Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was uncommon that the Chain found themselves truly baffled by where they were after a jump between eras. Unsure? Sure. A little lost? Often enough. But to pick themselves up off the ground and not recognize a single landmark? That was something that had so far only happened twice. Hylia, the Three, whoever was yanking them around, always did so with a purpose; wherever the Chain ended up, they knew they could count on an objective being shoved their way sooner than later. But today, the world around them was completely foreign and new. It made Sky nervous. Familiarity may not guarantee safety, but it did carry the possibility of comfort: soft beds at Dueling Peaks Stable, hot soup from Outset Island, the safety of the ranch. Or, if Hylia was looking down at them favorably, the chance to see Sun, to kiss her cheek and sleep with her in his arms, to soak in the light that always seemed to follow her like a faithful friend.

But this wasn’t Wild’s Hyrule, or Outset, or the ranch, and it certainly wasn’t the Surface. No, wherever they had found themselves was cold, cold and wet with a wind chill that made Sky’s bones ache. Snow drifted down softly and dissolved away in the water that sloshed around their ankles. The water was so cold it shimmered, and Legend’s legs were already red from the wind. Wild slipped his slate from his hip and with a swipe and a few taps, handed out bottles of spicy elixir without a word. There were a few grunts of thanks and Sky wrapped his hands around the bottle, allowing himself a moment to revel in the warmth radiating from the bottle before holding his nose and downing it in one gulp. Sky didn’t quite know the difference between a potion and an elixir, but Wild’s elixirs always tasted fouler than any potion, starting off incredibly sour and then shifting into something so bitter that it almost always made Sky gag. Still, the elixir sat in his belly with a pleasant warmth that soon radiated out into his blood, quickly fighting back against the chill around them.

“Thanks,” he said and Wilds nodded, cheeks flushed from the wind.

“Well, I don’t recognize shit.” Legend said, glancing around. They were in a valley, water pooling around them and snow coating the ground. There wasn’t a speck of plant life, or any animals that Sky could see, just miles of snow and cliffs. Hyrule squatted down and ran his fingers through the stagnant water before grabbing a clump of mud.

“I don’t feel anything alive,” He said softly, letting the mud slip through his fingers, “nothing at all.” He took a few steps forward before tripping, landing face-first in the water. Time helped him to his feet and Hyrule shook out his hair.

“I felt something metal. There’s a door under the silt.” He said and the group glanced at each other. So far, no objective had been revealed. The door seemed as good a start as any. Hyrule stepped back and Wild stepped forward, and with a flash of red from his slate the door flipped open with a groan. The water rushed inside, leaving behind freezing mud and silt.

“Guess it’s better than wandering around in the cold,” Four said, and there were mumbles of agreement from the group—unit Four took hold of the edge of the doorframe and jumped.

“Wait! Twilight cried, jerking forward to grab the teen’s hood, but Four was already gone into the darkness. There was a splash, and a grunt, and then Four called out.

“It’s a short drop and the snow cushions your fall. Good to go!”

“Don’t ever jump from unknown highs again,” Twilight called as he leaned over the edge and dropped down.

One by one the heroes disappeared into the gloom, Sky following after Hyrule, sailcloth in hand just in case, and Time coming up the rear.

It was clear what the room was as soon as Sky rolled off the slushy snowbank. It was the front hall to a temple. Legend groaned, and Sky was inclined to agree. The Divine could have dropped them off on the Surface, or Hateno, or hell, even Windfall, but They chose a dungeon crawl instead.

The air down here was oppressive with magic, though which kind, Sky wasn’t sure. Being the resident dungeon crawl expert, Legend stepped forward, scanning the blank walls before noticing scratches under a patch of snow.

“Help me dig.” He called over his shoulder, and the Chain quickly crowded around, scooping away snow. It was an inscription, written in what Sky could tell was some kind of Hylian but clearly wasn’t his. Wind squinted and leaned closer.

“It’s mine.” He said. ‘Past choices burn like ice on untamed skin. Face yourself, and find warmth.’

At his words, the inscription glowed a pale pink. Wind scooted back, knowing well enough not to touch it. There was a bang and the group’s heads jerked up—somehow, the door above them had shut.

“Well, fuck.” Legend said blandly, and Warriors snorted.

Twilight glanced to Time, the two of them doing that near-silent communication that for some reason they thought the rest of them didn’t notice. It used to bother Sky, but now he just chose to ignore it.

“Maybe there’s a bombable wall,” Four said, standing and moving to the perimeter. “Or an arrow switch.”

“Doubt it,” Wind answered, leaning back on his heels. “I’m guessing this is the only way forward.”

“I agree,” Time said, “the question is how safe a way forwards it is.”

“I’ll go, scout ahead and see what it is,” Twilight said, reaching for the inscription. Legend grabbed his wrist in a vice grip.

“That is a terrible idea, and you know it.”

“So, you have a better idea?”

“We don’t touch it at all.”

The two of them began to bicker and Wild rolled his eyes, jerking forward and slamming his palm on the inscription.

“Wait!” Legend and Twilight both yelled, but it was too late. A cold unlike anything Sky had ever felt before burned into him, spicy elixir useless, his blood suddenly sharp with ice crystals and his muscles fragile with frost. It was too much, burning, screaming, and then Sky couldn’t feel anything at all.

---

It wasn’t cold when Legend came to. It was sweltering, sweat already beginning to bead on his forehead, and he could taste salt on his lips. The air was hazy with dust and smelled strongly of soot and brimstone—Legend had been up Death Mountain enough times to recognize a volcano when he saw one. Smelled one. Whatever.

Sure enough, when he finally managed to roll to his feet and open his eyes he found himself surrounded by pools of lava and rolls of sandy, brown hills. Somewhere, he could hear the chitter of fire keese. Legend pulled off each of his rings and stuffed them in his pocket, not wanting to risk the metal heating up too much and burning him.

“Everyone accounted for?” He called and the group rounded off: Twilight, Four, Wind, Wild, Warriors, Time, Hyrule and…

“Where Sky?” He said, whirling and scrambling to look over the cliff edge they found themselves on into the lava flats below. Sky couldn’t have been dropped off the edge, could he? The thought was tight in Legend’s throat when he heard the tale-tell sound of a sword being drawn. The heroes all turned, hands on their weapons, and there, a few meters before them, was Sky.

He was dressed differently and was notably younger, wearing a classic green tunic and chain mail that had to be sweltering in this heat. His face was smudged with ash and soot and his clothing was singed, a bandage still wet with burn salve wrapped around his left forearm, and in his hand was an elegant blade Legend had never seen before, pale and glittering in the lava light.

“Who the hell are you?” Sky said, blade pointed straight at them, and Legend felt a feeling of dread pooling in his gut. Younger Sky, green clothes, a sword they didn’t know, the fact that he didn’t know them—this was a Sky still in his adventure. The question was if this was a vision or time travel. Legend wasn’t sure which one he wanted less.

“Tourists!” Wind piped up before anyone could think of a better lie. “But we got, uh, lost. Really lost.”

“Sightseeing in Eldin?” Sky said with a raised eyebrow and Wind nodded vigorously.

“Tourists.”

Sky sighed and lowered his blade slightly. “Fi?”

In a flash of blue light, suddenly some sort of spirit floated before Sky, who gestured to them with a raised eyebrow. It—she?—turned and looked at them with an analytical eye. Sky called the Master Sword Fi sometimes; did that make that stubby little blade the Master Sword?

“My analysis finds no trace of Demise’s guidance, nor Zelda’s aura. However, the percentage of a chance they are non-threatening is unsure.” She said, “Proceed with caution.” Sky slowly nodded.

“Thanks, Fi.”

Sky didn’t sheath his sword, but it was no longer pointed at them, which Legend considered a win.

“I didn’t think there were any other humans on the Surface,” Sky said, mostly to himself, before kneeling down and extending a hand to Wind.

“Sorry about that. This isn’t a safe place for sightseeing, you should go.”

“We’re tougher than we look.” Wind said, shaking his hand, and Sky sighed deeply. He looked exhausted, the circles under his eyes as dark as bruises.

“If you head east, then south, following the cliffs, you should get to the edge of Eldin, and from there it’s a quick walk to Faron. Much better place.” Sky said, and Wind turned on his best puppy eyes. For someone who liked to insist they weren’t a child anymore, he sure was good at playing the kid card.

“I get lost easily, and it’s so scary around here—could you take us?” Wind asked, and Legend waited for Sky to agree. He was a Link, side quests were in his blood.

“No.”

Wind blinked. “No?”

“I’m doing something important, more important than tourists. I was already late once, I’m not going to be late again.”

“But you’re a Link! Helping people is what you do!” Wind cried—it was the wrong reply. Sky jumped to his feet and slid down into a proper fighting stance, sword at the ready. It was easy to forget sometimes that Sky was classically trained at his fancy knight academy, but as he narrowed his eyes at them, blade held forward with savage comfort, it was clear just how dangerous this Sky was.

“I didn’t say my name.” He said bluntly, grip tightening on the maybe-Master Sword. “You’re going to tell me who you are, quickly, and hope I’m alright with that answer. Now.”

Wind glanced to Time, clearly aware he had fucked up, and just as the older man began to open his mouth Wild jumped forward, hands raised in an obvious show of good faith.

“We’re pilgrims. Forgive us for not saying it sooner, but things have been so much more dangerous here than usual and it’s hard to know who to trust. We’re on a pilgrimage following in the footsteps of Hylia and her First Hero—you’re dressed so similarly, we assumed you would be a follower as well. We’re all named Link, in honor of the First, you know, tradition, tradition, blah blah, and my little brother thought that if you were also a follower, you must be named Link too. Happy coincidence that you are. We didn’t mean to startle. We really are just following the path left behind by the Goddess.”

Sky narrowed his eyes. “Pilgrims?”

Wild nodded. “We came to pay our respects to the Sacred Spring nearby.”

Ah, Sacred Springs. Legend had never been more grateful for being forced to listen to Sky’s history lessons whenever the man got homesick, or that Wild had actually been paying attention.

At that Sky’s face softened, something almost pained pulling at the bags under his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t in good conscience lead you there. The Earth Temple is too dangerous for mere travelers, especially children—” Wind opened his mouth and Twilight very quickly covered it “—but I can take you to the edge of Eldin. Faron has its own Spring; it’s a far safer destination.”

“Thank you,” Twilight said with a smile, as if Wind wasn’t currently biting his hand, and Sky finally, finally, sheathed his sword.

“Alrighty then,” He said, adjusting his adventure pack, “let’s be off.”

“What—already?” Warriors said, jogging after Sky who had already started down the path at a surprising speed. Sky looked back over his shoulder, waving the group on.

“I told you, I’m on a tight schedule. I was late once. I will not be again.”

---

Legend learned a few things about this new, younger Sky. One) He was far more serious, though that could be just the exhaustion that hung off him like a wet blanket. He made soft small talk, especially taking a shining to Wind, but seemed hesitant to show anyone anything more than a tired smile. Two) He was clearly classically trained, the sword in his hand perfectly balanced, but struggled to adjust to using items, breaking his beetle more than once and having to force the pieces back together. He went through his burn salve quickly, struggling to recover from constantly blowing himself back with his own bombs. The Sky Legend knew was graceful, resourceful—this was not that Sky. Third) Sky was deeply, deeply insecure. Every decision he made was backed up by analytics from his sword spirit; if Legend didn’t know any better he’d say the teen couldn’t feed himself without Fi first telling him the likelihood of him choking on the spoon. Legend was surprised by how much it made him miss Sky, their Sky, a clever, easy-going leader, not this quiet, neurotic idiot.

Sky finished helping them climb up a small cliff face, promising the first hint of green they’d seen all day just over the edge, and was panting to a concerning degree by the time they reached the top, swaying for a moment before pulling a green potion out of his pack and taking a long, long swig.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“We can take a break if you need,” Four said, and the look Sky gave him was scathing.

“The faster you get to Faron the faster I can get to Lanayru. I can’t be late.”

That was another thing—Sky’s bizarre obsession with punctuality. No breaks were allowed, not even time for a drink, just go, go, going until Sky looked ready to drop. Each time he began to waver, he’d down another potion and force himself forward. Frankly, it didn’t look healthy. Four continued pressing, which Legend was sure was going to end badly, and instead of continuing to eavesdrop, he slowed down to speak to Time, who had been taking up the rear.

“So, any idea what we’re looking at?” Legend said under his breath, keeping his eyes on Sky. “Vision? Time travel?”

Time shook his head. “Not time travel. I’d know if it was. It feels more like—”

“A dream.” Hyrule butted in, eyes narrowing on Sky as he took another sip of potion. Legend grimaced. Hyrule wasn’t wrong. It did carry the strange dreamlike vibes that Legend had come to so despise. “It feels like lucid dreaming.”

Time hmmed. “Or a memory.” Legend didn’t know how he wasn’t dripping sweat in all that armor; Eldin continued to be sweltering, even once they left the lava flats.

“Past choices burn like ice on untamed skin.” Time said slowly, “Face yourself, and find warmth”

“Maybe we have to help Sky,” Hyrule said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his tunic. “Help him ‘face himself’ and then we’ll wake up.”

“But why Sky? Wild touched it.” Legend said, and Hyrule sighed.

“Maybe it’s all of us. Wild touched it, but we all showed up. Maybe we have to help each other.”

“Well, that sounds just peachy—”

The two stopped whispering at the sound of raising voices.

“It’s been hours,” Twilight said at the front of the group, arms crossed, and Sky glared at him with a fierceness Legend rarely saw from him. “We need a break. You need a break.”

“I can’t—”

“Be late, I know, you’ve said that already. It’s getting dark. We’ll set up camp and be out before dawn. Just a few hours Sk—Link. Please.”

Sky narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“No?”

“I’m not stopping. If you want to sleep so badly, go ahead, but I’m leaving.”

“Link, you’re being unreasonable,” Twilight said, and Sky turned his back, wobbling slightly. He cursed under his breath when he went for the green potion and only saw a few tablespoons left.

“What are you even drinking, anyways?” Warriors said, snatching the bottle. Sky lunged for it, but not before Warriors could take a sip.

“Stamina potion? Link, I know you don’t have the best lungs but that much—” Realization dawned on Warriors’ face. “When’s the last time you slept?”

Sky snatched back the bottle. “Not important.”

“Actually, I think that is incredibly important. How much of this have you had? Have you—have you been drinking these instead of sleeping? Are you mad? You’re going to make yourself sick!”

“I’m fine, perfectly fine. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! And I need you lot to let me do it!”

He turned and Warriors grabbed his wrist; if not for Twilight ripping Warriors back he would have lost his hand. Sky’s had drawn his blade in an instant, but the gray in his face did little to help him look intimidating. Mostly, he just looked like he might faint.

And then he did. He went limp, managing one aborted half-step backward before tumbling down over the edge of the cliff they had been climbing.

---

Wind was the first one by his side, deku leaf in his hand in a second, followed by Legend, hookshot locked between three rocks and dragging him down. Sky was sprawled on the hard ground, out cold. His right arm—not his sword arm, thank the Triforce, was snapped, his left ankle at an odd ankle, but he didn’t seem to have hit is head. Still, Hyrule checked over for any sign of concussion, running magical hands over Sky’s skull and letting out a breath of relief when he found nothing.

Normally, the group was quick to wake someone after they dropped like that, but saying how they had no idea when the last time Sky even slept was, and Hyrule had assured them there was no head injury, they elected to let him drift, so long as his breathing stayed steady and his heartbeat strong. The sun had long since gone down by the time he woke, Wild’s cloak bundled up and stuffed under his head as a pillow. With some help from Four, Time had stripped most of Sky’s chainmail off; sure enough, the skin underneath was burned, his time inside the volcanic temple having heated the metal enough to sear skin, and Hyrule had worked as quietly as he could to help with the angry marks once he’d set and healed the crunched bone.

“What do you think happened?” Wind said softly, running his fingers through Sky’s hair. Sky wore it longer than he did with them, his bangs falling into his eyes. “I mean, I get adventures can seem stressful, or that you don’t feel like you have the time you need to save the people you love. When Aryll was taken, every minute without a sword in hand felt like a minute wasted. But I still slept…”

“I didn’t.” Wild said, pulling his knees to his chest. “Sleep, I mean. I did the same thing, thrived on stamina elixirs until my body gave out. Didn’t think I deserved slept, after a hundred years out cold.”

Four rested his head on Wind’s shoulder. “I’m grateful I had Ezlo. When Vaati transformed Zelda to stone—I was convinced that every moment I was away from her that she would just… I don’t know… erode into dust. When I went too long without rest, Ezlo would pull on my hair until I agreed to stop.”

Time had gone rigid, showing a discomfort that he rarely did when it came to discussing journeys. Suddenly, Sky’s face twitched and the group all crowded around. With a soft groan, the teen’s eyes fluttered open. He squinted up at them, brain sluggishly trying to put itself back together.

“Hey, sleepy head.” Warriors said with a smile and Sky’s eyes went wide. He sat up so quickly he smacked Warriors in the forehead and both cursed, clutching at their hairlines.

“How long have I been out?” Sky asked, voice panicked, as he tried to struggle to his feet. Twilight held him down, grip gentle but firm.

“Woah there, big guy, no getting up just yet.”

“No, no you don’t understand, he’s after her, they all are, I have to get to her first, I can’t let him get that close again, I can’t—”

“Link, Link breathe—”

“Impa stopped him once, but what if she can’t again? I was late, I can’t be again, I can’t—”

Sky was hyperventilating at this point, and it was clear just how foggy his head was when he allowed Twilight to maneuver his head between his knees.

“Deep breaths, in and out, just like that…”

The group stepped back, giving Twilight and Sky some room as Twilight slowly talked Sky down. Finally, Sky’s breathing equaled out, though each breath shuddered in his chest.

“How long was I asleep?” He croaked.

The group was quiet, scared to answer before Time finally moved forward. “A little over four hours.”

A bitter sob bubbled out of Sky’s chest. Legend suddenly felt incredibly voyeuristic. Still, even if emotions weren’t his strong suit, a friend was suffering, and that wasn’t acceptable. He knelt down beside Sky.

“Your friend—” Sun, most certainly Sun— “do you think she’d be very happy if you dropped dead in some lava flat in fucking Eldin because you ran yourself into the dirt? Frankly, I think that would just add to her problems. It’d be real damn annoying to be stuck somewhere because the guy you’re holding out for got crispy. She’ll wait. She understands.”

Sky wiped his eyes with his sleeve, leaving smudges of soot behind on tan skin. “I was late. The people after her—they got her. I found the chains. If her friend hadn’t been there, she would have died. Because of me.”

“No, because of the people after her. Your job is hard enough. If you make it any harder, you’ll buckle, and then no one’s happy. Lay back down. We’ll keep watch and wake you in the morning.”

Sky looked very much like he wanted to complain, but with a firm hand, Legend pushed him back onto the dusty Eldin ground.

“Sleep. Evil will still be there in the morning. You can fight it all you want then.”

Apparently, days on end without rest and a panic attack took a lot out of you, because Sky was asleep before Legend even finished his sentence.

---

The ground Warriors woke on was freezing cold and hard as stone—or, hard as tile, because it was. Beautiful grey tile with black mosaics spiraling across it telling the triumphs of what appeared to be some kind of wind god. The ceiling of the room was impossibly high, the walls lined in black and purple satin, and the sound of battle echoed off the stone columns. So, they helped Sky (hopefully) ditch his potion habit and get a good night’s sleep. Was that enough for them to move on to what? Someone else’s memories in the Chain? Warriors shudder to think of what they might find in his head if Hyrule’s hypothesis of ‘helping each other’ proved to be true.

Sky groaned as he sat up, hair short, face clean, and green tunic nowhere to be seen. Wind crashed into him and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Where are we?” Sky said, peeling Wind off of him.

“Do you not remember meeting us?” Wind asked, looking surprisingly dejected.

“What? Of course, I do.”

“He means on your adventure,” Warriors said, popping his back as he stood. “When we awoke from Mr. Genius here messing with the temple inscription, we were in Eldin, just outside its volcano. We found you, but it was the you from your first adventure. You were abusing potions, we had a little heart-to-heart, tears, blah blah. Hyrule thinks the inscription means we’re to help each other—”

“—at the lowest parts of our journey—”

“—At the lowest parts of our journey, yes, and apparently whoever is in charge thinks we did a good enough job with you, because here we are!”

Sky blinked. “Okay. I don’t remember seeing you. But okay.”

“Did you…” Hyrule cleared his throat. “Were you really using potions like that?”

Sky flushed. “I—I…” He glanced around at all the faces suddenly on him. Warriors knew he should tell Sky that his words and experiences were his own, that no one here was entitled to them, but curiosity itched in his brain all the same. Ashamed, he stomped the voyeuristic impulse down and helped Sky to his feet.

“Sky, you don’t have to—"

“After my first temple,” Sky interrupted, suddenly very interested in the leather of his gloves, “I went to Eldin in search of Sun. She was heading to a Sacred Spring with the intent to purify her body to better take her place as Hylia. But monsters—a demon lord—were following her. While I was learning how to use bomb flowers and playing gambling games, the demon, he… Well, he caught up to her. Imprisoned her. I found the chains. She was traveling with a Sheikah warrior, and had the woman not been there…” Sky took a steadying breath. “I was late. Impa made that very clear. The words stung, but they were true. After that, I was determined to keep going, refused to slow down. I wasn’t going to let Sun get hurt again. And so that meant… uh, well. You saw.”

Sky’s face scrunched with thought. “Come to think of it, I don’t remember why I stopped using potions like that. I just, stopped. I remember the day I collapsed. I fell off the side of a cliff, broke my leg and my arm, and nearly got mauled. I was stuck down there for days before a Mogma found me, half delirious with dehydration and nearly burned to a crisp. I remember it perfectly but… but the memory feels different… safer.”

Hyrule and Time glanced at each other, but before either could speak the group heard footsteps. Warriors flattened against the wall, realizing suddenly they were down one.

“Four,” he hissed, “does anyone know where Four is?”

Warriors craned his neck, trying to see around the column Legend had pressed himself against. He heard Four before he saw him. A wet, sticky dripping, ragged breaths, the tale tell wheezing of a punctured lung, and stumbling steps. Four rounded the corner but—?

It couldn’t be Four. It couldn’t be. But somehow, the thing had his face!

“What the fuck…” Warriors could hear Legend whisper behind him, and frankly, he couldn’t help but agree. The creature looked exactly like Four, if Four was just a few years younger, but its hair was dark, its skin waxy and dead, and its eyes a hollow red. It stumbled down the castle hallway, black blood dripping from unseen wounds, leaving a trail of gore behind it. It tried to take another step forward and toppled, dropping onto the stone tile. It let out a wheezing laugh.

“I know y’all are there. Can’tya give a dying man some privacy?”

Fuck, the voice even sounded like Four’s, weird drawl aside.

“If you’re just gonna ogle me, could you at least help me get out of here? I don’t… I don’t want Link to see me like this. He can remember me throwing him into lava or something badass like that—wait, wait, get back!”

The Not-Four forced itself to its feet and pulled a very familiar sword from off its back; that was the Four Sword. How the hell had this thing gotten it?

“Listen, pal, this part of the palace is off limits,” Not-Four called. “I made sure of that. We lost! Vaati is dead, and the Hero is gonna knock the lights outta Ganon next, so scram before I gut you. Or something.”

“Shadow!” A purple blur shot down the hallway, ramming straight into Not-Four, whose sword went flying and dissolved into shadow. A fake.

“Thought you were one of Ganon’s people,” the kid—Shadow?—wheezed from the crushing hold the purple preteen had it in. “Almost swiped at you, idiot.”

“You of all people should know I’m no friend of Ganon,” Four pulled back from Shadow, his purple tunic sticky with Shadow’s blood, and smiled. It was wide and fragile, barely hiding the tears in his eyes.

“What on Nayru’s blessed earth did you do to yourself?” Four hissed. Shadow cupped his face with one clawed hand.

“Broke the mirror. What can I say, you inspired me.”

Four’s eyes went wide. “Shadow…”

“Shut up. Shut up and hold me.”

“No! We’ll find Zelda, she’ll fix you up, and you’ll be fine—”

“Zel is all light magic,” Shadow said weakly, “One touch and that Light Force of hers will fry me. I’d rather die like this.”

“You are not dying.”

Shadow’s legs finally gave and it slipped fully against Four, who buckled under its dead weight, the both of them tumbling to the ground.

“I broke the mirror. We both know what that means.”

“You—”

“Hey, does this mean you’d have murdered me when you tried to break it?” Shadow laughed, blood bubbling up and over its lips, and tears began to drip down Four’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Shadow croaked. “That was a bad joke.”

Its breath was a whistling wheeze, and Warriors knew what a man on death’s door, what a man past the point of no return, sounded like.

“Sorry… I try’da execute you…” Shadow said, voice almost too soft to hear. “You were a good friend, Vio. Even if you didn’t mean it.”

“I meant it. I swear I did, I meant all of it.” Four said. “It didn’t matter if I was there to kill Vaati or Ganon or whatever, I meant every word I said to you. You’re my best friend.”

“Wow, even before your other halves? Quarters? Whatever.”

Four forced a smile. “Far, far before those idiots.”

Shadow went still in his arms. Warriors couldn’t hear wheezing anymore.  “Shadow? Shadow, Shadow please—” Four’s hands fluttered over the creature’s prone body, shaking it violently. It didn’t stir. Four swore and scrambled over Shadow, fitting his hands together and leaning over Shadow’s heart. Warriors could see him mouth his counts as he pressed down, but it was clear Four had never done chest compressions before.

It was clear that at this point, they would do no good.

But Warriors knew what it was like to watch a friend die. Knew the desperation of pressing up and down and pretending you didn’t feel their blood on your hands. Knew how hard it was to stop once you started. He stepped forward, shaking off Legend’s grip on the back of his tunic, and knelt beside Four.

“What are you doing here, soldier?” Four grit out. One and two and three and four and… “The knights should be cleaning up what’s left of Vaati. Leave us.” Five and six and seven and eight and…

Warriors put his hands over Fours. “It’s gone.”

“He’s going to be fine.”

“Link…”

“I’m not going to stop, I can’t be the one to kill him, I can’t—”

“Then let me.” Warriors folded his hands together and began the compressions, allowing Four to move his hands away. Tears streamed down the preteen’s face as Warriors moved, and slowly Warriors came to a stop. A pained rattling sound ripped from Four’s chest and Warriors pulled him close. Slowly, the body between them dissolved, like a shadow under low light, and Warriors heard footsteps. He glanced up—three other Fours stood at the far end of the room, each looking exhausted but triumphant. The Four in his arms didn’t acknowledge them, just buried his head in Warrior’s scarf. Warriors ran a bloody hand through Four’s hair. He didn’t say it would be okay—he knew it never was. He just held the kid and rocked him, scratching his scalp softly, until the room faded to black.

---

Twilight woke to the sound of songbirds. He bit back a groan and sat up, rolling his head to get out the cricks, and found his gaze immediately turn to Four. It felt horribly rude to stare, but the image of Shadow, of Warriors helping the purple Four put him to rest… it didn’t disappear easily.

“I assume that it was my memory?” Four said. “Given as how you all are looking at me like that.”

Hyrule flushed and looked away.

“Alright, spill, which of my dark secrets did you see?”

Time was finally the first one to speak. “It was personal, and for that, we apologize.”

Four scoffed. “I knew it would be.”

“There was a Dark Link—”

The color drained from Four’s face. “You saw Shadow?” He said softly, and when the group nodded he looked down, suddenly fascinated by the hem of his tunic. Twilight wondered if the four colors were for the four Links they saw.

“And there was a lot of you. Like four? Five?” Wind said.

“Four,” Four corrected. “There were four of me.”

The hem of his tunic must have been very, very interesting. Four breathed out through his nose.

“The Four Sword is enchanted. When I pulled it for the first time it split me into four essences of myself. But that’s not important. Shadow… he was my shadow, literally. He was made from my shadow. And I… we became close during an espionage quest. Very close. And then he died.” Four bit his lip. “It’s funny. I remember being alone when he died, but also thinking about it… there’s this comfort there that I don’t remember always being there. Like someone was holding my hand.”

“I know what you mean,” Sky said. “Like the memory is the same, but the feeling’s shifted.”

Four looked about ready to answer him when Twilight finally finished a head count.

“Wild is missing. This must be his memory.” He said, pulling Wind to his feet.

“Does anyone ever see him?” Warriors said, slowly spinning around to look. “At least with Sky and Four we found them near instantly. I don’t see jack shit in these woods, just a whole bunch of trees.”

‘I think they’re very nice trees.’

Warriors nearly jumped out of his skin at the person who materialized seemingly out of nothing behind him. Wild.

His hair was longer, wilder, piled on top of his head in a bun so messy that Twilight was surprised there weren’t birds nesting in it. He was missing a few scars, noticeably the missing chunk of his right ear, and instead of wearing his blue tunic, he wore an off white, extremely threadbare shirt. It fit him horribly, looking like it had once been a feast for moths, but he seemed comfortable in it.

‘Y’all lost?’ He signed, and Twilight was amazed by how open his face was. When the Chain first met Wild, he had been cagey, paranoid, and secretive, and it had taken weeks just to get him to talk verbally to them instead of his combination of quick, simplistic signs and unsettling silence. Where was that Wild? Twilight had always assumed paranoia had been Wild’s default, but now, looking at how comfortable Wild seemed with strangers, a feeling of unease was bubbling in Twilight’s gut.

“Yes,” Time answered Wild, “we’re not sure where we are.”

Wild grinned. ‘You’re a long way from civilization, boys. Rutile lake is just a little under a mile away, then Satori Mountain is a little ways past that. What’s got you this far off the beaten path?’ He signed.

“Looking for Lord of the Mountain.” Wind said. Twilight was surprised that Wind remembered the divine protector lived nearby—or, maybe he shouldn’t be. He remembered just how enthralled the kid had been when Wild first told him about the creature, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ over the pictures on Wild’s slate.

Wild’s laughed. ‘It’s a little harder than a hike to Satori to find him. But I appreciate the enthusiasm.’ He even signed differently than when they first met, his hands lose and comfortable. What happened? What changed?

Wild’s eyes flit from hero to hero, eyebrows furrowed in thought. ‘Listen, I’m low on endura carrots and y’all look like shit. Let me take you to the edge of Satori. I’d feel better knowing you won’t get trampled by a Stalnox once the sun goes down.’

Time stepped forward, ever the negotiator. “Thank you—what was your name?”

The Wild Twilight knew never gave out his name easily, avoiding personal questions from strangers. This Wild smiled.

‘Link.’

---

The walk up Satori was pleasant, the air warm with a slight breeze, the nature around them rich and golden. Wild walked with a purpose, humming as he stopped every once and a while to pocket something off the ground: pretty stones, a truffle, strangely shaped sticks, and once a beetle with iridescent wings. The hike went on for hours, but Wild let them take frequent breaks, showing them which berries were safe to snack on while they rehydrated. The sun had just started to set when they heard the scream.

Wild’s head whipped up from where he’d been kneeling in the dirt and without a word he took off into the brush, leaving the Chain to scramble behind him, dodging trees and brambles. Twilight could hear the bokoblins before he saw them, recognizing the squealing unique to Wild’s monsters in an instant. They broke through a clearing where a traveler armed with only a dull-looking short sword had been cornered by three black bokos; the man’s eyes widened when he saw the group, and Wild was on the bokos in an instant.

Not for the first time, Twilight found himself entranced by the teen’s fighting style. Wild fought strangely, a combination of muscle memory from his time as a classically trained knight and aggression learned from fighting by himself deep in the wilds. It led to a style full of savage grace, like a fox ready for the final strike. Twilight reached for his sword as the Chain broke through the treeline, but it was pointless. Wild had already decimated the trio of monsters and was now on his knees by their corpses, cutting out their guts with a sharp knife. Wind made a face and Twilight couldn’t help but agree. It didn’t matter how many times he saw Wild harvest materials from his monsters, it would never stop being disgusting.

The traveler sheathed his sword with a shaky breath and gratefully accepted the canteen Four handed him.

“Thank you,” He wheezed, and Wild brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

‘I’m happy to help.’

“No, please, let me repay you. I don’t have money, but I have a travel pot. It’ll be dark any minute now. Let me cook you something.”

Wild’s eyes lit up.

‘I’d like that. As long as you have enough for my friends.’

The traveler’s face twisted a little at that, but Wild didn’t seem to notice as he dumped the still-moving boko guts in his Sheikah slate.

So, Twilight found himself sitting on the forest floor while the traveler—Djan—warmed to the cooking pot. Djan and Wild seemed to be getting along, making small talk as Djan cubed mushrooms and carrots, and Twilight was content to just listen. Still, there was something about Djan he didn’t trust. He had no reason not to—the man had been nothing but kind and grateful—but something about this felt… off. The Wild he knew never accepted food from strangers. Said it was too dangerous.

Twilight’s nose perked up as Djan added some green power to the stew. It smelled bitter, too bitter for any normal cooking ingredient, but it would take explaining to say why he could smell a problem with an ingredient from multiple meters away. Djan began spooning food into wood travel bowls and each Link thanked him. Twilight watched as the group dug in, Djan blushing under the group’s praise, and raised his spoon to his nose. It just… it didn’t smell right. Time caught his eye and gave a raised eyebrow, but Twilight subtly shook his head. They could talk later when Djan wasn’t around.

“So, tell me Link, how are you enjoying your little… adventure?” Djan said, voice suddenly sickly sweet.

Wild looked up at him, but his eyes were strangely glassy.

“I never…told you my name.” He croaked, the first verbal words he’d said all day. Djan grinned, and the sudden smell of magic, old dark magic, was overpowering. Djan stood and kicked over the pot, spilling food across the ground.

“Oh, I know your name. I know everything about you, Champion.”

Wild jumped to his feet and promptly fell, shaking like a leaf, and Djan’s laughed, glamour disguise melting away in a flash of red magic. Red armor, white mask, bastardized Sheikah emblem—Yiga.

“What did you do?” Wild hissed and Djan’s smile was near manic.

“Didn’t that princess of yours ever teach you stranger danger?”

Time drew his sword, but the movement was too slow, too sluggish, and his hands shook so badly that the hilt slipped from his fingers. Djan, if that was even his real name, kicked it aside.

Any other day, Twilight knew they could take one measly Yiga. But this wasn’t any other day—Four looked near comatose, struggling to stay awake, and Wind eyes wouldn’t focus. Whatever Djan had drugged them with was strong, and Twilight was the only one who hadn’t had any.

He rushed Djan, slamming into him and flinging him back. Rage boiled in his gut, mostly at the Yiga but partly himself: he knew something was wrong with the food. He knew, and he hadn’t said anything. One Yiga stood no chance against his fury, and it took only a few swipes to send the man’s head flying, and as soon as Twilight was sure he was dead, he was by Wild’s side. The teen was curled up on the ground, eyelids fluttering, surrounded by equally incapacitated heroes. Carefully, Twilight scooped Wild up in his lap.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, wiping Wild’s terrifyingly clammy brow, “I’ll keep watch. Sleep it off. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Wild’s eyes opened a minuscule amount, squinting up at Twilight, before they rolled back into his head. Twilight held him closer.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He whispered, over and over, until the sky melted to black.

---

It was pouring when Hyrule woke, icy violent rain that soaked you in seconds and chilled you down to your very core. There was no protection from the elements available; the group had found themselves at the bottom of a hill in a grassy plane, with no trees or buildings in sight. Wild sat on the ground, knees pulled to his chest, and watched the rain.

‘Do I even want to know what you saw?’ He signed. Four sat down beside him.

“There was a Yiga on Satori.” Four said, and Wild grimaced.

“I think that’s the closest I came to really dying on my adventure.” He said, pulling at the wet grass. “I learned after that. You can’t trust anyone.”

Hyrule’s chest ached. He sat down on the other side of Wild and slipped his hand into his.

“Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t people worth trusting.”

Wild hmmed.

“If you hadn’t trusted us, where would we be now?”

Wild didn’t answer, just stared into the rain, but Hyrule felt confident that his point had been heard.

“I remember running. And hiding in a ditch. Covering myself with a dead deer. But also… there’s this feeling of safety that I know wasn’t there before. Like someone watching over me. Is that what y’all meant?’’ He said, looking at Four and Sky. They nodded. Wild let out a bitter laugh.

“Okay. Okay.”

Hyrule turned from Wild to do a head count. They were missing someone, just as he expected they would be— Legend. For some reason, seeing into one of Legend’s lowest moments in his adventures seemed far more voyeuristic than looking at Sky or Four or Wild’s. It made Hyrule’s gut churn, stomach acid chilled by the rain. He stood and offered Wild a hand, which the older teen took, and pulled him to his feet.

Hyrule squinted out into the rain. The wind screamed, taking practically all the sound of the field with it; it was a miracle that the sound of metal on metal wasn’t swallowed by the thunder.

“Come on!” Hyrule yelled, taking off up the hill. He could make out shapes in the rain: three figures, two large and hulking, and one small. Too small.

Behind him, Warriors swore, shouting at him to slow down, but Hyrule kept pace; that was the silhouette of a child and he’d be damned if he let a kid get hurt, even in some strange dreamscape.

Hyrule’s legs were burning as he approached the crest of the hill, and what he saw caught the breath in his throat. It was a child in green, eleven at most, soaked to the skin, his pink curls plastered to his face with rain and blood and the Master Sword in hand, the hilt far too big for his tiny fist. Legend. He was just so… small…

Two knights in heavy armor circled him, one wielding a massive claymore and the other a crossbow. Hyrule’s heart clenched at the bolt sticking hallway out of baby Legend’s calf, dirty skin torn to shreds, likely in his attempt to rip it out by himself.

“Please, I don’t want to hurt you—” Legend all but sobbed as he struggled to avoid a knight’s swipe. The crossbow bolt was slowing him down, and now that Hyrule was closer he could see a muddy slash in Legend’s tunic, leaking red.

“You are under arrest,” The sword-wielding knight rumbled. “Come quietly and your execution will be swift and painless.”

Legend cried out as the claymore caught his shoulder and finally, finally, Hyrule reached the crest of the hill. He slid before Legend, Magic Sword raised, and the fury behind his word of power was all-consuming, Fire licking forward with impossible force, sending the two knights stumbling back to avoid roasting.

“Wait!” Legend cried as Hyrule stepped forward towards the two, sword glowing with magical fire. “Don’t hurt them!”

“Don’t hurt them!?” Wind shrieked over the wind, having just arrived on the top of the hill, “You have a crossbow bolt in your leg!”

“Please!”

Wind huffed but shifted his stance, ready to incapacitate instead of decapitate. Hyrule turned his focus from Fire to Jump, weaving in and out of the knights’ grasp as he tried to stay in front of an increasingly hysterical Legend. Between the rain, wind, and mud, it was proving to be a harder and harder task. Hyrule expected Legend to struggle with a sword so obviously too big for him, but the boy was skilled, even with his stick-thin arms shaking when he held the Master Sword aloft for too long. Hyrule knew what it meant to be a young hero—after all, he’d only been ten when he first struck down the damn pig—but something about the too-big sword wouldn’t stop pestering him, like a deadly fruit fly.

There was a thud as the sword-wielding knight fell, alive but certainly not feeling well, and the look of relief on Legend’s face didn’t last long. He yelped as the other knight tackled him, her helmet knocked clean off at some point in the battle, exposing long blond hair and bright eyes. With her crossbow abandoned in the fight, she turned to brute force instead, wrapping her hands around Legend’s tiny throat and squeezing.

“Stop! Please,” Legend croaked, “I know this isn’t you!”

Hyrule readied his sword. It didn’t matter what Legend wanted at this point, the knight had lived long enough. Legend groped blindly at the grass before his hand finally found the hilt of the Master Sword. He brought it up.

“Leave! Me! Alone!”

He brought it down.

Hyrule could hear the thud even through the rain, and as the battlefield grew still the cloud cover began to split. The knight’s eyes were wide and unseeing, the Master Sword’s edge embedded in her skull. Legend managed to force her off of him just in time for him to empty the contents of his stomach.

Careful of the vomit, Hyrule knelt beside him.

“Link…” he said softly, as if speaking to a frightened animal. “You need to let someone look at your leg.”

“I killed her.”

“She was trying to kill you. It was self-defense.”

“You don’t understand, the knights, they’re enchanted by Agahnim. They didn’t know what they were doing. And I killed her. I killed her.”

Hyrule didn’t know what to say. Was there even anything he could say? What could you possibly do to make this better?

Hyrule tore off a piece of his undershirt and wet it with water from his canteen, then leaned forward and wiped the mud, blood, and tears from Legend’s face. He offered the boy water, and hesitantly Legend drank.

“May I see your leg?” Hyrule said softly. Legend sniffled but nodded, extending it towards Hyrule with a wince. The sheer amount of grit and mud in the wound, along with the wood splitters, nearly guaranteed infection if it wasn’t tended to quickly. Hyrule pulled the aid kit out of his bag; Life and magic were helpful, but not always to be depended on. He rinsed the leg carefully, then, after snapping the bolt just below the leg, began to pull it out.

“This will hurt.” He said softly, “But you can hold my hand if you want.”

Legend scoffed. “I’m not a baby.”

“Of course, you’re not. Still, it’d make me feel better and I’m all grown up.”

Legend bit his lip but finally linked hands with Hyrule. Hyrule yanked out the bolt and Legend swore, eyes squeezed shut. The magic came to Hyrule easily as he reached out, sending warm, soothing waves down Legend’s leg. The poor guy looked exhausted. Hyrule was tempted to ask how old he was but was terrified to know the answer.

They sat in silence, Hyrule’s magic sinking into Legend’s leg, and Hyrule pretended he didn’t see Legend’s tears. As the gash finished closing, a scar developing in its place, Hyrule risked leaning forward and hugging Legend; the kid stiffened for a moment, then melted into the hold. The feeling of Legend’s cold, trembling body in his arms was the last thing to fade as the world went black.

---

The world was shaking. Wind bolted up, ready to run. Earthquakes mean tsunamis, and tsunamis meant certain death, swallowing up everything in sight until there was nothing left but a churning sea and floating bodies.

“Woah there, sailor,” Warriors said, steadying the teen. “I felt it too. Look up.”

Wind squinted up—they were in some kind of swamp. The water reeked of sickly-sweet poison and was a foul pink, and above them was the… moon? It couldn’t be the moon—it was huge, bigger than any moon Wind had ever seen before, with a gruesome grinning face, teeth bared, and it was clearly falling.

“What the fuck,” Legend breathed.

What the fuck indeed. Guess this meant there was no time for heart to hearts, because with each second the moon seemed to be creeping closer and closer. The sky was blood red and furious, and the ground shuddered under their feet.

“Where’s Time?” Four called, but Wind couldn’t tear his eyes off the sky. Could they die in this dreamscape? Because at this moment, Wind was very positive that if someone didn’t do something now they were going to find out.

“Where did you put it?” A tiny, twinkling voice said from further down the pier.

“I—”

“You put it in your bag, right? Right next the Deku Mask?”

“Tatl—”

“Don’t Tatl me, where did you put it?!”

“I dropped it!”

“You WHAT?”

The Chain spun on their heels to where a child was leaning over the edge of the pier. He was too thin, with a deeply sunburned face and wild blonde hair, dressed in green and pleading with a very, very angry fairy.

Time. It had to be.

The ground rumbled again and the fairy—Tatl?—yelped, bobbing anxiously in the air.

“I… when I took the mask off, I lost my grip and I tried to grab it too quickly, and it… it slipped out of my hand. Into the water.”

The fairy froze.

“You really dropped it?”

Time nodded, looking truly miserable.

“How much time do we have left?” Tatl said, voice shaking.

“Uh. 13 minutes and 13 seconds. 13 minutes and 12 seconds. 13 minutes and 11 seconds—”

“I get it!” Tatl snapped. “Fuck. Fucking fuck.”

Wind realized with no small amount of horror that child Time had begun to cry.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, wiping his eyes with his fists.

“Say sorry to the people of Termina. Oh wait, we can’t. Because in—”

“12 minutes and 58—”

“12 minutes and 58 seconds we’re gonna be dead!”

Twilight made a pained sound and started towards Time—Wind held out an arm. This wasn’t Time, stoic leader and mentor, this wasn’t the rock Twilight knew, and no matter how much it hurt, Wind knew if he let Twilight go to him that would be all the rancher saw. Right now, Time didn’t need Twilight. He needed a big brother.

“Let me.”

“But—”

“I know what I’m doing, Twilight. Let me.” Wind moved with soft but steady speed, not wanting to spook Time but refusing to let him cry, and knelt beside him.

“What did you lose?” he said, keeping his voice calm and sweet. It was just like when Aryll woke from dreams of the Helmaroc King or Tetra found herself trapped in memories of Ganondorf’s laugh. Everything was fine. The moon wasn’t falling. Everything was going to be okay.

Time looked up at Wind from where he was crouched on the pier. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags under them were as big as fists and black as bruises. When was the last time this kid slept?

“My ocarina.” Time mumbled. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Wind wasn’t sure why Time was apologizing, but he knew he couldn’t allow the look of pure despair on Time’s face to continue.

“When was the last time you saw it?”

“We were leaving the Palace. We, we knew we didn’t have the time to go to Woodfall Temple, we were running so late… so late… but I wanted to save the monkey. It was stupid, I’m so stupid—”

Wind watched in horror as Time began pulling at his hair, ripping out chunks with his tugging. Wind grabbed his wrists, holding his hands still.

“Hey, hey, let’s calm down. We’ll find your ocarina. You said you dropped it?”

Time nodded. “In the water.”

Wind glanced at the swamp water. The clearly, clearly toxic swamp water. He swallowed.

“I’ll get it.”

Time looked at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t be a day older than ten.

“The water—”

Wind yanked off his boots, ignoring Time’s protests.

“I’m helping, and that’s final.” He said, forcing calm into his voice, and Time looked at him like he’d personally hung the moon.

Well, maybe that wasn’t the best analogy.

“It, it’s blue. And about the size of a fist. And oval shaped. But listen, you don’t have to do this. I can swim—"

“I know you can do this, but you don’t have to. You don’t have to do everything, and I can do this. Let me do this for you, kiddo.”

Time blinked, tears welling up again before the fairy jumped between them.

“Okay, okay, if you’re gonna do it, do it already! We don’t exactly have much time!!”

Wind took a deep, deep breath. He wasn’t thinking about how much this would hurt. He wasn’t. It would be fine. It was for Time. He could do it for Time. And Termina, he guessed, whatever the fuck that was. Chest full of air and critically aware of the moon overhead, Wind jumped over the edge of the pier. It burned—Jabu below, it burned, his skin screaming as whatever toxin in the water sunk into each pore, and he had to force himself to hold onto the breath in his lungs as pain threatened to crush him like a can. At least the water was shallow, only a few meters deeper than he was tall, and it took no time at all to swim to the bottom. He dug his fingers into the silt, searching blindly for something, anything resembling an ocarina.

He needed to stay calm. Normal Time would be able to stay calm, so he would too. He could do this. He would do this.

Wind’s fingers finally brushed something smooth and round and he snatched it up, praying this was the ocarina. It took one push off the bottom swamp floor to send him flying upwards, and as soon as he broke the surface Time was there, pulling him onto the pier.

“The ocarina,” Tatl said, bouncing in Wind’s face, “did you get the ocarina??”

Wind held it out and the fairy let out a sigh of relief. Time pulled Wind into a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered, taking the offered ocarina. “I know you won’t remember this once the first day starts, but I will, always. I’ll try and find you again, if I can. Help you. It’s the least I can do. Maybe I can make you happy.”

Time stood on his tippy toes and kissed Wind on the cheek, then raised the ocarina to his lips. Wind was only able to hear the first notes of a strange, haunting melody before the world went black.

---

Four wasn’t sure what had happened between Time and Wind on the pier and frankly he was happy keeping it that way. It had seemed too personal to involve himself in, and he was glad the Chain had given the two of them space as Wind comforted Time. The image of Time, giant, imposing Time, having to stand on his tiptoes to give Wind a thank you kiss would forever be burned in his mind, right next to baby Time’s tears and Time ripping out chunks of his hair. Despite being the shortest amount of time they’d spent in any dreamscape by far, Four felt like the group had spent a hundred years on that pier, watching Time in hysterics as Wind jumped into toxic water.

Suddenly, Four was a lot less curious about Time’s adventures.

The group reoriented themselves, glancing around at the cave they had found themselves in. Out of the corner of his eye, Four saw Time and Wind talking together softly. Time’s face was unreadable—so different from the wide-eyed, expressive child he’d been mere moments ago—and as Wind spoke, Four was content to give them their time alone. Wind wrapped his arms around Time’s waist, who froze, looking so deeply out of his element that Four would have snickered if he didn’t know the context. The older man finally knelt down to give Wind a proper hug, and the Chain all found other places to look as the two held each other. Wind stepped away, his face was set with determination. He jutted his chin out at the rest of them.

“Well?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.”

Footsteps echoed down from the cave entrance, whoever it was breathing hard as they ran. Four did a quick headcount—Hyrule’s memories then.

“We should hide,” Wild said. “If he’s coming here for safety then we’ll just spook him.”

“But what if he needs us?” Wind replied.

“Then we help. But scaring him is the last thing we need.”

There was a murmur of agreement and the group scattered, hiding behind stalagmites and limestone pillars. The cave was beautiful, and Four would have loved to explore if the situation was different. Stalactites and stalagmites clung to the ceiling and rose from the floor like abstract marble carvings, pillars of stone resembling twisting, dancing people, their hair and clothes frozen underground. Hyrule’s footsteps broke the stillness of the stale air, and his panting spoke of a long, long time spent running. Suddenly, he turned the corner into the main portion of the cave, and the sight of him broke Four’s heart.

He was young, 13, maybe 14, face pale and clammy instead of red from exertion—it was easy to see why. His belly was slashed badly, and for a horrible moment, Four thought he might be holding in his organs. But no, that was just the shadows of the cave, thank the Three. Hyrule had stripped his over tunic to hold over the wound, trying and failing to staunch the bleeding, and the sheer panic on his face was nauseating to look at.

Hyrule dropped the tunic to allow himself better mobility as he reached in his bag for bombs, and the jagged edges of the slice made Four’s stomach ache. That poor kid… it didn’t matter that Four had been younger when he faced Vaati, 13 was still too young to feel pain like that.

Hyrule pulled a bomb from his bag and with a flick of flint, lit the fuse. He nestled it against the pillar near the cave entrance holding up the ceiling; he was going to cave in the cave. Four itched to tell him no, to warn him of the dangers of a total collapse, but Hyrule’s face was set and ready. The bomb exploded and dust rained down as the entrance crumbled in on itself, and only then did Hyrule relax.

He slid to the ground and with a wince pulled off his undertunic, then his bloodied pants, leaving him in only his undergarments. Shaking violently, he began digging in the dirt, shoving the bloodied clothes into the dust, and whispered a word of power with weak lips. Fire leaped to life in his hand and he thrust it into the clothes. The fire flickered and went out and Hyrule cursed, once again calling Fire. This time the clothes took, red and orange licking at the fabric. When there was nothing but ash left Hyrule took a shaky breath and looked down at the still sluggishly bleeding gash on his stomach. He swallowed, eyes wide with fear but set with determination. He raised his Magical Sword, and Fire leaped to life on the blade.

Four’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what the kid was about to do.

“Wait!”

Four scrambled out of his hiding place and Hyrule whirled around, flaming sword in hand, face alight with panic.

“Stay back!”

“Link—”

“I’ve got a sword and I’m not afraid to use it on you!”

“Maybe, but with that gut wound you won’t get very far.” Four said softly. Hyrule’s eyes were fixed on the Four Sword, and with careful, purposeful movements Four unbuckled his scabbard and placed the sword on the ground. Then came the knife at his hip, and the one in his boot, and in a final show of good faith he extended his arms for Hyrule to inspect.

“Unarmed. I don’t want to fight.”

Hyrule looked tired. So, so tired, and it hurt bitterly to see.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But don’t move. I have important things to do.”

Four nodded. “Gotcha.”

Hyrule sighed and sank back into the dirt, once again speaking Fire into existence and running the flame over his sword.

“I can stitch it for you.” Four said, forcing his voice light.

Please don’t touch yourself with that. Let me help, let me heal you for once, please, please don’t cauterize that wound.

Hyrule shook his head. “Not good enough.”

“What, you think I’m a bad doc?”

“Stitches bleed,” Hyrule said matter of factly. He pinched the open gash together with one hand and raised his sword in the other; Four bolted to his side, but it was too late. The smell of burning flesh filled the room and Hyrule bit into his forearm, muffling the scream. Four couldn’t help it. He leaned to the side and emptied his gut.

“Sorry,” he wheezed, running his tongue over his teeth, and Hyrule shrugged as if he hadn’t just cauterized a six-inch long wound by himself.

“I’m just going to have to get used to it.” Hyrule said, and there was a defeated quality to his normally light voice that Four couldn’t stand.

“You’re not going to do this again are you!?”

Hyrule shrugged again. “Stitches bleed,” he said as if that answered all of Four’s questions.

“Don’t you have Life? And the Dolls? Surely this isn’t the only way.”

Hyrule shrugged. Would he please just stop shrugging!  

Four sighed. “Fine. But at least let me wrap it. If it gets infected then I’ll never forgive myself.”

“But you just met me.”

“So?” Four said, sitting cross-legged in front of Hyrule. “I can still care, Mr. Stranger.”

Hyrule gave him a long hard look before reaching over and handing Four his aid pouch.

“Are these the only bandages you have?” Four asked, stomach dropping to his knees.

Shrug.

“Link, these bandages are all used. I think they have dried pus on them.”

 Shrug.

“This… this is horse hair—have you been using horse hair for sutures?”

Shrug.

“Do you even have any disinfectant in here?”

Shrug.

“Soap? Alcohol? Honey? Anything?!”

Shru—

“Link, I swear if you shrug one more time I’m smacking you.”

Hyrule scooted back and Four cursed. “Not, not really. I wouldn’t actually hurt you, I promise. Here.” Four took out his aid pouch and began digging through. “You can have my bandages and my suture kit, and you can take the disinfectant, and some burn balm—”

Hyrule’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“Shh. Here, just take all of it. I can buy more.”

“Sir—”

“—Four—”

“—Four, this is too much.”

Four smiled. “Not for you it’s not. You’re a good person, Link, and you deserve to heal without hurting. Take the bandages. Take the painkillers. And for the love of Nayru, take the burn cream. If you’re going to insist on burning yourself, at least do it safely.”

Hyrule stared long and hard at the new aid pack in his hands before throwing it to the side and dragging Four into a hug, fresh burn forgotten. Four squeezed him tight, and Hyrule had only just stopped shaking when Four’s vision went black.

---

The first thing Wild did when he woke up was think long and hard about the last time he’d seen Hyrule shirtless. Hyrule was a private person, especially with his body, and Wild was sure he could count the time he saw bare skin with one hand, but Wild was fairly certain he’d seen burn scars before. He’d always assumed they were parting gifts from monsters, or maybe Ganon, or even mishaps from learning how to use Fire, but to think of Hyrule, small and determined as he held a piece of red hot metal to his flesh… it make Wild want to gag. Four wobbled as he stood across the room and hauled ass to Hyrule, yanking the bigger teen up and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“We’re going through your aid kit tonight.” He said, and Hyrule flushed.

“What did you see?”

“Saw you try to light yourself on fire,” Warriors said, arms crossed. Hyrule winced.

“I only did that once. I was cornered and I couldn’t see a way out—I figured self-immolation would suck but was better than being captured and Hyrule falling.”

“WHAT?” The group turned to Legend; he looked furious, face red and eyes blown, but Wild knew the look well. Legend wasn’t angry, he was scared.

“Was that… not what you saw?” Hyrule said. It seemed strange that the temple would show them a first cauterization and not an attempted suicide; Wild didn’t want to think about what that said about Hyrule’s changed mental state between the two fiery experiences.

“No, you moron, we saw you cauterizing yourself, not fucking self-immolation!” Legend all but shrieked. He moved across the room, almost shaking, and pulled Hyrule to his chest. He was shaking now, a horrid full-bodied thing, and the Wild looked away. They deserved privacy.

Almost as soon as Wild thought that, he heard the footsteps. Soft, gentle, but firm, moving with a purpose just outside.

“Hide! Wind hissed, pointing to the door—the door! Where were they? Where was Twilight?

The room was circular, all dark stone and tapestries, obviously once intended for comfort but stripped of everything that would provide it. A large window curved along the wall, showing a black, inky sky. It wasn’t the night sky, but instead a sky devoid of light, as if something had ripped the very concept away. The thickness of the air was unnatural, reminding Wild almost of malice. Wherever they were, something was wrong with the world here.

The large wood doors opened, and in rushed a cloaked woman. She was tall, her face hidden by a purple cowl, with the only part of her body really visible being her hands. They were engloved in white, the stitching and beading ornate, and her left hand glowed in the gloom—the Triforce. Zelda.

Wild had met Twilight’s Queen Zelda only three times, but she always struck him as a deeply imposing, regal figure, her grey eyes always steely, mouth always set in a firm line. She was stern, but kind, and nothing about her spoke of any kind of weakness. This woman, this Zelda, was different, her eyes wild and breathing heavy, and it was nearly impossible to see Dusk in her. She was clearly a prisoner, but the spires outside looked so much like Twilight’s Hyrule Castle—Dusk, imprisoned in her own castle?

She yanked a fire poker from the fireplace and pressed herself against the wall, ready to swing at the next person that came through. There was a snarl, the pounding of clawed paws on stone, and an animal burst into the room.

“Oh, blessed Din, it’s just you,” Dusk said, lowering the poker. “You shouldn’t have come, Link. The guards noticed you leaving last time and have sent shadow beasts on patrol. If they catch you, they’ll kill both of us.”

The animal whined, and—Wolfie?

It had to be Wolfie. Wild knew that face, that fur, those markings, those blue eyes, would know it anywhere. Wolfie whined, nuzzling Dusk, who gasped, bringing a gloved hand to her mouth.

“Midna…” She breathed, and Wild finally noticed the thing on Wolfie’s back. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before, short and strangely curved, with swirled markings and a headdress of stone on top of limp, pale hair. Whatever the creature was, she was clearly sick, her skin a strange gray-green, and her breathing was wheezing and labored. “Midna, what happened…?”

Wolfie pawed at Dusk, who knelt and helped the imp—Midna, apparently— off his back and cradled her in her arms, placing her gently on the bed against the wall. Finally, Midna stirred, her eyes barely opening but still focusing on Dusk.

“Zelda…” she wheezed, reaching out, and Dusk grabbed her hand tightly. “Please… tell me… how do we break the curse on Link…?”

“Let’s focus on you,” Dusk said, brushing the back of her hand on Midna’s cheek. “This magic—”

“No! No, Link is more important.”

Wolfie whimpered, trotting over to the bed, and resting his chin on Midna’s limp side. He leaned into her, pressing his wet nose against her sickly skin.

“Link… he is the one… you need him to save your world. Zelda, you must help him. Save your magic for him. Darkness knows I do not deserve it.”

Wolfie—clearly Twilight, which, hell, that made far too much sense— pulled himself onto the bed and curled around Midna, who curved herself around him. What little of Dusk’s face was visible was tight, and pained. She took a deep breath and leaned over Twilight, extended her left hand, and moved it across his side. She buried her fingers in his fur, slowly brushing across his back, and her hand lit with holy light. Twilight howled, jerking under her hand, something in his skull leaking darkness. It hissed and bit and thrashed against the Triforce, and Dusk leaped back.

“Link—what binds you is a different magic than what transformed you when you first passed into the Twilight.” She said softly, “It is powerful, Dark; this is not Twili magic. It’s something far stronger.”

“Ganondorf,” Midna spat, using what little energy she had to pull herself closer to Twilight, proving what little comfort she could. “So, he’s stuck? I’ve doomed him?”

Dusk clasped Midna’s hands. “Our world is a world of balance. Just as there is Darkness to drive away Light, so too, is there benevolence to banish evil. Head for the sacred grove that lies deep in the woods guarded by Faron. There you will find the Blade of Evil's Bane that was crafted by the wisdom of the ancient sages...the Master Sword. Evil cloaks you like a dark veil...and that blade is the only thing that can cleave it. Link… I’m sorry.”

Midna nodded, clinging to Twilight’s fur. “Link... You can... You can get to the woods...on your own, right?” she whispered in his ear, and Twilight’s anguished whine was unlike any sound Wild had heard an animal make before. Midna turned back to Dusk.

“I have one last request... Can you tell him...where to find the Mirror of Twilight?”

Dusk’s eyes went wide, then soft. Wild wasn’t sure what the Mirror was, but it was clearly important, and Midna’s request was clearly touching.

“Midna...” Dusk breathed, eyes wet. “I believe I understand now just who and what you are. Despite your injuries, you act in our stead... These dark times are the result of our deeds, yet it is you who have reaped the penalty.” Dusk swallowed, took a deep breath in, then out, and laid her hands on Midna’s. “Accept this now, Midna. I pass it to you.”

Dusk began to glow brilliantly, then Midna with her. Midna screamed, begging her to stop, for Twilight to stop her, but Dusk continued pouring magic into the imp until there was nothing left to give. Dusk was gone. Dusk was gone and Midna was healed.

The room was silent, safe for a single ragged breath from Midna.

“I… I’ll see you outside.” Midna mumbled, not meeting Twilight’s pained gaze, disappearing into a shadow and leaving Twilight alone.

The room was silent, and then Twilight growled, jerking forward and yanking the blankets from the bed with his teeth, ripping them apart, then ramming a chair that cracked on impact with the stone floor. The sound Twilight made was unlike anything Wild had heard before, and Wild liked to think he was quite the expert when it came to animals. It was furious and anguished, filled with despair and rage, and then Twilight was knawing violently on the chain on his ankle, blood pooling in his gums.

Shit, if he kept this up he was really going to fuck himself up. Wild took a step forward and Sky grabbed his collar, hissing something about not knowing how safe Twilight was like that, but Wild shook him off.

“Link?”

Twilight whipped around, lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, and bolted towards Wild, all gnashing teeth and feral thrashing and Wild had to jump on the mattress to avoid Twilight’s bloody jaws. Wild held his hands up.

“Woah there. Not here to hurt you. I, uh…” Wild suddenly realized he didn’t have a good reason to be up in Dusk’s tower or any reason for Twilight to trust him.

“I came to see Zelda. To make sure she was okay. I… I heard whispers of shadow beasts and I was worried about her.”

Twilight cocked his head, eyes narrowed, but did not move closer, which Wild counted as a win. Slowly, hands open and visible, Wild unhooked his sword from his back and slid it over, followed by the hunting knife on his thigh. Twilight crept forward and smelled them, before jerking his head up. Wild wasn’t sure what his friend smelled, but it seemed enough to prove Wild wasn’t a threat. Wild slipped off the bed and knelt down beside Twilight. Twilight snarled when Wild extended a hand. Wild froze, hand still stretched out, and Twilight sniffed it before deciding he liked what he smelled. Or something. He laid down by Wild’s knees, looking truly miserable.

“She’s okay,” Wild whispered, running a cautious hand through Twilight’s fur. It was matted with dirt and dried blood—unlike the Wolfie Wild knew, Twilight had put no effort into grooming himself. “I’ve seen how this ends. Zelda, she’s all right.”

Twilight’s ears perked up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a… magician, or something. I’ve seen into the future. The queen is safe, she’s not gone. She’s not dead.”

Twilight scooted closer and Wild began untangling a particularly bad matt. He looked so tired, chunks of fur missing to expose recent burns and gashes. He looked like he’d just come from a boss battle. Had he been forced to fight something like this? Wild’s heart twisted.

“It’s okay.” He said, moving onto the next matt. “Don’t lose faith. It’s all gonna be okay. I promise. Your friend and the queen will be fine. Everything will be alright. I swear on my sword, it will be.”

Twilight whined, resting his head on Wild’s knee, and Wild had just started on another matt when everything went black.

---

The air smelled of salt and brine. Sky could hear the ocean, violent, rolling waves crashing against the shore as rain pelted them, cold as ice. It wasn’t hard to guess whose adventure this must be. Sky sat up with a groan, the sand clinging to his exposed skin quickly becoming mud as the sky emptied on top of them. Time offered a hand and Sky gladly took it, shaking out his hair. It did little to help and when he turned, blinking away raindrops, the whole group was looking at a very nervous-looking Twilight.

“I guess the last memory was me?”

A round of nods and then Wild cleared his throat.

“Dusk—she was okay after her ‘vanish into light’ bit, right?”

Twilight cringed. “Oh. That. She got possessed for a bit, but me and… a friend, we managed to save her body. She is a fantastic shot on horseback archery, it turned out.”

“So, you’re the wolf.” Legend said, crossing his arms, and Twilight shrugged.

“Listen, the whole Twili curse thing wasn’t exactly my idea of fun, you know.”

Legend’s mouth quirked up and Twilight’s shoulders loosened.

“Wolf-boy, the Four Sword, anybody else got any fun transformations we should know about?” Warriors drawled and Legend shook his head.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “I think that’s it.”

“The memory, does it feel any different?” Hyrule asked and Twilight cocked his head, thinking.

“I felt so hopeless when it happened, like everything my friend and I had done had been for nothing. It still feels hopeless when I think back on it. But also, there is a warmth over it, like someone running their fingers through your hair.”

Wild laced and unlaced his fingers, clearly deep in thought, when a clap of thunder shook the beach. The Chain had been to quite a few islands on the Great Sea, Outset and Windfall, Dragon Roost and the Oasis, even Mother and Child Isle and the Fairy Islands, massive fairy fountains that took up entire chunks of the Sea. Wind was proud of his home and happy to show it to them, and any time spent in his Hyrule was time spent exploring. But while Sky was fairly certain this was the far eastern side of Outset, it was practically impossible to recognize. It looked as if a hurricane has tried its damn-ist to rip the island out of the ocean, debris littered across the shore.

“We need to find the sailor,” Legend said darkly.

“No shit,” Warriors shot back, but Legend cut him off with a look far too serious for Legend’s normally impish face.

“No. We need to find him. He can’t be out in this weather, it’s not safe. These storms— these storms are the kind that whips up tsunamis and whirlpools. These are the storms that kill sailors.”

Warriors let out a nervous laugh. “This is Wind. The Hero of the Winds. If anyone can handle a storm, it’s him.”

“Best not to risk it,” Time said. “We’ll split up—”

“No! No, we need to stay together, getting separated in weather like this is asking for an early grave.”

“Legend,” Twilight said, voice pacifying, but the younger hero was already spiraling. Suddenly, Sky noticed a flash of red further down the coast; just a brief flicker of color, but color non the less.

“Guys?” Sky said, struggling to be heard over the wind. “I think I see something—”

The Chain’s attention was on Legend, who was getting steadily more hysterical.

“Hey— guys—”

Sky sighed. They weren’t going to wind down any time soon, Sky could tell. When Legend got that look in his eye, arguments could last hours: hours they did not have. Sky glanced back towards where he saw the flashes of color. Someone had to do something if Legend was right about the dangers of a storm like this. Fine. If no one was going to step up, he would.

It was easy to slip away with the poor visibility and magnitude of sound, and Sky struggled against the sand-turned-mud as he moved down the coast. He wasn’t sure if he walked a few meters or half a mile fighting the wind, but sure enough, there it was: a boat, simple and bright red with a lion’s head fixed atop it. Wind had told them about the King of Red Lions, and had even showed the boat to them at its resting place on Outset, but that had been a very dead boat. This one was very much alive, the head swiveling towards Sky as he approached.

“Please,” Sky shouted over the wind, “Can you help me find my friend?”

“You carry a strange sword, traveler.” The King said, and Sky’s hand went to the hilt of the Master Sword. He hadn’t considered that the late King of Hyrule might recognize her. “That sword drowned with Hyrule.”

“The Three,” Sky said, trying his best to use his Chosen Hero voice while yelling over the wind. “Give strange gifts. I’m searching for my friend. He’s young, dressed in green—”

“Ah, Link. He may not be Chosen, but he is determined. He shall do great things.”

“That’s really nice to hear, but I need to find him—”

“He went to be… alone. I told him that Jabun could be persuaded with time, that all was not lost, but he did not wish to listen.”

“What direction did he head?”

“You would really search for the boy in this storm?”

Sky set his jaw. “I would.”

“Hm.” The King of Red Lions was silent for an uncomfortably long amount of time, and Sky bit back a huff of frustration. Kings were all the same, no matter their place in the timeline. “He set off for the cove near the southern cliffs. Follow the destruction: you will find the cove at the heart of the storm.”

Sky nodded then, thinking better of it, bowed. “Thank you, your Majesty. I shall bring him back safe and sound.”

The King of Red Lions bowed his head. “I do not doubt that, Hero.”

---

It was slow, slow going. Sky almost regretted not telling the group where he was going as the waves lapped at his shins and the rain ripped at his skin, but instead, a fierce determination swelled in him with each boom of thunder. Wind was out here in this storm, and Sky was going to find him or drown trying. Then the two of them could return to the docks and Wind could get a hug and a kiss from his Grandma and hundreds of warm blankets and some hot soup and a dry shirt and—

Sky’s head whipped up at the sound of yelling and he broke into a run toward it. Or, as best a run as he could given the violent waters and pounding rain.

“Link?” He yelled over the wind. “Link?” There was another yell, and Sky was able to recognize it as a shout of anger, not pain, which calmed his steps somewhat. Wind wasn’t hurt. He sounded pissed as a tailless lizalfo, but he wasn’t hurt.

After walking till his soaked socks began to rub his feet raw enough to bleed, Sky could finally see the opening in the cliff that signaled the start of the cove. It was nearly impossible to make out (the rain was so thick he might as well be blind) and the cove opening was right against the shore, leaving no way in without swimming. Fuck. Sky knew from experience just how quickly swords and boots could drag you down and, greatly mourning his access to Wild’s slate, Sky decided taking as little with him into the water was wisest. Off came his boots, his adventure pack, his shield, and, after much agonizing, Fi. He bundled it together in Zelda’s sailcloth and laid it carefully as far away from the shore as possible before taking a deep breath and plunging into the waves.

Sky kept one hand on the sands, feeling his way along to try and keep an idea of which was up or down, but a particularly large wave crashed over him, jerking him along like a fish on a broken fishing line, and Sky’s hand lost contact. Another crashed into him again, stealing the air in his lungs, and Sky was beginning to deeply regret not telling anyone where he was going. He scrambled to try and figure out which way was up or down, lungs screaming, when a hand shot down and grabbed his collar. With surprising strength for a hand so small, his savior yanked him up out of the sea and onto the shore. Sky coughed and wheezed, sucking into air and rain, before opening his eyes.

There, hovering over him, was Wind. He was young, too young, dressed in green with baby fat still clinging to his cheeks, and his hair was far longer than Sky had ever seen it. His skin was deeply tanned from weeks on the open sea and his nose had recently been set, still bruised and swollen.

“You okay there, mister? Need any CPR?”

Sky coughed and Wind turned him to his side, rubbing his back.

“Let it out, I gotcha.”

Slowly, Sky caught his breath and sat up.

“What are you doing out in a storm like this?” Wind asked, arms crossed, and Sky spat out sand.

“I could say the same for you.”

“This is my island.”

“I… my ship capsized. I saw the cove and figured it would be safe.”

Wind’s face softened. “This is my thinking spot, but I can share it with you until the storm passes.”

“Thank you.”

Sky took a moment to look around the cove; it was small and almost completely enclosed, with a hut made of chunks of driftwood lovingly nailed together against the cliff. A collection of signs was pinned to the door.

‘L + A’s castle’ one read, another reading ‘L and A ONLY’, and then ‘SERIOUSLY keep OUT’ followed by a crude drawing of an angry face, signed with an A.

Aryll…

The hut had been partially destroyed, chunks of wood ripped off and nails littering the sand, and with a sinking heart Sky realized it hadn’t been the storm that destroyed it.

“What happened to the castle?” He asked softly, and Wind’s face flared with anger and… shame?

“It’s for stupid kids.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty awesome looking castle.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Wind mumbled, letting fistfulls of sand run through his fingers.

“Did… did you break the castle?”

“What’s it matter to you?” Wind said sharply, and Sky held up his hands.

“I can help you fix it.”

“No, it’s stupid! So stupid!”

“Is that really the problem?”

Wind sniffled, wiping the corner of his eye with his soaked sleeve.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” Sky said softly, and Wind shook his head.

“My sister… she’s gone, and I’m supposed to save her but… but I’m not a hero. So, I can’t.”

“Who on earth said you weren’t a hero?” Sky said, taking Wind’s hand. Wind shrugged him off.

“Everyone. They want the Hero of Time, or his ‘descendant’ or whatever, and I’m not that. I’m just some stupid kid from a backwater island. Jabun said he wouldn’t give Nayru’s Pearl to someone not chosen by the Gods, and the King of Red Lions said I’m a hero ‘by chance’, which basically means I’m not a hero at all. So, so my sister is gonna rot in the Forsaken Fortress and Ganondorf is gonna destroy everything and it will all be my fault. Because I’m not the Hero of Time, I’m not a descendant, I’m not Chosen. I’m just Link.”

“Well, I think Jabun sounds like a real asshole.” Sky said with a soft smile. Wind looked up at him. “And I think anyone who defines a hero by their blood and not their actions has no clue what a hero is! So what if you aren’t the Hero of Time—you’re Link! And one day you’re going to be the biggest hero the Great Sea has ever seen, not because you’re anybody’s descendant or because you’re ‘Chosen’, but because you’re you. The kid from a backwater island.”

Wind’s eyes were wide and Sky drew him in close. Wind stiffened for a moment at the contact before melting into Sky’s arms.

“You’re my hero,” Sky said, just as everything faded to a soft, warm black.

---

Time liked to think he could handle most things temples thew at him. He’d dealt with his fair share of hexes, curses, and spells over the years, in and out of dungeon crawls, and at this point, it would be rather embarrassing if he hadn’t gotten quite good at it, or grown thick enough skin to handle it all.

This was proving to be his least favorite thing a dungeon had thrown at him in a very, very long time.

Time valued privacy. He’d valued it at ten-turned-seventeen, valued it in Termina—had certainly valued it on the battlefield, where Ruto and Darunia fought meters away, the entrance to his timeline wide open for all to see. It had been easy to bundle up the title of Hero of Time and stuff it in his travel pack, away from Ruto, away from Darunia, away from recognizing eyes and questions. Zelda had known the truth, as had Impa, but to the rest of them Sprite was simply the strange, owl eyed kid from Termina with a truly terrifying mask hooked to his belt; nothing more, nothing less.

Warriors didn’t mention him when the man told war stories. Time wasn’t sure why. Maybe the younger man had forgotten him.

Time was used to being forgotten. He was used to being forgotten and used to tying the past up with a neat little bow and stashing it away. Malon had loosened that bow some, inch by inch, and Zelda had finally opened him up to the idea of a mind healer. Baby steps, but steps all the same.

He didn’t like seeing into the pasts of his boys—his boys, when had they become his? —didn’t like the near violent invasion of privacy, digging into their heads and plucking them out at their lowest.

Legend, vomit on his chin and blood on his hands.

Four, cradling the dead.

Hyrule, stomach cooked and heart desperate.

It wasn’t right. It was cruel to pick and choose what parts of someone’s life you show to others, and even crueler to encourage interference in the guise of ‘helping’. The whole thing made his skin itch.

(And, if he was being honest with himself, the shame and mortification of Wind seeing him like that, brushing away his tears and gently pulling his hands out of his hair was particularly overwhelming. Those days were days discussed to two people, and two people only, and Wind wasn’t one of them, as much as Time might care for him. Termina was reserved for Malon, for Zelda, for late nights staring at the new moon in awe. Not his boys.)

(Still, Wind had wrapped his arms around Time’s waist and squeezed, and Time’s body had frozen and melted at the same time, not knowing how to handle the touch, how to associate Termina with softness, with brine and sand and bright smiles.)

(Zelda was right. He really did need to start seeing a mind healer.)

Sky and Wind were whispering together, likely going over whatever voyeuristic experience the two had shared. Time was still peeved with Sky for running off without telling them in the middle of a mild monsoon, especially after listening to Legend’s warnings, but now wasn’t the time for bickering, not when Time remembered this place so, so clearly.

High, looming walls of dark stone. Rosebushes climbing through doorways and out windows. Tapestries and statues of Time’s face, Twilight’s face, Sky’s, Legend’s—Warriors’. Cia’s castle.

Time turned to the group. “I know where we are. This is one of the first major losses of the War of Eras. The enemies here are strong, well-armed, and in extreme numbers. Cia is a force to be reckoned with, and I do not doubt she would be giddy to involve herself in further time episodes should she meet us. Avoid her at all costs. At this point in the war, Warriors will have just moved up the ranks from Captain to Captain-Major and recently pulled the Master Sword. This battle—it ends badly. Badly. Stay together, and don’t get involved any more than necessary. Am I understood?”

The group blinked at him, surprised at the sheer finality in Time’s voice.

“Didn’t realize the two of you spent so much time swapping war stories.” Legend said, glancing around him as the sounds of fighting grew closer and closer. For a moment Time considered telling them, but… no. No, these boys were his fresh slate, and there was no need to dig into the War of Eras more than necessary. Sprite was a needed alias, but he was gone. The name had been laid to rest.

Footsteps, shouts, the clash of metal all echoed off the stone as a platoon of soldiers came bursting into the hall, quickly absorbing the Chain in their numbers without noticing. Unprofessional and dangerous. If Impa had been there, she would have had their heads. Leading the platoon, standing tall and proud with Proxi floating beside him, was Warriors.

Proxi. Time had been so jealous of Warriors and Proxi back then, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It was good to see her again at Warriors' side, ready to speak for him, to fight for him. Warriors sliced diagonally at a summoner, knocking the monster off its feet, and finished it off with an arching spin attack. Between his fancy footwork, direction, and sheer force, the lizalfos that had swarmed the room were decimated, leaving behind only a few injured.

“Zelda and Sprite called for reinforcements on the west keep,” Proxi said, settling on Warriors’ scarf. “West squadron, move out towards them.”

“Sprite don’t exactly need any help,” one woman snickered, and the look Warriors gave her could melt steel.

‘We respect our fellow men here, soldier.’ He signed, and Proxi repeated the words. That’s right. This was back before Warriors had found the comfort to use his voice, replying on Proxi and occasionally Impa and Zelda to translate. That was what they had first bonded over, the two of them leading armies while not being able to force words past their lips.

Suddenly, the pressure in the room rose dramatically, the smell of Dark magic overwhelming. Cia. Time could hear the gasps and mummers from his boys at the sight of her; Warriors had told them dozens of stories, but none of them would ever compare to feeling the sheer wrongness that dripped off of her.  

“Fall back.” Proxi said, translating Warriors’ words. “We’ll handle this.” Warriors flexed his grip on the Master Sword, flipping it around the back of his hand before sliding down into a fighting stance. Cia laughed, and the very sound of it pulled up memories Time had long since locked up.

This—oh. Oh. Cia’s castle, this was just after Warriors pulled the Master Sword. This was when—

Time began to run to Warriors side, pushing his way out of the retreating soldiers, and the Chain looked at him with confusion. Hadn’t he just told them to stay away?

“A sword is just a tool for the weak to swing around,” Cia spat, face split with a vile grin. “Only fools and men put their confidence in them.”

“We’ll see,” Proxi said, targeting the witch. Warriors rushed her and Cia easily sidestepped.

“Arrogance. Ego. Pridefulness. This darkness nurtured inside you shall be your undoing!”

Time slammed into Warriors just in time for Dark Link’s sword to come down where Warriors’ open back had been. Rosebushes rose with a mind of their own, sealing the entrances, and two more Darks appeared, violated Master Swords in hand.

“Soldier!” Proxi cried, “you were supposed to retreat! Fall back, we’ll handle this.”

“If you think I’m letting you fight those alone you’re crazy,” Time said; the other Links had already moved to battle positions, ready to take down the three Dark Links, each partnering up against an enemy. Warriors squinted at Time before his eyes went wide and soft.

“Sprite?” He whispered, and Time took to his blind spot.

“Focus on the Darks, dummy,” he said, and falling into the pattern they’d had all those years ago was as easy as breathing, each slash protected, each step forward successful. Time ducked out of the way for Warriors to do a spin attack, who covered Time as he thrust up into the neck of a Dark. The creature screamed, dropping to the floor and writhing until Legend took off its head. Across the room, Four had Wild’s back, the two of them dancing around the Dark as Hyrule ducked and slid between its legs, slicing it from groin to ribs. Only one last Dark stood, and with a cleaving hit, its torso went flying, Twilight panting beside it. Warriors looked at the eight of them in awe.

“Sprite, who are these? More time shenanigans?” Proxi asked.

Warriors pulled Time to a hug. “I hate when you fight for me.” He said in Time’s ear; Time thought this might be the most he’d heard Warriors say in one day at this point in the war.

“We’re brothers.” Time said, pulling back. “It’s what’s expected of us.”

Warriors beamed at him, and the feeling of Warriors skin was the last thing to fade.

---

When the Chain woke for the last time, the snow was gone. The dungeon hall was warm, if not a little humid, and the inscription glowed a peaceful blue. It was strange— the others had said they didn’t remember their new memory but Warriors did, clear as day., The bizarre but comforting overlap of old and new memories settled comfortably in the back of his head, and he was happy to have it there. He glanced at Time, who gave him a soft smile and a nod. Warriors had known the little boy with the mask was Time since the moment he saw him, months ago. The impish, comforting aura was there, even sans one eye and covered in tattoos. But Time had never brought it up, and, knowing the man’s love of privacy, neither had Warriors. It felt good to be on the same page. Scratch that, it felt wonderful.

“Guys?” Wind called, still lying on the stone. “You didn’t remember your changed memory at first, right?” The group shook their heads. “See, that’s funny because—”

“I do now—”

“Me too—”

“Head kinda hurts—”

“Eh, memory shit is always kinda weird, you get used to it.”

Warriors picked himself up off the ground and moved to the inscription. The pale blue color was beautiful, not unlike Proxi’s glow, and the words had changed.

“Give warmth, find warmth.” Wind read over his shoulder. Above them, the metal door dissolved into pale blue light.

“We can leave—” Four started—“Or, there is a whole temple down here.”

The ground looked to Legend, who groaned, hiding a smile they all saw.

“What the hell. Just no touching any more weird shit, Wild.” He said, moving to the blank wall in front of them. “The question is, boys, how the hell we get this open.”

The Chain crowded around Legend, and Warriors stepped back to watch as they bounced around ideas.

His family was here, and perhaps a bit happier. He glanced over to Time, who was watching the group with something close to adoration in his eyes.

Warriors couldn’t help but agree.