned field.”
Up ahead, Sky almost-stumbled again. Wild and Hyrule quietly cackled.
Wind tuned out of their conversation and looked for someone else to bother.
A few feet ahead, Legend and Four were speaking in hushed tones. Wind jogged forward and fell into step beside them.
“What are you whispering about?” he asked, taking care not to get in the way of Four’s crutch.
“Magic,” Legend said, flatly. He adjusted the straps of his traveling pack. Twilight had the Biggoron Sword, and Warriors was lugging the armor, but Legend had volunteered to carry anything that Baby Time couldn’t carry himself. He probably wanted an excuse to study all of Time’s magical items or something.
“Specifically, we’re whispering about that.” Four made a vague, one-handed gesture at where Twilight and Baby Time were at the head of the group.
“Oh,” Wind said. “Any, uh, any interesting thoughts?”
“It's weird,” Legend said, squinting at Baby Time. “Wizzrobes normally do elemental attacks. The fact that it’s some sort of curse is strange.”
“It was a black-blooded Wizzrobe,” Four pointed out.
“Black-blooded or not, it’s been a full day since the attack. A full-body transformation takes a lot of power. And the Wizzrobe is dead, so. It should have dissipated by now.”
Four chewed on the inside of his mouth and poked his crutch at the dirt. “You think it’s this place?”
“It’s a possibility,” Legend said. He scowled. “We should have asked more questions in the city. I thought the air smelled a little suspicious.”
Four sighed. “Well, we can ask in Kakariko at least.”
“I see,” Wind said, subtly stepping back from the conversation. He didn't know anything about magic beyond using it for adventure purposes, and thus had nothing to contribute. Quietly, he looked around the group.
He didn't feel like talking to Warriors at the moment. Sky still looked grumpy. Wild and Hyrule were probably talking about the weirdest places they've ever taken a dump. And since Four and Legend were being nerds…
That left Twilight and Time.
On second thought, maybe I should suck it up and talk to Warriors.
As if reading his mind, Baby Time turned around and met Wind’s gaze. Abruptly, he ran back, abandoning Twilight in the middle of his sentence. Twilight closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, muttering prayers to Ordona.
Time, meanwhile, stopped directly in front of Wind. Wind had to catch himself to avoid crashing into the eleven-year-old.
“Can I help you?” Wind asked the child, irrationally frustrated.
“What does ‘shit’ mean?” Time asked.
And just like that, all conversation ceased.
Wind suddenly felt the weight of eight pairs of eyes: Time’s, of course, but also everyone else’s.
Twilight awkwardly cleared his throat. “It’s a—”
“Sailor.” Time cut Twilight off with unnecessary aggression. “What does ‘shit’ mean?”
(Twilight shut his mouth.)
“It’s—it’s, uh, it’s shit,” Wind stammered. “I mean. It's poop. You know, poop? Poop for adults?”
Time scowled.
“I'm not lying?”
Time crossed his arms. He turned around and went back to walking along the road. Bafflingly enough, he did not leave Wind’s side.
(From the front, Twilight gave Wind a thumbs up. Wind flipped him off.)
Once the attention was off of them, Time slowed his pace and leaned into Wind’s space. He lowered his voice, so as not to carry over to their traveling companions.
“Are you gonna tell me the truth?” he asked, somehow making it sound like a threat.
Wind considered the question. He glanced up at Twilight, and then over at Warriors, and then at everyone else, who seemed to be lost in their own thoughts and conversations.
“It’s a magic word,” Wind told Time. “I had—um, I had trouble talking as a kid, but some words make it easier. ‘Shit’ is one of them.”
“Is ‘fuck’ magic, too?” Time asked. “You said it a lot last night.”
“Yeah, fuck is magic. I’ve never stuttered while saying fuck.”
“Fuck,” Time said, testing it out on his tongue.
There was a feeling in Wind’s chest, somewhere between amusement and panic. “Don't, uh, don’t say that in front of the Rancher, okay?”
Time nodded. Then he ran off to join Twilight at the head of the group. “Fuck!” the kid announced, after tugging on Twilight’s sleeve.
“Sweet Hylia’s tits,” Wind swore, as Twilight turned around and glared at him hard enough to set something on fire.
Despite getting kicked out of the inn at ass-o-clock in the morning, they didn't reach Kakariko Village in one day. So while they were setting up camp, Wild recruited Time to help him make creamy meat soup. The whole affair kept Baby Time out of their hair, and also gave Legend and Four a chance to present the conclusions of their discussion to the rest of the group.
“There’s gotta be something that's powering it,” Legend signed, his movements precise and measured. “It’s been over a day and the curse hasn't weakened at all. Either we find a sorcerer to break the curse, or we cut off the power from the source itself.”
“What kind of things serve as a source?” Warriors asked.
Twilight narrowed his eyes, and his hand absently brushed his chest, where his omnipresent pendant lay. “Curse artifacts?” he signed.
“That’s one option.” Four signed. “But we didn't find any mysterious crystals or whatever when Time got shrunk.”
“Could it be feeding on his own magic?” Sky offered.
“Unlikely,” Legend signed. “Wizzrobes aren't that smart. But it was infected, so it’s still a possibility. I really hope not—those ones are a bitch to break.”
“What about the land itself?” Hyrule signed. He tapped his foot on the ground, thoughtful. “You feel the air here, don't you? It’s heavy.”
“That's what we were thinking,” Legend admitted. “But that would be the most troublesome. If the source is environmental, the fact that we’re miles away from the scene of the crime means that this whole land is infected and feeding into the curse.”
“Thirty rupees says we’ll have to go on a dangerous quest to purify this Hyrule,” Warriors signed.
“Sucker’s bet,” Wind replied, rolling his eyes. Ever since he’d gotten dragged into this whole portal bullshit, they never had anything easy.
“Okay,” Wild announced out loud. “Dinner’s ready!”
They all dropped their hands and went to join Wild and Time around the campfire. Wind headed for the stack of empty bowls so he could serve himself, but before he could grab one, Baby Time appeared in front of him and held out a bowl of soup.
Wind blinked. “Um?”
Time scowled at him and shook the bowl insistently.
“O—okay,” Wind said. He grabbed the bowl and inspected it. It looked and smelled very normal. And Wild wasn't smirking or anything, so there probably weren’t any suspicious additives. “Uh. Thanks?”
Time nodded, and then ran off to grab his own soup. He did not serve anyone else.
Dinner was a subdued affair. They were all hungry, and Wild’s cooking was always a hit, so Wind focused more of his energy on eating food than striking up conversation. He devoured the whole bowl in a couple minutes, and then immediately got up to go for seconds.
“Wow,” Twilight said, raising his eyebrows. “Where does it all go?”
“I'm a growing boy, old man, fuck off.” Wind fired back.
Twilight gasped. “I'm not old!”
“You are the oldest one here,” Warriors said, eyes flicking between Time and Twilight.
“We’re the same age!”
Warriors took a casual sip of soup and smirked. “Winter birthday.”
“Old man Twi, old man Twi!” Four hooted. The rest of the camp broke into fevered chanting. Twilight slumped over in his seat.
“Don’t worry,” Sky said, from where he was sitting next to the rancher. He tiredly patted Twilight on the back. “I always respect my elders.”
Wind snorted. He sat back down with his refilled bowl of soup, watching the rest of the camp tease Twilight about his newfound position as local old guy.
But there was someone else who wasn't joining in with the chanting. Next to Wind, little Time was staring at the evening sky with an intense focus.
Wind looked up. It wasn't completely dark, yet, but he could see a few stars beginning to make themselves known in the night sky.
“New moon,” Wind told Time. “It was like that last night, too. You won't see it.”
“Are you sure it’s there?” Time asked, fingers twitching in a repetitive pattern.
“Of course,” Wind said. “Why wouldn't it be?”
If he thought that answer would comfort the kid, he thought wrong. Time tensed up and started twitching his fingers faster.
“What’s—what’s wrong with the moon?” Wind asked.
“I don't like the moon,” Time announced.
The comment was loud enough to draw the attention of the others.
“Hear, hear!” Wild called out. “The moon sucks!”
“Weird hill to die on, but whatever,” Four commented.
“Funny you should mention dying,” Wild announced, slipping into ‘storytime’ mode. He grinned, toothy and feral, and he stared at them with glittering eyes. “Have you ever heard of a blood moon?”
“I've seen a few,” Twilight mentioned. “Very pretty. Lunar eclipse, right?”
“No, not that,” Wild said. “I'm talking about the blood moon.”
Instinctively, everyone leaned forward. Wild had entertaining stories—weird and sad and borderline unbelievable, maybe, but always entertaining.
“The moon has phases,” Wild said, starting his tale. “It waxes and wanes. It rolls with the tides. And most importantly—” he paused for dramatic effect, “—it has power.”
“Power,” Hyrule echoed, properly impressed.
“Yep! Where I come from, the moon holds a dark and arcane power. You see, when the Calamity took over my castle, it, being the Calamity, did a bunch of calamitous, spooky stuff to the land.”
“I hate how you bounce between mysterious and stupid,” Legend muttered, but he was listening intently anyway.
“One of those things was unleashing monsters into the world,” Wild said, ignoring Legend’s not-interruption. “They had always been there, of course. But we all know that when evil strikes, the first thing that happens is that the monsters begin to overrun the country.”
“Classic villain behavior,” Four said to himself. Then he laughed, like he was responding to someone else’s joke.
“But the people from my home are tough!” Wild pounded his chest with pride. “Just like me. I am incredibly durable. I'm like a Kakariko pumpkin. You can toss me off a cliff and I’ll be totally fine. There was no need to get all weird about the canyon incident, Vet. Even Old Farmer Buzzkill thought it was funny.”
“Ordona, slaughter me,” Twilight mumbled into his hands.
“Get to the blood!” Wind called out. “Blood, blood, blood!”
“No appreciation for suspense!” Wild complained, but he grinned at Wind to show that there were no hard feelings. “As I was saying! The people of my home are tough. We work together. We defend our own. We survive. Monsters don't stand a chance against us! But…” Wild let his voice drop an octave. “Evil cheats.”
Next to Wind, Time took in a sharp breath.
“I still remember my first blood moon,” Wild said. “I was so tired. It was early on in my journey, see, before Hylia made my body like a Kakariko pumpkin.”
Legend opened his mouth. Hyrule, in an impressive display of marksmanship, took his soup spoon and catapulted a chunk of meat directly into Legend’s mouth, preventing him from interrupting.
“Earlier that day, I stumbled into a hinox’s swamp,” Wild said. “It was an accident. But I got it, in the end. Stole a battle axe right off of its belt and nailed it in the eyeball. I took a few hits in the process, though, and I decided to rest. And since the hinox was dead, and nothing messes with a hinox—” Wild shrugged. “I camped in its territory.”
“Clever,” Warriors commented. “I’d have done that, too.”
“It was a good thought,” Wild agreed. “But in the end, it was a mistake.”
Four narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Evil cheats,” Wild repeated. “I woke up just a few minutes before midnight, sweating like crazy. The sky was clear, the air was pleasant, even, but there was something wrong. I couldn't breathe, the air was so thick. And even though I could feel a breeze on my skin, it was dead silent. No owl hoots. No rustling leaves. No crickets. I couldn't even hear my heartbeat.”
The whole camp held their breath.
“Ash filled the air, raining down from unseen pyres. Up above, the clouds parted to reveal a full moon in the color of blood.” Wild’s eyes gleamed in the dark, as eerie as his tale. “That was my only warning. I barely registered the color when the ground began to shake. And to my horror, wisps of malice spilled out of the ground, screaming and twisting and writhing into a terribly familiar shape—the hinox I’d just killed.”
Silence settled over the camp. Wild leaned back, letting the words settle in. Quietly, he took a slurp of his soup.
“And?” Hyrule prompted. “Then what happened?”
“Oh, I ditched,” Wild said with a casual shrug. “I already broke the battle axe, and like hell I was gonna fight that thing twice. The moral of the story is: don't camp in monster camps during a full moon. You might die, or whatever.”
Legend angrily shoveled soup into his mouth, frustrated with the lackluster ending.
“Your era’s fucked up,” Wind announced.
“Don’t worry. We don't get those anymore,” Wild assured him.
“How?”
The whole camp froze and turned to look at Time.
The kid had an angry pout on his face, with the fabric of his tunic balled up into his fists. He stared Wild down: unblinking, unrelenting.
“How’d you stop the moon?” Time asked.
“It ended with the Calamity,” Wild told him. “Big, bombastic boss battle! I didn't even have to die that time.”
“‘That time?’” Time asked. “Did you fight it more than once?”
“Uh,” Wild looked away and scratched the back of his neck. “No. I totally saved the world in one go. It’s just an expression.”
“Oh,” Time said, frowning deeply. “Okay.”
Wild nodded, and then hastily began shoving soup down his throat.
After dinner, Wind sidled up to Twilight and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Something up, Sailor?” Twilight asked, greeting him with a genial smile.
“I want second watch,” Wind said.
“What?”
“Second watch,” Wind repeated. “I’ll trade with you.”
Twilight looked at him like he’d grown a third head.
“What?” Wind demanded.
“Literally no one wants second watch,” Twilight said. “Is something up? Are you planning a prank?”
“No!” Wind said. “Nayru’s ass, I’m doing you a favor! Why do you have to question it! What the hell!”
Twilight frowned. “Wind—”
“Maybe I just want some alone time, did you think of that?”
“Alone time?” Twilight echoed. Then his eyes widened. “Oh. Ohh, I see. Alone time.”
All of a sudden, Wind’s guard went up. He took a step back and narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you insinuating.”
“Nothing!” Twilight yelped. He looked away, and his voice cracked with panic. “Nothing! You're a teenage boy with teenage needs, you're entitled to your alone time—”
“Ew, gross!” Wind said, reflexively kicking Twilight in the balls. “I fucking hate you! Just for that, I am planning a prank.”
“I hate being the old man,” Twilight wheezed, from where he lay curled up on the ground.
Thus, Wind took second watch.
Truthfully, he would rather be curled up in his bedroll, sleeping the night away. But there was a reason he’d asked for the worst slot of the night, and the reason was four-foot-nine and terrified of the moon.
One hour into his shift, and ten minutes to midnight, something stirred from Time’s corner of camp. A small lump shuffled itself into a sitting position, and carefully began slipping out of its blankets.
Wind coughed. Loudly.
Baby Time jumped and whipped his head around. His eyes were round and white with fright, and he reflexively raised his arms in self-defense.
“Going somewhere?” Wind signed.
Time scowled and shook his head.
“Okay, then,” Wind signed. “Go back to sleep.”
Time glared. It could have been effective, maybe, but Wind had gotten used to Adult Time’s one-eyed stare of disapproval. The bite-sized version carried only a fraction of that intimidation factor. Regardless, Time did not go back to bed, and Wind, as much as he disliked the idea of babysitting the Hero of Time, was a big brother down to the core.
Sighing, he patted the empty space next to him. After a moment’s consideration, Time grabbed his blanket, wrapped it around his shoulders, and shuffled over to sit down next to Wind.
Wind pointed up at the sky. “No moon.”
Time hugged his knees to his chest and stared up at the stars. They sat there in silence, for a short moment, with only the sound of crickets and Four’s soft snoring filling the night.
Time lifted his hands and signed a quick question. Wind blinked.
“Don’t know that one,” he replied, and he mimicked the name-sign.
The kid frowned. “T-E-R-M-I-N-A,” he signed, spelling it out with his hands. Then he repeated his question. “We’re not in Termina, are we?”
Wind shook his head. “Where’s Termina?”
Time shrugged. “I don’t know how I got there. I don’t know how I got here, either. But I have to go back.”
“Why?”
Time’s hands trembled. “It fell.”
“Fell?”
“The moon,” Time explained. “It fell. Or, it's going to. I don’t know anymore. It’s already been four days. Have you ever heard of Clock Town?”
Wind shook his head. Time let out a dismayed huff. Blinking rapidly, he turned away, hiding his face from view. His fingers began to twitch again. They moved, up and down, repeating the same pattern over and over again. And then it clicked.
He wasn't just twitching his fingers, Wind realized. He was playing a tune.
“Someone stole it,” Time signed. He frowned at the sleeping members of their little group. “One of them stole it.”
Wind didn’t need to ask what ‘it’ was.
Time blinked up at him. “Will you help me find it?”
“Why me?” Wind asked. “You don’t know me. Maybe I’m the one who stole it.”
“It’s not you,” Time insisted. “You’re the only one who tells the truth.”
Wind screwed up his face in confusion. “Really?”
Time nodded, completely serious.
That was a little offensive, actually. Wind must be a horrible pirate if he gave off an aura of honesty.
“Plus, I don’t like you,” Time added.
Well, okay then.
“You’re doing a really good job of convincing me,” Wind signed. “I’m being sarcastic, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“You don’t like me either!” Time pointed out. “I don’t want you to like me. I just need the truth. Will you help me find my ocarina?”
The truth.
Truth was, Wind had never seen Time’s ocarina. Maybe he didn’t carry it as an adult. Maybe, sometime between the ages of eleven and eleven-thousand, Time lost it. Or gave it away. Or left it at home with his wife.
Truth was, if Time wanted to go back to Clock Town or whatever, Wind could not let him do that. No matter how annoying Time was, he was their leader. He was summoned for this quest, same as everyone else; he couldn’t just leave. And even now, with this weird-ass deaging curse, Wind could not in good conscience let a kid the same age as his little sister go to a place where moons fell out of the sky.
Wind raised his hands. “Sure. I’ll help you find it.”
Time straightened his back, emboldened by the answer. And for the first time since the Wizzrobe attack, the kid smiled.
Too bad Wind was a liar.
Notes:
(please do not expect updates to come as quickly as this one did; i merely got lost in the sauce for a bit)
Chapter 3: Ink Stains
Chapter Text
They arrived at Kakariko early in the morning.
It was a quaint place, as Kakariko Villages tended to be. The architecture was simple, the roads were unpaved, and the villagers carried a general air of hospitality. This particular version of the town felt like a bit of a blend: there were pumpkin patches, like in Wild’s Hyrule, but the buildings resembled those from Legend’s era. It must have been from some era in the in-between.
Wind wondered how Time would react to the familiar-not-familiar village. If he would comment on how different Kakariko looked. His reaction was less dramatic than he thought it would be, though. Upon arrival, the kid merely tilted his head.
“Be right back!” Wild shouted, the second he spotted the gardens. “I’m gonna go stock up on pumpkins!”
Before anyone could respond, he ran down the hill, trampling across the wildflowers and heading straight for the nearest pumpkin patch.
Twilight groaned. “He always forgets about the buddy system,” he complained. “Smithy—”
“On it!” Four fired off a cheeky salute before hobbling after their resident cook.
Time continued to stare at the village with a bland expression. He looked up at the welcome sign, and then back at the buildings.
“Out of curiosity,” Warriors said, “can you read the sign?”
“No.”
Wind coughed and elbowed Warriors in the side. Warriors huffed.
“Tatl reads signs for me,” Time continued. “She makes fun of me sometimes.” Then a sad expression crossed his face. “Navi was teaching me letters, but we didn’t get very far.”
Wind suddenly felt bad for laughing.
“If the Smithy and the Champion are stocking up on food, we should probably get other things done, too,” Twilight mused. He looked around at the rest of them. “Do we need anything?”
Hyrule raised his hand. “We’re running low on bandages.”
“I’ll go with you,” Warriors offered. “I need to grab some soap.”
“No mint scent, please,” Twilight requested.
Warriors shot him a thumbs up as he and Hyrule headed down the hill.
“I’m gonna ask around about the magic situation,” Legend decided. “Sky, you in?”
“I need to pick up more thread for mending,” Sky said. “And also some ink.”
Twilight looked over at Wind. “Who are you going with?”
Wind opened his mouth to answer—
“We’re going with Sky,” Time announced, latching onto Wind’s arm and tugging him in close.
Wind tried to detach Time from his arm, but the kid held fast. Time didn’t even bother to look at him, the little brat—he only glared up at Twilight, daring him to intervene.
“Oh,” Twilight said, glancing between Wind and Time with a little bit of hurt and a whole lot of confusion. “Er, okay. I’ll… go with the Vet, then…”
Time nodded. He dragged Wind over to Sky’s side, gripping tight.
Legend made eye contact with Wind and raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Uh. We’ll meet at the inn before sundown. As usual.” Twilight said, haltingly. He awkwardly raised a hand and waved good-bye to Time.
Time did not wave back.
Legend rolled his eyes and pushed Twilight along. In a few seconds, only Wind, Time, and Sky remained on the hill next to the village sign.
“Well, then,” Sky said. He blinked at Time, and then grinned at Wind, highly amused. “Nice to see you two getting along.”
“No, we’re not,” Time said, still holding onto Wind’s arm.
Wind took his free hand and formed a circle with his fingers, praying to Hylia for assistance. It did not work. He did not know why he thought it would.
“Okay,” Sky said, holding back a laugh. Fucking asshole. “To the general store, then!”
He spun around and walked off, leading the way.
As soon as his back was turned, Wind yanked his arm out of Time’s grip, lifted his hands, and started signing furiously. “What are you doing?”
“He looks suspicious,” Time signed back, radiating determination. “I think he has my ocarina. Let’s jump him in an alley and take my stuff back!”
“Why are you like this,” Wind signed. “We can’t do that! Sky has the reflexes of a hummingbird and the swordsmanship of a god-killer, it’d never work. Plus, the Rancher knows we’re the only ones with him! It’ll be way too obvious.”
Time stuck out his tongue and ran after Sky. Wind caught him by the shirt collar before he could tackle Sky by the legs.
The Chosen Hero, naturally, did not turn around.
While Sky bargained with a store owner over stationery for his love letters, Wind dragged Time behind a shelf, hiding them both from Sky’s view. There was a length of rope on the shelf next to them, going for half-price. Wind considered buying it so he could make a baby leash, because in the past fifteen minutes he had already prevented Sky from getting attacked twelve times.
“Please,” Wind begged, keeping his voice low so as not to carry over to Sky. “Slow down.”
“Didn’t you promise to help me?” Time said, at a full volume. “I think we could take him.”
“Listen here, you little shit,” Wind hissed. He switched back to sign language, making sure his movements were sharp and clear. “First of all, keep your voice down! He’s like, five feet away! And second of all, I know he doesn’t look like it, but Sky can kick all of our asses blindfolded. You don’t just knock him out on a whim. You have to be psychological about it.”
Time frowned. “Don’t know what that means,” he signed.
“Psychological.” Wind repeated the word with his hands, and then flicked the kid on the forehead. “It means use your brain.”
“But I am,” Time gestured with fierce enthusiasm. “I thought about it, and I think he stole my ocarina!”
Wind wrinkled his nose. “Do I want to know your reasons?”
“He was mean yesterday,” Time signed.
“Because he was sleep-deprived.”
“And he grabbed my bag first.”
“And then he gave it to you,” Wind reminded him. “Besides. Isn't the rest of your stuff with the Vet right now?”
Time blinked. Then he scowled. “Darn,” he said aloud. “Maybe we should jump the Veteran, instead.”
“Oh, good luck with that,” Sky piped up. “The Vet has the paranoia of a hunted rabbit. You’ll never get the drop.”
“What he said,” Wind said, nodding along to Sky’s words of wisdom.
A beat passed.
“Oh, fuck my life,” Wind cursed, and he slowly rested his forehead on the store shelf in front of him. “Hello, Sky, it’s not what it, it, it— fuck, not what it looks like—”
“No need to explain.” Sky held up a hand and smiled at Baby Time. “You know, if you wanted to search my bag, you could've just asked?”
Time glared.
“Here,” Sky said, slipping his traveling pack off of his shoulders. He held it out. “See for yourself.”
Time took the bag and turned it upside-down, dumping all its contents onto the ground. Sky's brand new bottle of ink shattered against the hardwood floor, staining their shoes and all of Sky’s socks blue.
There was no ocarina.
“Oh, dear,” Sky said, tone mild.
“Sorry for accusing you,” Time said, poking at one of Sky’s half-finished woodcarvings. “I guess you didn't steal it.”
“That's what you're sorry for?” Wind asked, running a hand over his face. “I know I'm a literal pirate, but who the fuck raised you?!”
“A tree,” Time replied.
Had Time been telling that same joke since he was eleven years old?
Footsteps pounded on the ground, and the shopkeeper appeared with a broom. Wide-eyed, they took in the broken glass and the blue ink puddle slowly seeping into the wood.
“What are you three doing?!” the shopkeeper shrieked. “I sold that bottle to you at a discount!”
“So sorry about my little brother,” Sky said, hastily scooping up his things and shoving them back into his bag. Then he tossed the shopkeeper a gold rupee and took a step forward, leaving a dark blue footprint on the wood. “Do you need help cleaning up?”
The shopkeeper brandished their broom like a sword. “Get the hell out of my shop!”
They ended up at the outskirts of town, by the local creek. Wind squatted on the bank, barefoot, and scrubbed at his boots. He’d gotten it to be fairly clean, but there was a bit of ink sticking around the seams.
“I can honestly say that getting kicked out of two public spaces in two days is a record for me,” Sky commented. He lifted up another pair of ink-stained socks and squinted. It was mostly clean: just tinted a very faint shade of blue.
“This isn't even close to my record,” Wind bragged. Then he scowled. “But usually, I get kicked out on purpose…”
He turned to shoot Baby Time a glare. The kid sat upon a rock on the bank, swinging his legs and kicking the water with bare feet. His boots lay on the stone next to him, drying off in the sun.
Time blinked. “What?”
“Ugh,” Wind huffed. Picking on Time was fair game when he was a stupid old man, but it felt horribly unfair to be picking on him when he was a baby.
It took a few more minutes to properly wash out all of Sky’s things. It was, luckily, a sunny day, so it wouldn't take too long to dry. They spread their washed items out on Time’s rock, and waited.
After a beat of silence, Sky opened his mouth. “So,” he said. “Your ocarina.”
Time sat up straight and turned a piercing gaze onto Sky. “You know something?”
“Er, no, sorry,” Sky said. He bit his lip. “But… what exactly do you need it for?”
Time's fingers began to twitch. “I have to go back to Clock Town.”
Wind and Sky exchanged a glance.
“I—” Wind swallowed. “I thought you said that the moon fell?”
“It won’t,” Time said.
It fell. It didn’t. It won’t. Wind still didn’t understand how Time’s ocarina worked, exactly, but a vague picture started to form in his mind. He didn’t like it.
The kid’s fingers moved, playing that song, again. Wind could recognize the pattern.
“You think that the Vet has it?” Sky mused, staring out at the creek.
“He looks suspicious,” Time said, like he didn’t say the same thing about Sky half an hour ago.
Sky grinned. “Can’t argue with that,” he said. He looked at Time. “You need help with distracting the Vet?”
“Yes, please!” Time’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward.
“Cool,” Sky said. “I think I might have an idea.”
A few hours later, they booked a room at the Kakariko Inn. Hyrule proudly handed Four a red potion, which Four took with great enthusiasm. As soon as his sprained ankle was healed, he took the stick he was using as a crutch and broke it over his knee, immediately getting splinters into his hands.
“Okay,” Twilight said, ignoring Four’s muttered cursing. “Group huddle.”
Sky and Time claimed the edge of the room, backs against the wall, while Four and Hyrule sat cross-legged by the big pile of bedrolls and backpacks pushed up in the corner. Warriors had a chair, and Wind was next to him, resting his feet on top of Time’s lonesome backpack. Wild sprawled himself out on his stomach, and Legend and Twilight sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, ready to share the results of their investigation.
“Here’s a map we acquired,” Twilight said, taking a thick piece of parchment and spreading it out.
It looked like it had been through a lot. The creases were soft, the paper wrinkled. There were discolored splotches where someone had dripped wax onto it.
“Gifted, purchased, or stolen?” Wild asked, picking at his cuticles.
“Wha— how is that relevant,” Twilight spluttered.
“Stolen. Got it.”
“Anyway,” Legend cut in. “As you can see, it’s unfinished.”
“I’ll say,” Warriors said. He took a finger and traced the markings.
Hand-drawn, Wind noted. The labels were in a neat script, and whoever drew it took the time to draw bits of landscape as well. There were rivers and settlements and landmarks, connected with drawings of roads and bridges. And most eye-catching of all, there was an empty section: a wide expanse of blank paper, unexplored.
“Apparently, no one goes there,” Twilight said. “They call it the Flats. Not sure of the details, but rumor has it that it’s cursed.”
“Oh, so it’s definitely cursed,” Four said. He suppressed a wince as Hyrule picked out another one of his splinters.
“This old guy said that there’s an abandoned temple somewhere in the Flats,” Legend added. “There’s an old story that they executed one of the guards for a crime he didn’t commit. His twin was a sorceror who cursed the temple in revenge. Ever since, the area’s been uninhabitable.”
“Wonderful,” Warriors commented, bouncing one of his legs up and down.
“And in recent years, the curse has been leaking out. Crops have been dying, monsters getting more aggressive, et cetera.”
“Heavy air,” Hyrule muttered.
Twilight sighed. “They also think the black-blooded monsters are coming from there.”
“Hey, at least Hylia’s making it obvious this time around,” Wind said. He side-eyed Time. “So we just find this temple, fuck shit up, and then this whole, uh, situation is over with?”
“That does seem to be the course of action,” Twilight agreed.
“How far?” Warriors asked.
Twilight measured the map distance with his fingers. “Two days on foot, maybe three depending on the terrain,” he guessed. “They call it the Flats. I doubt it’ll be an uphill hike.”
“Three to get there, or three to find the temple?” Four asked.
“Let’s be honest,” Legend drawled. “With our luck, we’ll trip into a dungeon the second we enter the blank space.”
They spent a few more minutes discussing their travel schedule, but there wasn’t much to discuss. The rumors Legend and Twilight heard were ominous and non-specific—outside of black-blooded monsters, they had no clue what to expect.
Still. They had the food, and Hyrule had picked up more red potions, and they were all in a reasonable state of health. And everyone knew that rumors were only that: rumors. No matter how helpful they were, there was only one way to progress, and it was to see a temple for themselves.
Sky yawned. “Sounds like a plan,” he said. He stood up and brushed off his pants before making direct eye contact with Wind.
Internally, Wind snapped to attention. Outwardly, he put his chin in his hand and tried to look as natural as possible.
“I'm gonna make some tea before I go to bed,” Sky announced. “Anyone want some?”
[Two hours ago.]
Wind, Time, and Sky sat on the bank of the creek. Sky had a stick in hand, and Wind and Time dutifully looked over his shoulder.
“Before we sleep, I’ll offer to make tea,” Sky said, sketching out a drawing of a teacup in the mud. “Legend is going to ask for some himself.”
“How do you know?” Wind asked, frowning at the certainty in Sky’s voice.
“We were on the road all day yesterday, and this morning,” Sky reminded him. “Plus, he let Ti—I mean, Link, sleep by the fire last night. He’s going to be creaking.”
“Sure, I’d like some tea,” Legend said, exactly as Sky predicted. He stretched out his shoulders, wincing as his joints popped. “You still have some willow bark?”
“Yep,” Sky answered. He dug around in his pack and pulled out two tins: one for chamomile, and the other for willow bark tea. “Wild, can I take the kettle?”
Wild summoned a kettle from his slate and chucked it across the room. Sky caught it and did a little wave.
“See you in a bit.”
The door closed with a soft click. Quiet conversations broke out in the room, as the others began winding down for the night. Wind closed his eyes and counted in his head. One, two, three, four—
“Oh, heck,” Twilight said. “Where’d Baby Time go?”
Wind let the room freak out for about two seconds before yawning and speaking up.
“He probably went with Sky,” he said, cutting through the panic. “He was following him around all day today. I think he has a new favorite now, thank Hylia.”
“New favorite?” Twilight asked, somewhere between confused and offended. “Who was the old one?”
Wind looked Twilight directly in the eye and smiled, all teeth and no mercy. “Me, obviously.”
“But you’re not my favorite,” Time said, crossing his arms. “Sky, he’s not my favorite.”
“Yeah, can, uh, can I not say that?” Wind asked. He took Sky’s stick and drew an ‘x’ through Sky’s arrow. “I’m all for lying, but claiming affection for this brat is going too far.”
“Sailor,” Sky said, slowly. “I’m giving you a gift.”
Wind twisted his mouth. “How.”
“Just imagine the look on the Rancher’s face when you say that.”
“Okay, never mind. I’m in.”
“That—that can’t possibly be true,” Twilight said. He wasn’t quite distraught—he had too much self-control for that—but it was a near thing. “I gave him a piggyback ride yesterday!”
“You’re such a tryhard,” Four snickered. “Everybody knows that kids like edgy teens the best.”
“Years of babysitting experience gone down the drain,” Twilight moaned. He fell backwards onto the bed and hid his face in his hands. “I’m officially old. Old and uncool.”
“Old Man Twi!” Four chanted. “Who’s with me? Old Man Twi, Old Man Twi—”
“Shut up,” Warriors said, chucking his seat cushion into Four’s face. “If we get kicked out of another inn, I’m going to commit a crime.”
“Promise?” Wind asked, perking up.
Warriors paled, and Wind snickered at his panicked expression.
“Let’s not get kicked out of the inn,” Twilight said. He was fully sprawled out on the bed, now, hands resting on his stomach. “It’s nice having a bed.”
“Wimp,” Hyrule and Wild said at the same time.
“And also old,” Legend muttered.
“One day,” Twilight breathed out, “one day, I am going to return to my Hyrule, and no one will bully me for being the only normal person in this stupid crew.”
“Rancher,” Warriors said, pained. “You are not normal.”
“I am!”
“Out of the nine of us, you are literally the only one who condones cannibalism.”
Twilight sat up and pointed. “If you are in a desperate situation and have explicit consent from the deceased, then it’s not a sin—”
Sky placed a hand on Time’s shoulder and adopted a serious tone. “While I’m making Legend’s tea, you will ‘distract’ me so that I steep it for too long and the taste will become bitter.”
The sound of breaking pottery pierced the air, cutting off Twilight’s cannibalism diatribe.
Time’s high-pitched voice traveled through the closed door. “Shit!”
“Link!” Sky hissed.
There was a shuffling sound, followed by footsteps and a hushed conversation. After a moment, the door cracked open.
“Mister Sky says your tea will take a little longer,” Time informed Legend.
“Ugh, fine,” Legend groaned.
“What’s the bitter for?” Wind asked.
“It’s to mask the taste.” Sky held up a small packet. “We’re gonna dump this in before we serve it to him.”
Time nodded, all business.
Wind always thought that Hyrule would be his go-to poison supplier, but apparently, it should have been Sky.
Six minutes later, Sky and Time burst through the door. Time happily ran across the room and jumped onto the bed, right next to Twilight.
(Twilight shot Wind a superior grin. Wind rolled his eyes.)
“Sorry about the wait,” Sky said, looking appropriately frazzled. He walked up to Legend and held out a steaming cup of tea. “I think I left it on the flame for too long. It might taste bad.”
“It’s fine,” Legend said, waving it off. He took the cup left-handed and sipped, making a face as he did so.
Point of no return, it was. Wind started his mental hourglass, anticipating the next stage of the plan.
Exactly thirty-five minutes after finishing his tea, Legend stood up.
“What is that,” Wind said, squinting at Sky’s mysterious poison packet. “Seriously. What the fuck are we doing.”
“It’s senna.”
“Is that supposed to knock him out?” Wind asked.
“No,” Sky answered, smiling brightly. “It’s supposed to make him poop.”
Legend closed the door behind him as he left. Wind took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, and, ever so slightly, loosened the cap on the object inside.
“Smithy?” he asked.
Four, who had finally gotten all the splinters removed from his hands, looked up. “What’s up?”
Wind pulled on a sheepish expression. “Can you sharpen my sword?”
“Again?” Four groaned. He rubbed his temples. “I keep telling you: this is why you shouldn’t drag the blade on the ground—”
“I have to!” Wind insisted. “That’s how the magic works—I draw an hourglass in the ground, and then it stops time! It’s not like I’m trying to dull the blade.”
“Fine.” Four held out his hand and made a beckoning gesture. “Hand it over. I’ll sharpen your sword.”
Wind hopped up to his feet and walked over to the pile of backpacks and supplies. Casually, he placed the object in his pocket on top of Legend’s and Sky’s pack. Then he grabbed his sword, Four’s gloves, and Four’s favorite whetstone.
“Thanks, Smithy!” Wind said, handing his sword to Four hilt-first.
Warriors eyed the interaction, faintly amused. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”
“The Smithy does it best.”
“I would hope so,” Four muttered. He pulled on his gloves and inspected the edge of the blade. “It’s my job.”
The room fell into a companiable quiet. The only sounds were that of Four dragging the Phantom Sword across his whetstone, and of Sky flipping through his last letter from Sun.
Someone coughed. Wind looked up.
Time glared at him, his eyes communicating a question he couldn’t sign in front of the rest of their sign-fluent group. When are you gonna do the thing?
Wind rolled his eyes and tried to telepathically send his reply. Be patient.
Time looked offended. Wind wondered if he got the message.
“So, then what happens while Legend’s gone?” Wind asked, unsure about this step of the plan. “We rummage through his stuff while he’s out taking a shit?”
“Not quite,” Sky said. “Everyone will be in the inn with us, and someone there is bound to defend Legend’s privacy. No, what we’re going to do is spill ink all over his bag, and then volunteer for laundry duty to make it up to him.”
“I thought I broke the ink,” Time said without guilt.
Sky grinned. “You have some.”
Time’s eyes widened. “I do?”
Oh, he did, didn’t he.
Adult Time and Sky had a strange dynamic. They were the first two to meet each other when Hylia started opening the portals. They had a deep respect for each other, they could communicate through eyes and facial expressions alone, and they trusted each other with their lives. But Wind often got the feeling that they weren’t entirely comfortable. Friends without being friendly; comrades without camaraderie.
You know, unless they were commiserating about missing their girlfriends.
Sky was a lot more in-your-face-lovey-dovey about it, but Wind knew that Time wrote to Malon just as often as Sky wrote to Sun. He’d see Time asking Sky for extra paper, hear them waxing poetic about Malon’s beautiful singing voice or Sun’s quick-witted humor. It was disgusting.
Point is, Time definitely would have had letter-writing supplies in his bag before he got pipsqueaked.
“So do I just take it and dump it on his stuff?” Time asked.
“Nope,” Wind cut in. “I’ll do it. I can make it look like an accident.”
A few minutes later, Wind’s ears pricked up. Legend’s footsteps, as light and as rhythmic as ever, approached the door. He screwed his eyes shut and held his breath.
“Hey, Sailor.”
Wind glanced over at Sky. It was later in the day, so they were walking around Kakariko with Time. Most of the day consisted of letting the kid run around and smash pots, which, as always, the villagers took as a sign of good luck.
“What’s up?” Wind asked, mimicking Sky’s careful and quiet tone.
“You’re not planning on giving it to him, right?”
Wind twisted his mouth. “No,” he said, after a pause. “I mean. Clock Town would have been, uh, years ago for him, right? His adventure is—it’s over. Can he even go back?”
“No.”
Wind blinked. “You sound oddly certain about that,” he accused.
“It’s probably a teleportation song or something,” Sky said, waving it off. “And, you know. It’s been years. If he does go back to Clock Town, it won’t be the Clock Town he’s thinking of.”
“If you say so,” Wind hummed.
Several things happened at once.
One. Legend opened the door.
Two. Four adjusted his grip on Wind’s sword.
Three. Wind ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth and forced a sneeze.
The sneeze caused his elbow to hit Four in the side, which caused him to fling out an arm, which Legend tripped over. As he fell, Legend threw out a hand to break his fall. He bumped into the stack of bags in the corner.
The bottle of ink with a loosened cap tipped over. Black ink spilled over Legend’s pack, and splashed onto Sky’s.
“Not again,” Sky groaned.
“Hey,” Legend said, pushing himself up off the ground. His eyes raked across the room, furious. “Whose ink bottle is this?”
“That’s mine!” Time said, hopping up to his feet.
Legend dropped his head down, unable to properly chew out an eleven-year-old.
“Sorry, Mister Veteran,” Time said. “I’ll clean your stuff!”
“Okay,” Legend said, forcing a friendly tone. “Thank you for your assistance. Please don’t call me mister. It’s weird.”
“Yes, sir!”
Time was a little shit when he wanted to be.
“I’ll go with him,” Wind said. He shot Sky a sheepish look and subtly shrugged.
Sorry about the collateral damage.
Sky shook his head and waved him off.
“It’s kind of dark,” Twilight said, getting to his feet. “Can it wait?”
“The Vet has a magic lamp in here, right?” Wind said, flipping open Legend’s bag and pulling out the object in question. “It’s a fucking village. This is our last safe stop.”
“Wind—”
“My sword is sharp, and my reflexes sharper,” Wind deadpanned. He picked up his freshly sharpened sword and shot a frustrated glare at Twilight. “Come on, old man. My sis-sister is more trouble than he is. I can watch the kid for ten minutes, don’t you trust me?”
Twilight stared. Wind stared back, unafraid.
“Alright,” Twilight conceded.
“Wait,” Legend said. He reached into his bag and pulled out his magic rods and a jewelry box. “Okay. I think those are all the things that can kill you—whoa.”
Time had grabbed Legend’s arm. He stared very intently at the weapons and flipped open the lid to the jewelry box. Finally, he nodded and dropped his grip, satisfied that Legend wasn’t holding his ocarina.
“Your stuff will be cleaned,” Time said, with a tone that sounded far more ritualistic than it needed to be.
Legend looked a little creeped out. “Um, thank you.”
Wind grinned. “Be right back!”
He handed Time the magic lamp. Then he placed his sword in its sheath, slung it over his back, and scooped up Sky’s traveling pack. Time opened the door, and Wind followed him.
Together, they made their way down to the creek. As they approached, both of them looked up at the sky.
Crescent moon.
Time placed the lamp on the bank and dumped out everything in Legend’s bag. He started digging through its contents. Wind didn’t pay too much attention—Legend already cleared his bag of fun things, so there was little risk in letting the kid fiddle with Legend’s shit. So instead, he focused his attention on scrubbing at the leather of Sky’s pack.
Then, once Time was properly distracted on examining Legend’s things, Wind flipped open Sky’s bag. He didn’t see any ocarinas, but then again, he didn’t expect to—Wind doubted that the Chosen Hero was stupid enough to keep it in his backpack. Instead, he reached inside and felt around the seams, searching for hidden pockets.
Bingo.
Wind made sure Time wasn’t looking before he pulled out a leather journal: old and worn and with pages falling out. He shoved it under his shirt and quickly went back to scrubbing at ink.
Sky knew what Time’s ocarina did, and he probably knew exactly where it was, too. He was a liar. Wind was certain of it.
After all, it takes one to know one.
Notes:
Wind: I can excuse lying, poisoning, and invasion of privacy, but I draw the line at making a mess for retail workers
anyway. plotted a little more. realized legend would be a bigger character than i thought he would. updated the tags to reflect that.
until next time!
o7
Chapter 4: Like Ice
Chapter Text
“Do you believe in fate?”
All activity around the campfire ceased.
Hyrule twirled a stick around his fingers, chin resting in his free hand.
“Uh, what?” Wild asked.
“Fate,” Hyrule repeated. He sat up straight and looked at Wild. “Do you believe in it?”
Legend shook out his bedroll and rolled his eyes. “What kind of stupid question is that?” he asked. “We’re reincarnations of the Hero’s spirit. We all have Zeldas. We all have evil Ganons, or Ganon knockoffs. We’re literally on a quest given to us by the Goddess Hylia. Fate is real, and she fucks me over every day.”
Sky exhaled.
“Yeesh,” Warriors muttered.
“Am I wrong?” Legend challenged.
“Well, no,” Warriors admitted. He leaned back and shrugged. “I don’t disagree. But I wouldn't necessarily put it like that…”
“I guess if you think of it that way, you kind of have to believe in fate, huh?” Four mused.
“How about you, old man?” Hyrule asked. “You believe in fate?”
Time tapped his chin. He smiled, but it was more brittle than anything else. “I wish I didn't.”
“You all really think that?” Sky said, hiding his eyes behind his bangs.
“I didn't ask for this,” Legend shrugged.
Wild absently traced the scars on his face. “Did any of us ask to be a Hero?”
“I did.”
Everyone’s heads whipped around, carrying varying degrees of shock, confusion, and horror.
Wind lifted his head, defiant.
“You asked?” Warriors said, incredulous. He shifted in his seat. “I mean, I guess the concept of it is pretty cool, but still—”
“I didn't ask for the coolness factor,” Wind spat. “How immature do you think I am?”
“I mean, what else do you get out of it?” Twilight joked. “A broken heart?”
“It's not—it’s not about me,” Wind insisted. He crossed his arms. “It was never about me.”
“Oh,” Four said, voice soft. He swallowed. “Who did you lose?”
“I didn't—” Wind shook his head. “It's not about that, either,” he said.
Twilight and Wild exchanged a glance. Hyrule tilted his head, silently prompting Wind to elaborate.
“At first, all I wanted was to save my sister,” Wind said. “And then, it was just about helping Tetra. But—”
He took a deep breath, searching for the words. “We didn't have a Hero,” he said. “He was gone, long before my time, and he never came back. Not, not even as a reincarnation. The hero wasn’t there. But I was.”
His words were quiet, but they pierced the night. He held his head high, and he stared at Legend: expectation and challenge in equal measure.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't have made the same choice.”
Legend turned away first, ashamed.
Time, however, wasn't done yet. He leaned forward, his lone eye drilling into Wind’s soul. “A choice made under the threat of apocalypse isn't a choice,” he argued.
“Of course it is!”
Time lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Is it a choice if there’s no other option?”
“There is always an option!” Wind snarled. “You could join Ganon. You could hide. You could fuck off and leave it all for someone else to clean up. They're ugly options, sure, but they're still there. Could you live with yourself if you ran?”
Time held his gaze for a long moment, and the whole camp held their breaths.
“No,” Time confessed, still staring at Wind. The markings on his skin seemed darker in that moment, and his eye glowed in the reflected firelight. “I couldn't.”
“Well, there you go,” Wind huffed. “Guess you're not as much of a coward as you pretend to be.”
They checked out of the inn in the early hours of the morning, just before sunrise. After doing one final sweep of the room, they gathered everyone into the lobby and pooled their money together.
Legend and Wind went up to the empty counter.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Legend asked.
Wind grinned and slammed his hand on the bell.
There was a muffled groan, followed by the sounds of someone stumbling around. Six seconds later, the innkeeper’s daughter appeared, bedhead, eye-bags, and all.
“G’morning,” she mumbled. “You were the party of nine, right?”
“Yep.”
“That’ll be—” she yawned.
Then she blinked.
Legend lifted an eyebrow.
“Um, six hundred rupees,” the girl said, after a pause.
Legend pulled out his wallet and started counting out the cost.
“Hey,” the girl said, after a short moment.
Legend looked up from his task. The girl was staring at him with a deep look of concentration.
“Do you like… come here often?” she asked.
“No,” Legend deadpanned.
“Wait, sorry, that came out wrong!” she yelped, her ears turning a painful shade of red. Mortified, she hid her face behind her hands. “It’s just, you look really familiar, so—”
Legend stared.
“I’m totally not flirting with you,” she squeaked, helpless. “I would never! Unless you're into that, in which case, then yes, I am! Like, you're not not my type?”
“Please don’t,” Legend said flatly.
“I'm so sorry,” she mumbled, unable to look him in the eye. “I just woke up.”
Legend plopped down a pile of rupees on the counter. “For your service.”
“I like your hair,” she blurted.
“Thanks,” Legend replied. “It’s natural.”
He walked away, and the girl tiredly ran a hand over her face and groaned. Out of a sudden burst of goodwill, Wind decided to do both her and Legend a favor.
“He has horrible, smelly foot fungus,” Wind told her. “And he never washes his underwear. You dodged an arrow.”
“Thanks, kid,” she muttered, and she waved him away. “Have a nice day.”
Warriors took point.
He held the map and set the pace for their journey: slow enough to be sustainable, fast enough to make some decent progress toward their destination. Twilight took up the rear, making sure that no one fell behind. Which meant Time, naturally, stuck himself between Wind and Sky.
Wind would have preferred not to have been lumped in with them. Sky's diary was burning a hole in his own backpack, and he couldn't exactly flip through it when its owner was two feet to his right. But somehow, he couldn't shake the kid, and the kid wouldn't leave Sky alone, either.
On the bright side, Sky hadn't noticed the absence of his journal. It would probably be a while before he figured it out. Pros of emptying out their stock of ink: there was nothing to write with, so there was no point in journaling.
So Wind kept his cool, and he let Sky and Time’s aimless conversation wash over him as they headed north. It was an uneventful start to their journey.
The sun was high in the sky when Warriors decided to break for lunch. At this point, they were far from Kakariko, and the road was beginning to thin down. They found a nice tree to stop under, and Wild and Four began prepping meat and veggie skewers for everyone.
As soon as he had the chance, Legend sat down and started reorganizing his bag. Upon seeing this, Time finally detached himself from Wind’s side so he could stand and observe Legend’s meticulous sorting of his artifacts.
At first, Legend was content to ignore the kid. But after a couple minutes, the silence began to get to him.
(Time’s intense, eerie stare probably got to him, too. )
Hyrule casually sidled up to Wind’s side.
“Five rupees that Legend cracks first,” he signed.
Wind snorted. “I’m not stupid enough to bet against that,” he signed back. Time could wait out a forty-year siege in perfect silence—at any age.
Legend continued to reorganize everything Time had messed up the night before. Eventually, though, the quiet grew to be too much for him. Like a prophecy, Legend cleared his throat and side-eyed the kid.
“Um,” he said aloud. “Thanks for, uh, washing my bag off last night?”
“Yes, sir!” Time saluted. It was a weirdly dynamic action after a solid seven minutes of standing perfectly still.
“You—” Legend sighed. “You really don't have to call me sir,” he said.
“You're not a sir?”
“Well, mostly I am,” Legend admitted. “To be honest, I don't give a crap. But, uh, you know I'm only eighteen, right?”
“Really? I thought you were older than Twilight.”
Down by the food-prep corner, Wild shoved his fist into his mouth, turning a painful shade of red. Next to him, Four burst into a coughing fit.
“Kid, you're amazing, you know that?” Warriors choked, desperately trying to maintain composure. “You are my hero.”
Legend glared at him. “Hey, Link. Out of curiosity, how old do you think the Captain is?”
Time squinted at Warriors. “… Sixteen?” he guessed.
Wild slumped over onto Four for support. Four clutched his stomach and wheezed.
(Lunch was served a few minutes later than it could have been. As always, it was delicious.)
The further north they traveled, the thicker the forest grew. The road eventually vanished, overrun with wilderness, and they ended up stumbling through unblazed trails and thorny thickets.
At this point, Wild took over the lead. He had a rusty traveler’s sword in hand, and he cleared a path for the rest of them to follow. Every once in a while, they would stop and check the angle of the sun, making sure they were still traveling north. It was hard to keep track when the forest was so dense.
But something was strange about it, too. The breeze upon Wind’s skin was hot, and despite the cool shade of the forest, Wind found that his mouth dried up quickly. He had to take several sips of water throughout the hike: moreso than usual. The whole thing smelled off.
It took a while for it to hit him, but at some point, the realization caused Wind to stop in his tracks.
“Something wrong, Sailor?” Warriors asked from behind.
“Do—” Wind frowned. “Do you smell saltwater?”
The whole group paused.
Twilight sniffed the air, and a look of confusion crept over his face. “Now that you mention it, I do.”
“Is there an ocean nearby?” Hyrule asked. He looked around, but there were only trees and bushes in their line of sight. “I thought this place was landlocked…”
“You never know,” Warriors muttered. He pulled out their map and bit his lip, eyeing the empty section. “This place is uncharted.”
It was only a few minutes later that they found the explanation. The sound of running water drew Twilight’s attention, and when they searched for the source, they found a small, slow-moving creek.
Wild stuck his finger into the water, and then licked the liquid off his hand. “Salty,” he confirmed, twisting his mouth into a displeased frown.
“Fun!” Four threw his hands up in the air. “I’m overflowing with joy! We are so blessed!”
Twilight knelt down and flicked at the creek, watching the ripples spread across the surface. “No wonder this place is uninhabited. If all the water sources are like this…”
“Do we have enough water?” Sky asked. He checked his own bottle. “It’s been rather warm, but if we can’t refill, our time here is limited.”
“I’ve got hydromelons in my slate,” Wild said, flicking through the screen. “Two days’ worth. Five, if we’re going to be really conservative about it.”
“We have to start rationing the drinking water,” Warriors decided. “Hopefully, fixing the curse will fix this, but if not, it’s best to be prepared. We don’t know how long this quest is going to take.”
Time picked up a dead leaf and gently dropped it into the creek. The water spun it around a few times, slowly pushing it along.
Wind took a step forward and pointed in the direction opposite of Time’s impromptu boat. “So, that way, then?”
Four blinked. “What?”
Wind pointed harder and frowned. “That way,” he said, slowly. “That’s where we have to go.”
“I mean, I guess that is north,” Wild muttered.
“No, he’s right,” Legend said. “If this is some sort of contaminant we have to purify, then we’d want to go upstream. To the source.”
“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense.”
Wind huffed.
The creek twisted and turned. Every so often, Wild would take another taste of the water. It was still salty. The fact both fascinated and frustrated him—he kept pulling up various grasses and plants and shaking them furiously, trying to determine how exactly this forest was surviving off saltwater. He was about ready to eat one when Hyrule reminded him that if the water was cursed to be non-potable, the plant life was almost certainly cursed as well. That suggestion was alarming enough on its own, but Twilight, for some reason, chose that moment to announce that he hadn’t heard a bird call in two hours.
“Maybe if there’s no wildlife, there won’t be any monsters, either,” Four muttered. Sky quickly hushed him, superstitious to the core.
Eventually, right as they were about to call it a day: they came across their first sign of civilization since entering the woods.
“Oh,” Legend said, upon seeing the cabin. “Oh, I don’t like this.”
Wind didn’t like it, either. The cabin was still intact, with glass in its windows and the vague memory of a footpath leading up to its door, but it was obviously abandoned. Ivy and moss covered its walls, and parts of the roof had rotted and fallen through. The windows, first and second floor alike, were dirty and cracked, making it impossible to see through to the inside.
Plus, save for the trickling of a saltwater creek, it was dead silent.
“Well, you know what they say about abandoned cabins,” Wild said.
“What do they say?” Twilight asked.
Wild winced. “I can’t remember,” he admitted. “I was hoping one of you would finish the saying…”
Twilight let out a humorless chuckle before drawing his weapon. Warriors and Sky exchanged a glance before adjusting their positions to cover Tiny Time. The other members of their group drew their swords as well, with the exception of Wild, who opted for his bow. With a final nod of acknowledgment, Twilight took the lead and walked up to the door of the cabin.
Out of nowhere, a chill swept down Wind’s spine. His right hand went numb with cold, and all the hair on his arms stood on end.
“Rancher, wait—”
The door burst open. Twilight barely managed to pull his blade for a block, and a metallic clang rang across the clearing.
One, two, three stalfos came sprinting out of the cabin, their bones rattling. Two wore armor; all three held spiked flails. The tallest one swung its weapon at Twilight, who leapt backward, narrowly avoiding the strike.
Hyrule rushed in to take Twilight’s place. He parried an attack, dodged another, and tucked into a roll. Nimbly, he popped up to his feet, flanking the skeletons. He kicked the unarmored one as hard as he could. Its femur bone slipped out of its pelvis.
Hyrule lifted his head, hair falling in his face, and his eyes widened. “Champ, behind you!”
Wild whirled around and swung his bow, batting a keese out of the air, but more were right behind it. Legend stepped up, swapping his sword for his ice rod. He shot out a blast of magic, icing a good few.
Hyrule knocked out another femur bone from the unarmored stalfos. With its legs out, the bones all clattered to the dirt, and he knocked its skull away with the flat side of his blade, sending it flying into the woods.
Twilight had engaged another one of them in single combat. He seemed to have it in hand, so Wind and Four exchanged a glance before going for the third one. They tag-teamed it: covering each other’s weak points, overwhelming it with offense.
But this one wasn’t easy. It had a shield, which was always a pain in the ass to deal with. The stalfos kept its guard up, and while Wind and Four were both very good at being annoying, they just couldn’t get an opening.
“I hate keese!” Warriors shouted from somewhere behind Wind.
“That’s not a keese,” Time’s unconcerned voice commented.
“Yeah, of course, it’s a— oh, heck, that’s not a keese!”
Wind didn’t have time to think of what was going on there. He dodged another swing of the stalfos’ flail and retreated a few steps, boots skidding across the dirt.
Snap!
Twilight managed to break the arm of the stalfos he’d been fighting, but when Wind glanced over, he could see black ooze dripping from the wound in the bone.
“This is bullroar,” Twilight complained. He twirled his sword around and braced himself for the next strike.
Four rolled out of the way of a flail attack and landed next to Wind, breathing hard. He blew a strand of his hair out of his face and looked over.
“Thoughts?” he asked.
“I dunno,” Wind grumbled. “We need to, to, to get its shield out of the way. Maybe go overhead—?”
He cut off. Another chill went down his spine, and it felt like ice was pushing down on his shoulders. He shivered, nearly dropping his sword.
“Sailor?” Four asked, concerned.
“Duck!” Wind yelled, He tackled Four to the ground.
A white blur rushed through the air, right where they just were. When Wind looked up, he saw the skull Hyrule sent off twitching on the ground, preparing to reconnect with the rest of its bones.
“Oh, hell no,” Four hissed. He shook Wind off, pushed himself up to his feet and sprinted.
Right as the skeleton reached down to pick up its skull, Four leapt through the air. He aimed his feet, and he landed right on top of the stalfos’ detached head, relishing in the crunch of bone beneath his boots. Black ooze splattered out, but the bones crumbled into dust.
“Nice one!” Wind called out.
“Thanks!” Four grinned. Then his eyes fixed on something behind Wind, and he recoiled in shock.
Wind turned around. “Hey, what the fuck?” he cursed.
There was a bear.
Warriors waved his scarf around like a flag while Sky held Time in his arms, keeping the kid out of its range. Time, to his credit, was not struggling in Sky’s grip, but he didn’t look particularly happy about it, either.
“Hey, Champion!” Warriors yelled. “How do you fight a bear?”
Wild, who at this point was holding a wooden club, batted another keese out of the air. “What?” he yelled back.
“A bear!” Wind shouted, helping to relay the message. “There’s a fucking bear—oh, shit—”
He rolled out of the way of the stalfos’ flail. It turned its eyesockets in his direction, and he couldn’t help but stick out his tongue.
A boomerang flew, hitting the stalfos right in the forehead.
“Sailor, boost!”
Wind turned his back to the stalfos and crouched, holding out his hands as a step. Four sprinted, and without hesitation, planted a foot on Wind’s hands.
Wind boosted him into the air. As Four reached the peak of his arc, he pulled out his hammer and brought it down, nailing the stalfos right in the skull. It stumbled, but it did not die. Black blood dripped from the dent in its skull.
“Fuuuuck,” Wind said to himself. He really thought it’d go down in one blow, but of course, they weren’t that lucky.
Wild and Sky had swapped places, now—Sky and Legend were handling the last dozen or so of the keese with a whip and an ice rod respectively, and Wild had pulled out a spear and was jabbing at the bear. One of Wild’s strikes hit home, and the tip of his spear came away bloody. And black.
“Can this happen?” he asked, staring at the spearhead, cross-eyed. “Is this a thing that can happen?!”
“Apparently!” Warriors shouted.
Meanwhile, Four shot Wind a serious look. He spun his hammer in his hands. “Think we can get away with another jump like that?”
“Doubt it,” Wind admitted. The issue with black-blooded monsters was not their strength or stamina. It was the fact that they learned. Thinking hard, he twirled his sword around and kicked at the dirt beneath his feet, feeling the texture.
Four frowned. “I just sharpened your blade—”
“Nah.” Wind shook his head. “The earth is too packed, here, and we’re not desperate enough yet—”
Legend’s startled voice cut through the chaos. “Kid, get off of my back!”
“Sailor, duck!”
Wind turned around.
Time had stolen Legend’s slingshot out of his pack. He loaded some small item into it, and he stared down the stalfos with a determined expression.
“Link,” Wind said, stomach swooping. “That had better be explosive ammo or some shit—”
“Duck!” the kid ordered.
Wind ducked.
A chunk of meat, leftover from lunch, flew through the air. It passed right through the stalfos eye socket. Wind would have been impressed with Time’s aim if it weren’t so useless—
“Cap!” Wild tackled Warriors out of the way of the raging bear. The bear barreled by, ignoring them both… and went straight for the stalfos.
It swallowed the monster’s skull in one swift bite. The rest of the bones crumbled, and the bear whirled around, roaring.
Catching on, Wild quickly summoned a cut of raw meat from his slate. In a flash of blue, he pulled out a longbow and stuck the meat onto the end of an arrow.
“Hi!” he said, in the most out-of-place, friendly tone he could manage. “Are you hungry?”
The bear turned and locked its eyes on him.
“Sweet!” Wild said, beaming wide. “Or, savory, I guess! Is meat considered savory?”
“Champion!” Warriors hissed.
“Right, sorry!” Wild raised his meat arrow and fired. It flew deep into the woods. The bear roared, loud enough to make Wind’s brain spin, and then it sprinted into the forest, chasing after the meat.
Sky took out one last keese with his whip. Twilight finally managed to cleave the last stalfos’ skull. They all held their breath: one, two, three.
When nothing else jumped out at them, they all exhaled and began putting their weapons away.
Wind turned to the kid, and he chewed on his lip for a moment before he opened his mouth.
“Um. Nice shot,” he said, feeling a little bad for his doubt. “And clever use of leftovers.”
Time smiled, beaming with pride—and then, as if remembering himself, he wiped away all his expression and crossed his arms. The attitude reminded Wind a little of Tetra.
Warriors went around, taking stock of everyone’s health. No one had gotten injured, save for Four skinning his elbows, but Four almost always got injured so it wasn’t too worrying. Finally, Warriors completed his survey.
“Glad that everybody’s okay—”
“Beware of bears!” Wild shouted, snapping his fingers.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
“I remembered,” Wild explained, looking extremely pleased with himself. He placed his hands on his hips and stood as tall as he could. “You know what they say about abandoned cabins: beware of bears!”
The inside of the cabin was just as abandoned as the outside had suggested. There were no personal items, no remnants of the living. A thick layer of dust coated the room, and fading sunlight streamed in through the hole on the roof, casting sharp shadows across the aged furniture. It smelled musty. Obviously, no one had been here for a while.
Hyrule ran a hand across the floor and licked the dust off his finger. “Um, maybe fifty years old, give or take?” he offered.
Legend whipped his head around and glared at Wild. “Are you teaching him this shit?”
“What, it’s a useful skill!”
Sky cleared his throat. “I’ll check out the upstairs,” he volunteered, talking over Wild and Legend’s mock-argument.
“Be careful with those steps,” Twilight warned.
Sky nodded. He walked over to the old staircase and began the climb, carefully testing each step before putting his full weight.
Four moved deeper into the room, studying the lonely furniture. There was a nightstand with a drawer in the back of the room. He yanked it open, sneezing at the subsequent cloud of dust, and he pulled out a small bundle of books. Warriors moved to join him as they investigated the papers.
“Anything interesting?” Twilight asked. Time was with him, and they circled the perimeter, knocking on the walls and listening for hidden spaces.
“This is a trapper’s journal,” Warriors said, flipping through the pages. “And some hunt logs. I think they helped provide for the temple in the area?”
“Huh.”
In the meantime, Wind decided to pull all the cushions off the chairs. His efforts were rewarded: he actually found a red rupee in there. People always lost money to the void of a comfortable couch.
Sky’s voice traveled down from the second story. “Um, guys?”
“You good?” Legend asked, snapping to attention.
“I’m fine,” Sky said. “The stairs are safe. I just… uh, it’s probably easier if you see this for yourself…”
Wild and Hyrule were first up the stairs, with Legend right on their heels. Four and Warriors were next, then Twilight, then Time, and Wind brought up the rear. The stairs groaned under their weight, but the construction was solid, and soon all of them had joined Sky upstairs.
Like the ground floor, this room was sparsely decorated. There was a bed, along with a massive hole where the roof had caved in, but outside of that, it matched most of Wind’s expectations for an abandoned hunter’s cabin in a cursed land.
What wasn’t expected was the clear set of fresh footprints left in the dust. They were too small to be Sky’s, and Sky’s face was too pale for this to be a joke, anyway. Whoever left those prints left them recently. Maybe even while they were fighting those monsters outside, which was a thought.
But all of that paled in comparison to Sky’s observation. There was a message traced into the dirty glass of the window. Three words, written in the dust, letting a sharp stream of light cut into the room, and burning themselves into the back of Wind’s eyelids.
Are you sorry?
Out of nowhere, Wind’s hands suddenly felt like ice.
They did not sleep in the cabin.
The cabin was not that nice, anyway, and with that massive hole in the ceiling, there were several valid concerns about the construction of the building itself. Also, as Twilight put it, ‘I ain’t sleeping with no ghost.’
Once they were a good distance away from the cabin, the tension relaxed. Four made a few horrible puns, Legend dialed up his ‘easily riled asshole’ act, and soon, they were able to joke about the entire encounter. They spent a few minutes around the campfire tossing around theories, but no one could come up with a satisfactory explanation.
“Besides,” Legend said, sagely. “It’ll come back to haunt us when we find this cursed temple, or whatever. We can get our answers when we clear the dungeon.”
“Good point,” Hyrule agreed. “You always get good lore at the end of a dungeon.”
Wind nodded. He was sitting close to the fire, warming his hands. The chills had gone away, and there was no sign of their return, so he chalked it up to being the ghost in the cabin. If there was one. Whatever.
A small body dropped into the space next to him. Wind looked over, unsurprised to see Baby Time.
“I think Twilight has it,” Time whispered, jumping straight to the point.
“Let me guess,” Wind said. “He looks suspicious?”
“He’s too nice to me,” Time said, incredibly serious. “I think he’s attempting to deflect suspicion.”
Wind suspected that Twilight had some sort of ‘insane only child who desperately wants a little sibling’ complex going on, but the deflecting suspicion thing worked, too.
“Do you have any ideas?” Time asked.
“You should talk to Sky,” Wind suggested. “Ask him if he has anything that will knock Twilight out. And then offer Twilight sleepy tea, because Twilight will not say no. Especially if you tell him that you made it yourself.”
Time twisted his mouth. “How do you know that?”
“I just do,” Wind said. He patted Time on the head. “Go forth, and bring chaos to the old man.”
Time nodded. He scrambled to his feet and ran over to Sky.
Good, Wind thought. With any luck, they’ll distract each other and wear themselves out.
Dinner came and went. Time, like a novice, publicly announced his intention to brew tea for Twilight. Twilight, predictably, let this inflate his ego so much that he was completely insufferable for the entire seven minutes of tea preparation.
Then, when he actually took a sip, a shiver of disgust traveled throughout his entire body.
Time blinked at him. “Is it good?” he asked, with a perfect poker face.
Twilight forced himself to swallow. “Great!” he said, voice hoarse. “It’s… delicious.”
"I used the saltwater," Time said. "Since we're rationing the drinking water."
"I can tell!" Twilight said. He stared at Time, waiting for the kid to look away so he could dump out the tea, but Time did not blink. The kid just waited, an expectant look in his allegedly innocent eyes.
Twilight shakily lifted up his mug to have another sip.
While all that was going down, Wind took the opportunity to bother Warriors. The Captain was in the middle of examining their stolen map. He was so engrossed in his task that he didn't hear Wind walk up behind him.
Wind placed his mouth right next to Warriors’ ear. “I want second watch.”
“Hylia, kill me!” Warriors swore, clutching at his chest. He turned and flicked Wind’s forehead. “Give a guy some warning! You scared the shit out of me!”
“Thanks,” Wind said, beaming wide. “Can I, can I have second watch?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
Wind blinked.
“What?”
“You're not gonna question it?” Wind asked. “Not gonna ask me for my reasons?”
“Should I be worried?” Warriors asked, eyeing him warily.
“No.”
“Then why would I complain about giving away the worst shift of the night?”
“That's what I said!” Wind exclaimed. “You know what? Sorry for, uh, for being a brat sometimes. You'd be a better leader than the Rancher, I think.”
“Let’s be honest.” Warriors placed a hand on Wind’s shoulder and pulled on a solemn expression. “It doesn't matter who’s in charge: you’d still hate them. You just have authority issues.”
“You got me there.”
Sky took the first night shift. No doubt he and Time were using the opportunity to go through Twilight’s bag. Wind wasn’t curious; he doubted that Twilight had the ocarina, because if he did, he probably would have given it to Time the second the kid mentioned the item.
A few hours passed, and Sky gently shook Wind awake for second watch.
“Didja find it?” Wind slurred, rubbing his eyes.
“No,” Sky said, unconcerned and unsurprised. “Went through the bag. Stared at the moon. It took him two whole hours to fall asleep after that.”
“I wonder if he’s right,” Wind said. He stretched his arms over his head and kept a careful eye on Sky’s body language. “You think somebody here stole it?”
Sky shrugged and bit his lip. “If anybody has it,” he said, “it’s probably Miss Malon.”
Sky was a good liar, but everyone had a tell.
Wind waited for Sky to completely fall asleep. Then he waited another ten minutes. And once he was sure he was completely alone, he reached into his pack and finally, finally pulled out Sky’s journal.
Unlabeled. Nondescript. Wind traced a finger over the leather cover, letting the texture sink into his fingertips. Breathing in, he untied the strings keeping it closed and flipped it open.
Sky had neat handwriting, but horrid organization. The entries were haphazard: some dated, some not. He hardly ever kept to the lines of the page, and there were entries that were written sideways and upside-down. They were also sporadic, and often short.
Saw that thing again. Really ugly. I don't like it. Why does it keep showing up?
I didn't see their face. Who are they? What do they want?
She fell. My feet couldn’t move. I couldn't do anything but watch.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
I don't understand.
At some point, Sky gave up on writing entirely. As Wind flipped through the pages, messy ink drawings began to appear. Horrible beasts and monsters, ruined buildings, shattered dreams. Were it not for the subject matter, Wind would have been impressed. The art rapidly improved in quality. But unlike with Sky's woodcarvings, there was no joy in these sketches. The lines were thick and frantic: the drawings of a desperate witness trying to impress an image before it faded away.
As he progressed through the journal, the imagery shifted. Still disturbing, but familiar, now. There were several drawings of portals. Temples and dungeons from eras not Sky’s own. The dungeon boss that put Warriors out of commission for a few weeks. The lynel that nearly impaled Hyrule. Every monster that caused them a major injury. Every gruesome wound, captured in eternal ink.
On the verge of regret, Wind turned another page—and froze.
Terrified and confused, he thumbed through the pages, hoping for some sort of context, some sort of explanation. His hands began to shake, bile began to rise up in his throat. But there was no closure. No release. Instead, he was greeted with the same horrible sight, over and over and over.
Why in the world would Sky have dozens of drawings of Legend’s rotting corpse?
Notes:
i'd forgotten how much work fight scenes are oh my GODokay everybody! plot is locked in and the stage is set! start placing your bets! :)
Chapter 5: Rabbit
Notes:
no beta we die like legend
(I JEST THIS IS A JOKE THIS STORY HAS A HAPPY ENDING)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Wind did not sleep.
How could he? After slamming Sky’s journal shut, he shoved it into Sky’s bag where he found it and counted the seconds away until it was time to wake Hyrule up for the next shift. Then he lay in his bedroll and counted the seconds away until dawn.
“Regretting the second watch, huh?” Warriors commented over early morning salty broth.
“Fuck the shut up,” Wind grumbled. He then tripped over a twig and smashed his face into the ground.
If he thought that continuing their journey would take his mind off of Sky’s morbid artwork, he thought wrong. The forest was as noiseless as it was the day before. It felt strange—sinful, even—to break the silence. Conversations were carried out through sign, and the roaring quiet made it impossible for Wind to keep his brain from fixing on what the fuck kind of bullshit is Sky keeping under wraps.
Sky didn’t seem different. A little tired from reduced sleep hours, maybe, but he was still the same, easygoing person Wind had come to know. Always ready with a friendly word and a subtle comeback. He did not seem to be the type of person who enjoyed gore, let alone gore of their motley crew.
But Wind could not erase the image. Legend, slumped over on cold stone, blood from a slash across his face pooling in his collarbones, clothes torn asunder. Legend, in various states of decay, alone, unseen, forgotten.
Up ahead, Sky shared a story about his adventure. He gestured with his whole body, and his face lit up with joy and nostalgia. Both Four and Hyrule were mesmerized, with Wild occasionally glancing over, paying rapt attention to his tale. It was so normal.
Someone tugged on Wind’s shirt. He managed to suppress his flinch.
“Maybe the Smithy has it,” Time signed, foregoing any form of greeting.
“You think so?” Wind replied, going through the motions.
Time squinted at Four. “He seems like he has secrets.”
Everyone had secrets. Wind had secrets. Time had secrets.
Sky had secrets, and fuck. Wind, against his greater judgement, was horribly, horribly curious.
“Can you help me?” Time asked him, blinking at him with eyes somewhere between innocence and desperation.
“As long as Sky isn’t in on it,” Wind signed.
He felt a sudden stab of guilt, but he quickly squashed it. He didn’t think he could look at Sky without giving away the fact that he had stolen his diary. And he was not ready for that conversation.
Time tilted his head. “Why not?”
“If we team up too often, it’ll be obvious that we’re doing something,” Wind explained. Technically true. Still a lie.
Time mulled over that, and after a moment, he nodded. “Do you have a plan?”
“Give me a couple hours,” Wind signed. “The Smithy’s smart; we’ll have to be smarter.”
“Okay.”
And that was that.
Time matched Wind’s walking pace and stuck to his side. His hands began to twitch, playing that mysterious tune, and Wind studied the pattern in an attempt to distract his brain from the thought of Legend’s rotting corpse.
It did not work.
A few hours later, they came across their next signs of civilization. Tree stumps. Overgrown paths. A broken cart with a bundle of forgotten, moth-eaten clothing.
And then there were the buildings. They were in slightly better shape than the hunter’s cabin, but they were equally empty. Instinctively, Wild stopped at the edge of the clearing, hesitant to walk into what could be another ambush.
Warriors picked up a stone from the ground, testing its weight. Then he chucked it. The rock flew through the air, and with perfect aim, it smashed a window. Wind flinched—the shattering glass was the loudest thing he’d heard in hours.
“Area’s probably clear,” Warriors decided, speaking aloud. “That sound would have alerted any monsters. Or bears.”
“You never know,” Legend muttered. His hand drifted to his sword. “Those black-blooded bastards are eerily smart, sometimes.”
But he stepped into the clearing anyway. When nothing happened, he looked back, waiting for further instruction.
“Should we split up?” Twilight asked.
Warriors gave the place a quick once-over. It was a small community, only six buildings, though Wind had the impression that this was more of a way station than a full village. Bed and breakfast, stables, general store, a forge; all places to stock up and have things repaired. If there were a road, it would have passed right through.
“It should be safe,” Warriors said. “The sounds of fighting would carry in this quiet; we’ll all know. Scream if you need help or something.”
“Buddy system, then,” Twilight prompted. He wasn’t looking at Time, but he wasn’t not looking at him, either.
“I wanna go with the Smithy and the Sailor,” Time announced.
Twilight sighed.
“It’s okay, Goatman.” Wild grinned and elbowed Twilight in the side. “It’s normal to experience crushing disappointment at your age.”
“I… don’t know how I’m supposed to interpret that.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Wild said. “You, me, and the Traveler?”
“Dream team!” Hyrule cheered, bouncing up to join Wild and Twilight.
Twilight never looked more like an old man than he did at that moment.
“I’ll take Sky and the Vet, then,” Warriors said. His tone was serious, but his lips quirked up, betraying his amusement.
“Aye, aye, cap’n.” Wind turned to Four and Time. “So where are we going first?”
Four was already walking. “The forge, obviously.” He did not wait or look back.
Time—unnecessarily—stepped on Wind’s toes. “What’s the plan?” he signed.
“We don’t even need one, anymore,” Wind admitted. “He’s literally distracting himself.”
While Four inspected the forge in the name of ‘investigation,’ Wind and Time inspected his bag.
Four, obviously, did not have Time’s ocarina. He did have one of Wild’s hairbrushes, a box that contained nothing but buttons from Warriors’ shirts, and also the knife that Twilight had been loudly missing for the past two weeks. Wind made a mental note to talk to Four more—clearly, they had a lot more in common than he’d previously assumed.
But even among Four’s collection of stolen items, there was no ocarina.
They ended up sitting on a bench in the shop, watching Four dart around and throw open cupboards to judge the abandoned forge.
“Maybe the Captain has it,” Time said.
“Why the Captain?”
“He has ocarina fingers,” Time said, which. He was really running out of options if that was the excuse he used.
Wind glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “What are you gonna do if none of us have it?”
“It’s here, somewhere.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it has to be,” Time said, denying the alternative. “Because I have to go back to Clock Town.”
Wind swallowed. Four was inspecting a crucible, not even aware of their conversation.
“Your ocarina,” Wind signed slowly. “It lets you travel through time, doesn’t it?”
Time turned his head and stared. After a long moment, he nodded.
Wind exhaled. “Thought you were gonna lie for that one,” he admitted.
“But you get it, right?” Time asked. “Why I need it. The moon fell. I can stop it.”
“I get it,” Wind signed, and it was true.
Wind remembered being twelve, chasing pearls and swords and courage and anything that could give him a fighting chance against evil. If he had something that powerful, he would have used it to its fullest potential.
Satisfied with Wind’s answer, Time relaxed his posture. He drummed his fingers on the bench and swung his restless legs. His feet kicked air, hovering about an inch off the ground.
Did Wind ever look so young when he was saving the world?
“You know,” Four said, when they finally left the abandoned forge, “that place made lots of weapons. Strange.”
“It’s a blacksmith’s, right?” Wind asked. “What’s so strange about that?”
“This place feels like a rest stop, right?” Four gestured to the buildings around them. “I’d expect horseshoes, or axles, or other everyday things. But there were a lot of rusty swords and crossbow tips in the back. I even found chain mail. You don’t make chain mail on a whim. I thought we were in temple territory—why would a temple need so many weapons?”
“The curse?” Wind suggested.
Four twisted his mouth. “Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.”
A door opened, and they looked up to see Warriors, Legend, and Sky coming out of the inn. Sky waved when he saw them. Wind hesitantly lifted a hand in acknowledgment.
“Find anything?” Warriors asked, drawing closer.
Four shared his observations regarding the forge. Warriors stroked his chin in thought.
“The implications are consistent, at least,” Warriors said. “The check-in logs show a mass exodus. It all took place within the span of a couple of weeks. This curse hit fast, and hit hard.”
“No details?” Four asked.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Shall we keep going, then?” Sky asked, and he pointed to one of the unexplored houses on the end.
The house looked very normal. Or at least, as normal as an abandoned house could be. A cold breeze blew by, and Wind shivered.
“Probably,” he muttered.
When they walked over, he made sure to be as far away from Sky as possible.
The interior of the house was more populated than the hunter’s cabin, but it was still easy to tell that the occupants had left in a hurry. Cabinets were left open, things had been left lying about. The most notable thing, though, were the shards of shattered glass scattered on the floor.
The windows were all intact—this wasn’t the house Warriors had chucked a rock at—so there was no clear explanation as to why there was glass on the ground. Warriors knelt down and picked up a piece. He blew on it and sneezed when the dust got into his face.
“What is it?” Legend asked.
Warriors wiped away some of the dust with his sleeve. “It’s a mirror.”
“Knocked it over on the way out, maybe?” Four offered.
“Most likely.”
Sky had wandered over to the back window. He ran a finger across the windowsill, and a strange expression crossed his face. He looked outside.
“I’m gonna check out the back,” he announced, staring through the glass.
Wind couldn’t help but question it. “You see something?” he asked, the tone more challenging than he intended.
“Thought I saw a rabbit.” Sky looked back at the group once more. Then he turned away, opened the window, and started climbing out. “There’s a statue in the garden, I think. I can’t tell what it is under all the mint.”
He stepped outside and ran off.
“Do you need—aaand, he’s gone,” Four said. “I’ll catch up with him.” He ran forward and attempted to parkour his way through the window, but he ended up banging his knee on the sill. He yelped and landed on the ground with a thump.
“I’m okay!” he said, but it sounded like he was holding back tears.
“He’s so clumsy,” Warriors muttered. “I swear, it’s like there are four different people trying to control his body, sometimes.”
“Well, I guess I’ll check out the upstairs,” Legend said, stretching and popping his back. “Sailor, come with?”
“Um. Sure,” Wind said, still looking at the window through which Sky had left. What the fuck?
“Guess that leaves you and me, little buddy!” Warriors turned to look at Time and tried for a welcoming smile.
Time blinked at him. He squinted at Warriors’ bag. Then he nodded.
(Wind decided that the kid could handle Warriors by himself.)
Legend took the lead on the way up the stairs. He moved normally, like a living person who was alive, which made Wind feel both reassured and anxious at the same time.
“Hey,” Wind said, once they reached the top.
“Hm?”
“Is…” Wind furrowed his brow. “Is, uh, everything alright with you and Sky?”
Legend turned around. “What.”
“You and Sky,” Wind said, feeling incredibly awkward. “He’s not like… mad? Or worried? Or stressed?”
“Uh, not to my knowledge?” Legend lifted an eyebrow. “Why? Did he say something to you?”
Wind shook his head. “I dunno. He’s just, it’s—it’s been a weird few days.”
“I’ll say.” Legend sighed. “First the wizzrobe, and now this cursed land business… this whole place is weird as hell. If breaking this curse doesn’t turn Time back to normal, I’m gonna spit on a goddess statue. Why does he carry so much stuff. I’ve been lugging his shit for days, and it’s not even that interesting.”
“You haven’t seen his ocarina, have you?” Wind blurted out.
Legend turned a knowing eye onto Wind. “Don’t you have it?”
“What?” Wind stuttered, caught off guard. “Uh, no. Why would, why would you think that?”
“I thought you and Sky knew where it was and were just keeping him distracted so he wouldn’t run off on his own. Hence the attempted heists.”
Wind coughed into his elbow, and the tips of his ears burned. “You knew?”
Legend rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know when my tea is poisoned?”
Paranoia of a hunted rabbit, indeed.
The upstairs room was a small bedroom: two beds, a nightstand, and a desk, with a window overlooking the back of the house. Legend went for the desk and started opening up drawers, searching for anything that could shed light on this cursed land. Wind desperately wanted to ask more questions about Sky, but he couldn’t form the words. He didn’t know where to begin.
He walked over to the window. There was dust on the sill, left untouched for Wild-knows-how-long. When he looked outside, he could see Sky and Four below, hacking away at the mint, attempting to free the statue from the botanical prison.
Huh. Maybe Wind was just being paranoid about Sky. For all he knew, drawing detailed images of Legend’s rotting corpse was therapeutic.
His brain hurt with all the overthinking, so he dropped himself down onto the bed, sending a loud of dust into the air. He sneezed.
“It’s kind of cold in here,” Wind commented.
“You think so?” Legend shuffled through some papers. “This whole land is hot. It’s like we’re in a desert, not a temperate forest.”
“Yeah, I felt that when we were walking,” Wind agreed. “Maybe the insulation in this room is… is off…” he trailed off.
Legend shrugged, his focus on the papers in front of him.
Wind sat up, suddenly aware of just how cold it was. Almost instinctively, he turned to face the nightstand next to the bed. When he reached out his hand, he felt the temperature drop. The cold flashes from the hunter’s cabin resurfaced in his memory. A vice of ice wrapped around his forearm and tugged—not malicious, just insistent.
Holding his breath, Wind grabbed the nightstand and dragged it away from the bed. The cold vanished.
“Find something?” Legend asked, drawn by the sound of Wind moving furniture around.
“Maybe.”
Wind knelt down and knocked on the floorboards. When he hit the hollow one, he lifted it up and pulled out a dusty chest.
“Thanks, I think,” he muttered. The cold did not return.
“What the—how the hell did you know that was there?”
“Sixth sense.” Wind tried to pry open the chest, but it was locked. He reached into his bag, pulled out a pick and a tension wrench, and got to work. “I get it from my grandma.”
The lock, thankfully, had not rusted shut. It was a little stiffer than Wind had anticipated, but eventually the pins clicked into place, and he was able to pop open the lid. There were keepsakes inside: a silver ring, a recorder flute, one half of a friendship bracelet.
There was also an envelope—undisturbed and sealed shut with wax. Wind broke the seal and unfolded the sheet of paper inside.
I should have fought harder. I knew it wasn’t you—I told them it wasn’t you—but the evidence kept piling up, and now we are all paying the price. I couldn’t find out where they kept your body, so this is all I have left. I brought what I could home. I hope that will be enough.
When I find the bastard that took your face, I’ll show it the same mercy it showed you.
May the Silent Goddess keep you.
“Now that’s a fucking clue,” Wind said. He turned around and lifted the letter. “What do you think—why are you looking at me like that.”
“Sailor,” Legend said slowly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Tell me the sixth sense thing is a joke.”
“Uh, the sixth sense thing is a joke?”
“Because if we’ve been surrounded by ghosts the entire time—”
“It’s just hero’s intuition,” Wind lied. “Damn, are you scared of ghosts or something?”
“… No.”
“Holy Farore, you are, aren’t you.”
Legend scowled. “I prefer being able to see my enemies, that’s all.”
“Don’t worry,” Wind said, and he patted Legend on the back. “I won’t tell anyone. Also, the ghost is friendly. I think.”
“Sailor—”
“It’s a joke!”
When they went down the stairs, Wind took the lead.
Warriors studied the letter with intense focus while Time stood on a table and looked through his backpack. Neither Wind nor Legend said anything about it. If Warriors couldn’t keep an eleven-year-old out of his stuff, then—in Wind’s professional opinion—he kind of deserved to get robbed.
“Must be that innocent victim you and the Rancher mentioned.” Warriors lifted his head to look at Legend: a motion that nearly caused Time to lose his balance and fall off the table. The kid managed to catch himself in time, all without making a sound. Wind was impressed.
“What sticks out to me is ‘the bastard that took your face,’” Legend said. “Is that literal? Figurative?”
“I hope it’s figurative. But knowing our luck? Literal.”
Time took his hand out of the outer pocket of Warriors’ backpack. He looked at Wind and shook his head. Wind gave him a half-shrug in response; he would have been very surprised if it turned out that Warriors had the ocarina.
“We’re back!”
Four hopped through the back window. He landed—successfully—and he straightened up, looking very proud of himself. Sky came behind him, climbing through the window at a more reasonable pace.
“Find anything?”
Sky shrugged. “Statue of Hylia.”
“‘The Silent Goddess.’ Yeah, I can see that,” Legend muttered under his breath.
“It was buried under a ton of mint,” Four added. He sniffed his shirt. “Unrelatedly, do you think the Rancher will be bothered? I know he’s sensitive to smell, but also bathing in saltwater sounds super uncomfortable.”
“The mint can’t be any worse than how bad you normally smell.”
“Captain, just because you aren’t a teenager doesn’t mean you don’t smell like one.”
Sky laughed and left Four and Warriors to their banter. He walked over and stood next to Wind, looking at their companions with a fond smile.
Wind cleared his throat, and Sky glanced over.
“Hylia and mint? That’s all?” Wind asked. He studied Sky, praying that the other hero wouldn’t set off any alarms. If he did, maybe he could just write this all off as a lesson in letting others have their privacy. “You didn’t find anything else?”
Sky bit his lip and shook his head.
(Nayru’s fucking ass.)
They spent the night in the abandoned inn. There were no worrying footprints or messages left in the dust, and they hadn’t heard a single monster all day, so Twilight and Warriors jumped at the chance to sleep on a bed. Much to Wild and Hyrule’s dismay.
Hyrule grumbled as he spread his bedroll out on the hardwood. “Dirt is so much softer than a floor,” he complained. “This is awful.”
Legend made a face. “Then sleep on a bed?”
“Beds are too soft,” Hyrule declared. He looked at Legend with concern. “Don’t they hurt your back?”
“You terrify me.”
Wild, in the meantime, took over the inn’s kitchen. He swiftly returned with dinner: meat and mushroom skewers with hydromelon salad.
“Sorry that there’s no drinks,” he said, as he handed out the food. “I found a well in the back, but it was all saltwater.”
“It’s fine,” Twilight reassured him. “Thank you.”
The hydromelon felt good in Wind’s dry mouth, but dinner wasn’t as filling as he wanted it to be. He hoped they found the temple soon. It would be nice to have a meal and a refreshing glass of water to go with it.
“So,” Warriors said, swallowing a bite of hydromelon. “Things we’ve learned today. One at a time.”
“The dream team is unstoppable!” Wild declared.
Hyrule pumped a fist in the air. Twilight smiled in such a way that perfectly conveyed fatigue.
“Also, this area’s had black-blooded stuff for a long time,” Wild added, adopting a more serious tone. “We found a warning in the general store. All the animals are infected; it’s part of why everyone left fifty years ago. That, and the saltwater.”
“Fits with the large quantity of weapons,” Four said. He took a thoughtful bite of his food. “They probably ramped up production as a means of defense.”
“We also confirmed the rumor that a wrongful execution took place,” Warriors said. “Wind and Legend found… a goodbye letter, kind of. It almost sounded like whatever committed the crime took the victim’s face.”
“A shapeshifting monster?” Hyrule said. Twilight winced; he must be really terrified of things that could change their shape.
They had a quick discussion about whatever potential enemy they would have to face, but it felt like they were talking in circles. Wind zoned out and instead turned his attention to how Baby Time was sneaking around the perimeter of the room.
The kid made his way to Hyrule and sat down next to him, cross-legged. He started bouncing his leg, and he used that movement to obscure the motion of him reaching into Hyrule’s backpack to dig around.
Wind had to admit: he felt a little bit of pride. Look at the kid go, planning his heists and committing crimes on his own, like a big boy. Sure, he wasn’t very sneaky about it, but that was nothing a little practice couldn’t fix.
The discussion wrapped up and the room broke out into smaller conversations, winding down from a long day of travel. Time walked away from Hyrule’s bag empty-handed, and he ran up to Wind’s chosen bed and jumped onto the mattress.
“I haven’t searched the Champion’s stuff,” he said. “How do you open his magic bag thing?”
“Oh, the Sheikah slate?” Wind frowned. “Uhh… I think, I think you touch it and it lights up? Good luck getting it off of him, though.”
Time scrunched up his face, looking very much like the eleven year old he was. “He always has it with him,” he said.
“Yeah, and he rarely lets people touch the thing,” Wind said. “Well, maybe the Rancher, sometimes. But only when it’s really important.”
“Hm,” Time said. He frowned. “Hmmm.”
He jumped off of Wind’s bed and sat on the ground, thinking hard. After about thirty seconds, Time got to his feet and scrambled over to Wild’s makeshift blanket nest on the floor.
Oh, boy, Wind thought.
“Hey!” Time said into Wild’s face, far louder than he needed to be in the late evening. “Do you know any songs?”
Wild leaned away from Time, highly uncomfortable and confused. He glanced over at Twilight, and then back to the kid.
“Songs?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Time said. “Do you play an instrument? Do you have a flute in your slate? Or an ocarina?”
It was insane how Adult Time was a secretive asshole when his eleven-year-old self was the least subtle person on the planet.
“No,” Wild said, and his gaze became a little glassy. He frowned, and the silence stretched for two seconds too long. “No, I don't—I don’t play any instruments…”
Despite the awkward pause, it didn't feel like he was lying.
“So you don't have anything?” Time asked. He poked at Wild’s slate.
“I can show you?” Wild offered, hesitant. He unclipped his slate from his belt and tilted the screen so that Time could see. Time jabbed his finger at it, and Wind could see Wild’s spike of stress happen in real time.
“You don't have to push it so hard,” Wild said, sweating. “Just a light tap will do…”
Time swiped through the screens, frowning with concentration. After a thorough inspection, he paused and tilted his head.
“Hey, what does the bomb button do?” he asked, raising his finger.
“Okayyy, that’s enough!” Wild lifted his slate out of reach and pressed a button, causing the screen to go dark. “Anyone else have an instrument for the kid?”
“I’ve got an ocarina,” Four offered. Time spun his head around, but was met with disappointment when Four pulled out the instrument in question. “I got this for a quest. It doesn’t have an adventure use anymore, but I know how to play ‘Hot Cheese Buns.’”
“Oh, fun,” Legend said, faintly amused. “What’s next for the virtuoso? ‘Maree Had A Little Goat?’”
Four crossed his arms and scowled, ears red.
“Hey, yours is nice,” Warriors said, inspecting Four’s ocarina. “Is that wood? Mine’s ceramic; it’s pretty cheap.”
“Wooden ones do sound nicer,” Legend said. He pulled out his own instrument—wooden, of course—and lifted it up so the rest of the room could see. It, like the rest of his items, was in perfect condition.
But going by Time’s face, it still wasn’t what he was looking for.
“That’s a lot of ocarinas,” Hyrule said. “I have a recorder.”
“That’s a lot of woodwinds,” Sky commented. “I play the harp.”
“Like Sheik?” Time asked.
“Er. Yeah, whoever that is.”
“Do you all play instruments?” Wild asked, frowning hard enough to make a wrinkle appear on his forehead.
“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Twilight said. “I don’t know any instruments, either.”
“How about you, Wind?” Sky asked, looking over at him.
Wind stiffened. “Oh! I, uh. No. I had a conductor’s baton. No instruments of my own, though.”
“Wanna try?” Warriors asked, fishing out his ceramic ocarina.
Wind shrugged and moved closer. He took it into his hands.
“Here, like this,” Warriors said, adjusting his grip.
Wind frowned at the instrument. “So I just—blow air?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Wind held it up to his mouth. He inhaled and blew as hard as he could.
A sharp, high-pitched shriek pierced the air, and everyone clapped their hands over their ears.
“You don’t have to blow that hard!” Legend hissed.
“Sorry, sorry!”
Wind inhaled again and closed his eyes. In his mind, he pictured Time’s twitching hands, repeating a desperate pattern. Then, with great focus—he tried.
The notes came out, arrhythmic and uneven, but even Wind could hear the attempt at a melody. Startled, he lowered the ocarina from his mouth; he hadn’t been expecting that to sound as good or as haunting as it did.
Across the room, Time had risen to his feet. He stared at Wind, wide-eyed. “You know the Song of Time?” he demanded.
“No!” Wind yelped, flustered. “I just—uh, your fingers, they, they, they twitch a lot, and I just kinda, um, copied the movements…”
“Damn, you learned a song from that? ” Legend let out a low whistle, actually impressed. “We should teach you to play for real. With practice, you could probably give the Smithy a run for his money.”
“Shut up!” Four groaned.
Wind laughed, both flattered and uncomfortable—and then he looked over at Sky.
Sky sat on his bed, completely silent. But his chest rose and fell with an unvoiced fear, and his eyes were fixed on something a thousand miles away. His hand patted his hip, a subconscious attempt at reassuring himself. When he felt whatever it was in his pocket, his shoulders dropped, relieved.
And Wind knew exactly where he kept the ocarina.
(A quest in a cursed land.
An ocarina that could travel through time.
Legend’s rotting corpse.
What the fuck was Sky hiding?)
“Hey, Sailor.”
Wind fought the urge to jump out of his skin and forced a casual grin as he turned to look at Sky. “What’s up?”
“Warriors asked me to do a quick patrol before we sleep for the night,” Sky said. “Join me?”
Wind’s stomach swooped. Oh fuck, he knows. He knows that I know and I know that he knows that I know, but he doesn’t know that I know that he knows that I know—
“Sailor?” Sky tilted his head, hopeful.
“Yeah, um, sure!” Wind scrambled to put on his boots.
With his blood rushing in his ears, Wind followed Sky out of the inn. The silence was unbearable, and he tried and failed to steady his racing heart.
They circled the inn, quietly searching for any potential threats. Wind could barely focus on the task; so aware was he of every single cracking twig, of the way his lungs burned when holding his breath.
“So,” Sky said, completely unaware. “The Vet told me that you were worried about me—”
Wind panicked and drew his sword.
Sky whipped his head around, startled by the noise, but Wind had a headstart and the element of surprise. In the blink of an eye, he lowered the tip to the ground and drew four quick strokes in the dirt: the shape of an hourglass.
One.
The world stopped. Sky was frozen, mid-word, his eyes blown wide with shock. Wind took the opportunity to reach into his pocket and grab the first thing his hand closed around.
Two.
The ocarina was a rich color: somewhere between sky blue and evening purple, with a golden triforce set in the base of the mouthpiece. It was unnaturally cool to the touch, and made of some ethereal material that Wind could not identify. There wasn’t a single flaw in the surface.
Three.
When Wind looked up, Sky’s eyes were glued to the instrument, filled with shock and horror.
“I, I, I saw your diary,” Wind confessed, his fear and curiosity outweighing his shame. “I saw all your drawings.”
Four.
“Why do you have so many drawings of the Vet?” Wind begged. “Why would you—what’s going on? Is he okay? Are you okay?”
Five.
“You knew the song,” Wind rambled, his brain rapidly picking up pieces and shoving them together. “The song the kid’s always playing. He said it was the Song of Time. He said, he said that he needs the ocarina to time travel…”
Six.
“Is he gonna—is Legend gonna die?!” Wind asked, extrapolating. “Oh goddess, are we walking to his grave? Are you from the future? Have you seen this before? Do you know what’s gonna happen?”
Seven.
“Is that why you stole Time’s ocarina?!”
The world resumed.
Sky stumbled, struggling to breathe. He doubled over, inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling—like he was on the verge of death, like this was the last time he’d be able to breathe air.
“I didn’t steal anything!” he gasped. He lifted his head, and his wild eyes dug under Wind’s skin, a shade of blue as deep and as dark as that of the instrument in Wind’s hands. “I’ve had that thing for months. He gave it to me.”
Notes:
Sky: So I heard you were concerned about me, and I'd like to reassure you that--
Wind: THIEF. DEATH. BLOOD. THE INEVITABILITY OF TIME.hahaha thanks for all the lovely comments and the theories everyone!! you're gonna love the next chapter.
Chapter 6: New Sides
Chapter Text
Wind blinked. “You—he—what?”
“Time gave it to me,” Sky repeated. He took one last shaky breath before closing his eyes and wiping away all the panic from his expression. Then he straightened his back and held out a hand: demanding, uncompromising. “Hand it over.”
Wind almost did—that was how serious Sky sounded—but at the last moment, the situation registered and he snapped his hand back. “Wait,” he blurted. “The Vet—”
“The Veteran is going to be fine.” Sky ground his teeth. “Or at least, as fine as any of us are. I don’t know the future. Can you please—”
Wind shook his head. “But, but, but your diary—”
“I have nightmares,” Sky cut him off. “And also, that’s my personal journal. I keep that in a hidden pocket. What the hell.”
“You have dozens of drawings of him.” Wind clutched Time’s ocarina to his chest. “Dozens.”
“The nightmares have gotten worse since we portaled here,” Sky said, and the bags under his eyes suddenly seemed far more prominent. “It’s fine. It’s just a dream.”
“You, you only have one or two drawings of everyone else! And even then, you focus on the monsters! Why are you so fixated on his corpse? Why is it, why is it so detailed? Is it a vision?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?” Wind cried out. “You said it’s gotten worse since we arrived here! How do you—how do you know this isn’t part of the curse, huh? How can you be sure that we aren’t walking to his grave?!”
Sky closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. He tilted his head back and muttered something under his breath, something between a curse and a prayer, and he let out a tired, tired sigh.
“It’s not a vision,” he told Wind. “I know it’s not a vision. Because—” he sucked in a breath, and a deep pain creased his face. “Because it’s a memory.”
Wind’s stomach churned.
“Can I please have the ocarina back?” Sky begged. He reached out again, but Wind took a step back and clutched the instrument even tighter.
“I don’t get it,” he said, voice shaking.
“You don’t have to.” Sky slipped into a soothing tone. “The Veteran is fine. You don’t have to worry about it, so if you just hand that over—”
“Whatever happened to ‘it’s normal to be worried?’” Wind demanded.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“You just told me that you’ve seen the Vet’s corpse!” Wind shouted. “You think I can fucking hand this over and say, ‘sure am glad the vet’s alive right now! Let’s forget about the fact that Sky’s seen the Hero of Legend die!’ What the fuck is happening?!”
Sky’s eyes fixed upon the ocarina. His face was filled with indecision, swinging back and forth between an impossible choice. His hand drifted to his sword. For a moment, Wind was scared that Sky would actually fight him for it—if it came down to that, Wind knew that Sky would win. But in the end, Sky only slumped his shoulders.
“You’re not gonna let this go, are you,” he said, after a long pause.
And before Wind could give him a response, Sky opened his mouth and began to speak.
“It’s not time travel.”
Wind frowned. “What?”
“The ocarina,” Sky said. “It can’t actually—I mean, I guess it can. The kid wasn’t lying about that. You can use the ocarina to travel back in time. Three hours ago. Three days ago. Weeks, months, maybe even years if you have enough magic to fuel it. But you can’t rewrite the past. Nothing can.”
Wind bit his tongue.
“Time was the first one I met, when the portals started opening,” Sky said. “He showed up in my land. Helped me track down the black-blooded monsters. And then, when we cleared out the last of them, another portal opened. So naturally… we went through.
“When we stepped through the portal, we found ourselves in an unfamiliar kingdom. We weren’t sure what to do—we barely had a grasp on what was happening. But there was a big, important-looking temple, and a group of monsters patrolling the entrance. We went inside. We didn’t know what we were looking for, but the monsters had black blood, so we felt like it was the right direction. And when we were in there, we met someone: a young man with pink hair and a tempered sword.”
Wind sucked in a breath.
“He was… highly suspicious of us,” Sky admitted. “We didn’t say who we were; we didn’t know if we should. But we all could fight, so we decided to work together to clear the dungeon.
“I don’t really remember what went wrong. I think I stepped on a trap tile. Every statue in the room came to life and tried to kill us. But his reflexes were fast—he pulled me out of the way and took the hit for me.” Sky traced a line across his face, from the corner of his eye, across his lips, and down to his chin. “Battle axe.”
Wind shivered.
“Time and I tried to save him,” Sky said quietly. “We managed to get out of that chamber, but we got lost. We didn’t have a map. And there was a lot of blood, so we were mostly focused on that…”
Wind’s voice came out hoarse. “You didn’t make it out.”
“No,” Sky confessed. He crossed his arms and clutched at his sailcloth, a futile attempt at self-defense. “We fell through the ground and ended up on a lower level. He got knocked out during the fall. And we weren’t familiar with the enemies in his dungeon. It took more time than we had to figure out how to fight them. By the time we cleared the area, it was too late. He’d lost too much blood, and he’d stopped breathing.”
Wind had stopped breathing, himself.
“He saved me,” Sky whispered. “He saved me, and I didn’t even know his name.”
Wind swallowed. “But you fixed it, didn’t you?”
“He tried,” Sky said, staring at the ocarina. “Time pulled an ocarina out of his pocket, grabbed me by the arm, and played that song—and suddenly, we were back at the beginning. Stumbling out of a portal and into an unfamiliar kingdom.”
The ocarina burned in Wind’s grip.
“Everything was fine, that time around,” Sky said. “We fought the black-blooded monsters. We kept him alive. And then we learned that he was the Hero of Legend, and there was another portal, and we went through. Flawless.
“Time never offered an explanation, so I never asked,” Sky continued. “I didn’t want to know more than I already knew. And I admit, it was comforting to know that he had an escape route. That we had a last resort. He never used it again—at least, not that I knew of—so I just… pushed it all away and pretended it never happened. That was how it seemed, after all: it never happened. But then—” Sky swallowed. “Then we met you.”
“Me?” Wind asked, baffled. “What did—what did I do?”
“There was a hero before you, right?” Sky said. “A hero, dressed in a green tunic. A hero who freed the Sages and defeated Ganondorf. A hero who vanished, never to be seen again.”
Wind’s blood ran cold.
He’d never mentioned the green tunic before.
“You come from a different timeline,” Sky said. “A timeline he left. And he realized that, if your world existed… if your world carried on without him… then somewhere out there in the universe, there is a world where Legend is dead. We never saved him at all. We only saved ourselves.”
“No,” Wind whispered.
“So he swore,” Sky said, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “He swore he’d never use it again, and he made me swear that I wouldn’t, either. That we’d get everything right the first time around.”
“There’s no fucking way,” Wind said. “You’re—you’re joking, right? He didn’t, he, he, he wouldn’t—”
“Time asked me to take it. He didn’t trust himself to resist the temptation.”
“Shut up!” Wind cried out. “My Hero died! He died! He didn’t—he wouldn’t leave our kingdom, he, he, he tried to stay, he did his best, he didn’t leave.”
“Sailor.” Sky held out his hand. “Please give me the ocarina—”
“This is bullshit!” Wind screamed. “Time said! He said he wouldn’t run! You can’t be a hero if you run, you can’t—”
“Sailor!”
A distant voice pierced the night, and both Sky and Wind jumped at the sound. Heart pounding, Wind shoved the ocarina into his pocket, out of sight—right as Legend and Time burst into the clearing.
“We heard shouting,” Legend gasped, sword drawn. He looked around the clearing, scanning for threats. “Is everything okay?”
Sky held up his hands. “Yeah,” he said, his words coming out smooth even after everything he’d just confessed. “Yeah, we were just talking.”
Legend frowned and took in the scene. Sky, and Wind, and a tension so thick it could suffocate someone. “Talking,” he said, skeptical.
Wind swallowed.
“Are you done?” Baby Time asked, somehow untouched by the atmosphere. He tilted his head: so young, so fucking oblivious, and his wide blue eyes stared straight into Wind’s soul.
Against his will, Wind’s hand flew to his pocket. His fingers brushed the ocarina, and he swallowed.
“Sorry,” he stammered. He spun around on his heel, unable to stomach the sight of the Hero of Time. “I—I need to think.”
Legend took a step forward. “It’s getting late—”
“Don’t go too far, okay?” Sky said softly. He stepped in front of Legend and held out a hand, keeping him from following. “I’ll be on second watch if you want to talk.”
Wind didn’t reply. He ran.
Huffing and puffing, Link shakily pulled himself up the final rungs of the ladder. He collapsed on the floor—part fatigue, part drama—and he rolled over onto his back, gasping for air.
“Fucking hell,” he said, in between breaths. “How do you do this every day?”
Aryll snickered. “What kind of hero is worn out by climbing a ladder?”
Link wondered that himself, to be honest. He could run and fight and swing a sword all day long, but something about trying to race his little sister up to the lookout wore him out. He chalked it up to inexperience: pirate he may be, but Aryll had been climbing this tower since the day she learned how ladders worked.
“Here.” Aryll spread out a blanket and patted the space next to her. Then she pulled her knapsack off her back and took out two bowls and a thermos of their grandmother’s soup. “It’s lunchtime.”
Link sat up, instantly energized. “Oh, hell yeah!”
They devoured one round, and then two, and then they tossed a coin to decide who got the final serving. Link lost. He probably would have shared it with Aryll, anyway.
For the rest of the afternoon, they stayed in the lookout: spying on seagulls and cloud watching and playing card games until the sun hung low in the sky. At that point, they hung their legs over the edge of the tower and watched as the sun set over the ocean. The waves crashed against the shore, rhythmic and soothing, and the air cooled. A coastal breeze began to blow.
“So.” Aryll twisted her bracelet around her wrist. “How long are you gonna be gone this time?”
Link winced. “That obvious, huh?”
Aryll rolled her eyes. “When was the last time we did something like this?”
Two years ago. Two years ago, after Link stabbed Ganondorf through the head and before he and Tetra set out on their journey to rebuild a drowned kingdom.
“I don’t know how long it’ll take,” Link admitted. “I wish I did. Sorry.”
“Where are you headed?” Aryll asked. “Is it New Hyrule business?”
“No, this is—” Link frowned. “I, I dunno. Apparently, the monsters have been acting, um, weird. Someone said something about black blood?”
“Hm.” Aryll slumped over, resting her chin on her arms, and she kicked the wind, eyes downcast.
“Hey.” Link gave his sister a reassuring grin. “It’s just monsters. It won’t take long.”
Aryll didn’t reply, and Link didn’t push. Even then, they both knew that he was probably telling a lie.
“Sometimes it scares me,” Aryll whispered.
Link slung an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll kick those monsters’ asses,” he promised. “I’ll be back.”
Aryll shook her head. “Not that,” she said. “I know you’ll win. I know you’ll come home.”
Link frowned. “Then… what’s so scary?”
Aryll stretched an arm through the railing of the lookout. She opened her hand, letting the wind brush through her fingers. “There are days I feel too old to come up here,” she said. “What if that happens?”
“You’re never too old to come up here,” Link said fiercely. “What’s wrong with the lookout? It’s cool as hell.”
“It’s cool now,” Aryll shrugged. She dropped her hand and frowned at the ocean. “But people change. I’m scared you’ll come home, and we’ll be two different people entirely. I’m scared you’ll come home, and we’ll be strangers.”
“That won’t happen,” Link declared.
Aryll shot him a sharp look. “You can’t promise that,” she accused.
“I can,” he insisted. “Maybe we’ll change. Maybe one day, you’ll hate this place. Maybe one day, I’ll hate Grandma’s soup. But I’ll always be me, and you’ll always be you.”
Aryll pondered that for a moment. She pouted. “I don’t get it.”
“I think, it’s not so much that you change,” Link said. “I’m always learning something new about you. I’ll be learning new things about you for the rest of my life. You’re not a different person, you just… you find a new side to yourself.”
Aryll tilted her head. “Well, I hope you don’t get any ugly sides while you’re away.”
“I’m a hero.” Link grinned and ruffled her hair. “We don’t get any ugly sides.”
Aryll shrieked and swatted his hand away, giggling the whole while.
This was stupid. Really, really, stupid. Wind generally considered himself to be a decent liar, but for some reason, he just couldn’t today. He couldn’t talk to Time; he couldn’t look at Time. Legend used his eyes to drill a hole into the back of Wind’s head, and Sky kept glancing over at Wind throughout the day, and Baby Time, oh Goddess, kept bouncing up and trying to walk next to Wind, looking at him with those wide, oblivious eyes—
But Wind couldn’t look back.
How many times had the kid used that ocarina? How many times did the moon fall? How many timelines lay in his wake, dead and empty and forgotten?
Wind had never liked Time. It was embarrassing, because admittedly, half of his dislike could be boiled down to the authority issues. But there were other things, too. He didn’t like how perfectly heroic Time came across, how patronizing he could be. He thought Time’s old man puns were stupid, and also, Time absolutely played favorites no matter how hard everyone tried to deny it.
But Wind had always respected him. Time was an experienced adventurer and easily the most reliable member of their team. Wind trusted him with his life. He would have trusted Time to be there when he needed help.
Apparently, he shouldn’t have.
Wind’s head spun in circles, digging deeper and deeper, contemplating the questions he didn’t want to ask. How many tries did it take for Time to defeat Ganon? What went wrong in Wind’s world, that he decided to leave even after victory? How many attempts did it take for Time to get his picture-perfect ending? Did he ever think about the futures he gave up on?
Wind knew he should push this all aside to deal with later. They had a quest to worry about, and a curse to break, and also eleven-year-old Time was not the Time that Wind wanted to shake by the shoulders and demand answers from. He knew, in his head, that the kid was confused and scared, that he had no clue how his ocarina truly worked. But knowing something was not the same as feeling something, and the only thing Wind could feel was a great sense of ‘I don’t want to fucking look at him right now.’
So when Time tried to keep pace with Wind, Wind sped up. When Time tugged on his sleeve, Wind ignored him. When Time chucked pebbles at the back of Wind’s head, Wind ignored those, too.
Wild made meat and veggie skewers for lunch and added as much hydromelon as they could spare. Once the food was read, Wind got up to grab a stick for himself.
Before he could reach the food, a small child jumped in his way. Time glared up at him with as fierce a scowl as he could manage, and he held out a skewer, insistent.
Wind cleared his throat and looked away. “No, thanks,” he croaked, and he sidestepped out of the way and served himself. He did not look back.
Time finally got the hint, after that. He spent all of lunch sitting next to Twilight, nibbling on his skewers, and after a few minutes of morose brooding, he switched gears into ignoring Wind as aggressively as Wind was ignoring him.
(Wind did not feel horrible about this at all.)
When they got back to walking, Wind placed himself next to Four.
“Hey, you’re smart, right?” he asked.
“About twenty-five percent of the time, yes,” Four joked. He looked at Wind. “What’s up?”
“The curse,” Wind said lowly. “The one on Time. Do we know for sure that it’ll break once we fuck this temple up?”
Four frowned. He turned his eyes to the kid, and then back to Wind. “I mean. Probably.”
“So we don’t know for sure,” Wind said, irritated with the answer.
“It’s very likely it will break.”
“How do we increase those odds?”
“Why?” Four asked, both confused and concerned. “We’re doing everything we can. What else are we supposed to do? I know this whole thing is weird, and it’ll be nice to get Time back, but… you miss the old man that much?”
What Wind missed was the opportunity to be able to spit in Time’s face.
Four looked at Time again. “He’s ignoring you,” he observed.
“That—what does that have to do with anything?”
“Did you fight the kid?” Four accused.
Wind scowled. “Why are you making me out to be the bad guy?”
“Because he’s eleven, and you’re fourteen,” Four said, rolling his eyes. “Come on. We just have to put up with Tiny Time for another day or two at the most, right? Let it go.”
Wind’s blood boiled.
“You don’t—you don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he hissed.
Four’s eyes widened. He stiffened, sensing his misstep. “Sailor,” he said slowly, and he looked at Wind anew, scrutinizing every inch of Wind’s expression. “Are you okay—?”
“Never mind,” Wind spat. “Never mind, just. Forget it! Let’s just find this stupid temple and get this over with. Farore’s fucking balls.”
And despite Four’s apologetic protests, Wind stormed off and went to walk in his own lonely bubble, all by himself.
As they headed north, the forest grew ever denser. It almost looked like evening, with how little light there was breaking in through the canopy.
But despite the ever-thickening trees, the weather grew hotter and hotter. The air was painfully dry, leaving Wind’s lips chapped, and even in the shadiest areas of the forest, it felt like the sun was beating down on them. Like high noon in a desert. Like a funeral pyre.
They ran out of the last of their drinking water. During a break, Wild passed hydromelons around to keep them hydrated. It was enough to tide them over, but not enough to satisfy. They were intentionally being stingy: they were still following the creek upstream as best as they could, but with no map, they were essentially flying blind, with no clue where the temple was. Who knew how long it would take to get there.
While they were sitting, Four walked up to Wind.
“Sorry about accusing you, earlier,” he said. Awkward, hesitant: like he was tiptoeing around a sleeping bear.
“It’s whatever,” Wind muttered, not bothering to look at him.
Four frowned. “Are you—”
“I’m fine.”
The subject dropped. Wind sucked on the rind of his hydromelon slice, scraping what fruit he could off with his teeth.
That was when Time walked up to Legend.
“Can I see your ocarina?” the kid asked.
Wind stiffened. His hand subconsciously jerked toward his pocket, but he managed to abort the motion at the last second. Across their huddle of heroes, Sky stared at Wind, a million emotions flashing in his eyes.
Legend missed the byplay. He pulled out the instrument in question and held it out. Time took it into his hands and inspected it, turning it over and feeling the wood beneath his fingertips.
“I want to try something,” he announced.
Legend shrugged and waved his hand. “Go ahead.”
Time lifted it to his mouth and began to play.
Both Sky and Wind couldn’t help but flinch at the first note—but the song played was entirely different from the Song of Time. This song was rhythmic and light, with a melody that took up the whole range of the instrument. Time’s fingers flew across the ocarina with practiced ease, and when his song ended, he lowered it and looked up at the sky with hope.
Nothing happened. Frowning, he handed the ocarina back to Legend.
Twilight clapped his hands, polite, and Hyrule and Warriors joined in.
“I liked your song,” Legend said, putting his ocarina away.
“It didn’t work,” Time muttered. He looked to the sky again, just in case, but there wasn’t much to see through the forest cover. After a long moment, he sighed and gave up.
(The ocarina in Wind’s pocket felt so much heavier than it did earlier.)
It was late afternoon when Legend finally snapped.
“Where the fuck is this fucking temple,” he hissed, wiping sweat from his brow. “I feel like I’m walking through Din’s armpit, I swear to the Seven Sages. The water’s already salty—this heat is overkill! Why does this curse have to be so actively hostile.”
“Because it’s a curse,” Wild muttered. He swung his rusty sword and cleared another bush out of the way, blazing the trail.
“Did I ask for your sass?” Legend sniped.
“We sure as hell didn’t ask for yours.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Do you ever stop complaining?” Wild complained.
“I’ll stop when I’m dead,” Legend said flatly.
Wind stumbled.
“I’m sure we’re getting close,” Hyrule offered.
“Close?” Legend scoffed. “The only thing we’ve been getting close to is seeing the afterlife.”
Nobody else would have noticed, but Wind saw the way Sky flinched at the comment. Goddess, Legend spewed this kind of stuff every other day. Had Sky been holding his tongue the entire time?
“Vet, shut your fucking mouth,” Wind hissed. “Literally no one wants to hear your fatalistic bullshit.”
The whole crew fell silent.
“Um, okay,” Legend muttered, properly chastised. “Sorry.”
That killed the conversation for another fifteen minutes.
The forest grew harder and harder to navigate. Wild carefully picked his way through thorny bushes and overgrown plant life. They lost sight of the creek several times, but since the forest was so quiet, they could still hear the water trickling around. Still, it was difficult to find a path of least resistance: so thick was the forest.
Then, Wild swung his sword and cleared a bush. A branch fell. The moment it hit the ground, it burst into a white powder, and the surrounding plants crumbled into nothing. As the wall of plants fell away, light flooded in through the new opening, blinding them immediately.
Wind hissed, but he forced his eyes to adjust to the new lighting. Blinking away the tears, he squinted at the new terrain, taking it in.
There was no transition. The forest ended in a neat and abrupt line, and when they stepped out of the trees, Wind’s boots crunched upon coarse sand.
It was as if they had stepped into a stadium. Wind looked out at the new horizon: a perfectly circular expanse of white earth. The edges of the circle were bordered by trees, the same forest they had just walked through, but the land was arid and empty. The earth was pale and cracked and perfectly level. There were no trees or bushes. There weren’t even any weeds. It was a circle of dead earth, and at the center stood, as predicted, an abandoned temple.
Wind knelt down and picked up a scoop of sand. When he looked closer, he could make out its contents: salt crystals and bits of bone.
“Ah,” Twilight said, kicking his toe into the salt. “So that’s why they call it the Flats.”
They moved forward. No one was comfortable: it was too open, too vulnerable. No rocks to duck behind, no trees to climb. Not even sand to bury one’s shit in. Just a two-mile radius of packed earth and salt crust.
Yet what choice did they have, but to cross the Flats?
The late afternoon sun beat down upon them, merciless. Wind liked it better than the forest: at least this empty salt flat didn’t pretend to offer shade. But he still longed for a swig of water. The world around him swam and shimmered in the heat, which only served to remind him of his ever-worsening dehydration.
“Oh, no,” Warriors said.
“What?” Twilight asked.
Warriors pointed. In the distance, the salt shifted, and skeletal figures began to assemble themselves out of the dust.
Right on cue, a flock of birds burst from the treeline. Wind held his breath, but they never quite approached: instead, they circled above the salt flat, watching and waiting. Vultures.
Twilight rummaged through his bag and pulled out a boomerang. He held it out and looked at the kid. “You know how to use this, right?”
Time nodded and took the weapon.
Wind turned away and pulled his sword from its sheath. There were others who could look out for Time, so he didn’t have to think about him.
Four drew close to Wind, the Four Sword gleaming in the harsh sun. “Wanna team up—”
“I’m fine,” Wind cut him off. He twirled his sword around in his hand and glared at the approaching stalfos. “I can take care of myself.”
“Oh. Okay.”
The enemy arrived.
The stalfos were black-blooded, because of course they were, but for once, Wind was okay with it. He let his instincts take over, throwing his whole body into the battle. He swung his sword as hard as he could. Shouted louder than his throat could handle. Every impact rattled him down to the bone, and the world narrowed into nothing but him and the fight.
Slash, parry, dodge. Block this. Duck that. Take the opening, don’t let yourself get hit.
He kicked in a ribcage, fascinated with how the monster’s bones caved under his boots. Out of the corner of his eye, something moved. His sword moved faster than his brain: when he looked, he’d disarmed a stalfos and knocked its skull clean off its shoulders. Who needed to think, anyway? That was Wisdom’s job; all he needed was a sword and the courage to wield it. All he needed to do was win.
The fight began to slow. It was too soon. Wind took down another stalfos and looked around, restless to move, restless to fight. But the others had it in hand. Stalfos fell; bones were crushed. Wind itched, sweaty and incomplete, and his eyes darted across the scene, searching for another enemy.
A bird cry pierced the air.
Wind glanced over, and in the back of his brain, he was able to pick out a smattering of details. Blonde hair. Small figure. The blur of a bird swooping down from the sky.
His mind went blank.
Before he could think, Link lunged, sword drawn. The blade pierced the creature, sinking into its flesh. Screaming, Link grabbed Aryll and shoved her behind him. He flung the bird onto the ground, raised his sword over his head, and swung. Black ooze splattered onto him, but it barely registered—he had to save her, he had to kill it, die die die—
Sailor, calm down! What are you doing?!
It’s over! It’s over!
Wind, stop it!
“LINK!”
Wind whirled around, sword raised. His ears throbbed with his heartbeat, his lungs burned, and the world swam before his eyes.
Everyone stared at him, wide-eyed and dead silent. Wind blinked and lowered his sword. His hands were shaking.
“Hi,” he said. His voice came out rough and raw, and he cleared his throat. “Is, is, is, is the fight over?”
“The fight’s over,” Warriors answered. He held out his unarmed hands, and when he spoke, his voice was low and careful. “You good? Can you hear me?”
“Y-yeah,” Wind stammered. “Wh-wh-why wouldn’t I be able to, to hear you?”
“That’s good,” Warriors said. He swallowed. “You can let go of your sword, now.”
“Is, is it dead?”
Warriors nodded. “It’s dead,” he answered, and he pointed a finger. “The vulture is dead.”
Wind followed Warriors’ finger. A mangled mess of blood and feathers lay on the ground, leaving a black puddle on the white earth. Wind looked down at his sword hand.
“Oh, gross,” he mumbled. He tried wiping the blood off of his blade with his sleeve, but he ended up smearing it all over the place instead. “That’s… that’s a lot of blood…”
“We can clean it,” Warriors said. He exhaled and took a careful step forward. “Can you drop your sword?”
“Wait!”
Warriors froze mid-step.
“Where?” Wind asked, looking around wildly. His breathing came out quick and shallow, and the itching began anew. “Where’s—where’s the kid? Where’d he—”
“I’m here.”
Wind jumped. He turned around.
The kid blinked up at him. His whole frame was tense, and his eyes were glued to Wind’s face.
“Oh!” Wind said. He let go of his sword, and it fell to the ground. Gasping, he stepped forward and held the kid’s face in his hands.
“Um,” the kid said.
Wind’s bloodied thumb traced across the kid’s cheek. The action left behind a dark smear under the kid’s right eye: a marking just familiar enough to send him crashing back into reality.
“Oh,” Wind said. He let go of Time. “Uh, sorry.”
And then he vomited all over Time’s shirt.
Notes:
obviously i have been playing fast and loose with canon for the Drama™
Chapter Text
Wind woke up slowly.
His whole head spun around, rocking back and forth like he was on a ship. Which made no sense at all because he could feel fabric on his cheek and coarse sand under his hand. Eyes closed, he dug his fingers into the ground, feeling grains of sand wedge themselves under his fingernails. His sense of hearing came back in bits and pieces, working its way to join his sense of touch.
Some distance away, a group of people held a hushed conversation. Wind tried to make out the words, but he failed. He turned his attention to other senses.
After hearing came taste. His mouth tasted like absolute ass.
On second thought, maybe he should focus on his hearing.
… No. That's disgusting.
It's possible!
We're not that desperate.
I'm just saying, for the long term—
We found the temple already! You still have hydromelons. No need to jump to the worst-case scenario.
Heh. Never thought I'd see the day when you are suggesting optimism.
If you consider having sanitary standards optimistic, then shove a lamp up my ass and call me Sunshine—
“Okay, everyone, shut up,” Four said, his voice coming in clear even to Wind’s half-functional ears. “I can't take this anymore. This is not the conversation we need to be having. What are we going to do about the kid?”
A thick silence dropped over the crew, tangible with its tension.
“Obviously, we need to keep an eye on him,” Twilight said, after a pause.
“Right,” Hyrule said. “So… we bring him with us?”
“Absolutely not,” Warriors declared. “We’d be lucky if he can even hold a sword right now. There's no way we can take him dungeon crawling.”
“There are eight of us that can protect him,” Twilight said. “Well, seven, I guess. It's completely possible to watch out for him while we’re there.”
“I’d rather clear the dungeon and break the curse as quickly as possible,” Warriors argued. “We need water. He needs water. And also a full eight hours rest, sweet Hylia.”
“Yeah, who the hell keeps letting him take second watch?” Legend muttered.
Both Twilight and Warriors coughed.
“I… I don't think we should split up,” Hyrule murmured. “Look at this place—it’s wide open. Defensible space, this is not.”
“We killed all the stalfos,” Wild pointed out. “And… it’s not like the vultures can get him…”
Another pause.
“I suppose. But they were black-blooded, remember? They learn. What if they're waiting for us to split so they can pick us off?”
“If the overworld monsters were black-blooded, the ones in the dungeon are definitely going to be worse,” Legend countered.
“Safety in numbers,” Four argued.
“Safety in conflict avoidance, too,” Legend fired back.
It took Wind a while, but as the discussion continued, it began to dawn on him. The kid they were talking about wasn’t Time.
They were talking about him.
… Where was Time, anyway? Wind kept his eyes closed and shifted his position, preparing to open his eyes.
As he moved, his back brushed up against something warm. Wind held his breath and listened. Behind him, someone was breathing softly, sleeping against him back-to-back.
Ah.
“He’ll be mad if we take the dungeon without him,” Hyrule said.
“At least he’ll be safe!” Warriors argued.
“Splitting up is a horrid idea,” Four said. “I mean, look at this place. It’s cursed down to the dirt.”
“So throwing him into a dungeon after that is the way to go?” Wild snapped.
“We aren’t throwing him into a dungeon, we’re supervising him!” Twilight argued.
Legend scoffed. “‘Supervised dungeon crawling.’ Let’s just offer a full tour and merchandise while we’re at it, too—”
Someone slammed their hands onto their knees and stood up.
“We’re leaving him,” Sky said, speaking up for the first time. His voice was hard, leaving no room for argument.
Wind held his breath.
“Wind, and Time, too,” Sky continued. “We tell Wind to watch over the kid. It’ll give him something to do, and it’ll keep them both out of the way. I’ll stay with them, and the rest of you clear the dungeon and break the curse.”
The whole camp fell silent.
“Are you sure?” Twilight asked, after a solid three seconds. “You don't want someone else to stay with you? I could—”
“It’s fine.”
“How about I stay, instead?” Legend offered. “You have the Master Sword, it might come in handy in the dungeon—”
“You can call us if you need it,” Sky said. “We have the Pirate Charm, and the Champion has his slate.”
Warriors cleared his throat. “The Traveler’s right—it’s wide open up here. If you get attacked—”
“I can handle it.”
No one could argue with that.
“Besides.” Sky exhaled, and his voice softened. “I have things to take care of.”
Legend spoke up. “Does it have to do with what you two were talking about last night?”
“…Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” Four asked.
“It’s a personal thing,” Sky deflected. “I just need to have a conversation.”
Wind wondered if he should be offended by the implication that he couldn’t clear a dungeon. Or worried about what Sky wanted to talk about. But in the end, he was too numb to muster up an emotion about it, and he kept his eyes closed until he fell asleep again.
Wind woke up abruptly.
His eyes flew open and he sat straight up—an action he immediately regretted, because it sent him into vertigo hell. The world spun, his vision blacked out, and he nearly threw up again.
But then someone was by his side, rubbing soothing circles into his back and handing him a slice of hydromelon.
Wind took it blindly and shoved it into his mouth. The juice dribbled out and ran all over his hands, and he greedily sucked what liquid he could out of the fruit.
“Not too fast,” Sky said. “Breathe.”
Wind swallowed and took a deep breath. His whole body was sore, and his head ached. He finished off the hydromelon slice at a more reasonable pace.
“That’s better. How do you feel?”
“Like shit,” Wind said, throat scratchy. He looked around.
It was night. The crescent moon shone brightly in a cloudless sky, and the whole salt flat seemed to glow, reflecting the light. When he looked around, they were camped by a crumbled wall next to the temple. The Phantom Sword lay against the wall, polished to a shine. Baby Time was drawing something in the salt with a stick, but the others were nowhere to be seen.
“How long was I out?” Wind asked.
“Not too long,” Sky answered. “You should rest more; it’s only been three hours.”
“Three hours is a long time,” Time muttered from by the wall.
Sky did not say ‘shut up,’ but Wind could tell that he was thinking it.
“Is it just us?” Wind asked.
“Yeah. We’re here to, uh, watch the kid.”
Wind didn’t protest or question the white lie. It didn’t matter, anyway. Not anymore.
Ignoring Sky’s protests, Wind got to his feet. He stumbled over to Time and dropped himself onto the ground next to the kid. Time didn’t look up. Wind opened his mouth to say something, but then he realized that he had nothing to say.
As the seconds ticked on, Wind watched Time draw. The kid scratched out an image of a horrible, ugly face.
“What is that?” he wondered, scrunching up his nose in disgust.
“The moon.”
Wow, okay. Somehow, out of everything Wind managed to glean about Time’s little moon-crashing adventure, this was the worst detail.
Time did not offer anything else, so Wind did not ask. Sky chewed on his lip, and they all sat there in silence, listening to Time’s stick scrape across the salt.
Wind sighed. His whole body was sore, and he still felt dizzy. As if sensing his discomfort, Sky pulled a hydromelon out of his bag and started slicing it.
“Your name is Link,” Time said, breaking the quiet.
Both Wind and Sky jumped at that, but Time was only looking at Wind. He narrowed his eyes, daring Wind to deny it.
“Um, yeah,” Wind said. He rubbed his forehead, trying to chase his headache away and compose a response. “It’s, uh, it’s pretty common name? I knew a few growing up.”
Time was still frowning.
“What, you don’t know any other Links?” Wind asked. “That’s pretty lucky. I swear, everywhere I go, there’s, there’s nine of them.”
Sky snorted.
“I met a Goron named Link,” Time mumbled, turning away to stare at the ground again. “And I guess there were some in Castle Town, too…”
Wind leaned his head back, resting it against the brick. “My Grandma says it’s a strong name. A Hero’s name.” His voice came out more bitter than he intended it to.
All his life, he’d been proud to bear the Hero’s name. Turns out the Hero ditched his timeline and left it to drown under the ocean. He wanted to get angry again, but instead he just felt achy and exhausted.
“Here.” Sky handed out hydromelon slices. Time accepted his and took a bite, all without looking up. Wind munched on his, attempting to quench his thirst.
“Are you feeling better?” Sky asked Wind.
Wind considered the question. He licked his lips. “Tired,” he admitted. “But I guess, uh. I guess feel better than earlier?”
“That’s good,” Sky exhaled. “That’s good.”
Wind swallowed and looked down. Someone had taken the time to wipe the blood off of his hands, but there were still chunks wedged under his fingernails, and the edges of his sleeves were irreparably stained. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
Sky waved it off. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “We’re just glad you’re alright.”
Time used his stick to draw a particularly aggressive stroke into the salt.
Twisting his mouth, Sky tilted his head back and looked at the moon. Then he looked around, taking in the horizon at night, and he let out a heavy breath.
“I’ll be back,” he said, getting to his feet.
Wind blinked. “Huh?”
“I have business to take care of,” Sky said, shifting from foot to foot.
Wind rolled his eyes. “You can just say you’re taking a shit, you know.”
Sky waved and walked off, boots crunching against the sand. The sound grew ever fainter, and soon, it was just Wind and Time sitting against the wall by themselves.
The night air was warm, but not as hot as it was during the day. There was a soft breeze, and Wind leaned into it, letting the air brush over his skin.
“You were scary,” Time said. “And you threw up on my shirt.”
Wind winced. He picked at the blood under his nails. “Sorry.”
Time frowned and looked away. “Who’s Aryll?”
“My little sister,” Wind said. He closed his eyes, picturing the sunset on Outset Island. “She’s, um, she’s your age.”
“Oh.”
“She likes seagulls,” Wind continued, borderline rambling. “And she’s kind and thoughtful and braver than she should be. She likes spicy food, and she’s allergic to nuts, and she can beat me nine times out of ten when it comes to card games. She learned how to climb before she learned how to swim. She knows so much more than I do, and she can read really well. She’s… she’s a better person than I am.”
Time didn’t reply. He shuffled the dirt, wiping away the moon, and he began drawing anew. The sound of his stick scraping against the ground was rhythmic, soothing in its own way, and Wind slumped back against the wall even further. Slowly, he began to drift off.
“I looked in your bag while you were sleeping,” Time blurted out.
Wind jerked back awake and whipped his head around.
“M’sorry,” the kid mumbled. “You were the only one I hadn't searched.”
Wind swallowed. Nearly panicking, he brushed his pocket—the ocarina was still there, somehow. Time hadn't found it, and Sky hadn't taken it. Honestly, it was a miracle that he still had it with him.
“Can we go back to that one village after the temple?” Time asked. “Maybe it’s there?”
“I doubt it,” Wind muttered.
“Maybe it’s back in Edis City.” Time’s fingers twitched. “Or maybe I dropped it in the place where I got hit in the head.”
Wind closed his eyes. If only that were true.
“Will you help me find it?” Time begged. “We’re going back south after this temple, right?”
Wind's fingernails dig into his palms. “Why do you need it so fucking badly, anyway?” he asked, unable to hold back his aggressive tone.
Time blanched. “I told you!” he reminded Wind. “The moon fell!”
“Yeah, but—” Wind shook his head and forced himself to unclench his fists. He thought of Aryll, and of Tetra, and of a lost country, drowned beneath the sea. “What if it doesn't work?” he croaked out. “What if, what if it's not helping the way you think it's helping?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“I just—” Wind looked away and exhaled. “It’s dangerous to have that much power. Maybe you should be more careful about the futures you give up on.”
The world fell silent, and the night air was cold. Even with the extra hydromelon slices, Wind’s mouth felt unbearably dry.
“You know why I didn’t want to learn your names?” Time asked, after a long and tortuous pause.
Wind shivered, startled by the bitterness in the kid’s voice.
“I know everything about Clock Town,” Time said, voice quivering. “I know everyone. I know what they want and what they need and who they are. But they don’t know me. They never know me!”
He furiously rubbed at his eyes. “I thought it’d be easier if I didn’t know your name,” he choked out. “Because one day, I’ll have to meet you all over again! I’ll have to be a stranger! But it’s been days, and the Rancher is nice and Sky is cool and the Champion cooks really good food and we have the same name! I didn’t want to know that! How am I supposed to pretend that I don’t know you?”
Wind twisted around to face the kid and grabbed Time’s hands. They felt like ice. “Then don’t leave!” he said. “Stay!”
“I can’t,” Time cried, pulling away. “I don’t have a choice!”
“There’s always a choice!” Wind insisted, desperate for the kid to understand. “I’m sorry the moon fell. I’m sorry. But you’ll never get everything right. It’ll never be perfect. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is let it wash away. You have to live with your mistakes. You have, you have to sail on and build something new.”
“You think I don’t know that?!” Time shouted. “I can help. I can listen. But every three days, everyone dies! I never save anyone!” He was sobbing now, tears flowing faster than he could scrub them away. “But if I have my ocarina, I can still try! Could you live with yourself if you didn’t try?”
He blinked up at Wind, enraged and helpless and hopelessly lost, begging for direction he knew that no one would ever be able to give him.
Wind opened his mouth to—to protest, to apologize, to scream, he had no clue—but the words never came.
He choked on his own air, and his cheeks burned, ice cold. Shivering violently, he doubled over, gasping for breath, and every hair on his arm stood on end. The salt was coarse beneath his palms. It was so cold, why was it so cold—
“Sailor?” Time gasped. “Link?” He stumbled his way to his feet, placed himself in front of Wind, and grabbed Wind’s shoulders. “What’s going on? Are you okay?!”
All of a sudden, the cold receded. But the panic did not. Wind wheezed, air rushing in and out, in and out—and in the haze of his thoughts, the realization set in. Blood rushing, he pushed Time away and scrambled to his feet, looking around wildly.
A short distance away, the Phantom Sword twitched. It tipped over and landed onto the salt with a thud.
“Where is Sky?” he asked the air.
Something cold grabbed his hand and tugged.
Wind and Time sprinted across the salt. They twisted around the outside of the ruined temple, ignoring the main entrance and running alongside the walls. Sky’s footprints wound around: single-minded, purposeful. There was no sign of a struggle written in the dirt. As far as Wind could tell, Sky just got up and walked away.
Why the fuck did Wind let him go? What in the world would Sky deem important enough to make it worth leaving them unattended?
The whole while, cold air accompanied them. It pulled Wind along by the wrist, urging him to move faster.
At some point, more traces began to crop up. But they weren’t exactly comforting. Roughed up sand, stalfos bones, drops of black blood splattered onto the earth. Sky had cleaned the whole area of monsters, which made things easier on Wind and Time, but certainly spelled out something much worse for their wayward hero.
(Sky wanted to stay behind with them. Wind thought that he wanted to talk, that Sky wanted to take the ocarina back. But even when Wind was unconscious, he left the instrument hidden and untouched, and he never attempted conversation beyond checking in that Wind was alright.)
There was a garden behind the abandoned temple. It was surrounded by a wall twice as tall as Twilight, making it impossible to see in, but Wind could still tell it was a garden because of the unmistakable scent of mint lingering in the air. Wind and Time ran up and knocked on the wall. It was too sheer to climb and too solid to bomb through.
But the cold air pushed them along until they found a ruined section of wall crumbled enough to climb over. Someone had passed through before them, clearing away enough aggressive mint to make it passable.
Wind secured the strap of his sword sheath and swallowed. “Stay behind me, okay?” he ordered.
Time nodded, face solemn. He gripped Twilight’s boomerang hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
Fighting past his dizziness, Wind hauled himself up onto the crumbled section. He held out a hand and helped Time up, and together they jumped down into the garden. Somehow, despite this whole temple being abandoned, and despite mint being a fucking menace to gardens across time, the hedges were neat enough to contain a clear path. The garden was a maze.
“Can we climb the hedges?” Time asked. “Maybe we can travel over the maze. We can find him that way.”
“Good idea,” Wind said, teeth chattering. “But I, I don’t think we need it.”
He set off into the maze, Time on his heels. He did not hesitate at the forks. Instead, he followed the cold, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. As they walked, they passed by more monster corpses. There was a large amount. Wind knew that Sky was an excellent swordsman, but the idea that he cleared this entire maze on his own was a little alarming.
The cold tugged at Wind’s left hand, and he followed. He and Time turned a corner, and the hedges opened up into a circular clearing: the center of the maze.
In the middle of the clearing stood a stone statue: an intricate sculpture of a winged woman. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were raised to cover her mouth: Hylia, the Silent Goddess. But as impressive as it was, the statue was not the focal point of the clearing.
What caught Wind’s attention was the fact that her pedestal had been pushed back by a few feet, revealing a stone staircase descending into the underground.
“Dungeon?” Time asked.
“Dungeon,” Wind confirmed, eyes wide. How the fuck had Sky even known that this was here?
Shaking, Wind drew his sword. His grip was not as strong as he would’ve liked it to be, and his head certainly was not as clear as it should have been, but if Sky was in a dungeon by himself, then they couldn’t leave him alone.
After taking a fortifying breath, he began to descend.
Without having to be told, Time kept his steps light. Stone echoed, and every little noise was amplified tenfold, but Wind knew stealth and apparently Time did, too. Silently, they crept their way down the stairs and followed the proceeding corridor. There were torches on the walls, casting shadows on the smooth stone. Every flicker made Wind twitch, terrified that a monster would jump out at him and the kid, but the attack never came.
What did come was the telltale sound of swords clashing. Wind’s heart leaped into his throat, and he and Time picked up speed, sprinting toward the fight.
The corridor opened up into a large chamber. Thick pillars of stone rose up out of the tiled floor, holding the ceiling high above them. In the center of the ceiling was a large hole, letting moonlight shine through to the underground.
Sky was in the middle of the chamber, Master Sword drawn and gleaming in the night. There were three skeleton warriors fighting him, all at least twice his height, but he danced around them with an almost easy grace. He dodged a strike, kicked out an ankle, and stabbed his sword directly into the monster’s eye socket. The bones crumbled to the ground, and without missing a beat, he pulled a bomb out of his bag, dropped it on the bones, and stepped out of its range. It exploded, obliterating the monster. Two skeleton warriors.
“Sky!” Time gasped. He gripped his boomerang and took a step forward.
But a sudden cold overtook Wind, and he grabbed Time by the shirt.
“Hey! What are you—”
“Shh!”
Wind pulled Time behind one of the pillars, out of sight. Time tried to kick him, but Wind shook his head and held the kid tight, overcome with the need to hide.
Honestly, Sky didn’t need much help. A clever feint, a well-placed jab, and a quick bomb brought down the second monster. A perfectly timed parry, a two-handed strike, and another detonation brought down the third. Dust and salt flew through the air, and the chaos settled into a tense quiet. But in the midst of the bones, Sky did not lower his guard. He straightened up, heaving air in and out of his lungs, but his eyes darted around the chamber, searching.
“I’m here,” he called out, between breaths. His voice reverberated across the room. His shoulders were drawn up tight, and he gripped the Master Sword like it was the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. He swiveled around, searching for something, and Wind and Time ducked out of his view.
“I got your message.” Sky pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket and tossed it onto the ground. He raised his chin, defiant, and he spoke aloud to the room at large. “I followed your map. I came, and I came alone.”
Wind didn’t dare to breathe.
Sky’s voice tipped one degree closer to hysteria. “I know you’re here!” he shouted, voice cracking. “Are you here? Is it really you? What do you want from me?!”
His words echoed around the chamber. It took a few seconds for the noise to settle, but when it did, the silence was so empty that it seemed to roar, ringing in Wind’s ears.
Someone laughed.
The sound shot Wind right through the chest, and both Wind and Time stiffened in recognition. It took everything in Wind to not cry out. But his reaction was nothing compared to Sky’s.
Sky flinched, violent, and his desperate expression crumbled into aghast terror. Shaking, he lowered his sword and turned to face the laughter, hesitant and hopeful and horrified all at once.
A figure stepped out from behind a pillar, still laughing. He lifted his head and smiled, humorless and bitter and cruel.
A young man with pink hair, and a scar running across his face: from the corner of his eye, across his lips, and down to his chin.
“Hey there, ‘hero,’ ” Legend sneered, casually twirling a knife around in his hand. “Long time, no see.”
Notes:
lmfao
Chapter 8: Mirror
Notes:
so the vacation I went on last week was planned LONG before I started writing this fic. but you have to admit, the timing was absolutely divine
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Wind had half a second to process— is that Dead-fucking-Legend from another-fucking-timeline— before Legend raised his knife and lunged.
Sky’s sword moved to block, instinct over thought. He stumbled. Legend didn’t hesitate. He pounced and knocked Sky to the ground. Sky rolled, Legend’s knife narrowly missing his ears, and the Chosen Hero scrambled to regain both his stance and his composure.
“What are you doing?” he gasped.
Legend jerked his head up, snarling. “I should think that would be obvious.”
“But why?!”
“I should think that would be obvious, too!” He lunged again.
Sky rolled out of the way of another swing. He scrambled to his feet. “How are you even here?”
Legend’s wild eyes blazed. “Could ask you the same question!” he shouted, and he lunged again.
Sky parried. The clang of metal on metal echoed across the chamber. Legend didn’t slow for a second, but Sky’s defense was just as determined. He blocked each strike, keeping Legend in front of him.
Wind chewed on the inside of his mouth, watching the fight with rapt attention. Sky’s precise blade work against Legend’s unhinged attacks made for a mesmerizing and terrible sight. It looked so wrong. He couldn’t look away.
“Why’s the Vet attacking him?” Time asked, distraught.
Wind winced and bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Where would he even begin?
Ahead of them, Legend slashed at Sky’s shoulder—a mistake. He overextended and stumbled with the force of his own attack. Sky stepped back, balanced on the balls of his feet, and ignored the opening.
“Fight back, damn it!” Legend roared.
“Would that make you feel better?” Sky fired back: half-sarcastic, half-genuine.
Legend clenched his blade. “Miss me with that feelings shit.”
“You said you wanted to talk!”
“And you fell for it?”
“Ugh!”
Breathing hard, Sky switched his stance and moved. Legend gasped. He brought up his knife—not quickly enough. Sky’s blade hit his just so, forcing Legend’s right wrist to bend at an unnatural angle. He dropped the blade. Before he could even try to retrieve it, Sky stepped into his guard and kicked it away. The knife skidded across the floor and scraped to a stop: right in front of the pillar Wind and Time were hiding behind.
Shit, Wind thought.
“Yield,” Sky demanded. His sword was trained on Legend, and his chest heaved with exertion.
“Damn, you’re good,” Legend said, shaking out his wrist. He smirked. “Makes you think—if you’re so skilled, why did you leave me to die?”
Sky choked, and his blade wavered.
Legend exploited his hesitation and ducked away. The tip of Sky’s sword cut a thin line in his tunic, but he ignored it and sprinted for the knife, coming closer and closer and closer—
Shitshitshit, Wind thought.
Cursing, he shoved the Phantom Sword into its sheath and dashed out from behind the pillar. He scooped the knife into his hand and held it out. He had no clue how to use it, but he hoped that wasn’t obvious.
Legend stumbled to a stop and blinked. “What the fuck?”
“Watch your fucking language,” Wind wheezed. He straightened his back and clenched the hilt of the knife, trying not to trip over his shaky legs.
“What are you doing here?!” Sky yelled, eyes blown wide.
“Right back at you, dumbass!” He couldn’t filter out the panic, and his voice cracked. “Weren’t you supposed to babysit us?!”
“‘Us?’” Legend asked. He took a step to peer behind the pillar. “Oh. It’s you.”
Time stuck out his tongue.
“Run!” Sky ordered. “Get out of here!”
“And leave you behind?” Wind shouted.
“Yes!”
“What the fuck is wrong with— ahh!”
Legend tackled him. Wind landed on his back, knocking his head on the hilt of the Phantom Sword. Head spinning, he tried to push Legend off, but he’d already lost. In the span of a heartbeat, Legend took control of the knife and pinned him to the ground.
“Stay away from him!” Sky roared.
Legend fixed his eyes on Wind’s face and raised the knife. The whole sight was horribly, horribly wrong. “You couldn’t save me. But let’s see if you’re fast enough to save him—”
A boomerang slammed into his jaw.
Not one to waste an opportunity, Wind shoved him off and scrambled away. He drew his sword and leaned into the adrenaline, pushing the pain away.
Before Legend could give chase, Sky descended upon him like a hurricane. His sword flashed in what little moonlight they had, and Legend was forced onto the defensive. But Sky’s strikes were meant to distract, rather than win. And even beyond pulling his punches—every blow came weaker than the last. His face was red, and sweat dripped down his brow.
In his head, Wind counted up the number of monster corpses that they passed on the way in. His stomach dropped.
“Go!” Sky shouted. “I’ll be fine, just— ah!”
He stepped on his foot wrong. It wasn’t enough to make him fall, but it gave Legend enough of an opening to go for the face. Sky just barely raised his arm in time. Legend’s knife sliced through his sleeve. Sky hissed and retreated a few steps.
“Pity,” Legend said. He flicked his knife, letting a few drops of Sky’s blood splatter onto the floor. “I was hoping we could match.”
Sky opened and closed his hand, wincing as his wound stretched. But he quickly adjusted to the pain and slipped back into a defensive stance.
“I’m sorry,” he said, meeting Legend’s cruel glare.
“Shut up.” Legend lunged for Sky once more.
The sounds of their blades clashing stabbed into Wind’s eardrums, and Sky was holding back. Even as his lungs labored. Even as his grip weakened. His movements were calculated: the exact amount of aggression he needed to keep Legend focused on him.
But Legend was fighting to kill.
They moved too wildly and too quickly for Wind to get an opening. All he could do was stand and watch, sword in his useless hands, praying for—what? For Sky to win? What would that even mean?
Would there be a victory in bringing this Legend to his knees?
Sky parried another blow. Legend faltered, but again, Sky did not take the opening.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, eyes never leaving Legend’s face.
Legend regained his balance. He breathed. “Are you?”
“Of course.”
The answer only enraged Legend more. He roared and swung his knife overhead. Sky caught the blade on his crossguard and pushed, forcing a standstill.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked out. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you.”
That seemed to strike a chord. Legend disengaged and backed up, breathing hard.
Encouraged, Sky lowered his sword. “It haunts me,” he confessed, weighted with months of guilt. “You didn’t even know me, and you saved my life. You have every right to hate me. I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough. I’m sorry you took the hit meant for me.”
“‘Sorry that you didn’t save me,’” Legend exhaled, expression unreadable.
“Yes!” Sky gasped, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. You never should’ve gotten hurt. I should’ve been paying more attention. I should’ve been faster. I should’ve—”
“You’re a fool.” Legend’s eyes were stonier than anything Wind had ever seen. “Do you know how long it took me to crawl out of there? Even I don’t know.”
Sky blanched.
“I barely had any energy left,” Legend informed him. “All these magic rings and rods, and no magic to power them. And we fell through a hole. I had to clear four more rooms to find a staircase that led back up. Four more rooms, with creatures that bled black, with a broken sword arm and a crushed foot and a weapon I didn’t have time to sharpen.”
No one dared to breathe.
“My ribs were shattered,” Legend said. “I didn’t even have the luxury of breathing without pain. I smashed every pot I could find on the way up, and all that silent bitch would give me was enough potion to keep infection away. So reliable, she is. I walked out of hell alone.”
Ice trickled down Wind’s spine.
“And the whole time, there was this song stuck in my head!” Legend continued. “Looping, over and over! I tried it out, you know. I’m pretty quick when it comes to music. But I guess my ocarina wasn’t as good as his.”
He raised his chin. “I forgive you for not saving me,” Legend said, spreading his hands. “I knew the consequences. I chose to take the hit. I would’ve chosen it: for you, or for the other guy, or for anyone else.”
Sky swallowed.
“What I can’t forgive,” Legend snarled, “is the fact that you left.”
And he stepped forward and stabbed Sky in the gut.
“No!” Time screamed.
Sky doubled over, clutching his stomach with one hand. A dark stain began to spread across the front of his tunic. Legend laughed as he kicked him in the face, sending Sky sprawling across the cold ground.
Time shifted his weight, preparing to run—but before he could get anywhere, Wind caught him by the back of his shirt and held him fast.
“What are you doing?!” The kid whirled on him and flailed his arms, attempting to shake him off, but Wind only held on tighter. “Sky’s hurt! We have to—”
“Kid,” Wind said, eyes fixed on Legend. “Listen to me.”
“He’s hurt!” Time cried. “He’s hurt, we have to help, we have to—”
“Listen,” Wind said, taking the time to enunciate his words. “I need you to grab Sky and bring him over here.” Very deliberately, he took his sword and scratched two lines into the floor. The scraping of metal on stone made his hair stand on end, but he powered through, ensuring that the mark was as clear as possible. “See this? ‘X’ marks the spot. Bring him here, okay?”
“What are you—”
“Do you understand?”
The kid swallowed. He nodded.
“Good.”
Wind took a deep breath, trying to clear away as much of his lingering headache as he could. Then he lifted his sword.
“Hey, asshole!” he yelled.
Legend turned around, only to be met with five feet and two inches of screaming pirate fury.
Legend stumbled under the force of his onslaught. Wind pressed his advantage, forcing Legend away from Sky. Behind him, he could hear Time’s frantic footsteps, running to Sky and helping him get to his feet and stumble across the stone.
It only took a split second for Legend to regain his cool. After dodging Wind’s hectic slashes, he finally managed to fix his grip on his knife and face Wind on more equal terms. He ducked one swing, rolled under a second, and dodged the third—and then they were off.
Even with the longer reach of a sword, Wind could not get the upper hand. His vision kept blurring in and out, and already, he could feel himself starting to tire. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck. His skin burned, feverish, and every inch of his body ached with fatigue.
Legend seemed patient enough to wait it out. He avoided most of Wind’s attacks, staying light on his feet and forcing Wind to move at his pace.
“So angry,” he huffed, dancing out of Wind’s reach.
“Fuck you!” Wind swung his sword again, aiming for Legend’s open left, but Legend only stepped around the attack.
“Is this revenge?” Legend asked him, snickering. “Are you defending his honor?”
Wind growled.
Infuriatingly, Legend parried the next strike. The impact sang, ringing in Wind’s ears like silence—and Legend took another step back, luring him in.
“You of all people should know there’s nothing to defend,” he said.
“You don’t fucking know me!”
“Don’t I?” Legend asked. He twirled his knife around and grinned without warmth: wrong, wrong, wrong.
“Shut up,” Wind hissed. “I never met you. We’re strangers.”
“Oh, come on.” Legend laughed. “We’re both heroes, aren’t we?”
“Heroes don’t hurt their own!”
“Heroes don’t abandon them, either.”
The words punched Wind in the gut, and he faltered. His palms ached, and he had to consciously loosen his grip on his sword.
Shut up, he wanted to say, but the words would not form in his mouth. Truth stung.
“See?” Legend stared Wind down with a knowing glint in his eye. “Guess we understand each other after all.”
He let the words hang in the air, after that. Let them sink into Wind’s itchy skin, let them simmer in his traitorous brain—
Somewhere behind Legend, Sky let out a pained groan.
Wind forced himself to breathe. He shoved the hurt and the anger aside for later. Then he readied himself.
Up ahead, Legend grinned in anticipation. Wind ran forward, sword raised—
But rather than fight, he dropped into a roll and slipped past him. Panting, Wind popped to his feet and sprinted to where Sky was slumped over on a Time who could barely support him.
“Sorry, Sky,” Wind muttered, maneuvering around so that most of Sky’s weight was resting on his shoulders. He hooked a hand on the edge of Time’s shirt collar, making sure they were all linked together. “Just—hold on a little longer, okay?”
Something cold tugged on him. Wind nodded, ready to go.
Legend’s eyes widened. “Wait—”
But it was too late. With his free hand, Wind took the Phantom Sword and carved two quick strokes into the ground, completing the hourglass.
And then they ran.
Seven seconds headstart wasn’t much, but it wasn’t nothing, either. With their ghost leading the way, Wind and Time dragged Sky deeper into the dungeon. It was helpful that he could still move his legs, but his head lolled about and his wound left a bloody trail.
Their ghost had it in hand. Its icy grip led Wind around a corner, down a short ramp, and into a shadowed room. The air was moist and salty, and the whisper of running water tickled his senses. A shallow channel branched off into circular tunnels.
Wind waded in, hoping that both the water and the darkness would obscure their trail.
The waterways were just as twisty as the maze above. Wind followed the cold as best as he could: left, right, left, and left again. They stepped through tunnels and ducked under increasingly tight arches, Time worrying away at his lower lip and Sky doing his best to stay upright. Seven seconds had come and gone, but their ghost’s plan worked. Wind did not hear anyone chasing after them.
Sky held on for an impressive amount of time. It wasn’t until they passed through a doorway, far from the main chamber, that his strength finally gave out. His knees buckled, and he tumbled to the dry floor, bringing down both Wind and Time with his weight.
The door slid shut behind them, but that was the least of their worries.
“Sky!” Time cried. He twisted around so he could look at him properly. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m—” he coughed, wet and bloody, and failed to finish his sentence.
“Fucking liar,” Wind croaked. He tore off a strip of his shirt and pressed it against Sky’s stomach. “You have, uh, you have your bag, right? Link, there should be a potion in his bag.”
Time took Sky’s bag and turned it upside-down, dumping everything out on the floor. He combed through the items and grabbed a bottle. “Here!”
Wind pulled the cork out with his teeth. He held the bottle up to Sky’s mouth.
Sky took it without protest, contorting his face as the bitter hit the back of his throat. Wincing, he swallowed it down. Wind waited.
Nothing happened.
“It’s not healing,” Time said, voice rising in pitch. “Sailor, why isn’t it healing? Why isn’t it healing?!”
“Go smash a pot,” Wind ordered, biting his panic down. “Maybe there’s, um, there should be something down here?”
Time ran off, exploring the corners of the room. In the back of his senses, Wind heard the sound of breaking ceramic, but most of his attention was on Sky.
“Sky, you—you have more potions?” Ice spread across his hands, but he ignored it and rummaged through the items spilled on the ground. “Don’t you carry backups? Maybe it wasn’t—we just need a little more, we just—”
“Cursed,” Sky breathed out. His eyes were glassy. “This land… is cursed…”
Water that couldn’t hydrate. Curses that couldn’t fade. Potions that couldn’t heal.
“This is bullshit!” Wind raised his chin and glared at the air. “Is that even—that’s not true, right? You brought us to this room for a reason, right?!”
Deeper in the room, something fell off a shelf. A book tumbled to the ground.
“We don’t have time for your fucking mystery!” Wind cried. “Sky is—he needs help! Now!”
The book twitched.
“Fuck you!” Barely able to breathe, Wind left Sky’s side and sprinted over, tripping over a metal chain. He picked up the book and flipped through the pages—maybe there was a healing spell, or a map to a fairy fountain, or something.
But there was nothing as useful as that. Instead, it contained a list. A list of names, and dates, and crimes.
Wind’s brain struggled to take in the letters. “Why would you—I don’t— why?”
Time ran back over. He leapt over a wooden block and dashed past a dirty mirror, and he nearly tripped over the same chain that Wind had. “I found another potion,” he gasped. “Half-bottle—”
“Save it,” Sky said.
Wind whipped his head around. “What? No!”
“It won’t work,” Sky said, staring blankly at the ceiling. “I didn’t feel the potion. I didn’t feel a thing.”
“But—”
“The curse,” Sky repeated. “We can’t do anything until the curse is broken.”
“We don’t have the time to break the curse!”
“Then we make time.” The haze in Sky’s eyes cleared, and his gaze slid over to Wind’s pocket.
Wind’s heart skipped a beat.
“You know the song, right?” Sky asked.
“No.” Wind violently shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving you. What kind of fucking bullshit—”
“We need to break the curse,” Sky insisted, voice scratchy. “You can figure it out, right? Your ghost—”
“Fuck the fucking ghost!” Wind yelled. “We need to heal you!”
“You can do both.”
“It’s not both for you!” Wind cried. “You swore! You swore you wouldn’t!”
“You didn’t.” Sky reached out a weak hand. “It’s okay. I give you my consent.”
“This isn’t fucking cannibalism!” Wind shouted. “I’m not doing it! I won’t leave!”
“What are you talking about?”
Wind’s blood ran cold. He turned to look at the kid: the kid, whose eyes were so wide they looked ready to pop out of his skull, the kid, who still had no clue what was going on.
Neither Wind nor Sky attempted to answer his question.
“Why are you talking about time?” he asked. “And songs?”
Wind’s hands hurt. When he looked down, his fingernails dug into his palms hard enough to draw blood.
“Back there,” Time said. His fingers twitched. “He said—didn’t the Vet say something about an ocarina?”
“It’s in the Sailor’s pocket,” Sky blurted out.
Wind flinched as Time’s gaze swiveled over.
“You have it?” he asked, voice small.
“I—” Wind faltered: unable to confess, but unable to lie, either.
Time didn’t even look angry. Wind would rather him look angry. Anything, but that look of betrayal.
“You have it?” Time asked. “But—you said you’d help me find it! You said!”
“Kid, I—”
“Don’t ‘kid’ me!” Time cried. “Why didn’t you give it back? Why did you lie?!”
The truth in Time’s accusation stung. But any guilt that Wind might have felt was overruled. All of a sudden, the anger he had shoved aside reared its ugly head, and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore.
“Because you’re a coward!” Wind yelled. “You don’t even know what this does! You don’t have a fucking clue!”
He yanked the ocarina out of his pocket and held it out, his burning skin stretching painfully over his knuckles.
“You know who that was back there?” Wind snarled. “Once upon a time, you failed to be a hero! You left someone to die! And now he wants revenge! This is your fault!”
“Wind!” Sky hissed.
“Fuck off!” Wind snapped. “If he wants to use this thing, then he can deal with the consequences, too!”
The blood drained out of Time’s face. “Consequences?”
“Yeah, consequences,” Wind spat. “Every single time you play that fucking song, you know what happens? You split a timeline! There’s a world where the moon fell! There’s a world where you left Legend to die! There’s—” Wind stuttered. “There’s a world where Hyrule flooded because the Hero abandoned it. I didn’t, I didn’t want to clean up your mess! I didn’t want to be a hero, but I had to be! And—”
Wind scrubbed his burning eyes. “Fuck, you’re not even who I’m supposed to be yelling at! You think you’re fucking eleven, and you don’t remember shit! This dumb baby curse sucks ass! I can’t, this—this isn’t— fuck!”
He stood up, took Time’s ocarina, and chucked it across the room. It slammed into the wall next to the mirror and clattered to the ground: pristine, untouched. Flawless, like the future it promised.
Wind dropped to the ground, hid his face in his hands, and sobbed. None of them had the power to change the past. It already happened—years, decades, centuries ago—but even so, he couldn’t help but beg.
“When you fight Ganondorf,” he said between shaky breaths, “make sure you get everything right the first time.”
The anger drained away with his tears. His breath hitched, and he screwed his eyes shut, ashamed to have spoken.
“I… already did that?”
Wind looked up.
“I fought him already,” Time said, flinching at whatever expression Wind had on his face. “He’s gone.”
“But you—that doesn’t make any—” Wind swallowed. Every bedtime story he’d heard growing up flashed through his head. A young man, dressed in green. A brave teen, with a legendary sword. “You’re eleven.”
“I was ten,” Time said. “Or seventeen. I dunno. I slept for seven years, and then I fought Ganondorf, and then I went home.”
“You went home,” Wind said, eyes wide. He tried to wrap his head around the concept, but he could barely process it. Bitter crept up his throat. “You were ten. You were ten, and you wanted to go home. Oh, goddess—”
Somebody kicked at broken pottery. “Not that I’m not having the time of my life listening to this bullshit, but is he dead yet?”
Wind yelped and whipped his head around.
Legend stepped out of the shadows. He stepped forward, confident in his victory. Considering the fact that Sky was bleeding out, Wind could barely see, and Time was four-foot-nine and eleven years old, Wind could not blame him for his arrogance.
The cold on Wind’s skin could have been the ghost, or it could have been his own horror.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” Wind yelled, cracking with hysteria. He turned to look at the door they had entered through: still locked, still barred.
Legend ignored the question. He walked over to the discarded ocarina, bent over, and picked it up. Grinning, he tossed the instrument up and down, following its arc with his eyes. “Mind if I take this?” he drawled.
A keening noise escaped the back of Time’s throat.
Wind rose to his feet and drew his sword. “Don’t you dare!”
“You’re the one that tossed it aside,” Legend fired back. He slipped it into his right pocket, and a cruel grin stretched across his lips.
“Don’t—” Sky coughed. He tried to push himself into a sitting position. “Don’t do this. Please.”
Legend rolled his eyes and pulled his knife out. “Whatever. Like I care what you want.”
Wind tightened his grip on his sword. “You fucking bastard,” he snarled, and he took a step—
“Wait.”
Something caught Wind’s sleeve. He looked down. Time was standing next to him.
“What?”
“You said I’m cursed, right?” Time asked.
Wind had no clue what that had to do with anything, but he nodded.
“I think—I think I know what to do,” Time said, staring down Legend. Then he shook his head. “No, I know what to do.”
“What is it?”
“I have to get my ocarina.”
Wind nearly dropped his sword. “Are you fucking kidding me—”
Legend lunged.
Time, swordless, dove out of the way. But Wind was the only thing standing between Legend and Sky, so he raised his blade instead. The impact nearly knocked him over, but he held his ground, boots skidding against the stone.
“I know what to do!” Time yelled.
“If you think you can use that stupid song—!” Wind swung his sword. Legend parried the blow and hopped out of the way.
“I’m not gonna—I know what I’m doing! Trust me!”
“Should I?!” Wind snapped.
“Hey.” Legend flipped his knife in his hands and reversed his grip. “Quit yapping! You’re fighting me!” He leapt forward and attacked.
If Wind was running on fumes and adrenaline before, he was running on less than nothing, now. His sword felt like lead in his hands. Every one of Wind’s blocks was too unbalanced. Too slow. He panted, attempting to fill his lungs, but all he could feel was how dry his tongue was in his mouth.
Legend scored a hit on his side. Wind hissed and hunched over, instinctively covering the wound. Mistake. When he looked up, Legend held his knife high above —wrong, wrong—
Something slammed into Legend’s arm. Cursing, he pulled back and cradled the limb.
Twilight’s boomerang flew back into Time’s outstretched hand. His eyes seemed to glow: eerie and ruthless on a child’s face.
“This is why I told you to come alone,” Legend whined, flicking a quick glare over at Sky.
Sky’s hand twitched, lifting a weak but heartfelt middle finger.
Time shouted and threw his boomerang again. Legend batted it out of the way, but Time was already running toward him. He scooped up a handful of broken pottery and flung it in Legend’s face. Then, as Legend blinked shrapnel out of his eyes, Time jumped him, kicking and screaming.
Legend let out a string of curses. Time reached for his pocket, but the movement left him open. Legend kicked Time in the chest, and the kid went flying with the force of the impact, slamming onto the ground.
“Hey!” Wind cried.
“M’fine,” Time wheezed. “My ocarina—!”
“Ugh!”
Wind grunted and went to attack Legend again. But Legend wasn’t messing around anymore. He stepped into Wind’s guard, caught his sword hand, and twisted. The Phantom Sword flew out of Wind’s grip.
“Get out of my way, kid,” Legend said, pushing him aside. “I’m here for that dying loser.”
“Over my dead body,” Wind hissed. He pounced and latched onto Legend’s leg, and they tumbled down.
“I died for him, once,” Legend snarled. He peeled his face off the ground. “It’s really not worth it!” He used his free leg to slam a boot into Wind’s cheek. Pain blossomed across Wind’s face, but he held on tight.
“Fuck you!” he snarled. Abandoning all thought, he kicked and bit and scratched, blindly wrestling Legend across the stone. He just had to keep him away from Sky, away from Sky—
Something slammed into his head, and for a second, his vision went white. The next thing he knew, he was pinned to the ground.
Sky cried out, but his voice was weak. Time yelled, but the sound was distant. Wind’s whole head throbbed, hot and dizzy and barely together. He thought he might be crying.
Legend stared him down: foreign and familiar and wrong.
He wished his Legend was here. Or Warriors. Or Twilight, or Four, or Wild, or Hyrule, or anyone.
He wished Time was here.
“You know,” Legend said, breathing hard. “I respect a Hero who isn’t all talk.” He stared Wind down with wide, bloodthirsty eyes, red with both rage and exertion. “At least you’re honest.”
“Honest?” Wind grit out. “I’m a pirate.”
In one, final, desperate move, he slipped a hand into Legend’s right pocket. He pulled out the ocarina and blindly flung it into the distance. Then he closed his eyes and waited for Time to determine his fate: death, or abandonment, or whatever he had in mind.
A song began to play.
A sudden melancholy flooded Wind’s bones, and his breath stilled. The rhythm slowed, then picked up, then slowed again: a melody with a minor bent, a feeling between hope and mourning. Unbidden, tears ran down Wind’s burning cheeks, cutting salty traces through the grime on his skin—
And then the screaming started.
Wind’s eyes flew open. Even Legend flinched as Time began to scream himself raw. His voice tore its way out of his throat, and when Wind turned to look, the kid had dropped to the ground, writhing like a worm in salt.
“Link!” Wind shouted, horrified.
The kid did not respond. His sobs came out in pained gasps, and he twisted like he was on fire. Dark magic crumbled off his skin like grains of sand, and he clawed at his face with a desperation that was painful to witness.
Just when Wind thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the screaming ceased. Something wooden clattered to the ground, and the figure in the corner retched, gagging on air.
“Wh—what the hell was that?” Wind gasped.
Time lifted his head. There were familiar markings on his aged face, branded onto his skin. He leveled his single eye at Legend: focused, furious.
“That,” he said, in a deep voice that Wind hadn’t heard for a week, “was the Song of Healing.”
Notes:
i'm sorry about the cannibalism callback, but genuinely i could've gotten a LOT worse with the jokes I cracked during this chapter
hey aren't the mask transformations in MM fucked up. who decided to animate that
Chapter 9: Hero
Notes:
okay, in my defense, this chapter was a lot funnier in the outlinealso -- i know there are people who saw this coming. 😎😎😎
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Before Legend could react, Time picked up the Phantom Sword and shot Wind a sharp look.
“Take care of Sky,” he said. “I got this.”
Without hesitation, Wind shoved Legend off of him and scrambled away, happy to let Time handle the fight. As soon as his back was turned, their blades began to clash, leaving his ears ringing. He tripped over his feet and stumbled over to where Sky was sprawled out on the floor.
Wind dropped to the ground. The impact of his knees on stone jarred him out of his haze, and he let the world narrow until it was only him and the task at hand. Sky’s tunic was soaked through, warm and sticky. The iron scent had Wind gagging on his shallow breaths. But it was nothing he hadn’t seen before, so he steeled himself, ripped his right sleeve off his shirt, and got to work.
He folded up the cloth and pressed it against the wound. Sky hissed.
“Sorry, sorry,” Wind murmured. He looked around. They weren’t quite in the middle of the room, but they weren’t entirely out of the way, either. One mistake on Time’s part could leave Sky wide open for Legend. “Think you can, uh, move?”
Sky winced.
“Yeah, thought so.” Wind exhaled and chewed on the inside of his mouth. “Hold this in place for a second?”
Sky dutifully held onto the makeshift bandage as Wind removed his belt. Carefully, he lifted Sky just enough to slip the belt underneath. Then he tightened it around the stab wound. It wasn’t very secure, but it would maintain more pressure than Sky’s weakening grip.
Somewhere behind him, Legend shouted. Wind ground his teeth. He didn’t have the strength to move Sky somewhere safer, and there was nowhere to run, anyway. But Time said he’d handle Legend.
Time could take care of the fight. He had to take care of everything else.
“Stay alive,” Wind ordered. He took their remaining half-bottle of potion and pressed it into Sky’s clammy hand. “You’ll know when to drink this. If you die before we save you, you’re dead to me.”
Sky cracked a pathetic grin.
Wind huffed and prepared to stand. Before he could leave, Sky suddenly grabbed his wrist. His grip was weak and cold, but Wind got the message, anyway.
Good luck.
“You, too,” Wind said.
Sky let go and slumped back down to the ground.
“Alright,” Wind said to himself, rising to his feet. “Let’s break this fucking curse.”
He looked around the room, taking it all in one thing at a time. The door was locked and barred. That meant there was some sort of exit condition they had to fulfill. He couldn’t see any chests, and there were no more pots left to smash. No monsters to kill. A hidden switch, maybe? A secret key?
His eyes wandered over every inch of the chamber. No paintings or tapestries. Rusty metal chains hanging off the walls. Frayed ropes, coiled up in the corners. A large wooden block bolted onto the floor, right in front of the dirty mirror. Shelves, mostly empty—save for a few books and assorted tools.
Wait, the book.
Wind sprinted over to the fallen book. A cold spot hovered behind his shoulder as he skimmed the pages. This time, Wind took the time to focus on the details.
Names, dates, and crimes. Chronological order, written in several different inks in several different hands. The gaps between entries were large, often years, and the book was thin and lightly used. Wind squinted at the words: murder, murder, human trafficking, assault in the first degree. Murder, again. He bit his lip and flipped through, letters swimming across his vision—and he landed on the final entry.
Icy air brushed past his ears as he read the words. One count for attempted mass homicide. Two counts of first-degree murder. Four for dark magic.
The name listed in the entry was Link.
“Sailor, watch out!”
Wind dove right. Something clipped his arm, and the book fell out of his grip. Wind’s head spun as he tried to regain his bearings, but a pink-haired blur slammed him into the wall and pulled him into a chokehold. Before he could think, Wind found himself gasping for air while Legend’s left arm began to tighten around his throat.
“Stay back, old man,” Legend warned, brandishing his knife in his other hand. He jabbed his blade into the soft spot of Wind’s side, poking at the cut he’d caused earlier. “Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen, would we?”
“Let him go,” Time ordered. “It’s me you want. The kid’s innocent.”
“Sure, but it’s a lot easier to deal with you when I have leverage,” Legend said. His voice was even, almost conversational, and Wind could practically hear his smug smile.
Time took another step forward. Legend poked Wind’s cut with his knife. An involuntary hiss of pain escaped Wind’s mouth, and Time froze in his tracks.
“Drop the sword,” Legend said. “None of that hourglass bullshit, either. I’ll slit his throat before you get through the first stroke.”
Time ground his teeth. Legend took the opportunity to close his arm around Wind’s windpipe— ow, ow, ow— and after a painful half-second, Time lowered the Phantom Sword and let go of the hilt.
“Now, kick it out of reach.”
“Not too hard,” Wind wheezed. “The Smithy’s gonna riot if we ding it up even more…”
“Your priorities fascinate me,” Legend muttered.
Reluctantly, Time kicked the sword away. It skidded off to the side, stopping somewhere next to the creepy mask that Time had peeled off his face earlier.
His face.
“Okay,” Time said, face dark. He clenched his jaw and glared at Legend. “I’ve done what you asked. Let him go.”
“What makes you think you have any power in this conversation?” Legend asked, incredulous. “Farore’s balls, the kid’s life is in my hands. Why does everyone put you in charge? You’re awful at this. They should’ve realized by now—how useless a leader you are.”
Time drew his mouth into a firm line.
“Well, maybe they don’t know,” Legend amended, darkly amused. “Who even knows how many times you’ve used that ocarina.”
Wind sucked in a breath.
Time’s hand almost drifted to his pocket. He cut the action off part way through, but Wind shivered at the sight: his whole body going stiff, his arms covered in goosebumps. The moment passed, and he wished he hadn’t reacted. With Legend holding him tight, Wind knew he’d given away too much.
“Maybe Sky was right!” Legend gasped, faux-delighted. “We should talk!”
“About what?” Time ventured, a paranoid wrinkle making itself known on his forehead.
“Let’s start simple.” Legend’s voice dropped, shifting from sarcastic enthusiasm into brutal aggression. “How many tries did it take for you to ‘save’ my life?”
Wind’s heart leaped up into his throat. The blood had drained out of Time’s face, and when Wind checked, his fingers were twitching.
“Come on, old man,” Legend wheedled. “Give me a number. Don’t you think we deserve to know?”
Time opened his mouth, and then closed it. He swayed on his feet, looking as if he were about to collapse.
“You—you—you don’t have to answer that,” Wind blurted out, dizzy with panic. “It’s okay, Time! We don’t have to—”
Legend squeezed his windpipe, cutting him off. Wind’s face began to burn, on the verge of bursting, and he fruitlessly clawed at Legend’s arm—
“Three tries!” Time shouted, screwing his eye shut. His shoulders slumped, defeated, and the words came out raspy. “It took… three tries.”
Legend loosened his chokehold. Wind gasped, greedily sucking in air while he could.
“Now this sounds like a story,” Legend said. He gestured for time Time to continue. It might have looked friendly if he didn’t have a knife in his hand.
“It—it wasn’t—” Time shook his head. “You don’t need to hear this, it’s irrelevant—”
“What killed me the first time?” Legend demanded.
Time curled his hands into fists. “Hinox.”
Legend laughed. With Wind still pulled tight against him, the sound came out far too loud, and Wind winced at the rumbling in his eardrums. “A hinox?” he asked. “A fucking hinox? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Sky and I hadn’t seen one before,” Time breathed out, hanging his head low. “And it was faster than we expected. It caught us off guard.”
“Some Hero you are,” Legend snarled. “Pathetic.”
“I know,” Time said, eyes still closed tight. “It was a stupid mistake.”
“What next?” Legend asked, relishing in Time’s suffering. “What was your next fuck up?”
“We… we made it to the same trap room, the second time,” Time confessed. He took a shuddering breath. “The third time, I took Sky with me. I thought both of us together would have a better chance.”
“Hear that Sailor?” Legend drawled into Wind’s right ear. “That’s two other timelines he abandoned. And this is just the beginning.”
“Stop it,” Wind exhaled. “Shut up. Shut up.”
But Legend didn’t listen to his request. “How many times have you used it since me?” Legend called out.
Wind closed his eyes, but that did nothing to keep Time’s broken response from reaching his ears.
“Once,” Time confessed.
“For who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell that to the timeline you abandoned.”
Time flinched, looking sick. “Four and Hyrule,” he whispered. “We lost both of them in one go. Forest fire.”
Wind almost threw up, again.
“Now, it’s time for the big question,” Legend said, still talking despite everything. He straightened up and pressed his knife against Wind’s throat: cold steel against Wind’s exposed flesh. “How many times did the moon fall?”
If Wind thought Time was haunted before, he looked positively possessed, now. He staggered back, and his hands flew to his face, tracing the markings branded onto his skin.
“Too many times,” Time said into his hands.
“A number, old man,” Legend snarled. “Or are you as bad at counting as you are at being a Hero?”
Time mumbled something, too slurred and too quiet to catch.
“Speak up.”
“I don’t know.”
“And why don’t you know?” Legend pressed, merciless.
“Because I lost count.”
“Ha!” Legend let out an ear splitting cackle, as far away from humor as possible. “You wanna do the math on that one, Sailor? How many people died in that little adventure!”
“Shut up!” Wind cried. He tried to kick at Legend, but his struggles were useless. “Shut up! Stop talking!”
“Oh, come on,” Legend whined, affecting drama. “He left you too, didn’t he? That’s what he does. Rewind. Save the day. The legendary Hero of Time. But the rest of us—we’re just mistakes that never existed! He left, and he never looked back!”
Wind thrashed in his grip. Legend laughed and let the knife in his hands dig further into Wind’s skin.
“We chose to do the right thing,” Legend hissed. “We chose to be the hero. But he ran.” His voice dropped an octave. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t thinking the same thing.”
Wind opened his mouth to protest, but no words would form. The silence stretched: one second, two seconds, three seconds—and the look on Time’s face grew even wearier.
“Does it haunt you, Sailor?” Legend loosened his chokehold on Wind, but the words drew ever tighter around his throat. “In another timeline, Sky and I could have been friends.”
“Stop.”
“In another timeline, you could have been a normal kid.”
“Stop.”
“In another timeline, maybe Aryll wouldn’t be waiting for a stranger to come home.”
The blood in Wind’s veins turned to ice.
“You hate him, don’t you?” Legend raised his knife and pointed it at a shaking Time, squeezing Wind’s shoulder in a mockery of camaraderie. “Every year, they celebrate his desertion. Every year, they honor a coward. Doesn’t it make you angry?”
Wind took a steadying breath. He looked at the ground, at the book crumpled across the floor. He looked at Time, petrified with guilt. Then he looked at Legend. The smug smile on Legend’s lips. The amusement radiating from his eyes.
The knife in Legend’s right hand.
Clarity cut through his panic-addled brain. A million pieces clicked into place at once, and that persistent feeling of wrong finally found its place.
“Well, Sailor?” Legend asked. “What do you have to say?”
“The Vet is left-handed, bitch.”
Wind slammed his foot down onto its toes. The thing wearing Legend’s face hissed, and its eyes flashed red. Wind elbowed it in the gut and shoved it away, and then he turned and stumbled in the direction of his sword.
“Oh no you don’t,” it snapped.
Wind choked as it grabbed his shirt collar. He fell backward and lost his balance—which turned out to be a lucky move, as he slammed into the thing and they both went tumbling down.
“Wind!” Time shouted.
Wind had no time to respond. He wrestled for his life. In his desperation, he hit its wrist and knocked its knife away, but it only snarled and pushed back harder.
“Aw, hell,” it said, voice warping into something distinctly not-Legend. All its color bled away, leaving behind gray skin and blood-red eyes. A colorless hand clutched Wind’s tunic, and it smiled with far too many teeth for a Hylian. “I got a little carried away, didn’t I?”
“Shouldn’t have mentioned my sister,” Wind snarled.
The thing laughed. “You Heroes are all the same.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
In lieu of an answer, it flipped Wind onto the ground, slamming his head against the brick. It grabbed his arm and grinned.
Snap.
“Get off of him!”
Something blurred past Wind’s vision, and the weight on his chest vanished. Screaming, he curled up, cradling his broken arm.
Time launched himself at the thing like a whirlwind. In his hand, he held the thing’s knife. Wind could have laughed at the justice of it all if he weren’t too busy trying to process his pain.
Somewhere in the room, Time scored a fatal blow. He stabbed the thing in the throat, and black blood gushed out of its arteries.
“Ouch,” it said, calmly.
Time frowned and stepped back, guard up.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” it said, rolling its eyes. It rubbed at its throat, and the wound closed itself. “I never claimed to fight fair.”
Time scowled and lunged.
No longer shackled by the need to hold himself back, Time kept their monster busy. One knife against two fists should have been a one-sided battle. From the outside, it looked like it was. But the fact that the thing couldn’t die made it a bit more difficult. Every wound Time inflicted was shrugged off. He even managed to stab it in the eye, but it just pushed him away and complained about the sting.
Wounds that wouldn’t heal, monsters that wouldn’t die—they never had anything easy.
Wind steeled himself and rolled into a sitting position. Stars swam before his eyes, but he ground his teeth, trying to think through the pain.
Icy air slipped over his skin. The cold was soothing, and he let out a grateful sigh.
“Thanks,” Wind exhaled. His eyes flitted over to the discarded book. “Is that you? I mean, uh, your name—is it, is it Link?”
The ghost tugged at his shirt.
“Right, right!” Wind shook his head, trying to clear the haze from his thoughts. “Breaking the curse!”
He forced himself to stand.
The ghost gently pulled him along, keeping its hands on Wind’s broken arm. They made their way across the room, away from the fight and toward the shelves.
“More books?” Wind asked, worried. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but Sky was still bleeding out in the corner. He didn’t know if he could solve this mystery fast enough.
The ghost pushed. Wind, having no other options, followed, and the ghost guided his unbroken arm to a dusty wooden handle, sitting on the shelf.
Wind shivered as his fingers broke through cobwebs, but he gripped the object and held it up. It was a mallet—not a weapon, just a small hammer with a metal head that couldn’t do much more than drive nails.
“Uh,” he said.
The ghost’s hands ended up at his shoulders and began to push him toward the wooden block.
It was easy to recognize its purpose, now. The wood was solid, but with large gashes running across the top, and there was a divot on one end for a prisoner to place their head.
“Morbid,” Wind muttered. The way it was positioned, the last thing a prisoner would see is their own terrified face in a mirror.
And speaking of the mirror—
Cold hands gripped Wind’s cheeks, forcing him to lift his head and look. The mirror was dirty, dirty enough that everything seemed distorted and strange in its glass. But where Wind expected to only see himself, there were two figures standing in the reflection.
His breath hitched. Gasping, he stumbled forward and rubbed at the mirror with his good arm, wiping away the dust.
In the reflection, right where the ghost would be, stood a girl—his age, give or take a couple of years. Her hair was too curly, and her eyes were a different shade of brown, but he knew, instantly, who she was. He would recognize her anywhere.
“Aryll?” he choked out.
She smiled and lifted a hand in a friendly wave. There was a friendship bracelet on her wrist: the twin to the one he’d found in the house.
“You—you’re dead,” Wind stammered. His throat closed up. “You. You and your brother. You died.”
Her hands moved in familiar motions. “It tricked everyone,” she signed. “It got him killed. And…" she shrugged. “I tried to avenge him, but it got me, too.”
Wind swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she signed, shaking her head. “And it was a long time ago, anyway.”
Wind couldn’t argue with that, but even so—“I’m still sorry.”
“You’re nice,” she signed. “My brother would’ve liked you.”
“Maybe—maybe I’ll meet him, one day,” Wind said, one part wish and one part consolation. “Hylia sends portals. Maybe I’ll meet him. Maybe I’ll meet you.”
Aryll smiled, sad and resigned. It was a pretty thought, but they both knew that it would never come to pass.
After a moment, Wind shook his head. “The curse,” he said, turning his focus back to business. “How do I break it?”
“That thing is a reflection from the Dark World,” Aryll explained. “It came through the mirror.”
“Oh!” Wind looked down at the mallet, eyes wide. “So I just—break it?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Her eyebrows furrowed together with concern. “Be careful, though. It’s… a lot harder than it seems.”
Wind bit his lip. He tightened his grip on the mallet. “I will.”
“And—can I ask a favor of you?” Aryll signed. She raised her arm, slipped the bracelet off her wrist, and let it fall. When Wind looked at the ground, he could see it—a woven circle of colored string, faded and frayed.
“Can you bring me home?” she asked.
Wind picked the bracelet off the ground and put it in his pocket. “Of course,” he said, eyes stinging.
She reached out a hand. Wind mirrored the action. The glass was cold, cold enough to burn, but it grounded him, and judging by the smile on Aryll’s face, she felt the same way.
“Thank you for guiding me here,” he said.
She stepped back. “Thanks for listening,” she signed. Then she smiled and raised her hands for a final good-bye. “Be strong.”
And with that, she stepped out of the frame. The cold air drifted away, giving him space to do what he needed to do. Wind closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Then he raised the mallet.
The first strike didn’t do anything. With his left arm broken, all he had was his loser hand to work with, and he cringed at the way the mallet bounced harmlessly off the glass. Scowling, Wind pulled his arm back even further and tightened his grip.
The second strike hit home.
A jagged line shot across the mirror, slicing a line in his reflection. Behind Wind, something screamed.
“Stop!” it yelled, its voice scraping like glass on glass. “Stop it, it hurts, it hurts—”
“Keep going!” Time yelled over the din. “I’ll keep it busy!”
Wind raised the mallet again.
Crack.
A horrible screech flooded the air, and Wind flinched. Just ignore it, he told himself, even as every hair on his body stood on end, fighting to react to the sheer agony in its yells. Ignore it.
Crack.
“Make it stop!”
Wind choked and whipped his head around.
A blond figure was curled up on the stone, screaming itself hoarse, and when it lifted its head, Wind nearly vomited at the uncanny sight of his own face.
“Stop it,” said Wind’s voice, cracking under the pain. It reached out and grasped at the edge of Time’s pants. “It—it hurts so bad. Time, make it stop. He’s—he’s—he’s hurting me!”
A bead of sweat traced down Time’s cheeks. He took a step back, shaking off its grip, and though his face was deathly pale, he nodded his approval at Wind.
“R-right,” Wind stuttered. He raised the mallet again.
Crack.
“Please!” yelled a child’s voice. The mallet slipped out of Wind’s sweaty hands, and all the air left his lungs.
“You’re hurting me,” screamed little Time. “Stop it, stop it, stop it—”
“Keep going!” Time shouted. “It’s not me! I’m fine! The kid is fine!”
Shaking, Wind picked up the mallet, doing his best to block out the noise.
Crack.
“Link!” the voice sobbed. “What are you doing?”
Crack.
“You said you would help me!”
Crack.
“You liar!”
Wind hefted the mallet in his right hand and glared at the broken glass. He cleared his throat. “Bottoms up, Sky!” he shouted, and he slammed the mallet into the mirror for the final time.
Shards of glass fell to the ground, and the screaming began anew. Energy spent, Wind let the mallet drop to the ground. He turned around, mouth dry.
Sky groaned as he sat up, clutching his gut, and an empty potion bottle rolled away from his hands. He turned his head: not healthy, but healed enough, and the wave of relief that Wind felt made him sway on his feet.
In the middle of the room, the monster writhed on the ground: red and gray, blood and shadow, crumbling to pieces before their eyes. But if Wind thought that it was over, he thought wrong.
Right when Wind thought it was finally going to die, it raised its head—and looked straight at Sky.
“I hate you,” it hissed. Its eyes were feral, and a fresh cut ran across its uncanny face, from the corner of its eye to its chin. It slumped over onto the stone, blood pooling in its collarbones, and it laughed in a bitter imitation of Legend’s voice.
Sky was frozen.
“You traitor. You coward!”
Time kicked it in the jaw, but the damage was done. Sky let out a horrible sound, reaching out a weak hand.
“I hate you!” screamed Legend. “I hate you! I’ll never forgive you—”
“Shut up!” Time shouted, kicking it again. “Close your eyes, Sky, it’s not him! It’s not him!”
But Sky did not close his eyes.
They all watched as Legend’s body collapsed in on itself, running through stages of decay. Its fingers bloated. Its blood coagulated. Its flesh peeled off its skeleton. And finally, the whole thing began to dissolve, leaving behind nothing but a pile of salt and bone.
There was a grinding sound, and in the far corner of the room, the door opened.
“Huh,” Wind said faintly, the image of Legend’s rotting corpse seared permanently into his brain. That was definitely three weeks of lost sleep. “I guess Sky had a vision, after all.”
The journey out was a lot harder than the journey in. There was no Aryll to lead the way, so Wind and Time had to navigate the dungeon with only panicked memories for guidance. Sky’s wound was mostly closed, thanks to the potion, but he had lost a lot of blood and was far from perfectly healed. He leaned on Time for support, limping along, and they kept their pace slow to accommodate.
Wind took point. His broken arm was held fast in a makeshift sling, and in his right hand, he held the Master Sword. It gave off just enough light to illuminate the ground in front of them. Time had the Phantom Sword sheathed at his hip. They trudged through the waterways, taking wrong turns and getting lost, but eventually, they found their way back to the main chamber.
“Wait,” Sky said, before they entered the corridor that led to the staircase. “Is my map still here?”
It was.
“I can’t believe it gave you a map,” Wind muttered. He picked it up and opened it, squinting at the messy scribbles running across the page. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything. What the fuck, Sky.”
And then— “Oh, Farore. I sound like the Captain.”
Time snorted.
Map in hand, they stumbled up the stairs and into the maze. The thick scent of mint flooded the air, and Wind wrinkled his nose. Time turned the map around in his hands, trying to orient himself.
As it turned out, they didn’t need to worry. The second they turned a corner, they crashed into a very familiar group of people.
“Oh, good, you’re alive,” Warriors said, looking them over. “Glad that we found— Time!”
“Hey,” Time said, smiling at everyone.
“Praise the goddess, the old man is back,” Twilight muttered. He sneezed and rubbed at his temples. “Let’s get out of this effin’ mint maze.”
“Why’d you leave the camp?” Wild asked. He frowned, eyes landing on Sky’s torso. “Wait, is that blood?”
“Oh, shit,” Legend exhaled. He stretched out a hand. “Sky, you good?”
Sky flinched violently, causing Time to stumble. His eyes went wide, and what little color there was in his face drained away.
“I, uh, I have to go,” he stammered.
And before anyone could react, he pushed Time away and vanished into the maze.
“Sky?!” Legend yelled. His legs tensed, preparing to run—
“Don’t,” Wind ordered, grabbing Legend’s sleeve.
Legend yanked his arm away and whipped his head around. His eyes flashed with anger, but it was anger borne of concern, and that made all the difference. “Why not?”
“Not you,” Wind amended. “It’s—there was—I mean, we, uh. We ran into a face-stealing bastard.”
The realization spread across the group, and Legend stiffened. He went slack, understanding.
“Twilight,” Wind decided. “You go get him.”
Twilight blinked. He looked around, confused, and then pointed to himself with a question in his eyes.
“Yeah,” Wind said, resolute. “He needs a hug. From you.”
“Are you—are you sure?”
Wind walked up and slapped Twilight on the shoulder. “I’m a big brother,” he declared. “Trust me, I know these things.”
“Uh.”
“You heard him,” Time said. “Go hug the boy.”
Twilight nodded, rubbed his nose, and ran off into the maze.
“There had better be a good reason for you all running off,” Warriors complained, but the relief in his voice canceled out any bite the words may have had.
“We were fine,” Time said, blatantly lying. “And the Sailor broke the curse, so really, you’re welcome.”
“Wait, really?” Hyrule asked. “How?”
“I’ll tell you all about it,” Wind said. He yawned. The full force of his fatigue dropped down onto his shoulders, and he swayed on his feet. “But I’m gonna take a nap, first.”
And with that, he closed his eyes and tipped over into Hyrule’s arms.
Notes:
next time: time and wind have a conversation (affectionate) and I get to take off the mysterious anonymous mask
Chapter 10: Ocarina
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was well into the night when Wind woke up. A dull ache traveled up and down his left arm, but it was otherwise healed thanks to Hyrule’s magic, and the sheets were cool beneath his fingertips. Taking a deep breath, he rolled over in the bed and opened his eyes.
Four’s soft snoring sounded from the corner of the room. In the next bed over, Sky had his face buried into Wolfie’s fur. Further down, Legend slept on his side: facing away from Sky, but still close enough to be protective about it. If Wind concentrated hard enough, he could hear the night breeze sifting through the leaves outside.
Carefully, Wind sat up and tiptoed out of bed.
Someone coughed.
Wind stifled a yelp, tripping over his feet. He very nearly fell over, but he managed to catch himself before he could hit the hardwood floor. Heart racing, he looked around the room. Everyone was still asleep.
Everyone, that is, except for Time.
“Going somewhere?” Time signed, lifting an eyebrow. He sat on a bed, back propped against the wall. Wind thought that it was Wild’s turn to take second watch, but Time must have taken it for the sole purpose of catching Wind in the middle of the night.
Wind rolled his eyes. “You’re not funny,” he signed back. “And I have a promise to keep.”
“It’s the middle of the night. You should sleep.”
Wind stared back, unimpressed with Time’s hypocrisy. Just to be annoying, he rolled his eyes again before pointedly pulling on his boots and picking up his sword. Once he was ready, he turned to glare at Time, daring him to protest.
Time met his gaze without fear. “May I join you?”
One second passed, then two. But it was a contemplative silence, not an awkward one, and after giving the question careful consideration, Wind slung his sheath over his back and made his decision.
“Fuck it. Why not.”
Time’s mouth twitched, an almost smile, and he got to his feet.
They crept out of the inn, careful not to wake their sleeping companions. The night was warm, with a half-moon shining down from above. Crickets chirped, out of sight. After spending days traveling in nearly dead silence, it was a welcome sound. Even that detail made the ghost town feel a little less empty—as if they were staying in an ordinary inn, and not in an abandoned land that had been cursed for fifty-odd years.
Wordlessly, both Time and Wind turned on their feet and headed in the same direction: to a house at the end of the street.
They stopped at the threshold. Wind reached a hand out to the door, but he drew back at the last moment. Swallowing, he took a step back and looked at Time.
His hands wavered. “Can you wait for me?”
Time nodded. “I’ll be in the back,” he signed. He squeezed Wind’s shoulder before he stepped away.
Wind entered the house alone.
It looked the same as it did when they first passed through: dusty and chaotic, with the shards of a broken mirror scattered on the ground. When he headed up, the stairs still creaked under his feet, and one of the beds was still rumpled from when Wind had lain on it.
He wondered if that was Link’s or Aryll’s bed. He wondered which one of them was older. If they had a grandmother who made good soup, or if they enjoyed playing card games the way Wind enjoyed playing with his own sister. There was no way he would ever get the answers, but he felt it was important to ask the questions, anyway.
He pulled the nightstand out and pried open the floorboards. The chest sat in the hidden space, where Wind and Aryll had left it, and he ran a hand over its lid. He pulled out his lock picks and opened the chest. Reverently, he reached into his pocket and placed Aryll’s bracelet into the box, right next to Link’s.
The world stilled, and he sat and stared at the bracelets. The strings were worn and the colors faded. They must have worn them everywhere.
Finally, after a minute had passed, he closed the lid to the box and put it back in its space.
“I brought you home,” he spoke aloud, breaking the quiet. “Hope that’s, uh. Hope that’s enough.”
A breeze blew by—not a cold breeze, just a normal one. Wind decided to take that as a good sign.
When he came down, Time was looking at the goddess statue in the back.
Wind hopped out of the downstairs window and waded into the mint, taking the spot to Time’s immediate left. He followed the older man’s gaze and studied the sculpture, identical to the one they’d seen in the maze.
Wind took a deep breath, letting the air linger in his lungs before exhaling. It felt like closure.
Almost.
Steeling himself for the conversation ahead, Wind opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Time said before Wind could make a sound.
Startled, Wind looked over.
Time was still looking at the statue, but his words were directed to Wind all the same.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “For leaving your timeline. You’re kind and brave, and a wonderful young man. Your people are lucky to have you as their Hero. But it shouldn’t have been necessary.”
“You—” Wind shook his head. “You were ten.”
“Sailor—”
“You didn’t know what you were doing.”
“It still hurt you. You and your whole world.”
“I—” Wind rubbed at his burning eyes. “I—I’m not mad at you. Not anymore.”
“But you’re hurt,” Time pointed out. He turned his head and met Wind’s eyes, bleeding sincere regret. “I apologize.”
It was a simple apology. But a wound began to heal in Wind’s chest, and he was grateful that Time had spoken first.
“I don’t—I don’t know what I would have done,” Wind confessed. He played with the edges of his shirt. “If I were in your shoes, I mean. I don’t know if I would’ve chosen something else. Maybe. Maybe there is no right answer. But…” he trailed off.
Time waited.
“I, I get it now,” Wind said, twisting his hands. “I get why you left. Aryll wanted to go home, too. I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.”
Time shook his head. “You don’t have to force yourself to forgive me—”
“You tried,” Wind insisted. “You saved my timeline. You saved Legend. You—you saved Four and Hyrule, too. I think…” he exhaled. “I don’t know how many times the moon fell. I don’t know how many timelines you’ve made, or if that’s even how it works. But we live in a world where they live. And that’s because of you.”
Time didn’t smile, but his shoulders settled down. They both turned to look back at the statue of Hylia. The garden was silent, but in a soothing way, and the minty air cleared his lungs. It was nice.
Because he had no sense of tact or timing, Wind decided this was a good moment to open his mouth and continue the conversation. “And another thing—”
Time tensed.
“—I get everything else, too!” Wind blurted. He tugged on the edges of the shirt, twisting the fabric in his hands. “I—I get why you’re such a perfectionist. And a hardass. And why you’re a protective, hypocritical buzzkill who never lets me do anything.”
Time closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sailor…”
“Sorry!” he yelped, ears burning. “It’s the authority issues! But I think—we had a baby for a week, and watching him hold a boomerang was—” daunting, stressful, panic-inducing “—annoying as hell. If he tried barking out battle plans, I’d ignore him, too!”
Time raised his head, looking at the stars with fatigue that went down to his bones.
“That said! You shouldn’t ignore me when I have opinions,” Wind rambled, unable to stop himself from running his tongue. “I fought Ganondorf, too! I broke this fucking curse! So, if you could, um, if you could tone down the whole ‘shut up and listen, kiddo, I’m the leader’ thing—”
“Sailor,” Time said, cutting him off. He kept his head tilted back, squinting at the sky with a pinched frown. “The reason we don’t listen to you is not that you’re a kid. It’s because you never explain anything.”
“I—what?”
“Wild makes some of the most idiotic plans I have ever heard in my life,” Time groaned. “But we listen to him because he explains his logic, and then we can decide, as a group, whether or not his reasoning is sound. But you jump ahead to your conclusions and get annoyed when we ask you to explain how you got there.”
Wind frowned. He thought back to every time he’d felt shut down and ignored. Every idea he’d had, every time Four tilted his head with a question in his eyes, every time Warriors struggled to accept his input, every time Legend had to translate Wind’s suggestions into something the rest of the group could understand.
… Ah.
“When I ask you to explain yourself, I’m not trying to patronize you,” Time informed him. “I’m genuinely confused by how your brain works, sometimes. I was going to talk to you about it, but then—” Time waved a hand. “Wizzrobe.”
“Oops,” Wind said, cringing as his brain replayed every single moment of frustration he’d had throughout this journey. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be better about that. Sorry.”
“Thanks. And it’s not completely your fault,” Time assured him. “I was raised by a tree, so things that are intuitive to you fly over my head, occasionally.”
“Keep making that joke, old man, and I might actually believe you.”
Time grinned. His chuckles mingled with the crickets chirping in the distance, and Wind huffed, amused in spite of himself.
“I do trust you, by the way,” Time added. “Whether you explain yourself or not.” He turned so he was facing Wind directly, and he spoke with sincerity. “To be honest, the past week has been a bit of a blur. But I remember I was fond of you. Thank you for babysitting.”
“Thanks for being a fucking menace,” Wind said. He looked away, embarrassed by the praise.
“I mean it,” Time said. “My adventure in Termina was… a lot, to say the least. But you did a good job keeping me distracted. From both my worries and from the ocarina.”
Wind wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he asked a question instead. “How did it end?”
“Huh?”
“Did you stop the moon?”
Time stiffened, and his hand reached up to trace the markings on his face. “Eventually,” he said, after a pause.
“That’s good,” Wind said. He remembered the desperation on the kid’s face, the angry sobbing. It would’ve sucked if he went through all that just to fail.
Time tilted his head, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of his mouth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his ocarina. Wind couldn’t help but shift his weight, uncomfortable with its presence.
“Do you want it?” Time asked.
Wind choked on air. “What?” he coughed, eyes wide.
Time held out the ocarina. “I trust you,” he said. “You can call yourself a pirate all you want, but you have more integrity than me. If it ever came down to it… you’d make a better choice than I would, I believe.”
Wind stared at the instrument. It was just as intimidatingly perfect as it had always been, and the triforce symbol on the mouthpiece gleamed in the moonlight.
He looked up at Time. “What kind of bullshit is this?”
Time blinked.
“It’s yours, dumbass,” Wind said, crossing his arms. “Sky and I don’t want your burdens. What the fuck.”
Time tentatively drew his hand back. “Uh.”
“And you’re selling yourself short, anyway,” Wind added with a huff. “You’re a hero, same as me. You’d make the right choice.”
“Would I?” Time wondered. His voice was both distant and detached, and he looked back at the goddess statue with a troubled gaze.
“Of course!” Wind looked at him head-on. “You did the best you could with the information you had! And, and back there, in the dungeon. You were eleven years old, you were desperate to go back to Clock Town, you had no clue what was going on, and you still chose to play a different song. If you made that choice under the weirdest circumstances of all time, you’d make it now, too.”
Time looked down at the ocarina, tightening his grip on the instrument. “It’s been a long time since I was eleven years old,” he said quietly. “I’ve changed.”
“Not that much,” Wind said. He stepped closer and leaned into Time’s side. “You’re not the coward that you think you are.”
Time didn’t respond.
But after a long moment, he loosened his grip on the ocarina, took a deep breath, and lifted it to his mouth.
His fingers danced across the holes of the ocarina. The notes came out pleasant and clear, and the melody marched up and down the range of the instrument, with a hopeful sense of wonder somewhere in its tune.
It was not a happy song. It was not even a peaceful song. But the music filled Wind with faith—faith that, no matter where in the universe they ended up, they would have the courage to make the choices they could live with.
Notes:
*extended sounds of a MM transformation sequence as I remove the anonymous mask*
HELLO!To everyone who read this: thank you for joining me on this rollercoaster!! I had a lot of fun making this, perhaps too much fun. Sorry about the cannibalism joke. Not sorry about the Not!Dead!Legend thing.
(In all seriousness, thanks for all the lovely comments!! I love you all forever!)
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